somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Friday Evening [03/11].

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MHA #4; Friday Evening [03/11].

There had been talk, earlier that week, of space booze that Summer had not tried yet, and that was always something to be excited about. Plus, this particular space booze also came with a recently returned friend from which to potentially pry all sorts of hot gos and space deets from in the meantime. If she was entirely honest, she had kind of hoped that maybe Stark would seem better when he got back...and he did, for sure, but she was hoping for something...more better? She didn't know, she just knew that it was good he was back, and that it seemed he was taking the steps toward recovery or whatever and blah blah blah, he was just kind of doing it at a snail's pace, but she also had to remind herself that her pace was basically breakneck and faster than the speed of light with these things, so...you know...

To each their own.

But she was getting space booze out of it, and to make up for that, Stark would also get snacks, both sweet, savory, and gelatin (adjacent). And if he didn't show up? Well. She'd make leftover rounds tomorrow, or something. She did not think it would be hard to find people to shove extra food at.

[[ expecting a sad alien at some point, but also definitely open if anyone else wants to swing by or get in touch! ]]

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"Are we talking worse places like the space jail cell worse places?" asked Summer, sitting easily with a leg tucked underneath her, and the two glasses in one hand so she could pat the couch as an invitation for Stark to sit (which felt like a given, obviously, but sometimes, she felt like you kind of had to be specific with Stark).

Sometimes you did need to be specific with Stark. Especially when he was deep in 'maybe nobody actually wants me around' feelings. Luckily those weren't too overwhelming, today.

"Yes," he said with a little nod as he sat. "That cell. Other cells. Moya was a prison ship, once. Not her fault. But none of her rooms feel like cells anymore. Her floors are fine."

And now Summer held out the two glasses between them, so that Stark could have the honors of doing the pouring.

"Soooo," she asked, "is Moya, like, the ship you were on, then? With all your friends from back home?"

"She is," Stark confirmed, pouring what was possibly an unwise amount of the blue liquid into Summer's glass and then his own. "She's a Leviathan. They're living ships. Bio-mechanoid. She's where I lived, before. After I was free."

"Crichton and Aeryn and Chiana are still there. And Pilot. He has to be."

"Ohhhh, it's blue!" Summer enthused, eyes sparking with excitement as she watched Stark pouring to exactly meet her whole reason for choosing these glasses in particular. "Oh, I definitely have to see what I can do with jello and this one, this could be a lot of fun to work with!"

And once it was poured, she held up the glass to swirl it around carefully like it was a wine or something, to get an idea of its clarity, viscosity, whatever, before pulling it closer and trying to get a good grasp of the nose of it all.

Look, she was more than a bartender, okay? She was an artiste.

She wasn't sure she wanted to comment too much on living ships, what with her whole history there, but she could at least venture with a simple, "And...Aeryn is the one with the baby? Who there's also been versions of here? Annnnnnd Chiana's the one with floor who also got you da-ruuunk."

Just to make sure she got all the various players in order before she found out how much this stuff was going to manage to get that all mixed up again.

"Aeryn and Crichton had the baby. Deke," Stark confirmed, taking a sip of his own. "Chiana came to visit here. In the fall." When he'd gotten into the barfight but he wasn't going to go there because that would lead nowhere good.

"She's grey. Nebari. Aeryn looks like a human, Crichton is. And Rygel was there, but now he's back on his throne. He's Hynerian. Small and green. And Jothee was there, but he left before I did." Otherwise there would have been no space hookup. "And Noranti is still there. Old woman with three eyes."

"That is...a looooot of names I am almost guaranteed to forget if this stuff is even remotely any good, Stark," Summer warned him with a grin, before lifted her glass and finally taking a sip. Got distracted a moment with considering the taste, before realizing that, clearly, she needed to have much more than a sip if she was going to make any sort of judgement in that regard. "But I don't think I remember meeting anyone who might have visited in the fall. That was probably while I was still in space with my space mom, and the last Galactic Empire..."

"You don't need to remember them," Stark said. Well. Chiana's name might come up again. "Unless you plan on taking a trip. You shouldn't." Every time he went back he ended up locked up. "It's not...I wouldn't recommend it."

"I think you'd remember if you met Chiana." Chiana was memorable even if you hadn't stumbled into a friends-with-benefits situation. That was a much larger sip of his drink he was taking now. For no particular reason.

"I mean," said Summer, "I don't know. I do like going to different dimensions of space to see how fucked up shit is. And," she snorted a laugh with a swig, "there are a....lot of things I would happily do that you probably wouldn't recommend. Space jails and coup and former prison ships that are living beings? Kinda sounds right up my alley, you know?"

"Moya is a good place to be. She was just as much a prisoner as Zhaan and D'Argo and Rygel. Visiting Moya is fine. It's everything not on board Moya that goes poorly. Or maybe it's just me. I always end up in a cell. Every time. And I think...I think Rygel may hold on to his throne this time. Hopefully not another coup."

They'd broken 2 empires and repaired another it was really time to take a break from that sort of activity.

"None of us died, at least. This time."

"I'm very glad that none of you died this time," said Summer, giving Stark an encouraging grin, because you know what? Sometimes, you just had to hear that someone was glad you didn't die. She felt that. On, like, a super deep level. "Especially you. And not just because if you had died, I wouldn't be drinking this seriously awesome space booze right now.

"And I think....I would like to visit sometime. It sounds super interesting, and I'd like to see where it is you're, like, coming from, you know? Even if we do end up in a cell. Wouldn't be my first time!"

"Rygel's cousin was going to have us publicly executed," Stark pointed out, voice very mild. "But he shouldn't be a problem now. Hyneria is supposed to be something of a safe haven for all of us, now."

"And...you probably would like it. You'd get along with Chiana, I think. And Crichton. Maybe Aeryn." They could talk about weaponry and generally being badass.

"But try to stay out of the cells."

"....are they really that bad?" Summer had to wonder. "Do they have, like, sarlac pits on the floor or spikes on all the surfaces or...ugh...tentacles involved some how?"

There was a sip.

"Is it weird," yes, Summer, if you had to preface it with that, it probably was very weird, "that I want to know how you guys were going to be publicly executed?"

She was just trying to build the story here!

And potentially prepare for future such attempted public executions!

"I spent two years in the Gammak Base cell, Summer. It didn't need tentacles. Or spikes. It was just a small room with a locked door with people on the other side who thought I was a science experiment. And before that it was Scarran cells."

Careful, Summer, or you'd end up with a crash course in why Stark is Like That.

"Bishan didn't give details. Probably something painful. But it didn't happen. We're all still fine. For now."

Well. Fine might be a bit of a stretch. Stark was slowly edging closer to fine though. He was trying.

Oh, right, like it would really kill him to let someone in on why he was Like That, anyway.

And who knew? Maybe he'd get it right back and get a little insight on why Summer was Like This.

But for now, she just sort of hummed discontentedly into her cup. "I feel like if someone's going to go and make a public spectacle out of your execution," she mused, "they should at least tell you how they're going to do it. That's, like, just common courtesy."

"The Tavleks told me right before," Stark offered.

"I got better," he added after taking another drink. "And it wasn't really public. Just everyone from the ship."

"I guess that's public enough," Summer allowed, feeling a little too much of this space booze right now to bother with quibbling too</i much on what constituted as a public execution or not. "And, you know, it just goes to show you...things can get pretty bad, but, hey, as long as you keep getting better, as long as you're all <i>fine</i>, that's what <i>really</i> counts, right?"

"I wasn't really fine." He had come back significantly more prone to losing his shit, for one thing.

"But I wasn't dead. And Zhaan was there. Don't want to repeat the experience though. Ever. I prefer not being executed. Even if it doesn't take."

"Hey," Summer lifted up her free hand, "I'm using your words. You're the one who said you were all still fine, unless I'm getting what we're talking about mixed up with something else, in which case, that's on you for not being more clear."

She took the kind of drink that made her wonder why she didn't get bigger glasses.

"And why do you always do that, anyway?" she found herself asking as she considered what was left in these honestly clearly too small glasses. "I try to be, like, positive or whatever, and you just contradict me. You're all, 'he was going to publicaly execute us,' and then it's all, 'oh, well, it wasn't really public.' And then you're all 'we're all fine now,' and then 'but I wasn't really fine'...liiiiiiike...?"

She killed the last of the drink, held out her cup for more.

"Pretty sure most people prefer not being executed, too, dude."

"Two different executions," Stark clarified with a sigh before refilling the glass.

"Sorry. You're right. This time nobody died. Last time I was...I got dispersed. But I got better." He tapped his mask. "Because I'm me. That was before I was here. This time we were all fine. I'm... mostly fine."

Summer rolled her eyes just a little, before fixing them onto Stark with a look that suggested that....naw, man. Mostly fine wasn't going to cut it.

"Don't you ever just get tired, my dude," she asked, taking a new sip of her fresh glass, "of constantly cockblocking your own happiness?"

"That's not..." Stark frowned, shook his head, and took a sip from his own glass. "Is that what I'm doing? I just meant...I don't know what I meant."

"I'm better than I was," he added quietly.

"Ex-aaaactly," said Summer. "You're better than you were. Full stop. No...wishy-washy mostly added to it, or...I don't know, trying to footnote it with the fact that you're still not one-hundo-P, or something. You know? Like....yes, you're better. Focus on that. Celebrate that. Because that's a lot."

She took a big gulp because she knew she was going to sort of go off on this next bit a little.

"Like....I always get the impression that you are constantly looking back at what's happened and using that as your margin of, like, happiness or success or even just your mood or whatever, instead of just....looking at the the here and now. Looking forward. Like, dude, you managed to get out space jail and avoid being executed...again!...and came back all in one piece and with awesome space booze. And instead of being all, 'fuck yeah! I did it!', you're all...I don't even know what, dude. Mopey about it? Still? Like, is this really how you want to spend your life? Being mopey about shit that happened in the past that you can't change instead of just looking forward to the things that might happen in the future? Or even just appreciating the things happening in the here and now, like not being dead and enjoying awesome space booze with awesome people?"

"I can't just change who I am, Summer!"

If he could, Stark's life would be so much easier.

"I don't want to be unhappy. I was happy. I liked being happy. It's nothing something I've had often." Twice. He'd been happy for 2 periods in his life, really. "It's hard. There's so much that's happened and there's always more of it and there isn't anything to look forward to now but there was and I'm just trying to get back to being content with things."

He shook his head, refilled his glass, and took another long drink from it before continuing.

"I feel like I never say any of this right to you. This is good. Sitting here with you is good. Bringing you something new to try is good. Being back here is good. And parts of being back there were good, once we weren't having a crisis. It's just... everything is still hard. Even when some of it is good."

"You would get along with Chiana," he added. "She was determined to get me to stop moping too."

"Did you make it as hard for her as you do for me, too?" Summer wondered with a derisive snort into her glass. "Because, yeah, Stark, it's hard. Of course it's hard, everything's hard, existence is pain, and then you die and none of it even means anything anyway. The only that that might even come close to mattering is what you do with it in the meantime. Do you just let yourself wallow in it like a sad sack, or do you wrangle it into submission and make that pain your bitch?"

She shrugged, took a pointed sip.

"I know which one I prefer.

"Also," she added, "it drives me nuts how you act like nothing good is ever going to happen again, and in the next breath, actually list off shit that is good. Like, what the fuck? Which one is it, Stark?"

Edited 2022-03-12 13:27 (UTC)

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