( open ) december catch-all

[ettersberg]

Who: Thomas Nightingale (ettersberg) & various
What: piloting, mistletoes, everything else
When: december
Where: thesa, wyver, olympia
Warning(s): none yet



drift compatibility

[ he's flown in planes before, of course — even british wizards had to cross the channel somehow and anyone who'd have suggested broomsticks would have been the laughing stock of the entire folly, because it doesn't work that way. even before the war, he'd travelled as part of the foreign office, sometimes by plane and sometimes not.

no plane he's ever been in can compare to the ship he's in right now, strapped into one of the pilot seats and glancing at the controls in front of him with a somewhat sceptical expression. ]

I'm afraid I'm not quite sure how this is meant to work.

mistletoe

[ nightingale returns to olympia and settles into a routine in as much as he can. it hadn't been close to any holiday period when the world had ended for him, but it seems to be growing colder here and there is an increased air of festivity to everything.

every now and again, nightingale will find himself beneath a mistletoe at the same time as someone else, though never by design. if he notices the plant, he might try to simply ignore it, but if his companion notices as well, he'll speak: ]

Were there any traditions attached to it in your world?

wildcard

[ write your own starter, hit me up at abiosis for one, whatever floats your boat. ]

Comments

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale inclines his head, acknowledgement of that point. given their current connection, that physical gesture of acknowledgement likely isn't necessary, but it's an unthinking thing.

beyond that, he doesn't react. there's a sense of understanding coming from clark, of acceptance and appreciation, subtle though it may be. it unclenches something in nightingale — not entirely, but enough that his own hold over his emotions loosens a little.

which is why clark gets to feel the surprise that turns into the single-minded determination of someone familiar with combat when the first meteorite comes their way. ]

Left. [ nightingale says, swerving his controls near immediately. ]

[apricitous]

[ Clark reacts immediately, his physical body activating the controls in conjunction with Nightingale and his emotions fluid, handing himself over to the other man to use as needed. There's no ego in his presence, nothing that demands he lead or pilot, just a need to get the job done the best they can. ]

[ettersberg]

[ there's an ease to the way nightingale assumes command that speaks of experience. he isn't a natural leader, but decades of leadership roles have made it come almost naturally and given clark's immediate action, there's no moment in which nightingale questions it.

another meteorite approaches and nightingale gives another order (up) and then another and another as they navigate a veritable minefield of meteorites.

it isn't until they've passed it that nightingale's mind loses that single-mindedness, the narrow focus. and in any other situation, he'd be able to hide his own reaction to the experience. there's no trembling of his hands, his shoulders barely curve forward. he stays where he is, outward appearance as calm as before.

on the inside, nightingale is shaking with the reminder of the war. ]

[apricitous]

[ He's from the Midwest; when it comes to emotional reactions, the immediate best manners are to ignore it and give someone room. Clark's fine with the second but he's always been bad about the first. That's why the presence through the link settles into something cool and soothing as they come down from the encounter but he doesn't move an inch physically. ]

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale does the mental equivalent of flinching away from even a soothing hand, not quite like a spooked animal but like someone who's been caught at something he'd been hoping no one would see or notice.

he does not do the mental equivalent of leaning into the touch, but after a moment, he at least lets it in. ]

[apricitous]

[ Clark doesn't push, doesn't prod. Doesn't recoil or balk. Instead, he stays constant, stays where he is. ]

[ettersberg]

[ there's something to be said for that steadiness. once upon a time, after the war, it had been nightingale who'd become a constant for everyone. he'd known how they'd talked -- if the nightingale can pull through, so can we -- and he hadn't wanted to disillusion them, hadn't shared anything about the nights he'd lain awake or woken up in a cold sweat with a scream lodged in his throat.

he doesn't want to put that on someone else, but clark doesn't seem to be suffering right now. (nightingale hadn't seemed to be suffering then, either, he'd tried hard not to let any of it show.)

the steadiness helps, even if nightingale tries not to rely on it. slowly, slowly, his chest unclenches, his emotional landscape growing calmer. warmer, again, instead of the frozen thing of the war. ]

[apricitous]

Would you like to take a cruise around?

I'll take backseat for a bit.

[ It's an offer to give him time to process, to cool off, without being any of those things. He won't acknowledge what happened out loud. ]

[ettersberg]

It's quite all right.

[ it's a kind offer, but frankly -- ] I think I'd prefer landing as soon as possible.

[apricitous]

Of course.

[ He nods and starts piloting them towards the landing location. ]

[ettersberg]

[ it's not the ship or even the emotional connection between them, but there's still relief bleeding through nightingale's walls when they get nearer to the ground and set down. ]

Thank you.

[apricitous]

You're very welcome.