eluvio | text, un: lunettes ( dated before the holiday mingle i.e. today )

Entry tags:

text, un: lunettes ( dated before the holiday mingle i.e. today )

[Reim understands absolutely nothing about... outer space, even after the initial orientation, so there's only one solution: writing himself a report about it. It's a force of habit, and he doesn't intend to share it at first (hence the strange heading) but he figures he might as well use it to present his various inquiries. He's going to be writing it anyway, so...

Well, it's better than looking out any windows and getting ulcers from space.]

CONFIDENTIAL/FOR INTERNAL USE ONLY
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Report 1 (Rough draft) | Month X/Day X | Author: Reim Lunettes

We appear to be in outer space.

The author (hereafter "I/me") is unfamiliar with the concept of "space" as it has been presented here (more accurate word: the Heavens? This lacks the atmosphere of something heavenly...) but has taken up the task of organizing the information presented haphazardly during "Orientation."

I was able to speak with the attendant upon (...) waking, but unable to ascertain any pertinent information. The conversation began as follows:

Q. (to attendant) What is going on here?
A. All of your questions will be answered in a moment at Orientation.

While perhaps my demeanor had been more frantic than can be accurately portrayed here in words, all manner of simple questions were regarded in this fashion. Then, proceeding into the next room to watch a moving picture that continued to make absolutely no logical sense, followed by being presented with the following and left to my own devices:

• An uncomfortably small uniform. I do not think it will fit me.
• Some kind of pendant.
• This device.
• Additional information that still has yet to explain in full what a "starship" is but does at least provide some helpful rules and regulations to adjust to living aboard one. Whatever it may be.
• The stars are outside. I will have to ask someone for medication to eliminate vertigo.
• A transcription of the moving picture that still does not make an ounce of sense.

To this end, being left to my own devices as I am, I am currently making arrangements to seek additional counsel about what is actually going on here and why this bag has been referred to as a "duffel." Interviews with those who have been here longer than I will be conducted in the following format:

Respondent:
Time:
Place:
Notes:

Q. Hello. My name is Reim Lunettes and I would like to have a moment of your time. What is your name?

Q. Have you ever been to "space" before?

Q. How familiar are you with the items found aboard this "starship"?

Q. What items were packed inside your "duffel"?

With these questions, I believe I will be able to report back with a more thorough understanding of the situation.

[Anyway, hope everyone enjoys this report that is half serious and half fed up with not understanding why everything glows and the pictures move. This is probably deserving of ridicule, but only a little.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ah, he's even more Ill than previously imagined. But Reim supposes tea won't kill him, and he can always badger him right back here himself if need be... He did come all this way.

But jesus christ what is this blood talk?? He did not sign up for that.]

Please don't be so graphic before tea. [He sighs again, stepping back so Eichi can get up. Alright...] Somehow, you've made me responsible for you anyway...

Fufu, have I? I don't know what you mean at all.

[Does he get the fufus yet. Well, Eichi can now dust off his clothes and move forward to exit this place.] Mr. Lunettes, was it? You're so tall, even with my own height, I'm shorter than you. It's more than just your age, isn't it? And you don't slouch at all. How wonderful.

As we walk, I'd love to hear what sort of tea you like.

[Barely... he won't make the connection until Later, when it's funnier. He's the chaperone now, so he'll dutifully keep up on the way out.

What is Eichi talking about...]

Any tea is fine, although I prefer black teas over other blends. Please pick something you enjoy, instead. [#manners....]

Hmm. Have you guessed how old I am, as well?

Hmm, your age? Let's see... You remind me of a childhood friend of mine, but your patience is more practiced. You must be the age of a teacher.

[He says that as if it's an answer. He has no idea what Reim's age is, okay.]

And how old is a teacher?

[Come on wise guy, thrill him. Now it's funny, because Eichi has no idea what he's talking about and Reim Knows.]

You're teasing me, asking for specifics like that, aren't you? That's surprisingly cute of you, fufu. ♪ The truth is, I can't tell your age at all. You have such a young face, I almost feel older than you myself.

Are you twenty? Or are you actually forty?

[He already wants to return this Ill Boy to the medbay, good grief.]

Twenty-six, actually. Don't feel like you have to talk about my "young face" again, please...

Hmm? Are you sensitive about it, Mr. Lunettes? Please don't take anything I say to heart. It's a strange and sudden situation we've been pulled into, after all, isn't it? Whether your face is young or riddled with stress lines and wrinkles, we're all here together. It hardly matters.

[That was supposed to be reassuring...] Besides, I'm a little envious. Twenty-six is an age I'll probably never reach.

[Why the fuck are you like this. Reim pauses and gives him a look, complete with a sternly raised eyebrow.]

Stop that. No one wants to hear about your illness every few minutes. Please contain that talk only to medical emergencies, and I will do my best to find someone who can help you. [Otherwise quit it, you're depressing and nobody likes that nonsense.]

[He's such a funny man. Eichi looks pleased by that response, giving him a touched smile.]

Thank you for worrying about me so much, Mr. Lunettes. [He, of course, ignores the scolding completely.]

I can hear the distant sound of lively voices, this way and that... Do you suppose we're close to some tea? Fufu, I wonder if I'll get lost along the way. You'll keep an eye on me, won't you?

[God.... Reim just sighs; what else could he do?? Eichi might be a punk who's conned him into looking after him (not being his servant, thanks), but he doesn't seem to mean any harm. He's just strange. And deathly ill.]

I suppose I don't have a choice. [But let's say this is miraculously after his walking tour with Victor, so he has a somewhat better chance of actually finding a place to have tea.] I believe if we continue this way, we should find something suitable quickly...

[Hmm, Reim doesn't seem like the type that would let him wander off and get lost, so that's a relief. Even though Eichi is tempted to get lost just for fun... For now, he stays by his side, looking around as they go.]

These halls are even more wondrous than the video, aren't they? All of the sparkling lights, the people, the technology... it brings to mind a feeling that I can't quite express in words. Though I think some have tried in the past. "One small step for man," isn't it?

[He is just going on about this...] It's all so exciting, my heart is beating faster than ever. ♪ That could be why they all thought I was having a heart attack.

One small step for whom...? [What does this mean? Please give him like ten days with space google and privacy and let him emerge a new, more educated man. He might get references then.]

They thought that because you're ill! What did I just say about bringing it up so often?

Oh, am I worrying you, Mr. Lunettes? I'm sorry. I wouldn't want to add wrinkles to that youthful face of yours. Let's move along and pretend I didn't say a word then, alright?

[That glimmer in his eyes says he's having too much fun for a sickly boy like himself.]

[What did he just say ten minutes ago!! Eichi!]

Remind me why I ought to have tea with a young man who can't help carrying on without a care in the world for manners? I'm stumped.

Hmm? Isn't it because you want something from me?

[He says that so simply, too, and like he didn't hear any insults about his politeness. His dog tags are worn, but inside of his shirt right now so he knows that Reim can't see how his name is written. So...]

You wanted to see how I wrote my name. I assume it's out of some curiosity towards the differences between our homes rather than any attempt at an autograph. You've helped me out of an unfortunate situation where I was stuck, and so I'll help your curiosity, and we can both enjoy the comfort of black tea. I can't wait.

I will concede to curiosity, not desperation. I don't have much interest in entertaining your vanity at all if you're going to be like this. [Vanity, he says, about a kid who can't stop talking about how he's going to die in the next five minutes. It's a kind of vanity, certainly...]

Let's discuss something else. Do you have any hobbies? Topics of interest?

Yes, I have quite a few. I'm a fan of tea, and in that line of thought, I have a fascination with teacups. Each time I see a new teacup, I can't help but purchase it. I have such a large collection that I have cupboards filled with unique teacups. Some are worth more than certain items at an art museum.

Ah, a collection? [That's just lame and nerdy enough to hold his attention, congratulations.] That must be quite the display you have at home... How do you categorize them? By material? Size? Era?

[He wants the fully annotated presentation.]

Country of origin and era, respectively. The smaller teacups of China would look out of place in teacups from Russia, even from the same era. So I've separated them first by country, and in each cabinet I've deemed for a country, I've organized them by the year they were made.

Of course, it's much easier to find the more modern teacups with the handles, but I do have plenty of teacups without them, as well. If there are multiple from the same country and era, I like to pay attention to color and pattern, blending them like a symphony of porcelain and subtle designs~

Fufu, it has grown quite a lot since I first started this habit of mine.

[Throughout this bizarre nerd explanation, Reim nods along, apparently very fascinated by sorting teacups. It speaks to him...]

Interesting! And do you keep a written record? Or is that where your servants step in to help?

[ya punk who doesn't do paperwork]

A written record? Hmm, that seems a little excessive. But I do have all of my receipts from the purchases. Rather, my family keeps those.

[He's not that level of nerd.] I know each of my teacups by heart. By glancing at the cabinets, I'll know if a single one is missing. Just like a single note in a symphony, the entire piece is made by the parts together. The music my collection makes would change completely if any one cup was missing.

[Hmm, judging him, hmm...] That's very impressive. You have quite the skill, to be able to remember each item like that.

But you still ought to keep a written record, in the event that something happens.

[What the hell could happen to teacups?? Not the point.]

Are you offering to record it all for me?

[He's teasing, of course, because Reim has already rejected being his servant. But still... It's more fun like this.]

I'm offering you sound advice.

[Punk... He's not doing it!! Do your own paperwork.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject