[closed] i do not know much about gods

[polyphonos]

CHARACTERS: The Prince, Cathaway, Ty
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: DAY 035
SUMMARY: A mystery guest.
WARNINGS: N/A, will add if necessary.

[Universes unfold in a thousand places. Green things seed and bloom, metals oxidize, countless stars are born and burst, scattering their dust to a million distant worlds. Somewhere sisters are laughing; somewhere a boy strikes his head on a stone; somewhere a figure wrapped in turquoise and cloaked in gems climbs a tower; somewhere a clawed hand draws a sword and says, 'If lines will be crossed, there here is one' and levels the blade. In each of these places exists the smallest tear, and they are aligned overtop of one another by their identical pinprick. And in that hole, a void. And in that void, a Station.
Station 72 lies dormant, its labyrinthine corridors still. If this was a place dust settled easily, it might have done so by now. The only sound is a voice in the circular gardens, which reads:]

It seems, as one becomes older, that the past has another pattern, and ceases to be a mere sequence— Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy encouraged by--

[Cathaway pauses, her hand idly wound in the dark strands of the Prince's hair. They've taken their meal in the garden and his head now rests there by her knee on a thick cushion brought from his own quarters. It's warm, a pleasantly lifelike bubble in this otherwise whisper quiet place. But now she too has stilled, her attention switching away as if it were never there at all. A light blinking out. A--

She snaps the book shut and lays it on The Prince's chest.]

There's a ship in the hangar.

Comments

[regalled]

[It is quiet. Not the quietest the station has ever been, certainly, but quiet enough with only slumbering minds for company outside of themselves. Still, it is bearable. Made more so by a pleasantly passed afternoon. A crossing of paths, and grass tickling at the base of his neck where it lays trapped between it and the cushion he rests on.

He feels the interruption only a moment after she does, the crack int he door between their minds, widened some by the touch of her fingers against his brow. For a moment it's disconcerting, pulling his mind in a direction he does not desire, but then he narrows the connection, blinking hard even as she sets the heavy book on his chest- his own hand rising to grab it at the same moment.]

So there is.

[It disguises his surprise, or it would, perhaps, if he were not a well-read book. He sits up in one smooth motion, rising to stand before offering her his free hand- with the proper shortcuts, they could be there in minutes.]

[tynacious]

[ It feels a little less like stopping and a lot more like sinking through the floor and continuing to fall when the ship lands. The ship is not moving, but Ty is still reeling.

Returning to the station, alone, feels a bit like...walking into a childhood home that isn't yours anymore. The walls are the same, but the furniture is gone. ]

Welp. I guess this is my stop. [ The air in the ship doesn't respond. Of course it doesn't. Ty gives irreverent salutes to every person-shaped-absence in the ship as they walk towards the ramp--then pivots on xyr heel and goes back to where that friendly old bottle of whatever kind of alcohol is rolling around on deck. ] Time to go, friend.

[ The bottle swings easily in Ty's loose grip, and xe takes a moment to stare at the Station floor before stepping onto it. Not to late to take the ship, go somewhere else--but once xyr boot hits the Station, the opportunity is gone. Ty closes xyr eyes and breathes in, deeply. Nothing. Feels like nothing. The breath leaves xyr body in a sigh and xe lifts the bottle to look into its imaginary eyes. ]

What should we do now? Go see mom and dad? No, no. You're right. A nap sounds better. Maybe a shower. Medbay can wait.

[polyphonos]

[Then it's unfortunate that mom and dad meet him in the corridor - whatever door xe takes, whichever path xe travels, at some point their paths cross before xe can reach xyr destination. They're quick on their feet when they desire to be, and in this instance her only goal is to close the distance. Her attention is turned so far from her broodmate at her side that she doesn't even think to lay her hand in the crook of the Prince's arm.

However, she doesn't reach out with her mind. There's no shapeless voice calling to Ty across the link of their connection. Instead, she hooks the shape of xem in her mind and reels herself in until there: xyr manifests if she herself has made xem real. As if she conjured xem from the Station herself.

Only once she's actually sighted Ty does Cathaway reach out with the sharpened point of her mind. It isn't a question in so many words, just the sensation of a stone tossed into a deep, dark well and waiting for the sound of it striking the bottom to return: What are you doing here?, it says. It's both a question and threat: her fingers itching to scratch up the basic vaneer of xem and peer at the layers beneath.]

[tynacious]

[ Busted. Ty stops--or more accurately, xyr feet stop, and the rest of xem has to wobble a bit, which xe tries to absorb into xem turning to face Cathaway, casually cupping the bottom of the bottle with both hands behind xyr back.

The intoxication does nothing to help Ty maintain xyr mental barriers, but xe can afford to be a little lax with mom and dad. That tossed stone, clattering against the sides of the well, echoes back a cold ache. Vertigo. Feeling like a stranger in one's own home.

And of course, on top of that, a healthy layer of drunkenness. ]

Cath. Princey. Been a while.

[regalled]

[It is not until the very moment that they cross paths with Ty that Prince knows who it is they've been following. He has not tried to guess, and while with time he would be able to track xem and recognize xem regardless of where they were on the station, it took time for him to recognize the pattern after a time away.

It has been a time away. He had not expected xem. But, if he were to have considered who it was they would find at the end of their walk, he would have found it nearly impossible to settle on a likely candidate. There were simply to many possibilities. They had not called xem back. Certainly not alone.

Ty has little in the way of a barrier, but Prince does not pry. He does not need to. As he did not need the enhanced senses the symbiote granted to smell the thick miasma of alcohol.]

Ty. [He bows- it gives a structure to the situation which was- welcome. Considering.]

Are you injured? [Few possible reasons for xyrs return. He would begin with the most pleasant.]

[polyphonos]

[There's so little resistance there in the shape of xyr mind; pushing past that liminal space would be as pricking a film with a needle. She stays her hand, though leans well over the well. The shape of her attention from where she's stopped beside Prince is as an eye staring through a keyhole.

It feels like suspicion.]

[tynacious]

[ Xe looks up, xyr gaze drifting a bit. Let's see...head, shoulders, knees, and toes. And then that little twinge, just there. Yep, that hurts. ]

Only a little. [ Ty raises one hand, displaying xyr thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart. In bringing one hand forward and away from the bottle, xyr movement knocks the spirits off-balance and out of xyr grasp. It clatters to the floor behind xem, a constant ringing gong as it rolls away down the hall.

Ty, no more than blinks at the bottle falling, and waits for the noise to subside before: ]

That wasn't mine.

[regalled]

I see.

[It's for the answer- and for the bottle. The slight rise of distaste, in imperious haughtiness shuttered away from them both and quickly quelled. Yes, turning to drink was a weakness, but everyone was weak. Surely he knew it.]

You are alone.

[Not quite a statement. Not quite a question. Searching perhaps for a confirmation of his suspicions or craving a contradiction. If he were willing he could find out for himself. He could broadcast along the threads that stretched from the station itself out into the agent's distant minds, the self-same web that could summon them to rescue newly awakened potential hosts or feel their requests for assistance. But he doesn't.]

[tynacious]

[ That. That statement clings to the sinking feeling tugging at xyr stomach and weighs down on whatever it is. For a moment, an honest expression flickers over xyr features. Honest weariness. But then the moment ends, and the bob of xyr brows resets the unflappable, distant expression xe had spent so long establishing.

That's how you know xe's drunk. A slip like that would never go over sober. ]

Was until you showed up.

[polyphonos]

[Here, Cathaway does finally move from the place she'd fixed herself. She treads a direct line to xyr in the wide corridor, though there is something prowling in the shape the lingers in her - something sharpened like a hand holding a blunt finger of metal like a knife, a page posed for turning. When she nears, she lifts her hand with a small chime of the metal charms at her wrists and elbow, strung down the length of her birdlike arm. Her fingers are poised to touch xyr. Something buzzes, a white noise hum in the invisible line stretched between their brains.]

Welcome home.

[tynacious]

[ Ty is not the sort for sincere thank yous. If it isn't sardonic or sarcastic, you won't catch xem saying it. But with Cath and Princey--xe doesn't have to say it. Xe's sure they'd like to hear it, but they've known Ty longer than anyone else.

Especially now that xyr brood is gone. Ty xemself is the one person who could claim to have known xemselves longer than Cathaway and Prince.

Xe looks down and doesn't shy away from Cathaway's hand, for once. ]

Mmhm.

[regalled]

[This was a complication, but far from unheard of. They have seen it before. They would see it again. In time, when Ty was ready to hear it- or sooner, if Cathaway's got ahead of herself, they would ask xem if xyr had an idea of who xe would like to join up with. If xe wanted partners so soon or if xe would prefer to go alone for some time. Assigned perhaps solely to rescue. Or perhaps xe would sleep, and not wake again.

That was for later. For now.]

We'll see your ship is stowed. For now, you should rest.