[recslionel]

mattkowalczyk‌:

Matt didn’t know many people on the Visitor, and he figured he knew less now. He hadn’t heard yet how many were lost, but he was sure it was more than a few. They’d fallen out of the sky onto an alien planet with no warning. It was hard to imagine something like that happening without any casualties. So hearing a familiar voice was something of a relief, and he let his shoulders slump as an invisible weight was lifted from them. He still didn’t know where Yael was, but at least he wasn’t alone. That meant something. “Hey, man,” he greeted. “I’d wave, but I think my arm’s broken. I hope it’s just broken.” He tilted his head, trying to get a better look at Lionel. “You in one piece?”

He began to panic, hoping that Matt hadn’t suffered anything more than a broken arm himself. He had few friends on the ship and he wouldn’t wish any harm on those he did trust. “Don’t worry,” reassured Lionel as he approached him. “We can fix it, I think. I don’t know.” His brain had been scattered completely, his memory blurry from the event of the crash and his eyesight sore from the constant stream of sunlight and the reflections the metals of the ship gave off. “I will be ok. We should. . . We should find a doctor. Do you know any doctors?”

[felixsmartinez]

Somehow, he’d survived the crash. Matt wasn’t entirely sure how. It wasn’t as if he’d been overtly concerned with his own survival when the ship had been going down, after all, but here he was all the same. A little messed up, sure — he was pretty sure his arm was fucked, to the point that he couldn’t even feel the pain through the numbness anymore — but alive. That was something. Sitting against some broken part of the ship, he sighed and glanced up as someone approached. “Some vacation, right? I’m so glad I dished out the cash to catch this ride.”

[recslionel]

Lionel had never felt something like that before. It was terrifying and sort of beautiful; in a pretentious way, where all the stars mixed into one awfully large swab of white light and made him think that he’d passed on. He was admittedly a bit disappointed to wake up tucked securely beneath some unidentified rubble. Wriggling away from the death grip the strip of metal had on him, Lionel managed to stumble toward someone nearby - someone familiar. “Matt,” he breathed. “My friend. Are you alright- oh, of course you’re not. Fuck.”

[renata-c]

Renata stood at the corner of the holiday party, not sure what she was doing there. She wasn’t a huge fan of the people there, but — hell, it was a lot larger than the cramped room she lived in with all the roommates. The blonde didn’t drink, but she was going to just interact with everyone she could.

“I know, I know. I’m not really the best at conversation,” she said, walking to the closest person she saw. “But I’m gonna try. Hi.”

[recslionel]

Lionel used to be an excellent party-goer in his youth. If there was a piano in the vicinity, he’d draw the crowd toward him with a song and go from there, somehow the instrument guiding him into a night of fun. But there was no piano in sight, so he had to use what wits he could muster through his rum and eggnog and see where that took him.

“Hello,” greeted Lionel, a smile on his face as he was quietly relieved that he’d been approached first. “That’s quite alright. I suppose I’m not the best at it either.”

[recslionel]

mechcharlied‌:

She grinned at the newfound comradery, giving a semi dramatic sigh at just the thought of eating something from home again.  There was something so… cold about the food they ate on board.  Not that it was physically cold, but rather it lacked the heart that even heating up a frozen pizza seemed to include. “Same”, she grinned, moving forward with the line, “With my grandmothers instead.  Even if it weren’t a whole meal, just her mashed potatoes”, she said dreamily.

“My mother preferred baked potatoes,” said Lionel with a small laugh as he winced inwardly at the rations tossed onto his tray. He remembered his grandmother in that instant - she never learned to cook, so it was a wonder his mother was well versed in the kitchen at all. But nonetheless, he appreciated the boxed goods she would contribute on Christmas. Even those were more appetizing than what they were being served on the Visitor. “If we were allowed to bring food on board, I’d have no clothes or items. Just pastries.”

[rpmusings-galore]

                            i would do whatever it took to protect you 

                            let my hands drip  r e d  to keep you safe, 

                                            keep you smiling bright enough 

                                            to overwhelm the sun, herself

                             so you need never fear the shadows, again

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“Lucky man.”

“Right? You should work on that.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“I’m getting up there too, but who knows. I’m sure they’ll drag every man to do it in some way.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. I just hope they don’t want me to raise it. My back got blown out at 45.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“I’m half expecting all of us men to become baby daddies right away as a job. The world has to repopulate somehow, right?”

Lionel let out a laugh at this. “I’m sure they’ll try and tie you down to that, yes. But being fifty and gay doesn’t exactly work in my favor.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“How do you think that pay is going to work out for you on the new world?”

“I’d honestly rather not think about that - though maybe they’d make me a vacation planner or something and pay me the same.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“It’s why I picked up a gun. No managing shit for me, no trying desperately hard to make strangers happy.”

“Understandable. It’s not for everyone. Isn’t really for me most days. But, it pays, so.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“Now that sounds awfully rewarding, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t get me started.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“Spec Ops Commander.”

“Oh. Interesting.” Lionel blinked. “Recreational manager.”

[recslionel]

romanhartonen‌:

“Must be nice to be able to have that faith in the crew. I wish I did, but I’m just — I’m just a realist. It’s in my job description to be one.”

“Are you?” inquired Lionel with a raised brow. “And what job requires you to think that way?” He couldn’t protest the idea of following a set of morals based on your job - he had to remain a certain amount of perky for his position, at least in front of crowds, despite whatever chaos might come.

[matcheddani]

Charlie sighed, eyeing how much further she had to go in line and dreading the wait to eat.  Ever since the malfunction was fixed, it seemed like no one ever skipped a meal, and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or reality, but the lines had seemed to double from before.  She was bored.  The brunette turned around to the person behind her, shooting them a friendly grimace, if that were even possible.  “It’s nice to have food again, but do you ever just…miss the taste of a home cooked meal? It’s things like that I never thought would even cross my mind on the ship”, she said.  She hated complaining about food, especially so soon after they got theirs back, but it seemed like as good a way to start a conversation as any.

[recslionel]

With his eyes scanning the food being evenly distributed to each passenger in line, Lionel felt his stomach twist in unbelievable hunger and slight jealousy. So, naturally, when the woman in front of him began to speak and mentioned home cooked meals, he couldn’t help but divulge internally into all the delicacies he hadn’t set eyes on in almost ninety years. “Every single day.” said Lionel with a waning smile. He recalled the savory escalivada; a small dish of grilled vegetables that he would prepare regularly for his late husband in the summer. Oppositely was panellets; marzipan cookies decorated with pine nuts and varnished with egg that his mother would make for All Saints’ Day. Lionel tried to push the thoughts away, but once they resurfaced they were more than difficult to bottle up again. “I think I’d go back just to eat my mother’s food one last time.” he added.

[romanhartonen]

Roman tried to ignore the aching pain of the bruises on his eye and nose, unhappy that he ended up in a fight with someone during the mess of the ship stopping so suddenly. “Yeah, here’s hoping this is the end of everything, right? Just smooth sailing from here?”

[recslionel]

Lionel observed the stars moving peacefully outside the ship, still in the process of registering their incredible luck since the malfunction. Despite his attention set to half, he provided an answer. “Yes. I for one have plenty of faith in the rest of the crew.” he said honestly. 

[recslionel]

matt + lionel

[recslionel]

mattkowalczyk‌:

“We’re all here,” Matt replied with a shrug. At the moment, he’d wager no one wanted to be on the Visitor. Things were malfunctioning, and there was a pretty decent chance that they’d die there, but they’d known going in that it wasn’t a risk-free journey. Space travel always came with risks.  He grinned as his glass clinked against the stranger’s, wriggling his brows and bringing the cup to his mouth. It was better drinking with someone else, he decided. 

Nodding as he downed the rest of his drink in one go, he offered the man another smile. “Cheers,” he repeated.

Lionel had nothing to return that with except for a curt nod, as that was certainly the case. They’d only had themselves to blame as well. He couldn’t help but feeling a dull pain in the shadows of his heart when he remembered how he was able access to the Visitor at all - the lottery. Imagine that. People had been warning other people over lotteries since they came into existence, but no outcome could have ever been as catastrophic. What a lottery it was.

He swiped his tongue over his mouth to catch the remnants of alcohol on his lips, desperate for each sip he could salvage. “I’m Lionel,” he introduced at last.

[recslionel]

matt + lionel

[recslionel]

mattkowalczyk‌:

It was strange, the way the man was studying him. Matt was typically easygoing, but he couldn’t help but shift under the guy’s gaze, wondering what the hell was going on in his head. He’d never liked being looked at too closely; he figured that was a staple for addicts, one of the things they had in common. If someone was looking closely enough, they were bound to see all the things you were hiding. It wasn’t something Matt wanted from his family and friends, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted from a stranger. 

“Well, then I guess you shouldn’t have come to space,” he snorted with a shrug. Everyone had their own reasons for coming along on the Visitor, he knew. Some people were running towards something, buying into the whole ‘build a better future’ line. He wondered if this man was one of the ones running away from something, one of the ones looking to escape Earth more than they wanted to get to Abellio. “Sure, I can toast,” he agreed, holding up his glass with a grin. “Hell of a toast, man!” Still grinning, he tipped the contents of his glass down his throat. “See? This isn’t so bad!”

“You’re right. My fault entirely.” said Lionel truthfully as he looked away. He didn’t quite believe in his proposed toast, but it was a better ice breaker than speaking directly about the malfunction any longer. It was happening, he had no God to turn to or deity to worship, so he would die alone, or perhaps with this man, in that room, and rot in a space ship a billion miles from home with a shot glass in his hand. That was pitiful, but as he raised his glass above his head and smiled solemnly, he considered the notion that it was hilarious as well. 

He laughed aloud as he thought more about it, not intending to initially but also not holding back as he took a long sip of his drink. “It surely isn’t. Cheers.”