open audio/action

[candothat]

Who: Pavel Chekov and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: The Iskaulit or Bloodsport, if you like
When: Now

[voice]

I have a question to ask all of you, if I may--something that I have been thinking about.

[This thinking has nothing to do with the recent broadcast from the Interceptor Fleet. Nope. Not at all.]

What or where, to you, is home?

Is it a place? Is it people? Is it in the universe that you came from, or have you found a new home in your time away? If home is not here, would you return to it if you were granted the opportunity to do so?

What does home even mean?

I ask partially because I'm not certain of the answer for myself. I have thought of many different things as home: a country, a ship, a crew. There have been times, even, when I considered a single person home... but however I defined it, I was certain of it. I knew where it was, and I knew that it was where I belonged. That becomes difficult to maintain, you know, after several years in a place like this--the certainty of belonging, and the sense of home.

So I would like to know how you think of it. Maybe this question is too personal, but I hope that someone might humor me.


[action]

[In the mood for some in-person interaction? Pavel can be found in his usual haunts on the Iskaulit: in the library, jogging in the ship's more open areas, working (or drinking) at the Space Bar. Or come across him on the Bloodsport. That's where his quarters and his cat are, after all!]

Comments

voice

[sweetlies]

Home is...

[Ciel still sounds a bit young, even with having left home behind almost two years before.]

I suppose home is people now. One person, anyway. It used to be a manor, just outside of London, overseeing an entire estate and the people who lived there, and the fortune that came with it. It all feels empty now, compared to the safety and happiness I feel with people I care about.

[candothat]

I like that sentiment.

[Home is people. It's a beautiful thought, and it feels more correct than calling a house or a country home, but it isn't always applicable.]

I hope that you have that person with you here, or that you will be able to return to them.

[sweetlies]

[He's never been one to be overly sentimental or poetic but that came so easily. Maybe he has grown up a bit.]

He is, thankfully. I wouldn't be nearly so tolerable if it weren't for him.

What about you? Something must have brought this up.

[candothat]

I'm certain you would be tolerable regardless of the circumstances, [he says, wholly unfamiliar with Ciel.] but I'm glad that you have him here.

Eh... it's something that I think about often, generally without prompting. [There was a prompt this time, but mentioning the Interceptor Fleet in the open seems unwise.] Spending years in other universes has a way of calling previous concepts of 'home' into question.

[sweetlies]

[He has no idea but Ciel is smiling all the same, it carries in his voice a bit.] I appreciate that.

I've been away from England for a couple years now, but I still can't quite imagine how that feels. I can imagine it isn't easy though. I hope some of this has given you something to help, at least.

[candothat]

It is helpful, hearing that home can be so many things. [Even if none of those things are particularly applicable to him, they at least make the prospect of finding a home someday seem more likely.]

I'm sorry--I have been rude, asking questions without introducing myself. I'm Pavel Andreievich Chekov, currently of the Bloodsport.

[sweetlies]

Not at all.

[Well, maybe a little but understandably so.]

I could hardly blame you anyway, considering the subject matter. Pleased to meet you. I'm Ciel Phantomhive, I'm the cook on board the Bloodstone. Not very impressive, I'm afraid.

[candothat]

I'm pleased to meet you as well, Ciel, and being a cook is very impressive. Far more impressive than being one of three communications officers.

[sweetlies]

Do you think so? [There's a soft chuckle. He can't really see it, honestly. Anyone can cook, he thinks. Even if that is kind of a newer thought for him, having almost never stepped into a kitchen back in England.]

I imagine communications infinitely more complicated.

[candothat]

I do! I have always been impressed by anyone who can make edible food. It isn't a common skill where and when I am from.

But scanning and telemetry and hailing other ships, pff. [If this was not a strictly audio message, there would be a dismissive handwave here.] Simple, here especially.

[sweetlies]

[Oh, they're going to disagree! It's so innocuous though that it isn't worth fretting over and Ciel can't help but smile about it.] If you only knew me a year ago! I had an excellent teacher, before the augment. Until he started teaching me, I was relying on microwave meals and takeout. I wouldn't call those edible either though.

[There's a little shake of his head.] Not where I come from. Nothing like this is even dreamed of. Why, you'd be a pioneer of sorts, in England. Nobody would even know what they're looking at if they saw any of this.