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flecks-of-stardust · 3 months

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what are those mods that were cooler than MSC? if they're that good i have to try them out

So upon further thought of this topic, I think i’m misrepresenting my thoughts on my enjoyment of MSC. A more accurate way to put it would be that I had more fun with a lot of other mods. However, I don’t think it’s necessarily fair to compare MSC to them, because the goals of MSC are different from that of other smaller mods. I guess this counts as an analysis post; this will be long.

TLDR: I had more fun with a number of region mods and I think some modcats are cool, but Rain World’s design makes having a DLC that stays true to its core ethos difficult, so I find it hard to really blame the MSC team for MSC being a lackluster DLC.

Regions

When I say that I enjoyed other mods more than MSC, I think a lot of it is in the level editing (ie, lediting), in the sense that region mods have consistently wowed me far more than MSC’s regions ever did. Conceptually, the regions that it added were incredible; I loved seeing Moon as close to her prime as she could ever be shown in Spearmaster’s time (ie LTTM the region; DM), but also finding her ruined structure (MS) as Rivulet, and the idea behind Silent Construct (CL) is also fantastic. But gameplay wise? I didn’t particularly enjoy any of these regions, especially not CL. I hated the spider clogs that I had no way of dealing with, and overall I really just bumrushed it and cheated to get to the story. Metropolis (LC) and Outer Expanse were okay in terms of gameplay, but LC’s tiling and geometry is just kind of boring, if I had to be honest. It’s quite repetitive and not particularly unique, except for maybe Atop the Tallest Tower at a stretch. OE was fine by virtue of not really having another region to compare it to and also being comparatively more plant focused, but honestly, other mods have still wowed me more. So I dunno.

Like when it comes to having regions that feel interesting to explore and are also nice to look at, there’s always Pilgrims’ Ascent and Scorched District, both by Myrmice, and these two also fit so well with vanilla Rain World’s vibe to me. These two, along with the Mast from Snoodle, are all but canon to vanilla to me, because they just fit so well and add to vanilla while still maintaining their own identities as regions. And even beyond having to feel vanilla necessarily, because that’s not always the point of mods, there’s regions like Stormy Coast, Coral Caves, Howling Rift, more that I won’t list because of how long the list will get, but the point is that all of these regions give me more engaging gameplay and paths for exploration than I felt I got for any MSC added region. Granted it’s been a while since I played MSC’s content in full, and my memory of this stuff is generally poor, but I’d rather explore Aqueducts (OA) again than do MS. OA was big and I kept getting lost even with a map, but it was big and disorienting in a way that just felt better to me than MS. The same goes for Deserted Wastelands and CL, personally.

MSC regions feel very vanilla-like to me, in that they’re kind of easy to filter out of your conscious processing so you can focus on other things. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, but for the price that you have to pay for Downpour, I think it falls a little short. The thing is that MSC is very much story-focused, putting more emphasis on the slugcats you play as and their stories rather than the lediting of the regions exclusive to them (in my opinion anyways. I ain’t a leditor). Which brings me to my next point:

Modcats and Story

This might be a bit of a hot take, but I think Rain World is inherently a gameplay focused game that doesn’t support much overt story or plot. The lore in all three vanilla campaigns is entirely optional, and if you kill Moon? Fuck you! No lore for you! And even if you wanted the lore, you have to figure out that pearls have to be taken to her to be read, and that the colored ones have unique lore, and you have to find them and hope the scavs don’t take the pearl first. Even with Hunter, you can choose to toss the green neuron and do your own thing. It doesn’t even stop you from ascending either. The story is entirely optional in Rain World. So then to add any story focused campaign at all inherently takes it away from Rain World’s initial design. And on top of that, you’re playing as a slugcat. It’s really hard to add any sort of story in Rain World that doesn’t circle back to iterators in some way. But then what else do you do besides ascend? Eat a few specific types of food? Gourmand does that. Kill a specific creature? That’s Artificer’s thing. Talk to all the echoes? That’s Saint, and kind of Hunter in a way. What else can you do without radically changing the structure of Rain World itself? And to that end, would that still be Rain World? I’m not saying it’s impossible to have a story based campaign that doesn’t involve iterators, but I do think that it’s really difficult to have them be completely irrelevant to the story and still have an engaging story, because Rain World itself is so not story focused. But if you don’t add story, then what do you do in the campaign that doesn’t make it just a rehashed version of Survivor’s campaign?

So like. I can’t really take issue with MSC’s story based focus that much, because genuinely, what else do you do? And basically any modded slugcat available in 1.9 that I think is worth trying falls into the same category. I think Pitch Black is really promising, but it introduces A Lot of changes to the world, and there’s currently almost no story. Vinki isn’t iterator focused necessarily, but their story still hinges on pissing Pebbles off and is overall very silly (not in a bad way! But it doesn’t fit the vibe of Rain World). And Gravel Eater,, you can’t get more intertwined with iterators than with GE’s story, but they’re still my favorite modcat because of how detailed their story is and how interesting their mechanics are. And if you just have a scug with abilities and no story, that’s… not really interesting to play, because then it’s essentially just Survivor, but you’re able to like, say, make spore puffs for free.

Maybe I’m just not creative enough in this aspect, idk. But genuinely I can’t think of much else to do in this game that doesn’t involve iterators in some way. If you know me, you’d know I’m Iterators McGee who has written 70k+ words about a character who has literally no canon dialogue. I fucking love iterators, but I think their stories should be separate from that of slugcats, but in game, just. How? I genuinely don’t know.

Other Thoughts

I think in some ways I view MSC as more of a framework that has allowed other people to build their own stories off of it. The only other mod that has a scale even remotely comparable to MSC is Drought, which is also iterator centric in story. I can’t speak to its lediting since I haven’t played Drought myself (but I’ve heard the quality… fluctuates?), but story wise… yeah. I don’t know. I just don’t think Rain World can really have a DLC that doesn’t pull it away from its original ethos in some way. I would not want Drought to be a DLC either, as cool as I think it is, and I still value a lot of things about MSC. It’s lackluster as a DLC because again, what sort of campaign can you add that doesn’t add a story that isn’t iterator related in any way?

I guess the way to summarize this is that I think MSC tells some really interesting stories through its gameplay. Even the parts I hated are part of the story it’s trying to tell, and on that front I think it does well. But by virtue of being story focused (and, by virtue of story in this game being very iterator centric), it doesn’t feel as much like Rain World, and so it’s not as good as a DLC as it would have been as just a mod. And now that it exists and is widely used, other people have been spurred to make their own ideas and show their creativity, going bigger and bolder than MSC in some aspects. And regarding me enjoying region mods more than MSC’s lediting, I think enjoying the region for being a region is kind of the fucking point of playing a region mod, whereas that isn’t exactly MSC’s focus. So some things are hard to compare.

This is kind of an incoherent ramble but I hope I got the main points across. I still like MSC and I won’t tolerate anyone bashing it here. You will get blocked.

#not adding any tags really but. up it goes i guess

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seamistan · 4 years

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for a prompt, how about sea hawk puts mermista to bed after a long day of work?

Okay I love this so much 🥺

This uh. got angstier than i expected but there’s hurt/comfort so. I hope that’s okay! It’s also way, way longer than I expected it to be skjssdn

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The fire in her office had begun to smolder, leaving behind nothing but smoke and ash.

The princess of Salineas was hard at work at her desk, determined to finish her first set of tasks to begin to rebuild Salineas. The day's work had largely consisted of paperwork to review- blueprints, citizen requests, permits, all part of the exciting life of ruling a kingdom that had to be completely restored from the ground up.

The clock in the corner continued to tick menacingly, warning her that every second spent not doing her duty was a second she was failing her kingdom. The words in front of her had begun to blur, and her memory of her purpose reading the document had become fuzzy. Her brain was very quickly becoming a slippery mass of information that not even she could untangle or understand. The day had been among Mermista's first in working from Bright Moon to preplan for all the reconstruction and every single detail had to be correct. She considered for a moment if it would be too unreasonable to get a third cup of coffee from the Bright Moon kitchen. She decided it wasn't.

Strolling outside of the office that Glimmer had been so kind to offer her that was only a short walk from her suite and to the kitchen, Mermista heard the sounds of too-eager footsteps around the corner. Silently cursing him, she attempted to hide around the corner of the marble column. Sea Hawk had been insistent for the past few days that Mermista get a proper amount of sleep if she were to continue to be the most capable ruler that she could possibly be. However, He had been unsuccessful in his campaign to get his dearest to go to bed at a reasonable time, resulting in his current sleep protest, in which he had refused to go to sleep until she did. It seemed, though, even loving pirates needed snacks in the middle of the night.

Mermista tried to tell if he would go the other way, or simply disappear, but it seemed he wouldn’t. So, she resigned herself to her fate, stepping out of her hiding spot, running face to ‘stache into her sleepy captain.

Sea Hawk fumbled with the bowl of kombu pesto he was currently mixing in his hands, closing and opening his eyes in a fit of drowsiness. “Mermista! You’re still awake!” He says, a glint is his tired eyes reminding her that he had already been fully aware of that. “Was it the smell of my famous Sea Tangle alla Sea Hawk that drew you to the kitchen?” his confident air suppressing the previous exhaustion she had run into.

She rolls her eyes at him. “No, you goof. I came out here to get some coffee but was rudely interfered with before I could.” She looks behind him and sees that he, was in fact making his signature dish. Her stomach rumbles at the smell of it, reminding her she had not had a full meal all day outside of the various cups of double shots of coffee. “...Buuut I guess I could stick around for a plate of your dumb pasta or whatever.” She said, feigning nonchalance.

Sea Hawk’s face lit up at this and gestured toward the kitchen.

Spiritedly, he leads her to where a pot of kelp noodles was threatening to boil over, the pan on the burner next to it sizzling with some chicken and that was smelling heavenly. Sea Hawk strides over to her and pulls out a chair in the little table in the corner of the kitchen, his face shining with the glee of a child. The Kitchen is not small by any means, but the way it’s decorated, presumably by Glimmer, gives the room that would otherwise be foreboding or sterile a homey feel, the pink walls and bright colors managing to also give it an edge of dollhouse chic Which is, like, somehow Glimmer’s entire personality.

Sea Hawk is at the stove now, pouring in the bowl of pesto he was holding older onto the chicken, whistling some silly shanty to himself. His stance relaxed and carefree, as if ready to start dancing at any moment, flitting through the spice rack looking for water mint of all things. Mermista’s tired mind takes a second to admire the way his fingers moved expectantly through the shelf, and, when he finally found it, the way his entire form seemed to sparkle with joy at this simple finding. Watching him in this little adventure almost threatened to make her smile. Almost.

Mermista’s idle brain suddenly returned to a state where she could remember finally, what caused her to leave her office in the first place. Leisurely getting up, she makes her way to the pot of coffee that she had made earlier in the day, ready to pour herself a cup when Sea Hawk stops her, and the look he gives her threatens to shatter her heart. “Please, Dearest. Don’t.” His pleading gaze boring into her very soul. He’s silent as he returns to the stove, resuming his quest to finish his pasta. His steady hands pouring the sauce onto the mountain of pasta he had set onto the serving plate.

She realizes she still hasn’t poured her cup of coffee.

She kind of doesn’t want to, anymore.

Sea Hawk pads over to the cabinet where the plates are held and set down two plates on the little table. His solemn look continuing to make her heart seize. “Please, just sit with me. Have some pasta. Then.. you can go back and keep working while I try to keep your side of the bed warm.” His steady gaze faltered at the mention of her retreating back into the office.

They both knew that she had been working overtime to prove to herself and to everybody else that she was a functioning ruler, unencumbered by her time as a slave to a space fascist. It had been weeks since Mermista had a functioning sleep schedule, with the end of the war inhibiting sleep up until a week or two ago when her new tactic of fighting the nightmares that threatened her every night was hours and hours of work.

Mermista leaned against the counter, hand still ghosting over the coffee pot, deciding if she should go sit down when Sea Hawk produced two water lilies and lovingly set them on top of each plate of Kelp noodles.

Then the tears started.

She walked hesitantly over to the table, wordlessly picking up a plate and staring at the blue flower he had placed on top of the pile of Kelp noodles and sauce.

She choked out a small sob, glassy eyes alight and the very ghost of a smile on her face. “You remembered.”

He gave her a slight chuckle, getting a faraway look in his eye. “I just thought that.. maybe if I reminded you of her, you’d remember to take care of yourself”

She let herself retreat back into her head for a moment, memories of her mother making her lunch before attending her Princess training, reminding her to be strong and brave for her and her kingdom. Long talks discussing her role in Salineas, her future,her fears. The last time her mother had made this for her she was getting ready to begin to take full control of the runestone. Before she passed. Before The Horde got to her. She was just a kid then, thinking she was on top of the world. She and Sea Hawk had been in one of their “in-between” stages where she wouldn’t admit she liked him despite his constant saying he liked her. So she’d invite him over to meals with her family as a sort of compromise. Let him into her life bit by bit. He had gotten along so well with her mother, laughter filling the room. It made her heartache now, remembering it.

Her eyes were misty with tears now, throat caught in a sob. Sea Hawk set down the plate that was still being held in her trembling hands, and held her in his arms, his embrace pulling her back to reality. “Mermista, My dearest. I need you to take care of yourself. Please.” he pleaded, his eyes meeting hers, then down to her lips, then returning to her gaze. “For Salineas. For your people, For your Mother.” His gaze returned to her lips. Her stomach fluttered, and she was suddenly aware of his body holding hers, his scent surrounding her- the sesame oil he had been using to cook, the tingling smell of the citrus soap he always used, and the lingering smell of saltwater and ash that just made him hers. He was staring at her now. His concern etched into every feature. He pressed his lips to hers, holding her close, calming the waves that threatened to overtake her. “And for me.”

Okay, now she was absolutely sobbing. Tears flowing down her face in rivulets, no longer being able to refuse the onslaught of emotions she had been keeping locked inside her for weeks. “I- I don’t.” the words were not letting themselves out. “Look. I just. I. I really have no idea what to do. These nightmares won’t stop keeping me awake. And the citizens I don’t think they trust me and I just-” She broke down in sobs.

Her pirate, ever the Savior, held her face in his hand and simply said “You don’t have to do anything.” His words rang through her ears. “I mean at least. Not right now. We can just enjoy a late meal together. And then, you can go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

She sniffled in his arms. “You would do that for me? Stay up all night? Just so I could sleep?” Her voice cracked, threatening to send a new wave of tears down her face. Geez, if she could just stop crying for a minute she could get some of her dignity back. She cleared her throat. “Because I mean, that would be, like, super lame of you. I mean. You need to sleep too, I guess.”

He laughed his big, airy, laugh and shook his head. “Misty, I would fight 500 horde prime soldiers so you could rest well for a single second. I would sail all over Etheria three times for you slumber in peace I would-”

Mermista felt heat rush to her cheeks. She pats him on the chest, releasing herself from his tight embrace. “Okay, knock it off, I have noodles to eat!” Mermista

She sat herself down at the cozy table, and he in front of her. He delicately lifted his Water lily sitting atop his mountain of clear kelp noodles and carefully reached over and placed it behind her ear. She rolled her eyes. “There was sauce on that, you know. You got sauce in my hair now. Thanks!” But the look that she gave him, the glint in her eyes told him she didn't really mind

They sat together for a while after both of them had polished off what was left of the tremendous meal (Sea Hawk’s words) he had made. They quickly did the dishes as to not receive another stern word from Bright Moon’s chef about Sea Hawk’s late night cooking misadventures and then headed off to their room.

As he was curling up in front of her, in a voice that only he could ever hear, she murmured “Thank you.”

Smirking to himself, he let out a sigh of relief and said, full of certainty “All in a day’s work, milady, all in a day’s work.”

She groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?!”

He silently chuckled, and off to sleep she went.

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Okay this was going to go in a much, much different, shorter direction but then @nepptoon and I started talking about what kind of late night snacks Sea Hawk would get and then. Well, it just spiraled from there.

so take this as my first ever published fic?? I Guess?? sdjnsdkdns

anyway leave me prompts and you, too might get a very long winded fic featuring keke and I’s convoluted conversations

#seamista #myfics #uh i mean #should I tag this as an ask????#im gonna #asks #cocoisanickname

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astriiformes · 5 years

Text

The Light of Stars

Fandom: High Rollers Characters: Aila, Nova, Lucius, Quill Words: 3722

What do you do when you're on a mysterious beach, in mourning, and your team has suffered major injuries and losses?

Looking up is a start

Hi, Episode 26 of the Aerois campaign absolutely obliterated me. Have a fic

[AO3 Link]

Though she was aware of a little else around her -- the crashing of waves, mainly, and some soft, pained noises that implied at least a few of her companions remained near her -- Aila focused first primarily on the strongest and most present sensation that allowed herself to take something resembling stock of the situation.

Sand.

There was sand beneath her fingers, running through them as she clenched her fist into the ground, trying to establish a grip that wasn’t there in the shifting grains of the beach. It all slipped through her fists, and she wanted to scream in frustration, not because it was much of a complication in and of itself, but because it felt like so much symbolism of the group’s current situation.

She closed her fist tighter, squeezing the sand in her palm as tightly as she could, trapping it, as if it would somehow grant her more control over the circumstances. With the tiny grains biting into her palm, the lost control was now grounding, and she felt like she could take stock of things somewhat more. Suddenly, she could hear more than just the waves and her own blood pounding in her ears. Familiar, quiet sobs somewhere nearby pierced the blur.

“Nova?” she said, pulling herself up from the ground. There was sand in her shoes, sand in her tartan, and sand all over her braids, but she did her best to shake some off as she lifted herself into a kneeling position.

The genasi also knelt, low to the ground an on all fours, nearby, but she was shaking with sobs, tears running down her face in little rivulets. She looked shaky, and liable to collapse from the weight of the emotion at any second. Tiangong lay, seemingly abandoned, at her side.

“Nova!” Aila said again, more sharply, but still didn’t garner any response.

She pulled herself fully upright, dusting her knees off somewhat haphazardly, then crouched down again next to Nova on wandering a few feet over towards her. For an awkward moment, Aila’s hand hovered in mid-air, contemplating what it should do to get the other woman’s attention. Gentle affection was not her forte. Ultimately, she went for something in-between.

“Ow!” Nova sniffled, looking up, surprised. “You… you smacked me!”

Okay, maybe not so in-between. Sometimes it was hard to judge her own strength.

“I don’t know what to do with people who are crying!” Aila admitted.

“Usually you don’t try smacking them,” Nova said. She was pulling herself into a little more of a sitting position now, to look Aila in the eye, as the wild elf put a hand on her shoulder.

“Well it worked, didn’t it? You’re crying less.”

Nova looked like she was about to say something to prove her wrong, but took a deep breath and instead tried wiping away some of her tears. Her palms were still all sandy, and it left a wet, gritty streak across her face. Despite everything, Aila almost wanted to laugh at the genasi accidentally giving herself what looked like a second dusting of freckles.

“You got a little…” she said, gesturing to her own face.

Sniffling again, though a little more quietly, Nova tried to wipe the sand away. All she succeeded in doing was getting even sandier. But something about the futility of it got the corner of her lip to quirk a little, and wobbly as it was, it seemed like progress.

“Don’t think I can’t hear you crying, too, Lucius” Aila called out, directing her attention to a slightly more distant, louder sobbing.

“Are you going to hit me, too?” he wailed back.

“Depends,” she said. “Will it help you stop?”

“Not if it hurts!”

“Well then, I won't,” Aila said. A moment later, her voice softened, or at least, hit as soft a tone as it ever did. “Although, seriously, for once I’m not blaming you that much for crying. That was kind of a lot.”

“You’re not crying,” Nova said, still trying to wipe her runny nose.

“That’s because I don’t cry,” Aila said. “Though if I were ever going to start, you know, it might be the time for it.”

She surveyed her two emotional companions, both trying their hardest to get a ahold of themselves. Nova was having slightly more success. The fact that Lucius didn’t even seem to note that he was getting sand all over his colorful robes was probably concerning, but for the time being, Aila considered it a sort-of blessing -- it meant she didn’t have to hear him complain.

Her next instinct was to do a headcount, to make sure the five -- and then she swallowed, because no, it was four, wasn’t it? -- of them were okay. Obviously she had found Nova and Lucius, and she herself was as fine as she could be given the circumstances, but the last she’d seen of Quill, he hadn’t been doing so well. The fact that she hadn’t heard so much as a peep from the aarakocra was somewhat concerning.

“Quill?” she called out, standing up again and dusting off her tartan. “You there?”

There wasn’t a response.

“If you’re alive, wheeze at me!” she shouted, towards the beach.

There was a rustling was some sand and a pained noise, and she realized that what she thought might have been a lump of seaweed a bit in the distance was ruffling slightly, and awfully feathery.

“Sit tight, you two,” she ordered Nova and Lucius sternly. Her tearful companions both nodded, the latter with rivulets of water still streaming down his face. Nova had grabbed Tiangong and seemed to be hugging them tightly, as a sort of comfort object. Neither seemed likely to try to go anywhere in the first place.

Dashing over to Quill, Aila again knelt into the sand, trying to clear away some of the grainy mess that had gotten all mixed up in his feathers. She knew the aarakocra liked to take dust baths, but she figured even he probably wouldn't be happy the situation -- though honestly, he was probably pained enough that such a minor annoyance as some sand was pretty low on the list of things to worry about.

“You alive, then, Birdbrain?” she said, more worry creeping into her voice than she wanted.

There was another pained, deep breath as Quill tried to turn on his side and instantly seemed to regret it. The action gave Aila a clear view of his one good eye, which was clouded with pain.

“Sentry…” he gasped, more of a breath than a word.

“No, none of that, tell me about you,” Aila said. “Unless you're about to join her, okay? Where are you hurt? How bad is it? Be practical with me or I’ll punt you to one of the sky cities myself.”

Quill blinked, seemingly unprepared for her blunt brand of concern.

“It’s… it’s my ribcage,” he said. “That whole sort of area. I haven’t really taken stock of it, what with the... everything, but it feels a bit like the whole thing just shattered.”

As if on cue, Quill’s whole chest began to spasm, it looked a bit like an attempt at a cough, but Aila supposed maybe birds didn’t go in for that -- she’d never seen a bird cough before, at least. Regardless, for a brief moment, he seemed like he was choking.

“Nova!” Aila called behind her, again, not panicked, because she didn’t panic, but you know, it might have sounded a little like that if you didn’t know her. Or something. You know. “You’ve read stuff about medicine, right? In your books and stuff? You got enough of your tears out to try to help out here?”

The genasi slowly lifted herself up, reluctant to stop hugging Tiangong, and shuffled over, looking as if she was trying to hurry herself but didn’t quite have it in her. She knelt next to Aila to have a look at Quill, who was still in the midst of his choking fit, gasping for air.

“He looks like he needs CPR,” she sniffled, moving a hand over his chest.

“Opposite of that, opposite of that!” Quill choked out through his short breaths. “Please don’t touch my chest, Nova!”

“Then what do I do?” she asked, panicked. Aila somewhat regretted calling her over.

Fortunately, however, the spasm finally passed, though a small spattering of what looked like blood came up an spattered Quill’s feathers as he experienced a final, painful heave.

“Noted,” Aila said dryly.

She didn’t mean to be quite so dismissive, but there wasn’t much you could do for badly broken ribs beyond not move, and under the circumstances, that probably wasn’t much of an option. And she’d offer to carry Quill around if it weren’t for the fact that she’d likely need to do that for…. Well….

Glancing back at the beach to try to catch a glimpse of the fallen guardian, who she presumed had still traveled here with them, Aila could see Lucius, still separate from the rest of the group crying with renewed vigor. Next to him was some sort of bright spark, and she swallowed deeply when she noted what -- or rather who -- he was crying over.

“Lucius…” she called out to him. “Care to join the rest of us?”

There was a loud wail.

“I’ll bring Sentry over too,” she said, swallowing again. “We should probably set up camp.”

“Can’t we fix her?” he said, still sobbing.

Aila got up again, starting to begrudge the others her back-and-forth shuffle. She almost mentally corrected herself for it though -- while Nova and Lucius’ emotional states were perhaps hard to deal with, Quill could hardly move, and Sentry of course.... well.

Sentry wasn’t going to be moving at all.

“I don’t think any of us know enough about guardians,” she said quietly as she wandered over. “But we can get her somewhere safe, and maybe there’ll be someone who does.”

“I was going to try to trade my soul to fix her, you know,” Lucius said, looking up at her and wiping his eyes. “That would have worked. Maybe I should have done that.”

“Congratulations!” Aila said, “You’ve got me back to remembering you’re an idiot!”

Lucius was still crying, but the flow of tears seemed to slow. He looked a bit stunned.

“You think losing your soul is a better idea? You think any of us should give up our souls?” Aila said. “You think Sentry would like that?”

“Well, it did seem like the best option,” Lucius said.

“You know what you do when all your options are bad options?” Aila said. “You make new ones. I don’t care what happened back there now. I care what we’re gonng do next. So pick up that shiny thing Starbane gave us, and I’ll pick up Sentry, and we’re gonna work from there. First things first, we’re exposed, and tired, and Quill’s hurt, so let’s find some shelter, huh?”

Lucius looked even more stunned at being ordered around, but it also seemed to work. He edged towards grabbing the light.

“Nova?” Aila said, turning back to the genasi a bit behind her. “You think you can help Quill walk? Actually scratch that, Quill, you think you can even try to walk?”

“I… I can make an attempt,” he said. The words themselves sounded pained.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Aila said. “But give it a go and if I’ve got to ferry all of you to a place with some cover, by Siaska I’ll do it.”

There was no response, aside from some blinking.

“Well?” Aila asked expectantly.

“Where should we--” Nova started.

“Why don’t we head towards those scrubby little trees at the base of that dune, to start?” Aila said, pointing to a spot that seemed a bit more sheltered than the open beach.

Sure enough, both Lucius and Nova started to pull themselves up. The former was still in the midst of sobbing fairly heavily, but he scooped up the bright light he’d been directed to, hugging it to his chest in a way that was probably more metaphorical than Aila cared to contemplate.

Reaching out her arms, Nova started trying her best to help Quill up. The aarakocra struggled to even stand, clearly pained and taking in shallow, difficult breaths. She offered him Tiangong as a sort of cane and that seemed to help, then wrapped her arm under the bird’s single wing and shoulder to try to guide him. He closed his eye in pain and seemed to be gritting his beak against it, but they made slow progress together nonetheless, Nova ruffling his feathers in a soothing, massaging gesture as they moved.

Taking a difficult breath herself, thanks to the hitch in her throat as she tried, Aila turned her attention towards their last party member. Seeing Sentry so still was different than the other kinds of death the wild elf was familiar with -- she wasn’t a stranger to blood, or injuries, or distant eyes that gazed into whatever afterlife mortals went to when they died. The guardian, however, had none of that -- only still limbs, and a lack of light. It was kind of worse, really, seeing her looking dark and still instead of smeared with familiar gore, or something. That made people really look dead. Instead, she just looked like a fake Sentry, a statute someone had made that didn’t have any of her light or life. That didn’t protect others, or like warm plates.

It seemed less real than watching someone flesh and blood go down. Aila would know -- she’d seen both that and Sentry’s death herself.

Gently, she slipped her arms underneath the fallen guardian. For a moment, she contemplated throwing her in an over-the-shoulder carry -- she might be shut down, but she was still heavy, and far larger than the rest of the group. But it felt wrong, tossing her around like a sack or something, and instead despite her size, Aila did her best to cradle Sentry, grateful yet again for her own strength.

The others had congregated over by the scrubby trees, a trail of footsteps in the sand telling the story of their journey -- there were Lucius’ slow, delicate footsteps in a fairly neat trail that ended in him sitting on a log, still hugging the glowing thing they’d gotten from Starbane. A heavier trail showed Quill’s talons mixed with Nova’s bootprints as they moved almost as one, injured creature, a line in the sand from dragging Tiangong along for support and lots of starts and stops. They were seated as well, in the sand, with Nova still trying to gently work her hands through Quill’s feathers in a soothing gesture as he had another choking attack.

Aila tried not to get worried about his health again.

“You’ve punctured something inside,” she said bluntly, sitting down next to him.

She lay Sentry down in the sand next to them, crossing the guardian’s arms respectfully over her figure, so she looked slightly less like a broken rag doll.

“You don’t sa-- I mean, I’ve noticed,” Quill said.

“Gotta rest, then,” she said. “Take it easy.”

“I...I don’t know that we have time for that,” he said.

“We’ve got time to make sure there are five of us again,” Aila said.

She started gathering up some of the sticks in the area, hoping that if they were going to make camp for the night she could at least set them up a camp for the night. She didn’t know how cold it was going to get here, but the last thing they could afford was someone getting pneumonia or something. Especially Quill, with his already-compromised health, and who was probably at risk.

“You mean four,” Nova sniffled. She pointedly didn’t look at Sentry.

“I mean five,” Aila said pointedly.

For the first time really since she’d noticed him, Lucius appeared to stop crying, even a little bit.

“Do you -- You really think that we can fix her up?” he said.

“I think we got something, whatever it is, from Callus fucking Starbane that’s apparently for that purpose, so I figure we’ve got as good a chance as any,” Aila said. She pulled out some flint from a pouch at her side and lit the kindling with a spark.

“It’s a star bit,” Nova said quietly.

Aila looked at her oddly. Quill was obviously hurt, but maybe Nova was concussed or something, too? That’d be bad.

“Starbane ,” she corrected. “You know, the guy that gets mentioned all the time? That we met. That's apparently Valla's father?”

“No, no,” Nova said, shaking her head. She stopped stroking Quill for a moment to gesture with both hands, which Aila took as a good sign -- that was a bit more normal Nova. “The thing he gave us, it’s a bit of a star. It’s got to have enough power to help her. We just don’t have anyone here who knows how to use it quite right.”

“It’s a piece of a star ?” she asked incredulously, and Nova nodded.

It was an almost wordless thing, a shared impulse, or maybe even something more, but the four adventurers gathered around the slowly-building fire all looked upwards, where the sky was littered with more, intact examples of the object of discussion. They littered the sky, scattered points of light in the dark expanse.

“You know,” Quill said, eventually, though he then had to catch his breath as it got violently stuck again. Nova patted him carefully on the back until he could continue.

“Stars… stars are a pretty key part of navigation,” he said finally.

“You mean you can follow them,” Lucius asked, sounding confused. “Do they tell you things?”

“Sort of,” Quill said thoughtfully. “You can use them to figure out your location, and plot the way you’re headed -- they’re a landmark that doesn’t go away, unlike rocks or things you pass and that end up being more fleeting.”

“Triangulation,” Nova added.

“I don’t know about that word,” Aila said herself, “But Quill’s got a point. They tell you stuff, the stars, about where you are and how to get where you’re going next. We use them for that out in the Lowlands all the time -- wilderness knowledge, sort of.”

“I’ve navigated by the stars a lot,” Quill admitted. “They’re the only reason I have a bit of an idea where we are right now.”

“Are they telling you things, Birdie?” Lucius asked. “What do they say?”

Quill looked thoughtfully up at the stars above them, then at the bright spark of one lying near Sentry, that might yet hold life for her if they could find help in time. He opened his beak as if to speak, then seemed to hesitate.

“Quill?” Nova asked.

“I think they’re saying there are still places to go,” he said. “From here, I mean.”

“Course there are,” Aila said gruffly.

The whole group was silent, contemplating the idea. It as growing darker, and the stars more visible and the fire in front of them more warming. The quiet was eventually pierced by Quill experiencing another one of hit fits of difficulty breathing, this one particularly violent. Nova wrapped an arm around him to keep him from keeling over.

“Why don’t you lie down, Quill?” she said, gently. The worry in her voice was undeniable, but neither was the fact that it carried with it an equal element of kindness.

“We all could,” Lucius said, and the other looked at him oddly. Aila wondered what he was getting at.

“To look at the stars,” he added hastily. “It gives you a better view of the sky. And then you can look up and draw pictures, between all the little dots.”

Nova, who herself was gently aiding Quill into a lying position on his back so as not to aggravate his ribs further, and Aila looked at each other. Aila shrugged. She wasn’t totally sure what Lucius was going on about, but everyone was tired. Maybe it was the kind of thing they needed.

“The heck not,” she said, shrugging. “Let’s do it.”

“I can recognize some of these constellations,” Nova added, lying back against a log herself. “They’re not all familiar, but I suppose we’re rather far from home.”

“They’re still stars,” Aila said. “That’s something, right?”

“Spots of light…” Quill mumbled.

“Oh, don’t you go getting all metaphorical on us,” Aila said. “I was being literal. Or do you want me to smack you to keep your head on your shoulders?”

“You wouldn’t hit and injured bird!” he protested, though the air of jest was clear.

“I’d hit a lot of things, “ Aila said.

“She threatened to hit me, earlier,” Lucius added, unhelpfully.

“I think lots of people would hit you, Lucius,” Nova said, sounding almost like she was trying to break the news gently.

The group fell into silence once more, hearing mostly the crackle of the fire at their side as they lay looking up at the sky.

“....Do you think Sentry would have something to say about the stars?” Nova asked eventually. “I wonder if they’re different, now, than when she was built.”

“Well let’s to our best to get to ask her,” Aila said. “We’ve got one just for her, don't we?”

“That’s quite a poetic gift,” Nova said. “A star.”

“I can’t do it,” Aila said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I can’t stop you all from making metaphors.”

“Maybe you can’t quell it because hope’s just a bit like that,” Quill said. “It just… pops up.”

“That’s the most optimistic I’ve heard you be, like, ever,” Aila said. “And it’s when you’ve got a crushed ribcage. Are you feeling alright? Like, feverish?”

“Might be…. Might be delirium,” Quill said.

“Well hang onto it,” AIila said. “I’m not letting any of you give up.”

“Sounds like something Sentry would say,” Lucius said.

“Yeah, well, maybe she rubbed off on me a little,” Aila said.

There was something like a tear trying to escape her eye. But that was ridiculous. Aila didn’t cry.

“We’ll look at the stars for her, then,” Nova said, pointing up at the glowing skyscape above them. “That one up there is particularly bright.”

“Yeah,” Aila said quietly. “We’ll do that. We’ll look at the stars.”

And they did.

#high rollers #high rollers tag #hr spoilers #my writing #IS ANYONE EVEN IN CHARACTER??? I DON'T KNOW!#i just had to write this

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waveridden · 7 years

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FIC: Venus (4/5)

“What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.” (A Campaign rock band AU. Tryst/Leenik/Aava, with background Zero/Blue.)

Read on Ao3 || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

THURSDAY

As soon as Aava opens the door, Leenik pushes his way into her apartment, a bottle of wine in each hand. She watches him in silence as he goes over to her couch, and as he sets one bottle on the coffee table, and then as he looks at her expectantly. His eyes are already glassy, and judging by the way he’s walking, he’s not sober. “Well?”

“Well,” Aava says, “I’m surprised you’re here.”

Leenik frowns. “Why’s that?”

Aava lifts a hand and ticks off one finger. “A, you don’t normally visit me.” Another finger. “B, you just got back from an incredibly long tour, I’m surprised you’re not at home with Tony.” Leenik grimaces at that; Aava ticks off another finger. “And C, you said when you came to pick him up that tonight was your big post-tour family dinner.”

“Oh, right.” Leenik scowls at the bottle he’s holding. “I’m skipping that.”

“Any reason?”

“Yes, there’s a reason. Do you have a corkscrew?”

Aava points at him. “You’re dishing.”

“Why?”

“Because you just showed up at my house. Call it your rent payment for when I let you crash on my couch.”

Leenik sighs. “Drinking, then dishing?”

“Deal.” Aava goes off to the kitchen. “Do you want stemmed or stemless glasses?”

“Glasses? No, I brought us a bottle each, it’s fine.”

“Some of us have things to do tomorrow.” Aava frowns. “Actually, I think both of us have things to do tomorrow, aren’t you performing?”

“Does that mean I can’t drink the full bottle?”

“It might mean that you shouldn’t. Stemmed or stemless?”

“Stemless. Are you sure?”

“Do you want to play your rock and roll concert hungover?”

When Aava returns with the corkscrew and glasses, Leenik is gazing mournfully at the wine bottle in his hand. He looks up at her, with his best kicked puppy look. “The worst part is that I know you’re right.”

“Must be hard dealing with that.” Aava plops down on the couch next to him; he plucks the corkscrew from her hand and uncorks a bottle. “Are we dishing now?”

“Not till I’m two glasses in.”

“Please. Half a glass.”

“One glass.”

Aava sighs, as though she didn’t know that that’d be his counter-offer, and as though that wasn’t her plan to begin with. “One glass, then feelings.”

Leenik makes a face, but he pours their glasses and snatches his out of her hand. “Are there rules about how fast I can drink the glass?”

“If I finish mine before yours, then that’s when we talk.”

“No, that’s how slow, I said how fast.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Good,” Leenik says, and chugs his glass.

Aava moves the open bottle away from Leenik and sips at her own glass. He gets like this sometimes, where he’ll do anything to avoid actually talking about what’s wrong. She’s no therapist, but she’ll listen, and he wouldn’t go to a therapist anyways. And besides, he always brings her wine, so it’s not like this is this is selfless on her part.

Leenik looks at her and blinks a couple times. “Refill?”

Aava hums and takes another sip. “Not till feelings.”

“I could go talk to Bacta instead, you know.”

“You could. But you’re here.”

“Yeah.” Leenik sighs, and all the tension leaks out of him. He goes boneless all at once, sagging against Aava’s shoulder.

Aava waits it out. They got all of their small talk out of the way earlier when he came to pick up Tony. She doesn’t have it in her to ask how the tour went, or how Tryst is doing, or any other banal questions.

After about a minute of Aava sipping wine in silence, Leenik groans. “I saw Chartreuse and it’s kind of my own fault and I think she hates me and I’m not sure she’s wrong.”

Aava thinks about that and knocks back the rest of her wine in one gulp.

“Refill,” Leenik says, a little impatiently.

“Mm.” Aava wipes away a stray rivulet of wine at the corner of her mouth. “That’s not feelings, that’s a situation update.”

“Semantics. Half glass?”

“Tell me why you saw her.”

Leenik sighs. “Tryst’s keyboard broke.”

“The one his sister gave him?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“The really shitty old one?”

“Yeah. Rosie.”

“Was he losing his shit?”

“Oh, completely.”

Aava smiles. “So. The keyboard broke.”

“And Chartreuse is good at fixing things, and I figured she could probably tune it up and stuff, so I told Bacta to call her, and then I ran into her.” Leenik sighs again, so hard that it pushes his head off Aava’s shoulder and into her lap. “And she hates me.”

“Does she?”

“I saw her face, she definitely hates me.”

“What did she do?”

Leenik grimaces. “Ran away.”

“And what did you do?”

“I’m not sure.”

Aava looks down at Leenik with her best not-buying-it bemused look. “Those hours are just lost to you?”

Leenik shrugs. “We rehearsed, and then our opening act rehearsed, and we went out for dinner together. And after about an hour I left early. Said I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Did anyone buy it?”

“Bacta definitely didn’t.” Leenik pauses. “The kids were all caught up in each other, they’re off in their own little world.”

“That’s your opening act?”

“Mmhm, they’re not half bad. Tamlin was worried, and I’d feel bad about that if he knew what was wrong. Tryst and Lyn were…” he makes a face. “I think they knew something was up, but they didn’t want to let on that they knew that something was up.”

“That sounds like Tryst,” Aava admits. “You could always-”

“Don’t say it.”

“It’s been seven years, Leenik.”

“They’re not going to look at me the same way.”

“That’s not a bad thing! If they know that this is a problem, then they’ll know how to help you.”

Leenik’s face twists into something painful. “I don’t want them to think something’s wrong with me because of where I’m from.”

Aava sighs. “Tryst didn’t leave the state of Arizona until he was twenty-one, is something wrong with him?”

Leenik’s face snaps into something offended. “Of course not.”

“Bacta was in the military and he’s still working through everything that comes with, is something wrong with him?”

“Okay, I see your point, but-”

“Our histories don’t have to make us who we are,” Aava says quietly. “If I’m more than the decades I spent in a bad family, then you’re more than your brother dying.”

“I think that’s a false equivalency,” Leenik says, and that’s how she knows that he can’t really argue. “Or maybe a strawman, one of those argumentative fallacies.”

“It’s definitely not a strawman.”

“Don’t look at me, I never went to college.” And then Leenik snaps his jaw shut with an audible click.

Aava sighs. “If I give you another half a glass, will you tell me what that’s about?”

“Do I have to?”

“Do you want wine?”

“I don’t have to take this, you know. I could be drinking alone.”

“If you wanted to drink alone, you wouldn’t be here.”

Leenik closes his eyes. “Fine, half a glass.”

Aava grabs his shoulder and drags him upright before pouring them each another half glass. Leenik’s a couple sips in before he says, almost absently, “What’s new with you, anyways?”

“Someone I know dislocated his hip,” she offers, swirling her wine around. “Work’s been boring.”

“Manage any good talent lately?”

“Good talent? In Hollywood?”

Leenik snorts and gulps down some more wine. “I mean, we’re here, right? The Mynock?”

“My point exactly,” Aava says. He shoots her a wounded look, and she laughs. “Oh, quiet.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it.”

“Do you think I should go to college?”

“Community or four-year?” Aava asks without thinking.

Leenik frowns. “I don’t know.”

“You could always start with community college. It’s a little looser, a good way to get back in the academic swing of things.”

“You were fine at a four-year school.”

Aava pauses, wineglass already at her lips. “I think that’s… a little different.”

People have told Aava before that she grew up in a cult. She doesn’t necessarily think that’s true, although maybe she’s not the best judge of her own trauma. All she knows is that her family loved her, and they always made it clear what she had to do to earn that love. She would stay with her family, unless she married someone. She would keep the faith. She would go to a four-year school, preferably the one in the city. She would be everything they taught her to be, and she would pass that onto any children she raised.

She and Grizelle had fought tooth and nail for the chance to leave the state for education. Utah, they’d argued, wasn’t the entire world, and they’d be better if they knew what was out there. They’d had to move to Phoenix together, and Grizelle had taken to it instantly, like she knew that this world was better. Aava had only wanted to get through university to return home, but Grizelle had always wanted to cut ties. Aava envies that, sometimes.

Leenik must realize what he’s skirting around, because he changes tack immediately. “Is it bad starting with community college?”

“Not at all. It’s probably cheaper, too.”

“You know that’s not really an issue, right?”

Aava rolls her eyes and drinks. Being friends with a platinum-selling artist is exhausting. “Just because it’s not an issue doesn’t mean it’s not nice.”

“That’s true,” Leenik admits. “Aava?”

“Leenik.”

“I like you.”

She smiles. She can’t help herself. “I like you too, bright eyes.”

Leenik positively beams at her. She half expects him to say something else, but he just keeps grinning at her, like she’s doing something helpful. Like she’s doing something good.

“I’m getting you water,” she decides, because she can’t let him keep looking at her like that, and because she’s sure that whatever version of this story Bacta hears tomorrow will end with her getting Leenik drunk. The least she can do is make sure he’s not hungover, too.

“Okay,” Leenik says as she gets to her feet. “Can you take me home?”

“Absolutely not, you knew you were staying the night when you showed up.”

“Yeah, but Tony misses me.”

“He can miss you for one more night.”

Leenik makes a face. She doesn’t see it from the kitchen, but she knows him, and he definitely makes a face. “Am I a bad mom?”

“You came back for him, that makes you all right in my book.”

“You and I are in no position to judge families.”

Aava hands him a glass of water. “Maybe,” she says quietly.

Leenik finishes his wine before taking the water. “Do you talk to your family?”

“Never. Do you?”

“I don’t have much in the way of blood family,” Leenik says, and then grimaces. “That was bad to say.”

“But it was true,” she says, noncommittal. “What about family that isn’t blood?”

“You know I don’t talk to them about this.”

“Why not?”

Leenik closes his eyes. “We don’t need to go over this again.”

“I think we might.” Aava sits carefully next to him on the couch, and he slumps into her side, water sloshing dangerously. “I’m more than happy to listen to you if you need it, you know that, but it’s not the same if it’s me.”

“Why not?”

“Because the band is your family now, and I’m not in the band.”

“I think you and Bacta should talk.”

Aava feels her eyebrows rise. “And why’s that?”

“Because you knew Grizelle better than any of us.” Leenik takes a drink of water; Aava takes advantage of the opportunity to roll her eyes. “And because you didn’t mean to kidnap Tamlin that one time-”

“It wasn’t-”

“-and because you’re friends with me, and with Tryst, and I don’t like that you and Bacta don’t get along.”

Aava carefully bites her cheek, because Leenik doesn’t understand. She knows that technically, and legally speaking, she kidnapped Tamlin, but they all know that it was an accident. She hadn’t known that Grizelle had named Bacta as Tamlin’s legal guardian in the event of her death. She hadn’t even known that Grizelle had a will. All she knew was that Grizelle was her best friend, and Aava was supposed to be the godmother to her children. And then Grizelle had died, and as far as Aava knew, she was suddenly the guardian of an eighteen-month-old baby.

Bacta insists - or he did, the last time that Aava argued with him about it - that Aava shouldn’t have done it. And she knows that on some level he’s right. But at the time, all she had known was the family, and the faith, and that Tamlin was hers. So she took him home. More out of habit than because she wanted to raise him there, but habit is a powerful creature. And it turned out, of course, that she had actually taken Bacta’s legal ward across state lines, which was a definite felony. Bacta declined to press charges, mostly for Tamlin’s sake, but he hasn’t forgiven Aava. He said he understood brainwashing but he didn’t understand what she did.

Aava doesn’t want his understanding. She just wants to see her godson regularly.

“Tell you what,” she decides. “If you talk to them about your brother, then I’ll sit down with Bacta and talk about… all that.”

“I don’t want to,” Leenik says plaintively.

Aava wraps her arm around his shoulders. “I don’t want to talk to Bacta either. But sometimes we do things we don’t want to do for people we like.”

“Mmph.” Leenik’s head drops onto her shoulder. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”

“But I am right.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to get blankets for you?”

“Do you have to get up?”

Aava isn’t working tomorrow. She’s visiting Blue in the hospital, sure, but she’s not working. She’s half tempted to lie and say yes, that she can’t stay, that she has to retreat to the safety of her own bedroom where she can avoid thinking about the past if she wants.

“No,” she says, and she stays.

Tryst calls about twenty minutes after Leenik falls asleep on her shoulder. “He’s with you?”

“He’s with me.” Aava glances over. He’s not drooling yet, but he’s definitely going to start. She can tell. “He’s kind of sloshed.”

Tryst sighs. “Do you need me to pick him up?”

“Not at all. He can stay on my couch.”

“Is he… y’know, okay?”

Aava thinks about it for a couple seconds. “No less so than usual,” she decides, because whether or not Leenik always expresses it, she’s pretty sure that he’s always this sad.

“That’s not encouraging,” Tryst mutters.

“It’s the best I can tell you.”

“I know.” He’s quiet for a couple seconds, and then: “So. What are you wearing?”

Aava snorts before she can help herself. “Your best friend is asleep literally on top of me right now.”

“So? Wake him up, he can be a part of this.”

“You think he’d be interested?”

“Dunno,” Tryst says thoughtfully. Too thoughtfully. “Do you?”

She feels like it’s a joke, maybe, but she can’t resist giving an honest answer. “I think he’d at least listen if we asked him.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh,” Tryst says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Aava repeats. “I’m hanging up now, I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Wait, we’re not talking about this now?”

“Tryst, he’s drunk.”

“What’s your point?”

“Asking him if he wants to date us when we’re barely dating each other is a sober conversation. For all three of us.”

“The fact that I know you’re right doesn’t make me resent it any less.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Aava smiles. God, these idiots. “Good night, Tryst.”

“Good night, Aava,” Tryst says. She can practically see him rolling his eyes as he hangs up.

Aava looks back down at Leenik, still fast asleep on her shoulder. She knows that in a minute she’s going to have to get up and go to bed properly, and maybe emotionally deal with asking her casual boyfriend to date a mutual friend, but for now, maybe she’ll live a little longer with Leenik asleep on her shoulder. There are surely worse fates.

FRIDAY

“Oh, god,” Blue says as soon as he sees Aava. “Are those flowers?”

“They are.” Aava can’t even hide her amusement; she’s smirking and she knows it. “But not for you.” And with that she turns to Zero and holds the bouquet out. “As a reward for putting up with him.”

“I’m touched,” Zero says, laced with so much sarcasm that Aava thinks he might actually mean it. He takes the bouquet and glances at Blue. “Hey. I got you flowers.”

Blue shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“What, you don’t appreciate my gifts?”

“Not when you’re regifting.”

“Primadonna,” Zero mutters, and Blue sniffs at him. It takes more effort than Aava wants to admit to keep her smirk from turning genuine. “You wanna sit down, A? Stay a while?”

“No,” Blue says immediately.

Aava, for the express purpose of fucking with Blue, sits in the chair next to Zero. It’s uncomfortable, because hospital chairs are probably required by some law to be uncomfortable. “So how did you dislocate your hip again?”

“We don’t have to do this,” Blue says. “You already know.”

“I know, but I want to hear you say it.”

Blue casts a pleading look at Zero, who’s suddenly very interested in the flowers, and then sighs. “I fell down the stairs.”

“You are a mess of a human,” Aava informs him. “Really, a disaster. I can’t wait to see you on crutches.”

“Oh, god, please,” Zero says instantly. “Anything to get him out of this fucking bed.”

“I don’t think you’re the one who has to be bothered by me being bedbound,” Blue says, and there’s a note in his voice that makes Aava sit up a little straighter. Some kind of a challenge, maybe.

Zero scoffs, apparently unbothered. “Yeah, I’m gonna leave my boyfriend alone in the hospital when he can’t walk, sounds good. You would’ve been even more insufferable without me there.”

“I don’t think being unhappy with a dislocated hip makes me insufferable.”

“That’s funny, considering I’ve been suffering.”

Aava thinks that maybe she was the one suffering, since she was also the one who had to drag Zero down to the cafeteria and make sure that he ate instead of just wasting away at Blue’s bedside, and Zero’s no fun when he’s moping. But it’s too much fun watching them snipe at each other to say anything about that.

Blue, for his part, rolls his eyes at Zero. “Then you could’ve left.”

“Yeah,” Zero says. “That was an option. Top of the list. Of course.”

Blue makes the same face that he always does when he’s confronted with genuine emotion in front of other people: one part affection, and at least four parts constipation. It’s there and gone in an instant before he looks at Aava. “Synox sent me flowers, you know.”

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Did he?”

“I think he had Fentara send flowers,” Zero mutters.

Blue ignores him. “I didn’t think he would.”

“Neither did I,” Aava admits. “Are you sure Fentara didn’t just send the flowers and put Sy’s name on it?”

Both Zero and Blue pause as they process that. “Maybe,” Blue allows after a few seconds.

Zero shakes his head. “Nah, Sy’s a genuine guy.”

“And he genuinely forgets Blue exists when he can,” Aava finishes, quirking an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Blue says again. “Or maybe he’s a good friend, unlike some people.”

“I’m a good friend!” Aava protests. “Look, I gave Zero flowers, that’s friendship.”

“I meant a good friend to me.”

“Oh, I’m a terrible friend to you.”

Zero snorts. “At least she knows it.”

“I know it,” Aava agrees. “And I want coffee. Zero, do you-”

“He can get it,” Blue says quickly. “Right, Zero?”

Zero casts a strange look at Blue. “Are you asking me to leave you both alone?”

“You haven’t walked around much lately, get up and go.”

“Flimsy,” Zero says, but he still sets down the flowers and gets to his feet. “I can’t get you any.”

“Yeah, painkillers, whatever.”

Zero glances at Aava. “You take yours black?”

“Blacker than my soul, if you can manage it,” Aava confirms, and Zero brushes his fingers against her shoulder as he leaves.

Blue clears his throat. Aava raises an eyebrow. He narrows his eyes. “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either,” she answers. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re cold and distant.”

“Glad we had this talk.”

“But,” Blue says, and he’s palpably choking on frustration, “Zero likes you. And apparently you’ve been dragging him to eat while I’ve been doped out on painkillers.”

“Or napping,” Aava says.

Blue winces, because he knows her and has probably guessed that she has a lot of blackmail pictures of him slack-jawed and drooling. “Look, I’m trying to say something here.”

“Nobody’s stopping you, hotshot.”

“I appreciate you looking after him,” Blue says stiffly.

Aava could drag this out and she’s pretty sure he’d let her, too. She could drag him through hell and back trying to get him to say thank you. This may be as close as he gets, though, and the guy dislocated his hip. Not even Aava is that cold. “He’s my friend.”

“I know that.”

“And I want him to be in one piece too.”

“Jesus, I get it, it’s not about me, but you’re still helping him,” Blue snaps.

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Do you want me to get out of here before you get too worked up?”

“God, yes,” Blue says fervently. Aava flicks him a mock salute before she gets to her feet. “And if you see Synox, or Fentara, say thanks for the flowers.”

“Synox won’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Probably not, but tell him anyways.”

“I will,” Aava says. “It’ll freak him out.”

Blue flashes a sharp grin. “Exactly.”

Aava smiles to herself as she leaves. Blue is kind of a shit, but he has his moments.

“Hey,” Zero’s voice says. When she glances over, he’s looking at her quizzically, a cup of coffee in each hand. “He okay in there?”

“Yeah.” Aava reaches out, and Zero hands her one of the cups. “I think he just tried to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Oh, god, did he pull a muscle?”

“It was a close thing,” she admits, and Zero laughs quietly. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

Zero shrugs and takes a long drink of his own coffee. “He’s an acquired taste. But he’s a good one.”

“You two are a good fit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aava smiles. “Get back in there, keep your boy company. I won’t be here to drag you out to lunch, but I’ll text you.”

Zero nods and reaches out a hand. Aava takes it, and he squeezes hers. “Thank you. I know you guys aren’t close, but thank you for visiting. And the flowers.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“No, the least you could’ve done was nothing, and neither of us would’ve thought twice about it.” Zero shakes his head. “Now you’ve probably gone and confused him.”

“I live to confuse him,” Aava says, and Zero laughs as he lets go of her hand. “I’ll visit again, really drive it home.”

“I can hear you,” Blue calls out petulantly. “And may I remind you that I’m injured.”

“I don’t think you’d let us forget,” Zero answers. Blue makes an indignant noise.

Aava grins. “I’ll see you two around,” she says, and starts down the hall, heels clicking on the hospital floor.

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

mid-morning Beatles covers pic.twitter.com/uzle3w9d

thomas @thomass Replying to @themynockleenik

Tryst’s #influence at work

a regular pollyanna @stardancing Replying to @themynockleenik

you should sing more, beatles or otherwise. (hard day’s night??)

Riley B @rileybread Replying to @themynockleenik

omg the acoustics wherever you are are lovely!

To: Leenik Geelo Are you still in my apartment?

To: Leenik Geelo And I saw the Twitter video so keep that in mind when you answer.

From: Leenik Geelo maybe

To: Leenik Geelo Why are you still in my apartment?

From: Leenik Geelo i’ll buy lunch and give you a ticket and backstage pass to tonight if you do my concert makeup

To: Leenik Geelo I pick what’s for lunch.

From: Leenik Geelo of course you do

To: Leenik Geelo And I’m picking Thai.

From: Leenik Geelo not that you’re predictable or anything but I already ordered it

To: Leenik Geelo Of course you did.

From: Leenik Geelo it’ll be here when you get back from errands

From: Leenik Geelo so, y’know, not to rush you or anything, but.

To: Leenik Geelo I’ll be back soon.

“I’m just saying, I think it’s worth a shot,” Leenik says, blinking wide-eyed at Aava.

“Stop blinking and close your eyes,” Aava sighs. He shuts his eyes obediently, and she leans in with her eyeliner. “And I’m telling you, no matter what you think of me-”

“And Tryst.”

“What about Tryst?”

“He likes you too.”

Aava snorts before she can help herself. Leenik cracks one eye open to glare at her, and she shakes her head. “Believe me, I know he does.”

“No, I mean as a person. Not just because you’re dating or whatever.”

“Well, I should hope whoever I’m dating likes me as a person. That’s not the point.”

“You’re being difficult.”

“Am I? Close your eye.”

Leenik closes one eye and opens the other. “I’m trying to say nice things to you.”

“Well, that explains why I’m being difficult, I’m not used to that.”

Leenik grimaces. “I don’t think I’m used to saying them either, so we’re figuring this out together. My point is that you’ve got more people on your side than you might think, so if you ask Bacta-”

“Then he’ll let me watch his son for the day even though he hasn’t so much as said hello to me in over three years?”

“You won’t know until you try.”

Aava sighs and sets the eyeliner pen on the counter. She places a hand on Leenik’s jaw and pushes, and he tilts his head obligingly, letting her look at her handiwork. Neither of them are physically intimate people, quite, but they’ve done this so many times that it’s a non-issue. He’s sitting on her bathroom counter, and she’s fixing his makeup, and that’s just how the two of them are. “Do you want mascara?”

“Nah, I’ll probably just pick it off.”

“What color do you want for your lips?”

“What are my options?”

Aava opens a drawer, and Leenik opens his eyes and leans over to look in it. “I can use any of these?”

“Any that you want.”

Leenik hums to himself and then plucks out a tube of bright pink, something that he definitely left there the last time Aava did his makeup. “This one?”

“You’re not much of an edgy rock star, huh?”

“What’s not edgy about neon pink?”

Aava smiles. “I guess it’s kind of glam rock.”

“Exactly.” Leenik grins at her, sudden and triumphant, and Aava’s not proud of the way her heart stutters to a stop for a second. He’s just so sad, so entrenched in old losses, and she knows the list of things that make him smile like that is fantastically short. Maybe she’s lucky to be on it.

She starts swiping the lipstick onto his lips. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go with you to the stadium, and I’ll tell Bacta I want to talk to him. And if he doesn’t seem like he wants to kill me with the power of his brain during that conversation, I’ll ask about watching Tamlin. But you have to make plans for an emergency band meeting, or something like that. Press your lips together.”

Leenik glares balefully at her as he rubs his lips together. He smacks them a couple of times and then says, “That’s not how band meetings work.”

“Isn’t it? I don’t remember all your rules.”

“Formal meetings are every other Monday and to debrief from tours and recording sessions.”

“Don’t you have a provision for personal crises?”

“Not a formal one.”

“You could institute one,” Aava suggests. “Now is a great time for new rules.”

“Aava, the end of a tour isn’t the time to disrupt a routine.” Leenik shakes his head at her. “Honestly, you were there when we came up with the original rules.”

“That was six years ago.”

“We all remember them, why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t have to?”

“You’re an honorary member, you should learn the rules.”

Aava raises her eyebrows. “Since when am I an honorary member?”

“We each get two honoraries. Mine are you and Tony.”

“What about your author guy?”

“I think he’s Bacta’s?” Leenik frowns. “Or he might be an actual member at this point, I need a refresher on the honorary rules.”

“Ha!” Aava opens a drawer and pulls out a fluffy brush and a palette of glitter that was definitely also Leenik’s at some point. “So you admit that even you can’t keep track of them all.”

“I have more to keep track of than you do.”

“Not an excuse.”

“Perfect excuse.”

Aava starts dusting glitter on Leenik’s cheeks. “Make all the excuses you want. But promise me you’ll find a way to bring up your problems, and I will too.”

Leenik waits until she moves her hand away and then nods at her. “Promise. Can I see?”

She takes a step back. “You can see.”

He jumps off the counter and turns to examine his reflection, and his mouth forms a perfect O. “Whoa.”

“You ready, rock star?”

“We need to go back to my place and pick a good outfit.” Leenik turns and looks at her expectantly. “If that’s okay with you.”

Aava laughs, a little helplessly. “You know what, bright eyes, I think I can live with that.”

As soon as the two of them walk backstage, Tryst whistles loudly. “Hel-lo, ladies.”

“Aava did my makeup,” Leenik says happily. “She’s better at eyeliner than you.”

Tryst snorts. “Buddy, that’s not news to anyone.”

“Least of all to you,” Aava murmurs as she looks around. Tamlin is nowhere to be seen. The new singer, who Aava’s met all of twice, is talking to a group of college-age kids - the opening act, if Aava were to guess. And Bacta is off to one side, giving Aava an unapologetically wary look. She looks away from him.

“Wow, you don’t need to insult my eyeliner skills like that,” Tryst says, although he clearly doesn’t actually care. “Hey, since we’re all here, do we want to have that, uh, that big conversation we were talking about?”

“Big conversation?” Leenik repeats, shooting Aava an unreadable look.

Aava frowns at Tryst. “Is now really the best time?”

“Can you think of a better one?”

“Sometime that isn’t before you two go perform a sold-out concert?”

“Well, there’s no need to put it off any longer.”

“Uh,” Leenik says, looking faintly alarmed. “What are we not putting off?”

Tryst looks at Aava and then, deliberately, grabs her hand. She takes a step closer to him, and Tryst takes a deep breath. “You wanna date us?”

Leenik narrows his eyes and looks between their faces and their hands. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Tryst says patiently.

“We can give it a trial run if you’d like,” Aava offers. “We don’t need an answer right now.”

Tryst frowns. “Uh, we would like one-”

Aava elbows him. “But if you need time to think about it, take as much as you need.”

“Or as little as you need.”

“Tryst-”

“Okay,” Leenik says.

Tryst blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Leenik repeats, more firmly, and leans forward and smacks a kiss directly onto Tryst’s lips. Aava barely has time to react before he turns to her and does the same, nothing but a brief, warm press of lips before he’s retreating, looking shy. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Tryst says, looking a little dazed, but he manages a brilliant smile. “We can- we can work on that later, but. Okay.”

“Cool,” Leenik says. His lipstick isn’t smudged. Aava glances at Tryst; there’s no pink on him. A damn shame. “Aava?”

“Yes, Leenik.”

“You should go do that thing we talked about earlier.” He looks deliberately over her shoulder to where Bacta is undoubtedly watching them.

Aava sighs. “I will. You look after my boyfriend, okay?”

“I will,” Tryst and Leenik say at the same time, and then look at each other in confusion.

Aava smiles and squeezes Tryst’s hand before letting go and walking towards Bacta.

“Aava,” he says, looking unimpressed. “I’m not going to date you, you know.”

“I’m not interested, but thank you for the clarification,” Aava says.

Bacta’s glowering only intensifies. “If there’s something I can do for you-”

“Let me take you out for coffee sometime.”

Not that she would ever admit it, but seeing how much that throws him off is maybe the most satisfying moment of Aava’s yeaer. “Excuse me?”

“I told Leenik,” she says, just to see him visibly relax, “that I would try and make nice with you. And I figure since half of your band and I are friends, that might be a good move.”

“What if I’m not interested?”

“Then you’ll try anyways, because you care about Tryst and Leenik.”

“You kidnapped my son.”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

Bacta frowns. “Just because I didn’t press charges-”

“Makes you a better person than me, but that’s not the point.” Aava presses her lips together and decides she has to change tactics. “I know we were never really friends.”

“No, we weren’t,” Bacta agrees, because he’s more of an asshole than most people want to admit. And they weren’t friends, not even when Grizelle was alive. That was never them.

“And I’m not trying to be your friend now. I’m just trying to clear the air.”

Bacta narrows his eyes at her in suspicion. “So is this about Tamlin?”

“Yes,” Aava says candidly. “Or it’s about how I knew Grizelle better than any of you did, and he deserves that link to her. Or it’s about wanting to be on good terms with someone I may be spending more time around. Or I’m just tired of there being bad blood.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“Like I said. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Leenik.”

Bacta’s shoulders relax fractionally. “And what if I say no?”

“Then I respect your right to spend your time around whoever you want, and I’ll leave you alone. Just tell Leenik I held up my end.”

“What was his end?”

Aava waves a hand. “Something that’s against some bylaws that you guys have, I can’t keep track.”

“We do have a lot of bylaws,” Bacta admits, and Aava knows that she has him. “Just coffee?”

“Just coffee. We can even set a timer if you want so there’s an end to the conversation.”

Bacta snorts. “I might take you up on that.”

“And I’ll pay,” Aava says, because she might as well.

Bacta nods slowly. “All right. I’ll… text you, or something.”

“Thank you,” Aava says. She’s surprised to realize how much she means it. “Bacta, really. Thank you.”

“I’m doing this for Tamlin,” Bacta says. “Not you.”

“If we can’t make peace for ourselves, we might as well make it for him,” Aava says matter-of-factly, and Bacta nods his agreement. “Also, you should know, I have a front row ticket and a backstage pass for tonight.”

Bacta groans. “Is that why you did Leenik’s makeup?”

“I would’ve done it without the ticket,” Aava admits. “But I’m sticking around.”

“Yeah,” Bacta sighs. “Guess I’ll have to get used to that.”

Aava looks back at Tryst and Leenik. They’re off in their own corner now, heads bent together. Tryst has an arm slung loosely around Leenik’s waist. When he notices her looking, he grins, just for a second, before going back to talking.

She smiles, as carefully as she can manage. “Yeah. I guess you will.”

Mynock Tour Clips @mynockclips

Tonight’s tour clip is a cover of CREEP by Radiohead twitter.com/themynockband/status/629374014729

PATRICIA @paticaaaakes

the mynock: we’re not like those other bands playing bad songs like wonderwall. anyways here’s creep by radiohead

ali @alistairstares Replying to @paticaaaakes

at least it was a good cover,,, like damn lyn can sing

PATRICIA @paticaaaakes Replying to @alistairstares

omg i know… i want her to be my mom

ali @alistairstares Replying to @paticaaaakes

HARD SAME, ACTUALLY?

PATRICIA @paticaaaakes Replying to @alistairstares

@.lluroon adopt us please

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

no guerilla filming tonight, check back tomorrow

Aava Arek @aava Replying to @themynockleenik

pic.twitter.com/a82ldjd9

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @aava

holy shit

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

apparently I lied, the guerilla filmer has become the guerilla filmee twitter.com/aavaarek/status/283018472937

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockleenik

@aava why did you film that

Aava Arek @aava Replying to @themynockleenik

Tryst started serenading you and you thought I wouldn’t film it?

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @aava

point

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

last show tomorrow

Chapter 5

#campaign #campaign podcast #campaign fic #trylaava #zeblue #AT LAST THE SHIP TAGS #waveridden.fic

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