lucetilogs | Out with the old....

Entry tags:

Out with the old....

Who: Everyone
What: New Year's.
When: Dec. 31st, New Year's Eve, to Jan 1st, New Year's Day.
Where: Everywhere
Summary: It's New Year's, and the people of Luceti have a lot to reflect upon, and to look forward to. And on a more meta level, new journal names.
Rating: We'll see...

New Year's brings images of crowds, and songs, and fireworks; staying up til midnight and watching balls or bells being rung. But Luceti is a different time and place. Whether you're partying with friends or watching the sunrise, what are you doing today?

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"No, but they aren't uncommon around here, are they?"

It wouldn be no surprise if this were the case, and knew that his plight was likely similar to any sailors trapped in the enclosure. They had no sea to sail on, no distant shore to aim for. Though he never trekked to his destination by the position of the stars, he understood the feeling, the idea of it.

He smiles at the stranger. "You could say that I'm something of a collector by trade." Stories and memories were a collection, right? "But you sound like you're familiar with sailing. You do it often?"

"Not at all."

He smiles. Plenty of pirates, an increasing number of - ugh - Naval personnel, and a few citizens who were neither but lived by the waves none the less. And then the smile fades till it is slight. All hemmed in. It is better here than when he first arrived - no ocean then, only desert - but still, what they have could hardly be called a sea. Oceans aren't supposed to have boundaries - in his world, one takes to the waters to be free - and the barriers out there are obscene.

What they have in Luceti is a mockery.

But it is better than nothing.

"Sailor." Pirate. "It's my life."

"Should'a figured."

He found himself wondering why their handlers kept on bringing in people whose existances were the complete antithesis of what was offered in Luceti.

If his friends found out later, they'd laugh. He had to ask, nonetheless.

"I need your thoughts, as a seafarer yourself. You're probably used to having free horizons to sail toward and all--how do you not go crazy in this place?"

"Personally? I keep as busy as all hell. I run the Battle Dome clinic, I train, I teach... many things. It helps a bit having your mind focused on other things and not exclusively on the situation. No cure for it, not at all, but it keeps the stir craziness manageable... most of the time."

Such things have been on his mind as of late - ever since the journal broadcast of Miss Nami and the conversation with her later that night. Heavy heavy thoughts... and now they go back and recall the conversation that had taken place between you and his fellow pirate.

"I may have, also, developed far more of a love for the drink than most would consider healthy, but that's true for many in this place. Everyone needs a non Malnosso induced vacation from reality once in a while."

Nevermind due to his tolerance for the stuff, the times he gets drunk are rare indeed.

"Hey, sometimes enjoying a few drinks helps too. No shame there, especially when its free."

It was a small joke, but also something he was sure he wouldn't easily get used to. Everything being free took away his raison d'etre, and part of what sent him off on wanderings for the sake of being busy. From what the man was describing, it did explain some of why people looked so homey in the place. It was part of their own quest to keep occupied.

"That's certainly an interesting way of looking at things." He offered a hand. "The name's Lupin. Arsene Lupin III."

"Can't argue with that."

It's part, yes. Another part is that the longer people are here, the more worn they become. It's like keeping yourself from drowning in a ocean. You can tread water and try to swim to safety, but after a while, even the strongest tire. Not only from wasted energy struggling, but the elements taking its toll. And you either have the choice to try to grab hold to something and float or slip beneath the waves. It looks like giving up from a distance, and in some cases maybe it is, but it's often trying to save your strength for that indeterminate time when salvation beckons and you have to give it your all to seize hold.

It's not complacency in many cases. It's just floating.

He takes it and gives it a firm shake. "Trafalgar Law."

The name brought to mind Trafalgar Square and his many trips to London--and all the fun he had pretending to be a local so he could give tourists bad directions. Lupin smiled at the memory. "That's a pretty cool name you have there," he said. "Nice meeting you."

"I'm still new here, so maybe it hasn't hit me yet...but I don't plan on getting too comfy here." He had his reasons, the most important of which was that such a settled life was not in his blood at all. It he were created for such domesticity, he never would have left France and probably would be some actor or tinkerer somewhere.

He didn't believe that he could ever get comfortable in such a place.

"Aa?" A genuinely interested sound and an expression of wry sheepishness, "I must confess, you're the only one who thinks so. Most people find Trafalgar just too troublesome." His lips quirk. "It is a bit of a mouthful."

He adjusts the nodachi that's resting against his shoulder, "Most people around here just call me Law."

"No one does." Law sounds slightly apologetic as he steals another glance at the warm buildings. New here. Yes, you are. "No one really should. But. Well..."

"You know what they say about best laid plans and all."

"Yeah, your name reminds me of a place from my home. Then again, that country has a lot of unusual place names. Trafalgar. Buckingham . Greenwich. Picadilly. Leicester. That's just a few" There's a sly smile, as if saying that Law should be glad he doesn't have any of those other names. "I don't mind mouthfuls either--my name is kind of one too. You wouldn't believe how many people I get mispronouncing it! But, I'll call you Law if that makes it easier. You can just call me Lupin."

He's aware that he's chattering. Talking on the fly helps him think, even more so than fishing or scribbling out notations. The passing glances don't go unnoticed on him.

"Just so you know," he says, calmer. "My plans never fail. Did you want to go inside? It's a little cold out here."

Edited 2012-01-04 14:05 (UTC)

Urgh. He's very grateful he doesn't have a name such as those. Some of those... well, what were they thinking? But he couldn't talk too much. His world... they had some interesting ones of their own. Very interesting.

"I think I'll count myself lucky. Lupin it is, then." His eyebrows perk slightly, but he makes no comment. My plans never fail, huh? How many times has he heard that one. Instead. "Try to figure that one out, actually. Do I want to brave the crowd and get a hot drink or stay here and enjoy the fireworks that they're about to put on."

Even if his plans did fail, there were always plans B through Gamma.03. There were many, many paths to success, and he always found one.

He shrugs at the question, already thinking of a way to make everything work. "Why not do both? You can always climb onto a roof to get a good view, especialy if we're quick enough."

He'll look forward to seeing those in action, then.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Although he doesn't climb onto roofs, usually, just leap straight up and land where he wants to be.

He would. It might not be for a few weeks, or even months, but Lupin was starting to formulate the basis of a plan. Even if unsuccessful, it would make him feel better. That was the important part.

Lupin couldn't help but smile at the man's responce. He loved it when people understood the idea of taking a third choice when only a couple were offered. "It does. An Irish coffee is starting to sound pretty good right about now."

Whiskey was on his brain in the same way that fireworks and future plans were. It was kind of just there that night, like many of the quirks that were ever present but that he didn't want to get used to.

"I've never had one of those. I tend to have my drinks straight. Sake, rum, scotch..."

But alcohol combined with his absolute favorite vice, coffee, was sounding very appealing indeed. And so he began silently walking towards the bright, warm lights.

"Is it good?"

"It's coffee with Irish cream and whiskey in it, and some barkeeps top it with whipped cream and creme de menthe. Yeah it's good."

Lupin cheerfully followed along, glad to be talking about lighter things.

"Whiskey, huh? I think that's right up my alley." Not sure about the whipped cream, but hey, let's be daring. It wouldn't kill him to have it once. "Sounds like it would have a nice bite to it."

And not be too sweet. Sugary things and Law just did not get on.

"It does, and with it being made of hot coffee and all, it's pretty perfect for a night like this."

With the cold air, the festivities, and the remnants of prior snowfalls, Lupin was feeling a little more revitalized. A part of him debated on shareing his thoughts further with his new friend, but he'd already compromised his agenda enough during his short stay. He had to be careful with who else he let into the fold.

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Out with the old....

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