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

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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

All right! If you'll agree to share what information you collect, I'm happy to add to your survey.

The final draft will be much more professional, I assure you.

[Don't look too closely at his sloppy as hell rough draft, on second thought... how shameful.]

So, please go on.

( We're so sorry, Reim, he's just. Going to double check: )

So you'll be sharing that final draft?

I will if I actually receive answers.

[VICTOR...]

( HE'S ALREADY MET SOMEONE WHO IS LIKE "I COULD SHARE INFO BUT I MAY NOT" HE'S GOTTA CHECK??? )

Just making sure!

My name is Victor Nikiforov. I've never been to space before, but space is a place where people have gone from my world and time. Usually just to the moon and back. There's a space station orbiting the planet, too, but that's not like this at all. I'm familiar with the concepts of things on this starship, and more is familiar enough for me to figure out than unfamiliar. I forget what was in my duffel bag! What was in yours?

[Reim will air everyone's dirty laundry if he has to, he's prepared to do that!! Thanks for finally answering his perfectly normal questions.]

You forgot what was in the bag? [dude] I listed my items in the body of the report.

Why go to the moon?

I've had other things on my mind! It's probably everything you wrote up above. I didn't think I was supposed to read everything...

Why not the moon? It's close. If you wanted to see if you could get there before anyone else, why not the moon?

It may be a rough draft but you should at least check the contents before asking questions!

[JEEZ..... anyway he doesn't understand shit about the space race. Even flight is a mystery.]

I have an additional question for you before addressing the moon: What year is it?

( look it said confidential then it turned out to be "I'm lost and confused" that is not news )

I have a question before I answer your question: does the phrase "Gregorian calendar" mean anything to you?

[okay first of all you come into his house,

Also let's pretend that phrase is real even though PH uses some fake calendar with different names for everything else, whatever.]

You are very frustrating to interview, Mr. Nikiforov. Meaning no offense.

That said: yes. What year is it?

( post on SNS receive exactly this kind of reaction, welcome to the Future, Reim

the future

and yes that works )

None taken! It's not the first time someone's felt that way.

Anyway, the Gregorian calendar isn't one everyone here knows. Based on that calendar, I'm from 2016/17! Right around the turn of the new year.

[The Future is a strange and terrible place. He wants to go back to oil lamps and innocence.]

Oh.

[Give him, like, ten minutes. He needs the whole ten.]

Then I will have to consider myself "behind the times," literally...

( The human species has never been innocent, no fronting. Victor doesn't think there's going to be anything past that "oh." That there is, eventually, surprises him. )

Even I am, so don't feel too bad. People help you figure out the differences when you ask, or stand there looking confused for long enough.

[Do they all ask 50 questions back first, Victor... do they......]

I wouldn't say "confused"... Perhaps something more like "panicking"?

[He's just a ye olde secretary, he can admit this Online.]

( oh. OH. oooooh. he feels an empathetic pang at reading that, because it's suddenly having him consider what this would be like for Yuri, suddenly pulled into this place and out of his element and just...

Suffice to say, for a moment, Victor feels like an ass. The guilt and his own internal panic at not having been there for Yuri at the GPF, which surely is done by now, sits poorly in his heart. He sits forward, Makkachin looking up from where he's lounging elsewhere in the room. )

That's no good. I've got a few hours before I need to report back on anything related to work. Would you like to take a walk around the main sections of the ship? It's pretty impressive, and much more companionable to explore with company.

( Ignore the redundancy in that statement, please. (Or don't...) )

[Does he want to walk around the ship, no, he wants to go home to his desk that sits on the ground and doesn't float around in some impossibly vast nothingness, and what will taking a walk really do for him!!—but it would be rude to just say all of that, so he considers.

Funnily enough, it's the redundancy that actually sways him, somehow. Companionable company... something about it is amusing in a very simple way; perhaps because Reim is ultimately a dweeb, but. Details. Victor fumbling his offer is endearing and that's enough, apparently??]

I suppose I should familiarize myself with the layout before I'm expected at my new position... Thank you, that would be nice.

( The people who think Victor Nikiforov is suave dealing with people on a daily basis have never met Victor Nikiforov, the guy who tries to convince his student to not overexert himself by talking at him through a stuffed plush tissue box cover. Or Victor Nikiforov, the drunk who strips at a restaurant because he wants to go to a hot springs, five minutes ago. Or Victor Nikiforov, the guy spitting out his drink when he learns his fiance doesn't remember how they first met.

Then again, it's that Victor Nikiforov that's been learning how to handle people as people, and for all he fumbles and doesn't necessarily get things right, it's a better effort and an allowance he can grant himself now that hadn't been possible for the last twenty years of his life. Yuri might not be here right now; no one familiar from home that he knows is present, but he has himself, he has Makkachin, and he can cling to the life he'd been building by remembering what it was he was learning from living with and coaching Yuri the last eight months.

What it really boils down to is a firm nod to himself, clutching one fist and looking back to Makkachin to say, "Reim said yes!" And in looking at his dog, pausing to recognise there are other things he should check on. )

You're welcome! I can come meet you where you are. It should be easiest. Though, one more question! How do you feel about dogs?

( Panic and anxiety bring to mind that he doesn't want to incite more, and while he does not like leaving Makkachin alone in their studio for long, it's a necessary sacrifice if it's only going to further upset Reim. Right? He thinks that could be the case. )

[Ah, he'll have to leave the relative safety of his room (which he's decided has to be safe if anything here is safe, otherwise he will genuinely lose his ye olde mind) to loiter around waiting for Victor rather than having him come in, won't he...? He supposes that's fine; he'll get up and make his way out to the hall while he starts a reply, and then after a moment's consideration, the common area.

But dogs. He sighs to himself, scratching at his cheek... Dogs.]

You have a dog? [aaaa...] I suppose the only dogs I find objectionable are the ones that bite.

I am in the north side common area on the second floor.

( ... Makkachin doesn't bite. This will probably be fine? He pushes up to his feet, pulling on his jacket with the comm set on the desk. Once he's ready (he's in a blue suit going to go pick someone up for a walk around a spaceship, his life has been officially surreal the last week plus) he calls Makkachin to his side, sending off a lass missive before heading out the door, tags tucked into his pocket. )

Makkachin is my dog. He's very affectionate, but I'll keep him at my side if you're not comfortable with licking.

( Makkachin definitely enjoys greeting everyone he can with his tongue. Victor heads out, giving Makkachin a command to heel at his side, which more or less is obeyed. Makkachin gives himself a thorough shakeoff as they head down the corridor, heading toward Reim's stated location. On the look for anyone who appears to be loitering instead of lounging on purpose, Victor lifts a hand in a small, passive sort of wave as he smiles, calling out and hoping he's going to get better with names here than he has been so far. )

Reim Lunettes?

( Does he mangle that name? Not so badly, but it's not perfect, either. )

Victor Nikiforov.

( Either way, here's his hand held out for shaking. Makkachin stays at his side, as he's been signaled to do... and is listening for now. )

[That's the weirdest name for a dog he's ever heard, which seems much easier to think about while he waits than the fact that he's waiting to go on a walking tour of some... spaceship. Craft. Thing. Some impossible chunk of metal that should not be in the air, meaning they are all going to die soon, or he is hallucinating everything.

One of the two. He realizes, also, that he has no idea who he's waiting for beisdes the fact that Victor has a dog, so he's looking for pets first before he looks at any passing stranger's face. Ah—

That certainly is almost his name.]

Please, call me Reim. [Please?? It's easier to say. He obliges with a handshake and only glances down at Makkachin, like, twice.] Thank you for coming, again...

( Makkachin wags his tail when he thinks he's being looked at, but otherwise is politely sticking to Victor's side. Part of it is because he's stuck by Victor through all the last week, and it doesn't look like that's changing anytime soon.

He smiles, tipping his head toward Reim. )

Reim, then. You're welcome! How much of the ship have you investigated so far? Much more than this residential area?

[Reim looks at Makkachin again - yes, hello, nice dog, please stay there - before smiling politely back at Victor. Ah, how lost is he good question.

Because that is what the question really is, considering-] I know how to get to the "medbay." That is about it. I'm sorry, I've been preoccupied with... everything else.

( Makkachin wags his tail again, breathing out in a sigh as he sniffs the air. Victor glances down at this dog, patting his head absently before he flashes a short lived smile Reim's way. )

There's quite a lot to be preoccupied by! Don't worry, it's okay. Why don't I show you to the shopping centre? Important for food, drink, and all the little necessities and niceties of life.

( New arrivals might have need of things like toiletries (he sure had), but that begs another... question. Or nine. Victor simply starts with one as he calls to Makkachin and starts walking, not checking to see if Reim is likewise walking. Why wouldn't he be? )

Is there anything you want to pick up for yourself? A toothbrush, comb, an... eyeglass repair kit?

( It could be a necessity?! )

There are kits?

[He's changed his mind completely about the future, the future is Amazing... It's definitely a necessity!! But, ah—he is indeed walking, and as he walks reaches into an inside pocket of his very Victorian overcoat to pull out a little brown leather notebook.

Which he flips open to a particular page, and holds up slightly to indicate this is what he's now talking about,] In the meantime, I've made a short list of the essentials. The shopping center is an ideal first location to visit.

[Spoiler: it's not a short list.]

Edited 2016-12-21 03:26 (UTC)

( He can't help it. He laughs hearing Reim's tone as he verifies; nodding yes, yes there are kits. Likely there's also laser surgery, but Victor has no real need or impetus to say as much.

Makkachin keeps pace, watching the world of the ship as they pass by and head through the corridors toward the shopping centre. Looks like he's found a temporary shopping buddy, though the fact Reim is pulling out a notebook and referencing it for a list has him quirking his eyebrows upward. He leans in, definitely a little nosy, but at the same time is taking care not to actually invade Reim's space all that much. It's just a casual lean over, eyes flicking to the notebook, then back ahead of them both. )

Really? Wow, you're right on top of things. What's highest on your list?

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