text | un: m.cabrera

[naloxone]

[ turns out? space doesn't give a single fuck about your circadian rhythm. or maybe insomnia is just that attached to her that even the absence of a sun dictating her internal clock doesn't faze it, like an old friend you wish would just forget you already.

one night (?) late into the early hours (???) marta finds herself drifting out of the room she's come to assume will be hers for the indefinite future, passing through stark white walls with all the sterility of a hospital, but none of its familiar chaos.

she's still getting used to the earpiece. still getting used to hearing other people's voices in her head. she doesn't mean to add another in the void, but one of her own thoughts blares out too vividly as she stares out into an actual void: ]

—but where are the stars?

Comments

[naloxone]

[ ....oh. ]

Sorry. For what it's worth, even with all that, you still got up to fight. You still offered your help with the orb.

Maybe the outcome isn't always as important as the intent.

[ marta has to wonder if she'd even be brave enough to do that much... ]

It's not a problem. You've probably got plenty of visitors as it is, and you should be resting for the most part. But if the nights get too silent for you, I'm around.

I'm not much of an artist, but I love to read, too.

[peasant]

that's true enough.
it had less to do with the orb, at that point, and more to do with what they were being used for. i'm not fond of bullies.

[ or leaving princesses to a lonely fate of suffering, for that matter. ]

plenty of visitors makes me sound like a popular commodity. that's flattering.

you're not much of an artist, and i'm not much of a patient. 😋
fortunately for us i don't mind sharing my books with a non-artist.

[naloxone]

I'd wondered about that. If these orbs are powerful enough to do these favors for us, what would someone who's got it all to themselves use it for...

[ nothing selfless, it seems. apparently greed for power is multi-universal. ]

I wouldn't call you a commodity, but a good friend. You're not feeling well, yet here you are answering my questions and offering me your books.
Who wouldn't want to be around someone like that?

cw references to racism

[peasant]

selfishness, mostly. power has a way of corrupting the best intentions.
but not everyone falls victim to it. so-yeon surrendered the orb at the cost of her life in our first mission.
she only wanted to find peace.

[ but it had shaken alina, all the same, to witness how so-yeon had made herself a martyr. serenely, too — willingly accepting the fate that might wait for alina, herself, one day. that mirror is too unnerving to force herself to look into it. ]

more people than you would think. you might be surprised.

[ zoya's whisper is still a venomous hiss in her ear, so similar to the same poisonous insults she's faced in ravka. you stink of the orphanage, halfbreed. but it doesn't seem to matter here, she's found — and isn't that its own sense of poetic tragedy? finally finding that place where no one cares where she's from, only to realize she'll have to return to ravka one day.

in a quick attempt to recover from those thoughts: ]

what kind of books are your favorite?
hopefully not history. i didn't take many of those.

[naloxone]

Then perhaps those people have been given too much importance for too long.

[ but marta gets it. or, an aspect of it anyway. it's hard to ignore the voices of those who have grown far too loud in the comfort of always being heard and listened to. ]

I've enjoyed a little bit of everything. History would actually be pretty interesting, if they're of other places.
But I'll take whatever you can spare. Fiction's always been a go to. Anything with a happy ending is always nice.

[peasant]

[ how long is too long? it's an unsettling thought, carrying the burden of time that kirigan has — that kovacs has, that rhys has. immortal bones and hearts, all weighed down by eternity in different ways, all made into monsters at some point along the way.

she doesn't want to send herself spiraling into the question of whether she's next, of how soon it will be before she counts herself among that number — if she survives at all. she skims past the sentiment in agreement, for focus on something much more easily answered. much more capable of having a happy end to it. ]

i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but some of the other orbers ripped out pages from kilnan's history books.
but i have other stories i can tell you. worlds with magic and unicorns, if you like fairytales.
most of the books i took were ... you'll find out when i show them to you.

whenever you're ready to borrow them, you'll know where to find me.
mostly because, well, i can't really go anywhere else.

[naloxone]

It must be frustrating to be stuck, but it's for a good reason I'm sure.
Visiting hours probably don't exist here anyway, so there's that.
And since you're up now... If you don't mind, I'd love to hear a story.

[peasant]

being frustrated is better than being dead. i can't complain too much.
i'm in the bed. near the corner of the door? come by and i'll fish out my best stories for you.
well. they're not my stories, exactly, but ... i don't think my resident storyteller will mind me passing them on.