Zanna looked up from her work taking a bit of a breath and forcing a pleasant smile on. Of course she would love cuddles, but that would mean showing weakness. The last time she did that ended up badly. Extremely bad. She let out a breath, "No. No, I'm good. But thank you anyways."
Vic had to grip the edge of the counter to stop his hands from shaking. How was he doing? He rubbed his hands raw every day trying to rid them of crimson streaks that were no longer there. He spent hours on his knees, soap frothing between his fingers, washing phantom stains away from the last place his friends had stood. He wore Maxym's sweater and polished Jadie's glass-blown lamp, woke up crying in the dead of night, curled up in his bed as his malformed lungs tried and failed to expand.
He turned his palm to the ceiling, the Crythian version of a thumbs-up. He didn't believe his friend for a second, but he didn't press. Instead, he twisted around to pull a quilt from the back of a padded chair and held it out. A threadbare comfort, but the best he could do right now.
Echo's scanners reported frighteningly low levels of serotonin in her friend's body. She ran through several possible responses to this, but none of them seemed quite right for the situation. But, after a brief and cautious trip through her memory drive, an idea came to mind.
The ship's alabaster walls were lined with divots. When pressed and pulled in any direction, these divots would widen to create portholes.
In a matter of minutes, the entire common room ceiling had given way to thick glass panelling. The light of a thousand stars filled the space, lining each piece of furniture in silver. Echo, pleased by this, took Zanna by the hand and led them to a padded chair, which she nudged them towards. "Sit, dear," she hummed, "I'll make you something to eat."
(I don't know anything about hormones lmao, excuse my bullshitting)
(Lol you good.)
Zanna had half limped over as they had attached it limply to walk over to the chair. She sat down in the chair and took her leg off again and went to finishing the fine-tuning on her leg. They took a breath and made a humming noise as they worked. She finished her work and reattached the leg and looked up at Echo almost void-like despite the pure wonder around them. The silvery light almost never failed to put Zanna in awe except for after the event. They could hardly think of it as anything else. She sighed and looked back down at her hands, "You don't need to do that, but if you want to."
Saral didn't look down at the quilt he offered, eyes on Vic's face instead as she fiddled with her ring. When she did reach out, it wasn't for the quilt. It was to lightly and hesitantly touch his hand, the hand holding the mug shaking just barely. "Take care of yourself, too, Vic. You can't always worry about us, and never about yourself." She said, her hand closing around his for a brief moment. Then she was pulling it back, wrapping her arm around herself and shaking her head. "It's so quiet. Quieter, I guess."
(Hey guys, sorry. Went on a road trip yesterday so things were a bit hectic)
Vic winced. His oversized ears, furred at the tips, angled themselves flat against the side of his head as if warding off the silence.
“Ready?” he croaked instead of answering. We’ve almost reached Syxille. We’ve almost reached Ennet. Blood… there would be so much blood. Pain—and not just for the traitor. No mercy would be granted, not for him, never for him.
He released a shaky breath.
If Echo was human, she might have shrugged. But as she wasn’t, the little droid merely draped a blanket over Zanna’s legs and shifted so she was positioned directly in front of them. “Are you sure you don’t need to talk? I can delete it from my memory drive afterwards. Or I can keep it.” She tilted her head to one side, waiting.
"No, no I'm good," Zanna ran a hand through her hair. They let out a sigh before figuring they could do a manual memory wipe if Echo didn't do it, "Well, maybe good is inaccurate. I just had thought we were closer and wouldn't end up betraying eachother. Guess I was wrong again and now were here. Two of-"
Zanna had to stop as her breathing hitched, "Two of our friends gone and the traitors ready to be executed. They're gone and nothing's going to be the same now. And I guess I can't handle that."
"No." Saral responded, the honest answer feeling like a piece of food stuck in her throat. Like just speaking about what was going to come was going to unravel the careful calm and put-togetherness she'd worked so hard to build up, just a few words so close to stealing her air. "I'm not. I don't think there's any way to ever be. But…it's going to happen, and it needs to happen. And that, at least, kinda feel like preparing myself. Knowing that. Let me guess, you aren't ready either?"
“As a droid,” Echo said, “I’m not very good with emotions. But I have researched this matter extensively and I’ve learned that it’s best to take things one step at a time. Don’t push yourself Small progress is still progress.” She paused here, selecting a new memory file. “Does remembering them hurt more, or console you?”
Vic hopped off the counter before she could read his expression. One benefit of his faulty body, perhaps the only one, was that he had an excuse not to reply to things. All he had to do was tap his throat, and the crew would assume it was hurting more than normal and leave him be.
He began to tighten the diaphanous sash at his waist, hands trembling. No, he was not ready. How could he be? Max and Jadie were dead, Ennet was at fault, and they were hurtling towards one of the most corrupt monarchies in the galaxy to hunt him down and end his life. And while Zanna and Sar wove fail-proof plans, he clung to the feeble hope that they’d never find their former friend.
"What do you think?" Zanna half snapped back. She inhaled and kept her tears at bay. They let the breath out and responded in a queit resigned manner, "Hurts more."
"How could anyone really be ready for this." Saral whispered, eyes on her tea again. Her floodgates were so unsteady, waiting for any moment to let loose the torrent of emotions she'd refused to let herself actually feel since that night. It was a struggle, constantly. A struggle to keep sane, keep going, without Jadie there, without Max. Her family. You have family left, still. You can't let them down too. "Did you know that the smaller a star is, the longer it'll live?" She asked suddenly, changing the subject for both of their sakes. It wasn't even really a question, more just putting it out there, something other than the thing they all needed to deal with but couldn't.
(I wonder where @Izzy-is-a-Christmas-cat is?)
Echo didn't respond verbally. She tapped a compartment in her chest instead, leaning forwards as it popped open. Inside was a folded handkerchief, a few packaged sweets, and a small circular pod on which she had downloaded music.
"Approaching Syxille in—" Vic silenced the automated voice with a gentle tap on a telescreen imbedded in the wall. He didn't want to know, and he doubted Sar did, either.
From his throat came a slow succession of clicks. The Crythian way of expression satisfaction; a milder equivalent to a smile. The little fact was oddly poetic—here they were, a tiny ship against a floating imperial city, a red dwarf against a supergiant.
Zanna let out a sad little laugh as she saw what Echo had. They hadn't been expecting that from the droid, but then again what else would Echo have. She looked to Echo as she took a sweet and popped it in, "Thanks Echo. What would we do without you?"
(Zoey?)
"I imagine that's a rhetorical question?" Echo straightens again and the compartment snaps shut. "I haven't quite managed to grasp the finer points of human interaction yet."
(Oops Echo. No idea where that came from.)
"Yes that was a rhetorical question," Zanna responded letting out a sigh and looking back down at her prosthetics. She had nothing left to occupy herself with and really were hoping they were arriving at their destination soon. She looked up at Echo, "I know that. Say, do you got anything that needs fixing right now?"
"Approaching Syxille in—" Vic silenced the automated voice with a gentle tap on a telescreen imbedded in the wall. He didn't want to know, and he doubted Sar did, either.
From his throat came a slow succession of clicks. The Crythian way of expression satisfaction; a milder equivalent to a smile. The little fact was oddly poetic—here they were, a tiny ship against a floating imperial city, a red dwarf against a supergiant.
Vic's response was something she was familiar with, and the sound brought a tiny smile to her own face. Saral took a couple large gulps of the rest of the tea, before setting the mug back down and hopping up onto the counter to look around the room. "They do that because their rate of fuel consumption is slower." She continued, finding comfort in the thing that had never let her down. Stars. "They have less of the fuel, but because of that, they have to use it up slower. Big stars burn bright and fast, and go out at the same rate. They're the ones people see, for the time they're around. Then-" She held up her hands, making an explosion gesture with her hands. "-fwoosh."
According to Echo's research, victims of grief could want to keep themselves busy in order to keep intrusive thoughts or painful memories out. She had recognized this symptom in Zanna over the past month, and was only too happy to point her in the direction of The Outcast's storage rooms. "Something—a box, perhaps—has bumped one of the pipes and dislodged a nail. There's also an old space heater in there, if you'd like to take a look. It's old, but I've heard Saral commenting on the cold."
Fwoosh, indeed. Vic remembered his first supernova down to the last detail—they'd brought the ship to a stop (a safe distance away) about a week after their escape. After a lifetime of sterile laboratory walls and grimy prison floors, the eruption of colour and light, the immense, catastrophic beauty of the event, had very nearly caused him to cry.
He motioned for Saral to continue, smothering a few clicks before they could emerge.
Zanna slowly stood up and gave a slightly less forced smile to Echo, "I'll take a look into it. Maybe I'll get it done before we get to Syxille."
She started to head off towards the storage room only remembering as she walked that she had to go through the kitchen and rooms. They took a deep breath and figured they could just walk through with their eyes closed. However, she walked into the kitchen and spotted both Saral and Vic in the kitchen. They were decently quiet as they tried to just walk through silently.
"Do you know what exactly happens when they die?" Saral asked, tilting her head. Her hand had found the ring again, tapping the points of the little star as she spoke. "You probably do, but I'm going to tell you anyway, because I can't stand the quiet right now. They collapse, right? But the outer layers explode, and you remember the bursts of light that one time? I still have dreams about it. The colors bursting behind my eyelids, and the lack of sound up here in this vacuum."
(That’s such a cool ring idea, oml)
Vic turned his head as Zanna entered the kitchen, giving them a small nod of acknowledgement as he shifted his chair to make room. His focus returned to Saral, and a smile, though faint, found it’s way into his face.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, clearing his throat, “Beautiful destruction.”
((isn't it? figured i needed to actually know what the rings looked like, and those popped up. just wish i had them myself.))
Saral shot Zanna a small smile, that small one she had only been able to manage every once in a while. She lifted her free hand at the same time, in a lack-luster half wave. "Yeah. Beautiful destruction is right. The birth of stars kinda fits that bill too. Okay." She hopped down, coming up next to him and leaving some space between them. "What's your favorite star." That had to have been the fifth time she'd asked him that, at least. And they both knew she wouldn't just forget it. But sometimes people's favorites changed. Jadie used to have a different favorite everything every week…
Zanna gave them a little half-forced smile and wave. She could definitely just ignore them and continue on to find the dislodged nail. Or they could stick and talk for a while, they hadn't done that in quite some time. As such her will to just ignore them crumbled and she made her way over sitting down in the vacant spot. They looked at the two, "Y'all talking about stars right?"
"I…." Vic rubbed the side of his throat, trying to loosen the taut muscles as he tried to speak. He nodded in Zanna's direction. "Don't remember its name." A mystery of a star—a diamond planet, actually, theorized to have once been a member of a binary system. PSR J1…. something. A neutron star, a pulsar with a dense carbon core that was somehow stripped of its outer gases when its twin went supernova. Or, if the theory of the odd planet's origin was incorrect, it could have formed from the collision of quark stars.
He leaned over to the telescreen in the wall and tried a search, coming up empty a few times before finally finding what he was looking for. Tapping the image on the screen, he turned back to Saral and Zanna. This one.
( PSR J1719-1438b)
"Oh, I know that one. PSR J1719-1438b. I read an article about it, a while ago." Saral said, nodding. The sight of the star had an actual smile forming on her lips. Stars were her comfort, being among them felt like the closest thing to home. "Stars, it's gorgeous. Can you imagine seeing it in person?" She whispered, both to Zanna and Vic, holding her ring for a moment before reaching up to push her hair back out of her face, the deep blue and purple strands looking like the backdrop of the stars they were discussing.
"No, never," Zanna responded as she looked at the star. They had heard of the planet before and seen pictures. She easily understood why it was Vic's favorite though it didn't bring her much comfort as it seemed to be for Saral. They looked over at her and then back at Vic. She knew she could trust them, they hadn't hurt her before. But there was a little voice in their head that they couldn't. Then again she couldn't completely close them out, that would seem suspicious, so she kept up the 'act' until she could decide what to do.
( @Izzy-is-a-Christmas-cat? if you don't want to be a part of this anymore, you can say so )
Watching his friend light up, seeing a smile on her features… it was almost enough to drive away the bitter cold, even if only for a moment. Vic returned his attention to the telescreen and added the diamond planet to their long list of places to visit, glancing over his shoulder at the pair for their approval. This was the first update to the document since—since—
He pushed the thought away.
(should we skip to the arrival at Syxille in a bit?)
((yeah, that would make sense))
Saral nodded a few times as Vic added the star to their list, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she did. Jadie would have loved the star, she thought, remembering the other girl's love of shiny things and things formed from tragedy. She had called it poetic once, how stars were born. And maybe she was right. Too bad no star would be born from the series of horrible events they had seen and were facing now. Nothing to come of death but death.
(Sorry, it's just that there's literally nothing for my character to do at the moment so I'm just waiting for everyone to arrive at Syxille)
(TiredOtter put a post up where her character went down to the dungeons, since that's where yours is)
(It would yeah.)
Zanna felt something tug at her heart as she realized that there were people she had once cared about that weren't going to be able to see that star with them. That there were a lot of things that they weren't going to see with her old friends. She hadn't allowed the reality to sink in yet, and she wasn't ready for it to sink in yet either. They let out a long breath and looked back down at their hands.
(Oh- sorry, I didn't see it!)