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theskella · 1 year

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That's New - An Exocolonist Fic

I recently played I Was a Teenage Exocolonist, and I absolutely adore it.

But there’s criminally little fic and content regarding my good good Squat Queen.

So I wrote a fic myself.

The punishingly dry air of Dust stings Sol’s near-sleepless eyes as he finally leaves his room, having abandoned making up for lost sleep. Groggy and stompy bootsteps bring him out to the overly-familiar sight of the multicoloured Vertumnan sky above, and the colony he has spent eons building and rebuilding from just off on the sidelines below. The noises of late morning activity on the farm serve to lightly annoy the tired teen. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed a restful sleep every now and then? He thought. I mean these folks owe me that much, surely. There were a few lifetimes that Sol bitterly considered how little credit he was allowed for managing so many lives, caring for the tapestry of the exocolonists' story here. Having staved off disaster after disaster, all without being believed that he was the weaver.

Familiarity breeds contempt. An old adage he despised crept its unwelcome way to Sol’s forebrain. There was another that Sol learned – from a cartoon, no less – that he’d often turn to to quiet the worming, malicious thought.

When you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all.

Sol looks over the railing to the colony. He’d subtly influenced so much to award himself this view, the greatest view of the colony, from where he could see all of his friends, and the infinite; though arduously realized, potentials they have. But chief among these, for this, the last, and so many other innumerable lifetimes, Sol’s eyes fall thus again to Nemmie. Her shock of vibrant red hair is easy to spot. Leading the jogging group of Helios, ahead even of Vace, a fact that – from its gilded frame in the hall of his most precious memories – reminds Sol that Vace seethes over. Sol chuckles, mentally viewing the thought, pondering over its fine-tuned aesthetic distance. When probed, Vace used to erroneously claim that it’s to ‘watch her go’, but Sol knows from thousands of lives that Nemmie is just naturally faster. Even he has struggled to keep up with her in their many foot-races from childhood to now.

Fortunately, Sol had already crested the hump, Nemmie had broken up with Vace a few weeks ago. This time an argument over having another man’s name tattooed on her arm lit the fuse. Nemmie’s stalwart defense of the personally important tattoo earned a terminal bout of silent treatment from which their already unhealthy relationship would not recover. Of course, Sol had to play a part. A part that once seemed difficult and uncomfortable; but with recitation and understanding of his motivation, he no longer felt or acknowledged that difficulty. Separating Nemmie from a woefully ill person in such a delicate time was the easiest of the boundless choices Sol makes.

Sol’s groggy waking movements begin to pick up as the still-overbearing heat of Dust bids his blood to pump. He passes Cal, pushing a heavily laden wheelbarrow outside Geoponics. Sol stops him from his work to hand him a Bobberfruit, clapping him on his unyielding shoulder.

“Man, Dust always makes me wish I had your augment!” Sol jokes as he repeatedly flaps the hem of his shirt to cool himself. Sol keeps up chit-chat until Cal idly bites into the fruit, letting Sol know that he’d devour it shortly. Despite his love of food, Cal’s dedication to work often has him skipping meals, a fact Sol has never quite been able to influence beyond joining Tammy in regularly putting food in his hands. As he jogs away letting Cal get back to it, Sol quickly pulls his holopalm up to update Tammy in the private chat they keep to let her know. A moment later she sends back two emotes, a sandwich, and the custom Tangent emote that Marz convinced Nomi to make as part of a set for all of them. Sol sends back a selfie: a single hand held in prayer in front of a bashful smile in thanks.

Next on Sol’s walk he passes Rex and Marz sitting casually on the steps up to Command. It’s always fun to try to get a reaction from the highly charismatic duo. Let’s see how they like this. Sol happily doffs his shirt with relief and enters their field of view, muscles aglow with beads of sweat, prompting a hearty, familiar and welcome howl from Rex. Marz soon joins in, similarly enjoying the show. Sol draws his hands up and down his rugged torso, mimicking some of the salacious videos Rex had shown him and Marz and taking more and more dramatic poses earning excited whoops and hollers. After wheeling around from flaunting his tush, the realization comes too late that Rex has advanced the bit and is racing toward him. It’s too late to brace and the collision brings the two young men to the ground, tumbling. All three laugh at the scene. From the ground for a brief moment, Dys can be seen peeking from over the hill the gate stands upon. Sol finds his eyes just long enough to convey a greeting in passing– Dys’ preferred morning interaction. Rex has gotten up and grips Sol’s forearm to pull him to his feet and brushes him off, cheekily spending more time than needed pawing at his body.

“Sorry, can’t help but chase juicy pieces of meat.” Rex says with his wolfish grin, his eyes don’t make contact with Sol’s, choosing to linger elsewhere. The emphasis is a little too thick but that’s to be expected. Sol replaces his shirt, ruffles Rex’s piebald hair a bit and softly pushes his head back toward Marz. Looking to where she’s lounging on the stairs, Sol returns the smile and sultry wave she gives him as their eyes meet. Her attention turns back to Rex as he starts hustling toward her, before turning to give a goodbye wave to Sol with a huge smile on his face.

Moments later Nomi Nomi suddenly bursts into Sol’s’ vision in an eruption of shiny and colourful clothing, loud-but-lovely hair and inexhaustible energy.

“HEY SOL! Guess what! Guess guess guess!” They greet with far more energy than should be allowed this early.

Without even waiting for a guess they immediately launch into a story about a thread of comments that the stories they’ve been writing together are getting. People really seem to enjoy them, as Nomi all but squeals to him.

“I can’t tell you how I know, but even some of the Helios kids are being nice!” Nomi pulls Sol’s sleeve to lower his ear to their face “I… snooped a little and they’re even writing fanfics based on our stories!” they say in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.

Sol encouragingly offers that perhaps the Helios aren’t as violent as they seem, and it’s a matter of perception that paints them as such. Nomi excitedly agrees and rushes off, yelling over their shoulder that they have a duty then, to encourage this creativity.

Gazing over to the Garrison shows the joggers are still running a few laps. I probably have some time then. He livens his pace a little toward the Engineering building. When he arrives he is happy to be greeted by Tangent and Tammy together in the hall. Tang is sat on the floor, busied by interfacing with her holo-eye, and taking breaks to chug from an energy drink. Tammy for her part is taking advantage of Tang’s hyperfocus to swap the energy drink for water, and keep a stream of idle chatter to distract her from the moments Tammy holds a sandwich half to Tang’s lips, prompting her to bite. Tammy catches Sol’s eye and gives a pronounced sarcastic eye roll and warm smile. Sol puts his hand to his heart and mouths ‘thank you’.

It didn’t take much to get Tammy to agree that Tang takes poor care of herself, but there was significant coaxing into convincing Tammy that Sol would help keep Cal fed if Tammy helped Tang in turn. Cal’s issue was in not stopping to eat, while Tang’s was thinking anything you eat would do for nutrition. Tammy’s significant culinary ability would be better spent keeping Tangent off of an all-protein bar diet. Tammy was reticent at first, knowing Tang’s past bitter refusal to be cared for. Sol did eventually convince her to give it a shot, saying that slowly but surely, Tang’s gotten over that attitude. As Sol approaches, he pings Tangent from his holopalm to ‘look up’. She does so, and is a little surprised by Tammy’s presence. Tammy reflexively stiffens, but Tangent is– however removed from the situation she may be– thankful for the food, and takes it from Tammy to continue eating. Tammy sighs in relief as she rises to her feet while being careful to keep the energy drink she’s protecting Tang from hidden behind her. The sweet girl places a gentle hand on Sol’s shoulder before excusing herself to the Creche.

“How are the tests for the modified pomoea batatas going?” Tangent asks, rapidly switching from tasks to attention to Sol.

“Things look good so far, they’re able to take to Vertumnan soil now. However, Cal let me know that they are also being singled out by an endemic fungus.” Tang curses under her breath as Sol speaks, clearly disappointed but in a way one could have expected.

Sol is mindful to mention “Cal thinks their enhanced nutritional load is prompting the targeted parasitism. You should talk to him about it, he’s really come into his own in terms of the science of farming.”

Tangent, quite without knowing it, pays Cal a compliment, “Yes, he has been helpful. I will do so.” It isn’t much, but Sol knows better than most to take careful measure of the words Tangent uses, she’s likely already considered their meaning 3 or 4 times before saying them.

Sol wishes her well as he leaves, watching over his shoulder to see Tang munching on the last bit of her sandwich with a surprising vim. It comes as a huge relief, she’s seemed much healthier overall, since Sol stood by her side against Lum’s push for a plague.

Sol exits the Engineering wing into the none-waned heat to see with shielded eyes the Garrison clearing out from the track. Nemmie is punching arms and waving goodbyes before she looks up and spots Sol, she exaggerates her waving to him in a way just familiar enough to when they were kids that it makes his chest flutter. A beat passes before Nemmie starts bouncing into a run toward him. He starts to bob along to meet her. Though, Sol notes, she’s gradually picking up the pace as she nears. Sol realizes then, this isn’t a run– it’s a charge! Ignited with a youthful flame, Sol sets his form like he used to when the Garrison was mostly an official excuse for him and Nemmie to rough-house. Before the fall of the Strato. Before the arrival of the Heliopause and before Vace made the entire space feel coarse and– ironically, alien.

Nemmie is approaching at a blitz, Sol looks for any sort of indication of the opening volley– a tackle? A flying kick? What’s her plan? The heavy footfalls Nemmie makes reach Sol’s ears now, his fingers twitch in anticipation. Nemmie is within 4 meters and his defensive posture stiffens, a stoic-looking Nemmie kicks off the ground, turning to the side and sailing through the air to deliver– nothing? She’s just flying toward– OH SHIT! Unsuspecting arms reach out to catch his friend, but the force is just a little too much and Sol is taken to the ground. Nemmie lands in a ball on top of him before bursting out laughing, a sound he hasn’t heard for far too long.

“You’re supposed to catch me null-head!” Nemmie’s eyes peer up from where her head rests on Sol’s chest, behind the tangled, beautifully chaotic mass of red curls that coil and tumble over his chest. The sight reminded him of more treasured memories, desperately and excitedly piecing together fractions of his wife’s face from behind those same curls, grown out and allowed to be wild once more. He forced his current-self to compose again, before things got inappropriate.

He fires back. “I was expecting you to hit me!”

She tosses her hair out of her face with the back of her hand, then presses into Sol’s chest to extricate herself. “You gotta be ready for anything, farmboy. Expect me to run this drill again.”

The smirk she wears now is knowing, Sol’s aware, she’s aware. Before leaving the Garrison, Sol outranked her– fair enough, he was intimately familiar with bolstering his performance– in fact thinking about it, even now she is one rank lower than he was, who is she to assign drills? She’s taunting him.

He’s not having it.

His fingers find Nemmie’s sides and rub, dig and grind prompting a flurry of jerky movements and fits of laughter. Despite all her training, Nemmie has always been ticklish. All the training did was make Sol have to work for it. The giggly girl desperately paws, punches and slaps away at the offensive, but to little avail. Soon Sol has pushed himself off the ground and over Nemmie, who is laughing and rolling about, fully at his mercy.

These dear, childhood friends carry this on for a few more moments, the less fun passerbys scoff and give a wide berth. Eventually Nemmie taps, completely robbed of breath and laying on her back to catch it. Sol is similarly posed beside her, relishing his best friend’s returning energy.

“Hey have you eaten?” He says, tapping his knuckles on her shoulder. “I’ve got Xeno Eggs at my place– Cal’s certain they’re for eating.”

Nemmie almost starts an excuse, Sol knows the tells. Her hand raises toward her head to run her fingers through her hair. But– it stops. Her hand is paused in the air. There’s a moment in Sol’s mind that feel’s… a bristling discomfort, almost a chill. Nemmie is up on her feet before Sol’s given a chance to dwell on it.

“That sounds great! I’m starving.” Nemmie reaches that same hand towards him. He cranes forward to reach for it, but Nemmie reels it back before his grip can find her, awkwardly spending Sol’s effort and making him look foolish. She’s back to laughing.

A classic Nemmie rug-pull. Her laughter plays like music in Sol’s ears as he grins and gets up on his own, playfully batting away renewed offers to help him up.

“But hey– I’ve gotta shower and change first, I’ve already worn these fatigues for a solid week, and I stink.” She says pulling at her collar and fanning her face in mock disgust. Sol hadn’t even noticed.

“It’s no big deal, You can shower at my place, and I think I still have a set of your sweats from last Wet. Clean, of course.” Sol offers up, not wanting to waste any of her time, he knows how dedicated she’s made herself to the Garrison.

The pair trek back, retracing Sol’s earlier walk until they arrive at his home. His parents are going to be working, so they essentially have free run. All the while through the walk, Nemmie is– at least by comparison to earlier this month, in high spirits. She asks about Sol’s expeditions, and how he’s doing with his photophoner practice. She’d gifted him that very same photophoner when they were kids, and he’s kept immaculate care of it since. Sol’s glad to talk about anything non-military with her. He’s surprised when passing Cal. Nemmie sends a small, brief wave back when Cal greets Sol. It apparently surprises Cal too, as he nods back at her with a quizzical look on his face.

Once inside, Nemmie beelines immediately to the shower. Calling back to Sol that she won’t be long and to just toss the sweats in when he gets the chance. Sol makes for the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients and supplies for omelettes from the fridge and preheating the pan. Swiftly, Sol retrieves the sweats that had indeed been left when Nemmie got caught in a bad rainstorm and sheltered here, wearing some yet-to-be-returned clothes of his to get back to the Garrison when there was a break in the rainfall.

Sol approaches the bathroom door, calling out “Delivery” before momentarily cracking the door and throwing in the clothes, then going out to the kitchen again.

Benefited by the lifetimes he’s spent helping in the cafeteria kitchens, it’s a trivial thing to prepare some Xeno omelettes. So his mind comfortably wanders as he moves on autopilot. Something’s been nagging at the very cusp of his mind since he felt that chill, but he can’t pin it down. He abandons the quest when he realizes he should ask Nemmie what cheese she wants, some colony kids take issue with floatcow cheese. He rounds the corner to the hall the bathroom door is in and is greeted with a Nemmie fresh out of the shower, just starting to pull the sweater down over her slick, rugged abs, freezing him in place.

“Oh, sorry!” Nemmie blushes, tugging the sweater down over her “I rushed out when I smelled the food” she exclaims, trying to change the subject.

“Speaking of shredded; what kind of cheese would you like on your omelette?” Sol asks, holding the pan with the nearly cooked eggs inside. He punctuates with a teasing wink. She punches his arm in answer to this teasing when she walks over.

“Floatcow’s fine. Stars, it really does smell fantastic in here. Lucky me– having a renowned cook-off champion as a best friend.” Nemmie boasts with a grin.

After finishing the omelettes with cheese and neatly folding them, Sol leads Nemmie into the den, choosing to eat on a comfy couch. The pair wordlessly adopt an arrangement they’ve had for a long time: sat facing each other, Sol cross-legged and reclined on the arm of the sofa and Nemmie laid out with the soles of her feet pressed against his stomach. Many cartoon marathons in the lounge of the Strato were enjoyed just like this. Between bites, Nemmie heaps praise on Sol for his cooking, and wishes she had the time to learn to cook like this. Sol offers to just cook for her and Nemmie lets out a singular laugh with her mouth full.

“Imagine, my own personal chef.” she says, a lilt of joking wistfulness in her voice before swallowing.

“Marz would be so jealous.” Sol points out before taking another forkfull. Something about Sol’s comment gives Nemmie pause, her eyes dart about and blink rapidly.

“Thank you, Sol.” Nemmie’s tone shifts, growing more serious as she continues, “I know that you put a lot of effort into making sure we’re all… just– thank you. You’re the best, most caring person on this planet. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her foot idly presses and rubs against his stomach.

Sol places his plate on the coffee table and gently places his hands on Nemmie’s legs, warming toward answering her sudden candour, “Nemmie is everything alright?”

She smiles somberly. Her eyes are cast down on the empty plate she’s fiddling with. She takes a few breaths before saying “Yeah. Yeah, things are… better. I’m just–” she pauses. A long moment ticks by in the measure of her breathing before she finishes her thought.

“Everything made sense to me when I was with Vace–” she puts her hands out defensively in front of her and quickly covers– “I know, I know, he was awful. But things were easy. It’s hard to describe. It’s like, I was already angry and hurting, so Vace just felt like more of the same. I could deal with it, it was just part of the norm. And I’m happier now, but– without Vace I can see how lonely I was, how alone I made myself by tying myself up in his approval, and I’m… I’m scared that the person I was– who I let myself be when I was with him…”

Sol’s squeezes on her calf, trying to silently convey his empathy, to make it more tangible to her that he was listening. Nemmie’s feet swing suddenly over the edge of the couch, she spins to her knees sending her plate clattering to the ground and her falling toward Sol, catching him in a hug.

Her eyes are welling up, and she sniffles into Sol’s chest before continuing to speak, though the words are laden with effort to keep her tears back. “I don’t want to be that lonely person,” she manages to squeak out in a whisper. Sol’s arms went around her in reflex, and tighten now as he’s clueing into what she’s trying to say. He hushes her. Letting her know it’s ok. He lets her breathe for a moment, comforting her until he can compose what he wants to say.

“Nemmie. Nothing could change so drastically that I– or any of us for that matter– would hate you,” She wetly sniffles some more, trembling but still holding tightly.

“We know who you are, and… as bad as things seemed sometimes, we knew that it wasn’t– that it’s not who you are,” his hand cups the back of her head, stroking her hair. “We were sad, and it hurt. But I promise that we love you. And it’s because we love you that it hurt to see you acting that way.” His own words are beginning to choke in his throat, but he tries to keep it together.

“How can you know?” her question is heavy with worry.

Sol can’t tell her. Not that she’d even believe him, that he’s already grown up with them countless times, and nothing has ever truly torn them apart. They’ve strained, frayed at the edges and shown wear and tear, but the tapestry remains beautiful– mending, patches and all.

“Because I know my friends. You’ll have to trust me.” Sol offers instead, though it’s not what he wishes he could say.

She lifts her head up to look him in the eye, though his chest is no lighter for it. Tears have left trails down her freckled and scaled cheeks. Her eyes are puffy and red and searching his. The hug tightens on her subconsciously.

“I– I do,” her voice is steady now as she answers.

Then, quite brashly and without warning– Nemmie brings her lips to Sol’s. A moment cast in the haze of elation passes before Sol gently separates her from him.

“Nemmie wait–” he’s at once cursing himself and eagerly encouraging his next words– “you’re… you’re going through a lot right now. Are you sure– I mean, I don’t want you to…”

The faintest expression of doubt passes over the face of his best friend. Sol didn’t want her to jump into something like this out of stress. Wait–

“You’re right, I’m a wreck right now,” she starts softly and straightens herself up, pushing back off of him. Sol wants to disagree with her words, but she doesn’t give him a chance. “But you’re here for me. You’ve always been there, even when I thought I didn’t want you to be.” She starts out whispering, but she reaches her hand forward, her fingers barely graze against the arms that held her, and the quiet voice dissipates as she finds her confidence. And her hand gently but firmly grasps Sol’s wrist

“I’ve been thinking about this. You’re caring, you’re funny, I–” she takes a deep breath. “I don’t feel lonely with you. You’ve been my best friend for as long as we could walk. You’ve never once forgotten my birthday. I can talk to you about anything.” Her words fluctuate in volume and tone, it’s clear that she has thought about it, but the thoughts are coming out in a random priority.

It’s adorable.

“And– you make me feel safe.” She finally exhales.

Sol’s neck hair stands on end, as he finally catches that evasive, errant thought. Or rather it rockets toward him, a collision that shakes every corner of his consciousness.

“I– I’m in love with you, Sol.” Her brilliant, purple eyes lock with his, and he feels unable to breathe.

She’s never been the one to confess–

That’s new.

And that’s all for now. I want to continue writing this, but I felt like this was a good enough point to post a Part One.

comments in good faith welcome

#i was a teenage exocolonist #iwatex #exocolonist #sol exocolonist #anemone exocolonist #cal exocolonist #dys exocolonist #tangent exocolonist #tammy exocolonist #marz exocolonist #rex exocolonist #nomi exocolonist #Sol/Nemmie #exocolonist vace

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