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Who: Ochako & OTA
Broadcast: Yes!
Action: SS Starstruck
When: At the start of January

[For once, Ochako's not using voice or video, bursting with energy; instead it's a simple text entry, no fluff or even an emoticon.]

does anybody have something happy they're willing to share

like, something good that happened to them, or a nice story

it's the new year, right? i wanna start fresh with good things.

[Ochako's sort of taking over the Starstruck kitchen, and making a bit of a mess of it, though unintentionally- she's all out of sorts, things are floating when she doesn't want them to, and her attempts at making something as simple as cake batter are not going as planned. Crewmates might have noticed that she's been quieter than usual since after Christmas, and it's apparently hit a breaking point.]

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There is no shortage of happy music, trust me. Let me bring it over. You're on the Starstruck, right?

yeah

it's kind of a mess right now, um. sorry in advance

Hey, I won't tell the captain if you won't.

[Not that he thinks it's very likely that much is getting past Peggy. Regardless, he's in a shuttle and heading over after a few minutes, and barring Ochako waiting for him in the cargo bay goes ahead and makes his way up to the kitchen - the place most likely to be kind of a mess, he imagines.]

[It's... definitely a mess, yes. Ochako's gotten most of the floaty stuff under control at last, but there's scars of the battle left all over the place; puffs of flour on the floor and on the counter, a pile of dishes waiting to be washed, and even a smear of batter across the ceiling. Don't ask.

Ochako herself is seated at the table, listlessly stirring a bowl of cake mix and looking pretty pitiful.]

[Wow. Eugene pauses in the doorway, hitching his bag up on his shoulder with the hand not operating his crutch. The look on Ochako's face says most of it, but there's definitely a contribution from the ambiance of the room. He checks the floor for slippage hazards before stepping over, curbing the instinct to ask if she's all right. The answer to that one is pretty obvious.]

Bad day? [It's the mildest opening he can offer, taking a seat across from her with a sympathetic look.]

[She sniffs awkwardly and pokes at the mix; it's lumpy and a little discoloured, like the flavour mix hadn't come out right.]

I just wanted to make a cake...

Oh, man.

[That . . . is an extremely sad-looking bowl of cake batter. Eugene shuffles around in his bag until he finds what he's looking for: a slightly scuffed iPod classic, clickwheel and everything, earbuds tucked alongside it in a loose coil. He puts the iPod on the table between them and uncoils the earbuds slowly, like he can find words that feel like they fit somewhere between one dingy off-white loop and the next.]

Yeah, cake gets tricky. Maybe we can give it another shot after a few tunes like I promised.

[She sighs listlessly, defeated, and pushes the bowl away from herself so she can cross her arms and rest her head on them, leaning against the table. She watches him set up, her gaze low.]

Okay...

[Yikes, and here he thought she'd at least be curious about the music player if she didn't recgnize it already. Looks like it's time to bring out the the heavy ordnance.]

Here. I think I've got just the thing.

[Eugene turns the device on, gently click-clicks through a few songs, and settles on one of the most stubbornly feel-good ones he can find. The earbuds he hands over one at a time, waits until she has them situated, and then pushes play.]

[She listens quietly for a good chunk of the song, not reacting much at first, but gradually warming up to it. Does the augment auto-translate music? Well, whether it does or not, she likes the sound of it. Finally she tugs off one bud, glancing over.]

It's catchy... is this from your home?

[It takes a little while, but she perks up the tiniest bit, and Eugene releases a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.]

Yeah. It's a few decades old now, but the classics never really go out of style.

[Already he's looking up the next song that comes to mind, leaving it ready to play after the current track is finished, though he fiddles with the device for a few unnecessary seconds before glancing looking up at her.]

Do you . . . want to talk about it?

[She fidgets in her chair, her fingers toying with the loose earbud. Finally her shoulders lift in a slight shrug.]

It was my birthday last week... my first one away from home.

Oh no.

[He gives a sympathetic wince, entirely earnest. Birthdays away from everything you knew were bad enough as a full-grown adult. At an age when birthdays are still sort of exciting?]

That's rough. How old are you now?

Sixteen, now.

[It's not exactly sweet, is it.]

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