Where destination has no place or name [closed]
Characters: Marluxia Endleofan and Yoruichi Shihōin
Content: Everyone has to get to know their coworkers eventually
Setting: Serenity
Time: Evening, towards night
Warnings: The only two hair colors in this thread are pink and purple.
Every ship was different to her, and every ship the same. The geography was to be memorized, the structures committed to memory and understood, schematics poured over to the best of her abilities. The lay of the land: hollow and impersonal. Another place she would live in as an imposter, acting out a sham life.
It was much easier to live as a cat, transform and retreat back into the feline mind, make a clean break from everything in her human past, the rooms she had occupied, the chairs she had sat in, the papers she had held in her fingers, and all the various weapons. All of that was gone now. The people still lived, but she could not see them. She not command them or even talk to them, they were obliged to try to capture her. The rooms still existed, but she was not welcome any more, no longer was the queen of them, nor the boss, she could only occupy them as a ghost would. There was a order for her execution now, and probably a price on her head. And it was all his fault.
That was the thought that drove her when she pushed herself out of bed on the difficult mornings, forcing herself to move through her routines like an usually fluid clank. No matter what else happened, she could not let herself feel that he had defeated her. She would not let him defeat her, and she would yet have her revenge.
She fancied that few people saw anything other than her surface emotions, she had skilled herself in keeping a still face. She needed to be reliable, dependable, strong, unflinching and certain. But that wasn't always easy to do by herself. She understood that, now that she had lost everything and nearly everyone. She had thought of herself as completely independent and self contained, now she understood that view of herself was incorrect. It was difficult for her without any real social contact.
Yet, the idea of making new friends and trusting new people with her secret was ludicrous beyond consideration. That would not be the anodyne. Rather, she must engage with people more, but by engaging more deeply in her cover personality. She needed to participate, take control over things, act like this really was her life. Because, in a sense, it was. She was a Quartermaster aboard this ship, and while she could slack off and let the others take the lead, she could also pull her weight and treat the job like it was something she vaguely cared about.
With those thoughts in mind, she knocked on her coworker's door. It was a perfectly normal thing to do, wasn't it?
Content: Everyone has to get to know their coworkers eventually
Setting: Serenity
Time: Evening, towards night
Warnings: The only two hair colors in this thread are pink and purple.
Every ship was different to her, and every ship the same. The geography was to be memorized, the structures committed to memory and understood, schematics poured over to the best of her abilities. The lay of the land: hollow and impersonal. Another place she would live in as an imposter, acting out a sham life.
It was much easier to live as a cat, transform and retreat back into the feline mind, make a clean break from everything in her human past, the rooms she had occupied, the chairs she had sat in, the papers she had held in her fingers, and all the various weapons. All of that was gone now. The people still lived, but she could not see them. She not command them or even talk to them, they were obliged to try to capture her. The rooms still existed, but she was not welcome any more, no longer was the queen of them, nor the boss, she could only occupy them as a ghost would. There was a order for her execution now, and probably a price on her head. And it was all his fault.
That was the thought that drove her when she pushed herself out of bed on the difficult mornings, forcing herself to move through her routines like an usually fluid clank. No matter what else happened, she could not let herself feel that he had defeated her. She would not let him defeat her, and she would yet have her revenge.
She fancied that few people saw anything other than her surface emotions, she had skilled herself in keeping a still face. She needed to be reliable, dependable, strong, unflinching and certain. But that wasn't always easy to do by herself. She understood that, now that she had lost everything and nearly everyone. She had thought of herself as completely independent and self contained, now she understood that view of herself was incorrect. It was difficult for her without any real social contact.
Yet, the idea of making new friends and trusting new people with her secret was ludicrous beyond consideration. That would not be the anodyne. Rather, she must engage with people more, but by engaging more deeply in her cover personality. She needed to participate, take control over things, act like this really was her life. Because, in a sense, it was. She was a Quartermaster aboard this ship, and while she could slack off and let the others take the lead, she could also pull her weight and treat the job like it was something she vaguely cared about.
With those thoughts in mind, she knocked on her coworker's door. It was a perfectly normal thing to do, wasn't it?