004 | voice, tw: references to psychological torture

[dracobin]

[The post is the first word from anyone in Team 7 since a few days before the 13th, and unusual for Temeraire in more than a few ways: the feed is audio only, for one, and when he speaks, for another, his voice is hesitant, slow, and clearly shaken.]

This is--

This is hardly the best time to say this, in light of all our recent difficulties, with these creatures, and I do not know where to begin--I must beg your pardon, but--

--it came for us.

[He falls silent. An astute listener might notice significantly less trilling coming from the feed than most broadcasts on the network: he has been taking out his frustration on the tribbles, and his apartment is, for the moment, mostly tribble-free. Well, mostly free of living tribbles. Pity, really, since it sounds like he might have needed the calming effect.

He takes a deep breath, and tries again.]

We were in the palace--there were interrogations to be conducted, on behalf of Evandau--and it came for us. It took us--

[Silence again. Clearly he is choosing all the wrong places to begin, and it is some time before he resumes with:] Annabeth spoke of a realm of Death, in her last post, and what I saw, for a moment, was very like her description. In any case--there is no question that is its country; that it may do whatever it likes to whomever is unfortunate enough to enter it; and that what occurs in that realm, however fleeting the event, feels as real and vivid as if it had occurred in this reality.

I know that we must fight it regardless, but I fear I cannot imagine how.

[And this time there is only a moment of silence before he lets out a quavering breath, and cuts the feed. Any responses to the post come several hours later.]

[Private to Team 7, standard encryption, French text:]
Pray respond at once; I must know if you have come to harm.

Comments

[dracobin]

[He shifts, clearly not wishing to appear weak.] I--well, it is certainly nothing worth troubling over: only a few bruises here and there, and I am otherwise uninjured.

[The bulk of what Malicant did to him was mental, after all, and he tries hard to hide his unease, even hours later.] I--beg your pardon, but I do not think we are acquainted.

[saved7]

[Miria's idea of things that need recovery from are all physical. Mental strain she just accumulates, and is used to it in other people. It's not that she doesn't recognize he might be hurt in other ways, it's that she's from a culture of women who know nothing but fighting.

So she takes his claim of being uninjured with a small nod.]

I am Miria. I am sorry we have not met before, I would have liked to have met you under different circumstances.

[After all, as far as she can tell he is a dragon, and therefore one of her ancestors, in a way.]

[dracobin]

[Fighting is another matter entirely for Temeraire, and something that might be brushed off easily. This is different. An anomaly.]

I am called Temeraire. It is hardly your fault, so you need not apologise; and anyway it is nice to meet you now.

[He has always liked meeting new people, and this time the distraction is even more welcome than usual. He peers at her, tilting his head this way and that. A warrior, certainly, judging from what he can see of her, to say nothing of the scar across her face, but--]

You have very pretty eyes, Miss Miria; I have never seen the like before.

[saved7]

That was unexpected - not commenting on her eyes, because humans at home can be rather obsessive about them, but the paying of a compliment towards them. For a second she stares, then manages to gain control of her expression, almost smiling.]

They are not common among humans of my world, either. Only warriors of the Organization in Sutafu have silver eyes like these.

[She'd offer more: explain that they're not considered desirable at home, but she's not comfortable explaining more over the network than she can control.]

[dracobin]

Oh, I thought you might be a warrior of some kind: you carry yourself like one. So you are not human?

[His question is only a curious one, without any trace of hostility: it is not, after all, as if he has much right to judge anyone for not being human.]

[saved7]

I am half-yoma.

[She's not slightly offended by the question. No one on her world would mistake her for human, after all.]

I was born human, but becoming half-yoma is the only way to fight yoma themselves on the world I come from.

[dracobin]

Yoma. [He sounds out the unfamiliar word thoughtfully.] We do not have those where I come from, I think; or if we do, I have not heard of them.

[saved7]

They are unique to my world.

[That's all she really needs to say here. There's no point explaining how she knows, and she definitely won't explain on the network.]

But we don't have dragons [Anymore?]. Regretfully.

[dracobin]

Oh, but you have heard of us? That is better than nothing, at least.

[saved7]

Stories. Legends.

[She almost smiles. Certainly, her tone carries a warmth to it, and respect.]

I didn't think I'd ever hold a conversation with one.

[dracobin]

[The warmth to her voice is something he doesn't expect, and he blinks a little.]

The stories I have heard here all involve a great deal of kidnapping princesses, and burning farms, and other extremely rude things--though I must admit a large pile of gold to sleep on sounds very comfortable. What sorts of legends do you have?

[saved7]

I'm sorry to say I don't know enough to make an interesting story.
[Miria has only a few memories of her human life, and tales of dragons weren't a big part of that.]

But most of the stories I remember had to do with ruling the sea. I don't know about kidnapping princesses; in the stories a dragon would more likely be a princess.

[dracobin]

Is that so! [Miria's world, Temeraire decides at once, is a good one.] That sounds a good deal more sensible: at least there is some other world out there, where we are not treated as mindless beasts, and are considered fit to rule.

[saved7]

[His satisfaction is so heartwarming Miria doesn't really have the inclination to tell him exactly how much her world is not a good one.]

I cannot imagine anyone who has met you would consider you a mindless beast.

[dracobin]

[He makes a faintly impatient noise.] Oh, people can be very near-sighted, when the world does not appear the way they think it ought: even parrots can talk, after all, and dogs can do tricks.

[saved7]

[A small smile again. She can see his point.]

And people can be insistent if they wish to consider someone else as an animal, I suppose.

[dracobin]

Particularly if it is far simpler we be kept out of their way, and not given property rights, or the vote. [Grumble. Dragon suffrage!!]

That is to say, it is not that way everywhere in my world: only the country where I was raised and some others, and I am working to change that.

[saved7]

[It sounds like a hard struggle, but that'snot what Miria focuses on.]

What do you mean by 'the vote?'

[dracobin]

[He blinks for a moment, but recovers quickly. A monarchy, then, perhaps. It is not the first he has encountered here.]

Why, it is the right for individuals to choose their leaders, who might then represent them in government.

[saved7]

[A monarchy would be a better government than the one they have. Miria thinks on this for a few seconds.]

And they don't extend that right to dragons.

[dracobin]

They do not: nor to women, or slaves. I have never received a satisfactory response as to why the former do not, and the latter ought not exist, in the first place.

[saved7]

[It sounds Temeraire's world might not be plagued by yoma and the war that affects everything in Miria's world. But it still is greatly flawed in many ways. This is surprisingly reassuring.]

I cannot give an explanation to either of those, either.