[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

[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.