[open] bad dreams are made of these

[scrubscrub]

Who: Koala and you!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Huntress and Iskaulit
When: May 16th-ish. (Prose or action brackets both welcome!)


(Warnings for child abuse and traumatic dream stuff.)


Small fishing boat, it's on fire.

She wants to jump but she's not a good swimmer. Someone grabs her by her legs, holds her like a prized fish, and she flails. 'Got a live one,' Blurry Face says, 'This one'll make for a fine addition.' Dad doesn't call out for her anymore, because Dad is — wake up, wake up, wake up, open your eyes...!

Bright lights, classical music, Koala drags her feet. The stage is lit, hurts her eyes, she swears she sees her mom and dad sitting in the front row. Do they see she's scared? She just wants to go home. She's the smallest on the stage, and she sells for more than she's ever heard; she remembers thinking coins in a jar were pretty and shined like treasure, but it's really not a lot now that she hears the other prices on other chained people, some shaped human and others shaped not. Someone near her is dancing and performing on command, but they don't look like they enjoy dancing much at all. Mom and dad watch and clap and smile. Koala pulls at her metal collar and blubbers miserably, fat hot tears down her face. Why aren't they coming up to the stage and taking her back? She's not anybody's but theirs. She wants to go home.

She forgot dad's rules. His dying rule. Whatever you do, Koala, don't cry. They won't like it when you cry, she understands now. They see it as weak, annoying. But she can't stop. Why can't she stop sobbing? She never sobbed in the auction house...! The master, holding his ring of keys, steps forward and lumbers high above her (he shouldn't be here, he should be in the clouds, in his mansion with his family who refuses to breathe peasant air), and says sharply, 'I hate crying little brats,' and then he pulls his hand back at her and swings roughly and—

Koala wakes with a start, hand clutching the fabric over her heart and she shakes and pants and smiles wide impulsively.

Just the dreams, just the dreams sometimes. She touches her neck and finds it smooth, not buckled with explosives.

Safe.

Safe in a bed that is hers, in a room that is hers, in a crew that is not going to be cruel to her. And yet she can't cry about this. Crying for others is easy, but for herself — it's too frightening. She breathes out, forces back any of the burn in her eyes, and shuffles out of bed, still in the jumpsuit she wears as pajamas. She really should put her shoes on. Nobody likes dirty little feet on their clean floors.

She slips her shoes on, one at a time, and rises. She's not sure if others are sleeping for the 'night', because there really isn't a night, but it's undoubtedly not daytime on the moon, so people are more likely asleep than not. Instead she goes out and makes herself a glass of tea and a small bowl of food, and tries to calm herself with it. There's an uneasiness about her as she sits in the kitchen, hair a bit wild and sweat on her brow. But she slowly does calm over time, is slowly able to eat with a steadier hand. The adrenaline has tapered off, but her mind is restless.

Going back to sleep sounds scary.

She gets up and wanders aimlessly around the Iskaulit... anywhere, really. She doesn't want to go to the planet (it's dark! nobody should like the dark), but she doesn't want to be standing still, certainly. Some motion will do her good. Somewhere to focus, yes! She simply needs to smile and face her day, and remember that things are so very good. Remember, papa would like for you to be happy. Remember, he told you never to cry. You've already broken that, but... But! You can still be strong!

One can find her on the Huntress, or in her aimless wandering from bar to gym to garden to - anywhere, really, on the Iskaulit.

She is rather determined to occupy herself with what everyone else is doing.

Comments

[nerdeology]

[Well, crap, now he feels like he's invaded on something he wasn't supposed to see. Such is the life of the helplessly invisible.

It's not like he can unsee it now, but it doesn't feel right to let her keep thinking she's alone- not only because of the invasive nature of it, but also because it really seems like she shouldn't be alone right now. He can't tell if she has her communicator with her, so quietly he reaches out and sets a hand on the table, calling upon his seraphic artes. Ice spreads a few inches from his palm as he lift his hand, until a little flower rests on the table- the same as the one he'd left in her room before. He figures that's enough of a hint that it's him.

Want some company, kiddo?]

[scrubscrub]

[.......!!

She glances up from the flower, surprised at first, and then smiling a little despite how weary she looks. She's having an easier time the longer she's awake instead of rolling in her dreams, and Mikleo's presence is a nice addition to keep her occupied.]

Hello, Mr. Mikleo! what are you doing up?

[nerdeology]

[He passes his hand over the surface of the table, giving it a frosty layer, then writes-

"don't need sleep"

and then, below it-

"your comm?"]

[scrubscrub]

[... Oh! She blinks once, seems to get the gist as she reaches for her own comm.]

... Mr. Mikleo? Can you hear me well?

[Come on Koala, you've spoken to him on it before.

Politeness is clearly still the most important, okay.]

[nerdeology]

[Oh god, that is the weirdest. Not only is he hearing his own voice twice, thanks to it coming from the comm, but he can hear hers twice as well. He's just gonna. Turn the comm's volume down.]

You don't need to speak through the comm, I can hear you just fine in the room. I thought it would be easier if you could hear me, instead of me writing everything out.

[scrubscrub]

O-oh! Sorry, sorry; that was very foolish and absent-minded of me...! I'll do better!

[She focuses on his instruction, sitting straighter. If we just... adjust, then it'll play at the same time as you speak! Which is still... weird... but better than hearing all that in unison. A-ahaha.]

It is nice to have something you can speak through, isn't it?

[nerdeology]

It's useful, for sure.

[He has no idea how the technology works, or why it can just bypass the resonance requirement, but he's not going to complain.]

What are you doing up so late? Don't children usually sleep at this hour?

[scrubscrub]

[... Um...

She glances down, blushing a little. She's not used to even being able to wander, to be able to do anything but lay in bed and hide how you feel. But Mikleo's asking, and she's trying to be honest, and...]

I was having some bad dreams. Th-that's all, sir! Nothing to worry about.

[nerdeology]

["Sir"? Is that because of the captain thing, or just nerves? Hmm.]

Bad dreams are often worrisome, you know. Do... ah... do you want to talk about it?

[scrubscrub]

[She laughs quietly, and it's oh-so-forced and awkward.]

I... It's fine...! I don't want to upset you... And my dreams are hardly of any importance when you consider everything else! I'm just being silly, really.

[nerdeology]

[....

The nice thing about children is that usually, they're very bad liars. It's easy to tell when they're not being honest about something.

Mikleo tugs the chair opposite from Koala out from under the table and sits down, quietly considering her words for a moment before responding.]

I don't sleep often, because of what I am, but I grew up with Sorey, so I learned a lot from watching him. Sometimes he'd have nightmares, too. Sorey's someone who always wants the people around him to be happy... because of that, he used to try and dismiss it, too.

[Something about that - how Sorey is still like that even now - bothers him a little, but he shrugs it off before he can think too deeply on it. Right now it's her problems that he needs to focus on.]

Back then, I was pretty stubborn, so I pushed him to tell me about the dreams. What upset me more was that it was bothering him, and I wanted to help.

[scrubscrub]

[She can see where he's going with this, what he's trying to tell her. She shrinks a little under his words and fidgets, but she's listening regardless, even if she'd love nothing more right now than to run and go scrub the cargo bay until it sparkles. More than it already is. Nobody else can tell when she does it, but she can tell. She can!]

I... It does bother me, but.

[fidget, fidget]

I don't want to bother other people, too...

[nerdeology]

[She's so fussy about that. It's an admirable quality, and still familiar, but this isn't something he can ignore. Even if he didn't care about her - and he does - this sort of self-denial can generate malevolence, and that would be harmful to all of them. Better to nip it in the bud early on.]

Listen... I'm not a ghost. I'm actually a seraph, which is a type of spirit. Back home, a seraph's life and health is connected to the people around them- the humans offer up gifts or service, and they share their problems with the seraph, and in exchange, the seraph grants their blessing.

Rather than bothering me, it would actually help me do my job.

[It's a simplified version - he's not a guardian seraph, and he doesn't have a shrine - but it's no less the truth.]

[scrubscrub]

[... In that case -- in that case, it's only fair to give him something for his job, isn't it? It's fair to help him, even if it doesn't feel like helping, not at all. She hunkers a bit, looking closed off for a heavy moment before she finally sighs the softest sigh.]

I was dreaming about home... A-about when... When they... took me from my dad. From his boat. The day my dad died and they took me to the -- the slave auction.

[She looks down at the table, mouth a fine tremble as if she's stuck between smiling and allowing herself to frown.]

[nerdeology]

[...Well. He'd been expecting something terrible - bad dreams are never about anything good - but still, the truth is often worse than one's expectations. He'd known she was a slave, but there's plenty he doesn't know about human culture.]

I... I'm sorry for your loss. That must have been an awful thing to experience...

[scrubscrub]

Oh, it was... It was very terrible.

[She's smiling still, but her gaze is distant, and there's something significantly lost in her expression. Sad, confused. It's still, even now, hard for her to wrap her head around -- much less talk about with a frown, as is such a normal thing. No, she smiles, as if everything will collapse if she doesn't.]

But. But I am alright! I am so very fortunate compared to some others. Many l-lost their lives in very similar shoes as mine. Some are killed, too! R-really, bad dreams about the auction or--or the nobles... it's a small price when I think about what happened to others who couldn't... um... Couldn't handle everything.

I'm very lucky, yes! I shouldn't complain.

[nerdeology]

[This poor child. It reminds him a little of what they'd found in Morgause back home- the tale of children abandoned, mistreated, killed or left to die. This sort of history is one he knows could easily lead to malevolence. It's impressive that she's still able to smile and act so kindly, though now he can't help but wonder how much of the former is forced.]

Experiencing less misery than others isn't luck, Koala, it's just that- less misery. It's good that you survived, of course, but that shouldn't have happened to anyone. Yourself included. It's important to share how you truly feel about it.

[scrubscrub]

[She listens, blushing a little, because he's clearly got her read.

After a moment, she nods.]

I know. It's good to share. It's just...

It's hard to talk about it so much, when I wasn't allowed to for so long...

[nerdeology]

I can understand that. It makes sense, that it would be hard on you now, and please know that my intent isn't to force you to say what you don't want to.

Just... know that you are allowed, now. And there are people who are willing to listen to your troubles.

[scrubscrub]

... Thank you, Mr. Mikleo.

[She brightens a little, suddenly a bit comforted.]

You're a very kind and wonderful person, did you know that?

[nerdeology]

[O-oh good grief. Why did she have to go and say that?]

...I... I'm only stating the truth. And I've been told that it's the captain's duty to look after the crew, so this is natural, is it not?

[scrubscrub]

[A little giggle, as she lowers her guard a bit to be mischievous.]

You weren't captain when you made me a flower.

[nerdeology]

[..........okay fair point. But while she may be teasing, he can't help feeling sincere with his response.]

That was... my first day, you know. On the ship. Separated from everything I'd ever known, and Sorey, someone I've almost never been away from since I was a baby, was assigned somewhere else back then. I felt lost.

[Honestly, it had been a little frightening. A seraph split from one's domain, and with all the malevolence Greed brought to the ship... it wasn't a great start.]

You couldn't see me, and there'd been no indication at all that I even existed. Even so, you cleaned my room, made it welcoming for me. I wanted to thank you for that kindness.

[scrubscrub]

[She listens patiently, and by the time he's done her teasing is certainly subsiding. She wishes she knew where he was; taking to his face would be so much more sincere! But she smiles pleasantly and speaks it regardless.]

It was nothing at all! I was just so happy to be somewhere that people were kind to me, I don't even mind doing things for my crew. I-it's a bit more that it's all I know, but I didn't want you to feel like your nakama didn't care!

[nerdeology]

My... nakama?

[has he heard that one before? he doesn't think he's heard that one before.]