A Rose by any other name...!

[thespaceopera]

Suddenly, the SS Three Twins and the SS Windrose begin to move on their own... slowly, calmly, they drift to into the same direction, away from the other ships of the fleet. Slowly, they move until they side by side.

Over the two ships' intercom, an old song begins to play. And that is all the warning there is before the engines engage -- full speed ahead.

Like a pair of rockets, the ships torpedo forward. As they move, they start circling around each other, like a synchronized dance. They move with incredible grace and skill, far more masterfully than the average pilot augment. Except, each time that they pass each other, they clearly get closer to one another.

And closer...

And closer...

No matter what buttons the crews press, no matter how much they might panic, nothing is going to stop the inevitable. On the final pass, it becomes clear there's not enough room between them to avoid a collision. Any impact alarms on the bridge are blaring at full blast. Any other ships watching will not have time to attempt any sort of interception.

CRASH!!

As if to shield spectators' eyes from the horrors of ships colliding in space, there's a blinding light upon impact -- and once it gradually fades, the results can be clearly seen by all: There is no wreckage. Nothing is broken. But where there were once two ships... now there's only one.

One ship that is looks completely new, but yet is reminiscent of both the SS Three Twins and the SS Windrose.

-----------

On the bridge, the crews of the SS Three Twins and the SS Windrose arrive, along with the usual pop! of Atroma confetti and ridiculous jingle music upon a successful shuffle. Sitting in the captain's chair is a round cake, just large enough for everyone to have one slice. There's a single candle, and the following message scribbled on top in yellow icing:

"Congratulations - SS Twin Roses!
Happy Fusion!"




... What, did you think you were going to die? Sorry about that.

Comments

[late af action]

[ecclesiophobic]

[Kurt was sleeping when the engines accelerating woke him. He has enough time to pull on shorts for decency and teleport just before the ships collide. He is very, very fortunate that when he reappears on the bridge, all he does is smack his head against a console.

Swearing under his breath in German, Kurt walks over to crouch by Kitty, irritably rubbing at his head.] Alright, Katzchen?

[passingthrough]

Asks the man who just hit his head. I'm fine. But if you were wondering if the Atroma would let me try to phase the whole ship [at least under these circumstances] the answer is no.

[ecclesiophobic]

[Kurt's scowl deepens, not nearly enough to hide the worry in his eyes.] What happened when you tried? Are you certain you're feeling alright? [Tired Kurt is a mother hen.]

[passingthrough]

I'm really fine, not brave facing it fine. It just wasn't taking effect at all. I didn't strain much in the trying. [It would have been extremely hard on her if she'd succeeded. Maybe too hard.] Are you okay?

[ecclesiophobic]

[Kurt watches her face as she explains what happened, slowly nodding when nothing in her expression or body language seems to convey pain.] Better than I deserve to be, after that stunt. Do me a favor and let's not mention that to your boyfriend?

[passingthrough]

[She looks confused with a small but growing edge of suspicion.] Why shouldn't Winn know? [Why would it have even come up?]

[ecclesiophobic]

I made the mistake of telling him that rapid teleports take a lot out of me and now the man thinks he's my mother. [And, also, chest pains after teleporting multiple times through a dimensional portal, but without that irresistible urge to include that tidbit, Kurt's keeping it to himself.] Is that normal for him?

[passingthrough]

To worry about people he cares about and who are important to me? Is this a real question? Unless you mean he's actually acting like Mystique in which case we need an intervention.

[ecclesiophobic]

Ja, Kitty, he's strapped himself into obscene amounts of buckles and leather and has started shooting everything that moves. [Is the sarcasm thick enough to walk on, yet?]

[passingthrough]

What level of wrong are we at if that sounds kind of hot?

[ecclesiophobic]

[Kurt shrugs.] Wouldn't be the first time one of my friends wanted to fuck my mother.

[How he manages to keep a straight face is a minor miracle. Possibly because it's true.]

[passingthrough]

Hey, I was still picturing Winn! Thanks for ruining this full ship penetration day for me. [oh god, what is she saying? Too far even for her.]

[ecclesiophobic]

[And here comes the cackling; it's either concede and let Kitty have this win, or fire back with the only retort he can think of and doom Winn to the space equivalent of the couch.]

I live to serve.

[passingthrough]

Mmmhmm. [No idea she and Winn just dodged a bullet.] So, how are you feeling about all of [waves hand at the changed ship and everything] this.

[ecclesiophobic]

[Kurt tilts his face toward the rest of the crew, watching them mingle and converse (or argue.)

When he speaks it's in German, and his voice is low.] The only ones I know are ours, for better or worse. I haven't a clue who these new people are or what they can do. You?

[passingthrough]

[She matches his language and volume, thought she doubts it's necessary. Still, she understands where he's coming from.] Ravi's a friend. He's a doctor with a cooking augment. [She glances in his direction.] I don't know Anders well, but we get along. Vash is...interesting. When I arrived he asked all the women of the fleet on a dinner date. I went of course. Can't just pass up free food. He seemed like a joke. During the attack Ravi told me he was adamant that the crew not hurt the raiders and later he gave me some thoughtful information he'd gathered about previous attacks. I don't know the other two at all.

[ecclesiophobic]

A pacifist on this ship.

[Except it isn't their ship, not anymore. The Windrose is gone, and all the ghosts of memory potentially banished in the wake of unfamiliarity. A very childish feeling part of him wants to rage against the unfairness of it all, but when has anything been fair?]

Suppose you'll be going and making friends, then? You have a better track record at it here.

[passingthrough]

[She doesn't like it either. There was a comfort and a familiarity to the ship and the crew. It may still be a few days before she fully comes to understand what that meant to her and how much it hurts to lose it. To rebuild. She'll probably be thinking more than ever that maybe she should transfer to the Tourist, but with them at capacity and knowing how much she'd want Kurt to come along too that it's enough of an obstacle to slow her down if not stop her.]

You make it sound like a spy thing. [Especially in hushed German tones. She does want to meet them and get to know them.]