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

[allweather]

[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.]

Comments

[finethanks]

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.

[allweather]

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?

[finethanks]

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.

[allweather]

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.]

[finethanks]

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.

[allweather]

[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]

[finethanks]

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.

[allweather]

[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.]

[finethanks]

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.]

[allweather]

I'm offering you sound advice.

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

[finethanks]

Fufu, you're so amusing, Mr. Lunettes, I can't help but laugh. [He says, laughing... but then his laughter turns into coughing pretty immediately, and he has to raise a curled hand to cover his mouth. Give him a good moment here.]

[allweather]

[what the fuck stop DYING, how can he make fun of rich boys this way!! Reim gives him a reasonable moment before putting a hand on his back and steering him to move even if he's still coughing. Don't just stand here hacking out a lung...]

Let's get you some tea before you choke.

[finethanks]

[He coughs for a little bit into their walking, clutching tightly at his chest, but he gets control of it shortly after.]

I'm fine. It seems that the method of my arrival was so startling for my body that it's rebelling a little. Don't worry, I feel perfectly fine, and tea will only help me to feel better.

[He looks incredibly pale after that coughing fit, though, and he coughs a couple more times even now. At least it's not a fit again.]

[allweather]

[Why does this boy look like death, oh yeah...... Reim sighs and shakes his head, like he's not Terribly Worried, and is quiet for the rest of their trek to find tea regardless of how much Eichi tries to chatter at him. He is stalwart!!

Eventually, they find a nice little space cafe that sells adequate tea. Reim deposits Eichi at a table and looks at him for a long beat before sitting down and immediately holding a menu up in front of his own face. Ugh, ill boy.]

Do you have any allergies? [reim]

[finethanks]

Not that I'm aware of.

[He's only allergic to LIFE.] If I were allergic to something, I probably would have found out by now. My body wouldn't be able to take it, and I'd die quickly. [He picks up his own menu, taking a look at it.]

I may not look like it, but I'm a fan of meat. Do you think they have steak? [This is a CAFE...]

[allweather]

[Reim, having had minimal and genuinely strange experience being a pseudo-father to a murderous little baby before this moment, uses this to his advantage now: he has already mastered the "you didn't say what I think you just said" Parent Look, which he gives Eichi after lowering his menu just enough to make it really count.

What kind of absurdity??]

You aren't ordering a steak with tea.

[finethanks]

Is that unfit for commoners? I'm unfamiliar with small shops like this. What about pork chops?

[He's pure and innocent and ignoring every look about his death talk he gets.]

[allweather]

That's even worse! Order a scone or something remotely appropriate. A cake!

[Also who is a commoner, there are no commoners at this table, he's the son of an earl so shut up!! Order a scone.]

[finethanks]

[Eichi laughs, but not too much just in case he starts coughing again.]

A lemon-rosemary scone, then, maybe. Do you think they have that? [He hasn't even read this menu at all, but he glances down at it.] We can have steak another time.

[allweather]

Why are you deciding that for me...?

[Who said anything about future steak dinners?? For all Eichi knows, Reim has dinner plans from now until forever. Like, he doesn't, and he supposes he'll research which space restaurants serve the best steak, but listen. He stares at the menu again.]

They have at least one type of lemon scone. Just lemon.

[finethanks]

[He's deciding this because he is the Emperor, thanks.]

Just lemon? Hmm. That's a problem. The savory taste of the scone is lost without the rosemary. It's a completely different flavor. If it's something more simple, maybe cranberry will do.

[allweather]

[No, that seems fake. Anyway, Reim can't sit here all day talking about scones without any tea to drink in front of him, so,]

Well, which one is it? You have twenty seconds to decide.

[finethanks]

Oh, I'm being timed? How demanding. If I make a decision that I end up regretting, I'll have to carry that weight with me for the rest of my life. If I choose a scone that doesn't work well with the tea, I don't know if I would be able to stand it.

[He takes up about 19 seconds rambling about how this is a tough decision before:] Alright, I've decided. Blueberry!

[A completely different one.]

[allweather]

[Kiddo, it's just tea, but also Reim understands this level of nerdery so he actually has no objections to this weird speech. Carry on.]

Blueberry it is! In that case, hold on— [As The Adult here, Reim will take it upon himself to flag down a server and order the most acceptable-looking black tea for both of them "with all the fixings," which surely is the normal way to order, plus a blueberry scone, and some kind of cute little cherry tart for himself. Only babies have to order scones.]

[finethanks]

[A tart for a tart.]

I didn't have to waste my breath at all. You're so kind, Mr. Lunettes. With you at my side, I can't help but feel a little more relaxed. [Haha, because he's doing all these convenient things for him... But really, he does appreciate it, even as the spoiled brat he is.]

I'm certain the tea will only help with that.