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Little Space [Act One Complete: The Skippers and the Burning Sky/Act Two Soon!]


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Chapter 5

 

For every ten thousand of us, there was only a single one of them, but it might have been a million to one for all it mattered, because they simply wanted to live more than we did and they proved it in everything they did.

- GySgt. Madison Marshall, Memoir.

***

 

Where does one find a cherry-headed asymmetrically inclined bombshell of a childhood memory on a station this size? Where was I even going to start? How was I going to find her? Lilt may have been in her quarters, but I didn’t know where she’d have been assigned them, or if she was even here long enough to have her own. She could have been on the promenade, but I hadn’t the slightest idea what she’d be there for, and the promenade ran almost the entire length of the station. She could have had a duty posting, but I had no idea who to ask about that because she was from another vessel. I had to know why she was looking for me, though, because I didn’t know when she was leaving.

At the end of my search in my head and before I even began the search with my body, I found Lilt in the place I knew that I logically would: at the pool.

She met with the edge of the pool when she saw me, the way I had when I’d seen her, and I couldn’t help but see the parallel. The difference was that when I’d gotten out of the water to greet her, I’d been glistening and underdeveloped, dripping water unevenly and awkwardly on the floor between my toes, like an inelegant child. When Lilt pulled herself from the pool, every drop of water raced along her skin, chasing one another over bony hips and skin pulled taut over her lean and toned form. Where I was cute, angelic, dollish, and child-like, Lilt was everything antithetical to me: she was elegant, she was refined, she was a punk rocker from the days of yore and a waifish model all rolled into one, accentuated by more metal in her navel and just above one hip.

I’d been planned for function, Lilt had crafted her body in pursuit of form.

In short, she was beautiful. And it was hard not to stare.

“You came in on another vessel,” I semi-accused her, “why didn’t you say so?” I had my cheeks puffed in entitlement when I asked her the question, as though the very action of asking it held her to a strict requirement to answer. I got this way when I was annoyed; I wore petulance like Lilt wore nonconformity - beautifully and naturally. She smiled, leaned down, and booped my nose with the wet tip of her finger.

You never asked, Skipper.” I scrunched up my nose and puffed out my cheeks in response, like the energy of her touch had triggered some kind of allergic reaction. “Besides which,” she continued, “shouldn’t you have known that? Don’t Skippers know everything?”

Obviously we don’t.” I grumbled, looking away from her and down, because she’d clearly caught me at a disadvantage. Why was she making me feel this way? What gave her that right? “I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, it’s whatever, I just wanted to make sure you got back to your…ship?” I studied her reaction, then sputtered a correction: “I mean station. Station, right? You’re from another station? I mean I just wanted to make sure you got back safe.”

She looked at me, stepped out of the pooling water at her feet with a smirk, and began to walk away.

“Where are you going? Don’t you walk away from me, Lilt!” How had this been the girl that had freaked out over my limb malfunction? She was so peppy and fangirly earlier, and then she was so oblivious, and now she was so… she was so…

“You’re not cool, Lilt! You’re… you’re inconsistent! You’re inconsistent, and inconsiderate! Inconsiderately inconsistent, that’s what you are!”

“And you’re a brat,” she countered, “who thinks that nobody else but her has the right to be a Skipper.”

“So! So what?” I was following up behind her, my little legs plenty athletic enough to keep up, but my gait a little bit wobbled and waddly by comparison; just a reflection on my proportions more than anything else. “So what if I don’t think you should be a Skipper. You weren’t even honest with me about where you were from, and Skippers don’t lie so whatever.”

“But you just lied?” She stopped for that, with her arms crossed over her bikini top and a bemused smile, “You just lied right now, because Skippers lie all the time. Half of what the program is about is lying, Cadence. Oh, sorry, what was the term? Controlling the Flow of Information?”

Why was she being so… so… impossible?

“You’re not here to be a Skipper, are you, Lilt?”

“I am not.” Contrary to our first meeting, she was now the calm and collected one, and I was the one freaking out.

“I should report you to Skipper Command…” I mumbled.

“You mean the same Skipper Command that directed you to interview me, Cadence? It’s almost like they know who I am, why I’m here, and wanted you to meet me.”

“Don’t even act that way, I saw the way you reacted when my…” I gestured to my arm discretely, because taking about this in public was a pretty severe faux pas to begin with, “you know. And you didn’t know anything about being a Skipper, you didn’t know anything about me. So just stop, alright? Stop with your games, with your… your cute fricking smile, stop looking so hot, and stop acting like you know anything okay because you don’t!”

“You think I’m hot, Cadence?”

“Stop with that smile!” I stomped my foot, and she laughed brighter than the color of her hair.

“I said that Skipper Command knew about me. I didn’t say I knew anything about Skippers. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, and I’m sorry that I did. Nobody warned me about… that being possible. I was going to come back to your quarters and explain things, but figured you needed a little time after that happened to do… whatever it is Skippers do.”

She was so infuriating.

“If you don’t know anything about Skippers, then why are you even here? Am I being redeployed? Is that what this is about? Because this station needs me, Lilt, I’m the best Skip-“  She put her finger to my lips and stole my voice with a gentle gesture mirrored on her own.

“Discretion is the greater part of valor, Cadence. Let’s talk, alright? Somewhere that maybe isn’t the most socially active place on your station. Controlling the Flow of Information, that’s right, isn’t it?” Yeah, it was. But I couldn’t even nod. “Let me buy you a coffee.”

“Skippers aren’t allowed coffee.” I mumbled, “but Blackcurrant Tea sounds nice…” Lilt laughed one bright laugh, putting her arm around my shoulder, leaving cold wet residue on my skin that tingled and fizzled on my nerves like it was dancing through every single pore and fiber of my body. The warmth of her touch itself only added an electric charge to the wetness, like every bit of skin was irritated, but that every itch joined out and held hands and left only a very not-unpleasant buzz across the surface that shivered down into my core.

“No more lying to me, Lilt.” I said, quietly, as though I could focus on ultimatums right now.

“Only truthing, I promise.” Was her reply, as though that was even a word. She was so dumb.

“Who are you?” It was such a simple question.

“You know who I am.” And a useless answer.

“I meant why are you here?” Something I longed to actually know.

“Let’s get to the promenade first.” She was smug in an entirely different manner to the way that Perry was, and it made me feel things that were completely and utterly different as well.

Actually. It made me feel like I didn’t know how to feel.

I didn’t want to tell her no, I didn’t want to tell her I couldn’t come with her because I had to do something first, I didn’t want to take her hand off my shoulder, I didn’t want to be apart from her for reasons I could never have explained. This level of attachment wasn’t my normal response to someone, especially not someone I’d been so quick to dismiss earlier in the day - like most Skippers, I went out of my way to not get attached to people. But she spoke to me, not across to me, not down to me, not up at me. She spoke to me, and my perfectly binary rhythm in my chest dictated that my ears listen.

I think even without the water on my skin, she could have had me feeling so as electric. That electricity thrumming didn’t nullify my need to handle an obligation before I could take her up on her offer of tea and knowledge, of warmth, of companionship and exposition, though.

“I need to check in with my Handler before I can come to the promenade, maybe I could just meet you there?” I suggested, not being at all truthful to the woman I’d just demanded no more lies from.

“Your Handler, Cadence?” Her tone said curious, but her smile said tease.

“My SpecTech,” I frowned and clarified, “he’s going to be worried if I don’t check in.”

“Well, if you say so. But don’t keep me waiting, alright? Blackcurrant Tea with milk, right?”

“No milk. I like my tea bitter, like I am.” I think the brightness of her laugh distracted me enough from the fact she was mocking me with it, and I stuck my tongue out at her, one part of me in body and in gesture that would always be human.

Lilt went ahead to the stairwell and I waited for the door to click shut with a heavy clunk. Then I exhaled. I had to get back to my room. Because it had been a long day. And my diaper was very, very, wet.

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This is so interesting I'm wondering what the significance of a rendezvous is beyond the obvious. I'm kind of surprised out how emotionally cadence is reacting. There's something going on with this.

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1 hour ago, Pudding said:

You’re not cool, Lilt! You’re… you’re inconsistent! You’re inconsistent, and inconsiderate! Inconsiderately inconsistent, that’s what you are!”

Love that line! ♡ Although Cadence's bratiness is especially on point this chapter. ?

Also I'm gonna make a prediction (and having read through chapter 9 doesn't help this claim much): Lilt is actually a disguised Cadence from the future who time-traveled back to make sure Cadence would save the world!

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21 hours ago, Pudding said:

I sat, fuming and ruminating on all the ways I wanted to inflict minor annoyance and inconvenience on this man - I would put exactly one pebble in every one of his left shoes! I would gently crease his note paper! I would… I would swap out his blue pens for black ones, and swap his toilet paper roll from back facing to front facing, and I’d put his newer teabags in front of his older ones so in two weeks all his tea would be minorly stale and he wouldn’t even know why. I was that cross.

XD oh my goodness.

21 hours ago, Pudding said:

She pressed something inside my arm and initiated the reaffirmation sequence that immediately made my skin light up like a Christmas tree. It was like every single nerve in every single part of my body sparkled and tingled, firing like a billion supernovas, recalibrating in preparation to accept the appendage back into place.

I love this visual.

21 hours ago, Pudding said:

“This work makes sense to me, Cadie. You come in and I put your arm back on, or I fix a stubborn knee joint, I recalibrate a drive sensor, I block a faulty nerve. I see results here. And that makes me feel like what I’m doing matters.”

I really love Perry, and I love your casually fleshing her out.

Okay on to chapter 5.

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3 hours ago, Pudding said:

For every ten thousand of us, there was only a single one of them, but it might have been a million to one for all it mattered, because they simply wanted to live more than we did and they proved it in everything the did.

VERY interesting.  Usually in wars you have a huge team fighting a huge team.  But this implies that their "army" is rather small.  It means beating them might be achievable if they can learn a weakness or something.  And I still don't even know who "they" is!!

3 hours ago, Pudding said:

Where does one find a cherry-headed asymmetrically inclined bombshell of a childhood memory, on a station this size?

(Drop the comma)

This is the best way to open a chapter I have ever seen. XD

3 hours ago, Pudding said:

“I am not.” Contrary to our first meeting, she was now the calm and collected one, and I was the one freaking out.

Welp.. I didn't expect that.  Honestly, I'm sort of glad?  We are learning about Skippers through Cadence and I really don't care about Lilt becoming one.

3 hours ago, Pudding said:

But she spoke to me, not across to me, not down to me, not up at me. She spoke to me, and my perfectly binary rhythm in my chest dictated that my ears listen.

I love the slight dolly robot tinge of thinking that you put into Cadence's internal thought.  You did this earlier with "fiber of my being".  

Excited for 6. ^_^ 

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5 hours ago, Pudding said:

proved it in everything the did.

they

5 hours ago, Pudding said:

Where does one find a cherry-headed asymmetrically inclined bombshell of a childhood memory

what a great description! "asymmetrically inclined"!

5 hours ago, Pudding said:

Where I was cute, angelic, dollish, and child-like, Lilt was everything antithetical to me: she was elegant, she was refined, she was a punk rocker from the days of yore and a waifish model all rolled into one, accentuated by more metal in her navel and just above one hip.

Lilt is hawt.

5 hours ago, Pudding said:

“Skippers aren’t allowed coffee.”

I'm wondering why this should be a rule.

5 hours ago, Pudding said:

But she spoke to me, not across to me, not down to me, not up at me. She spoke to me, and my perfectly binary rhythm in my chest dictated that my ears listen.

That is so important! I imagine that, especially because Skippers look so young, this would be something that makes all the difference in the world.

5 hours ago, Pudding said:

And my diaper was very, very, wet.

You finally said it outright. Nice planning: for those who knew, it's a perfectly timed confirmation, and for those who did not it is a marvelous little cliff-hanger.

 

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2 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

VERY interesting.  Usually in wars you have a huge team fighting a huge team.  But this implies that their "army" is rather small.  It means beating them might be achievable if they can learn a weakness or something.  And I still don't even know who "they" is!!

It's very Ender's Game to me

 

31 minutes ago, kerry said:

Lilt is hawt.

Lilt is SO HOT.

 

I'm shipping Cadence and Lilt, not Cadence and Perry.  I love this story <3

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Okay first of all thank you so much for the support and feedback, the reception has been so encouraging! I know that this isn't the usual fare here on DD, but from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for giving my writing a chance.

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Chapter 6

 

It isn’t aware of its surroundings, it can’t feel pain, it can’t process any sensory information. It’s asleep, and we have all the time we need. Save your sympathy for the living, there’s so few of us left and we could use a little thought.

-Dr. Carmine Cassidy [Source Redacted]

***

 

There was something I didn’t understand about Lilt Jackson. Actually, there was a lot I didn’t understand about her, but the foremost thing I was having trouble wrapping my head around was… how had she become so beautiful? We used coolant tanks for recreation, our food during the years predating the successful solar farming of hydroponics had been a protein grown and fed on discarded human skin cells, and an infected wound more often than not meant a death sentence. We didn’t live in those early days, we survived.

And things hadn’t really improved all that much since then, if I was thinking honestly.

I was well educated. I wasn’t stupid, and even though my social skills were a little on the lacking side, I understood the concept of gender identity, the importance of defying the crippling results of bodily dysphoria; the misalignment of body and mind was something Skippers were well acquainted with. None of that helped me to understand the very core question here, though: a medical process like that was something that required approval well above Lilt’s station in life, so who approved it, and why was Lilt important enough? I was feeling overwhelmed by thought and the space between my eyes and my ears ached.

Thinking is an obstacle to feeling.

There was too much focus on thinking, and I should have been feeling - that was Skipper Creed. I indulged the sensation of the bed beneath my thighs, felt every thread in the weave of the sheets and traced the interactions of the fibers as they pulled and tensed on one another at a scale too small to see. I didn’t need to see when I could feel. My fingertips pulled over my sheets and up the edges of my legs, soft pliable skin that prickled and sensed the flow of the ventilation system, pores that opened and closed the way crushed velvet changed color at the touch. Sensation was so important. Feel was everything.

I pulled on the snaps of my uniform between my legs and let my thoughts pull away from me the same way the fabric did.

There was a lot to do today, and Laurent wasn’t answering the comm.

***

 

“Do you remember eating meat?” Lilt conducted her words as though her fork was a baton and her syllables made up a symphony.

“I never did, actually,” which seemed foolish now in retrospect, “I was an idealistic kid, Lilt. We grew blackcurrants and I remember thinking about how selfish it would have to be to take another animal's life when I could eat berries from the moment I woke up until the moment I went to sleep, every day from the moment I was born until the day I died, and we’d still have enough to spare.”

“Child Cadence didn’t really understand economics, huh?” Lilt wore eyeliner that softened the crinkling in the edges of her eyes when she smiled, and her lids were colored in blended blues and silvers that could have made the sky look artificial by comparison.

Back before the sky was fire, that was. I missed that sky, and Lilt’s eyes were not a bad alternative to get lost in.

“Do you?” I could feel the way she looked at me as obviously and as clearly as I could feel when the station moved, or when my Faering was targeted. That’s how I felt, actually, when she looked at me: like she’d gotten a lock on me. It was an unusual sensation to have outside of a Faering. “Remember eating meat, I mean.” I mumbled to myself, wondering what the civilian version of an evasive tuck and roll could have been.

Lilt pondered the question over a mouthful of greens and tomatoes, then pointedly waved her fork.

“I do remember it, but I remember it the way you remember reading a book, not the way you remember your first kiss.” First kiss? Well, that wasn’t a point of comparison I had to make, “I remember it, but I don’t remember feeling it. Knowledge, not experience. Thought, not feeling.”

“The Skippers Creed, huh? You sure do know a bunch about us, Lilt. And isn’t that what we’re here to talk about?” I didn’t mean to be pointed, but her mystery was growing into a negative feeling for me. Luckily, conversations could be piloted, too, not just conducted. “Who do you work for, Lilt Jackson?” I sipped my drink and peered at her over the rim of the little teacup.

“Well,” she set her fork down, “you can think of me as a… recruiter, I suppose. A talent scout.”

“Then you’re wasting your time, because I’m already a Skipper and it’s kind of a possessive club to be a part of.” I nodded to the ball joint in my elbow, raising an eyebrow. She had to know that, though, which meant… “Unless you’re looking for a Skipper.”

“Unless I’m looking for a Skipper,” she echoed, her lips speckled with a little bit of dressing from her meal, things I couldn’t help but notice, “if I were looking for a Skipper, why would I be asking for you by name, I wonder?”

“Because you knew me as a kid?” I tilted my head, curiously watching her expression as she broke out in a laugh, bright and crisp like her meal.

“That’s not a bad guess, Cadence, and I can’t deny that it’s a perk to your recruitment. But if mankind could get by on goodwill and happy happenstance, then our peace accords would have led to our salvation and not our destruction.” Lilt Jackson, how dare you drop such unlicensed poetry. “Try again.”

“Because I have the best Run Record on the station, because my Sensation Report is always above ave-“ Her hand waved and her head shook and she silenced my guessing.

“Try again.”

“I don’t know.” I huffed a little bit, pouting.

“Maybe I don’t know, either,” She pondered, “or maybe someone I work for does and they seem to think that you’re the Skipper we need.”

“So why the charade? Why the lying? The fangirling, the pretense? Laurent knew who you were and-“

“Why do you think that?” She interrupted. I was beginning to dislike when she did that!

“Because he gave me the order to meet with you.”

“Gave?” Curious smile. She could definitely pull off cute better than most women her age.

“Relayed?”

“Relayed.”

“Okay, relayed. So?” So… “So he thought you were actually looking to be a Skipper? Because…” I worked through it in my head. “Because he only knew what Skipper Command was telling him.”

“And Skipper Command only knows what my employers tell them.”

“You’re telling me that your employers,” I made air quotes, “are above the authority of Skipper Command?” She nodded. “And you expect me to believe that?” Another nod. “Without any proof at all?” A third nod rounded out the Trilogy of Lilt.

Somehow, at the end of all of that, she’d managed to avoid answering my question, too - why the theatrics? Well, she wasn’t getting off that easily.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why the games, Lilt?” I wasn’t letting this one go.

“I needed to make sure you responded within parameters.” She explained, like that was the simplest response in the entire world.

“What’s that even mean?” I was out of tea, but had plenty of bitterness left in me to make up for that.

“I’m a relic from your past, and I’m not how you remember me, Cadence. I needed to make sure and measure your responses to that kind of stimuli, if you’re going to be of any use to us at all.”

A game, is that what this was? A test? My life was schedules and logs and testing and routine, paperwork and process and administration. I didn’t need some woman from another station taking over my living complication of an existence and making it even worse.

“I’ll pass. This station needs me, and we haven’t had a new Skipper in three years, so you might want to look elsewhere.” I crossed my arms over my chest, over the neat little yellow sundress I was wearing since I’d gotten changed, and my fingernails traced the paths of my elbow socket. I couldn’t believe I’d tried to impress her.  And she didn’t look all that impressed - although my answer didn’t seem to disappoint her, either.

“We’re going after them.”

“What?” I felt sinking in my chest that tugged down on my voice. Not fear, but realization.

“You heard me.” She repeated. And I had heard her, I just didn’t believe in her ability to be so dense about something so simple.

“We’ve attacked them before, Lilt Jackson, it doesn’t work.” I lamented, sadly. I wished that it did, but I’d seen the contrary first hand. “We can fight them off, protect the stations, that’s what Skippers are for, but even when we tried to drive them out during the Mara Station Occupation, they only even left because it wasn’t a foothold worth holding.”

“We’re testing a new Faering. It doesn’t require Oversight,” she rapped her fingers on the edge of her salad bowl in time with her words, and her voice was hushed lest somebody overhear her - it was the first time I’d heard her be serious about something.

“That’s not possible,” I sighed and pushed back away from the table, a motion I needed to use my hands for, because my legs didn’t reach the ground when I was sitting, “whoever your employer is, tell them it’s a nice idea, but it’s not possible. You should go, Lilt. I’m sorry you got drawn up in this, but it’s just another dumb power play from one station to another, infighting we can’t avoid even when we’re at the brink of death.”

“Cadence,” Hadn’t she heard anything I just said? I was ready to get pouty and huffy when she continued.

“I know you think it’s not possible. Skipper. Faering. Oversight. It’s a three-part system, each part as essential as the other two. And you’ve been a Skipper since the beginning, you were one of the first, so I know you’re going to have trouble accepting something so wildly fanciful.” That was an understatement.

“Lilt…” My tone was soft, because there were feelings I didn’t want to have right now - like the feeling of a promise being broken.

“I know you think I’m just some messenger caught up in this, Cadence.”

“And I’m sorry that you are,” I almost snapped, but caught myself, steading my tone and staying professional as I continued, “it makes me so cross that someone would waste time and resources sending you here with something so obviously untrue.”

“Cadence.” Lilt didn’t raise her voice, but that single word was sharp. She paused, I didn’t know why, for dramatic effect? “I created it. The new Faering.” Her tone hung in the air as though she’d shared something enormous with me. I wasn’t buying it.

“I doubt that very much.” I replied, dryly, disappointment heavy in my tone. It hadn’t been meant offensively, but this woman was a nobody to me, she was just a visitor from another station, a kid who knew me when we were younger, a walking example of fiery hotness, yes,  but that didn’t make her special.

“I know you can access Centra. And you know my former name. So why don’t you have a poke around in there? I’m not going anywhere.” She challenged me, and I rolled my eyes at her and thanked goodness they were one of the few parts of me that weren’t detachable, because they might just have rolled the heck away otherwise! But sure, okay, fine. I’d humor her, so what? At least maybe if I did, she’d drop this act. I focused, and I felt, and I connected with the wireless data stream that made up Centra, ones and zeroes pulsed through radio interference, the database of everything representing the one strength we still had as a people in the form of communal knowledge.

Well, when we weren’t hiding things from one another, anyway.

This record wasn’t hidden, though; this was very public. This was academic, this was something we taught our children and something everybody knew. A piece of the Skipper puzzle, a part of how we were still alive. Skippers. Faerings. Oversight. A trinity connected together at the most fundamental level, the entire reason we were still alive as a people. Obviously, we knew the history, of course we shared the names, evidently it was something I should have already realized.

My childhood friend wasn’t just a part of the team that worked on the project; Pulse Wesley Jackson created the Faering. Not just this new Faering. But the original, too.

And that meant…

I stood up with enough force to clatter the teacup to the metal floor before my feet even made contact - if we could afford for things to be breakable, I might have cut my little doll-like feet on the detritus, but sometimes poverty had its perks.

“You have to show me!” I took two steps away from the table in my excitement, my voice squeaking tightly in the realization, “Lilt! You have to show me, what are you even waiting for?!”

She looked at me curiously, tilted her head, and smiled when she picked up her fork from the bowl, her tone ever so gently amused the way that a parent might have been when their child first discovered money from the tooth fairy under their pillow.

“Well, I was planning to finish my salad…”

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52 minutes ago, Pudding said:

I missed that sky, and Lilt’s eyes were not a bad alternative to get lost in

Wow! I'm definitely using that line if the sky ever goes... dark and... Humanity is on the brink of destruction... huh. That went downhill fast.

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Wait Lilt is trans?

 

This so good. What is oversight? Command and control? No something more complex? An AI? Yeah I bet that's what is some kind of an AI control system that acts as a mediator. I'm guessing the Fairing is some kind of ship or Mecha?

@Pudding

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6 hours ago, Pudding said:

It isn’t aware of its surroundings, it can’t feel pain, it can’t process any sensory information. It’s asleep, and we have all the time we need. Save your sympathy for the living, there’s so few of us left and we could use a little thought.

-Dr. Carmine Cassidy [Source Redacted]

love these. They make the whole thing feel more real.

6 hours ago, Pudding said:

I indulged the sensation of the bed beneath my thighs, felt every thread in the weave of the sheets and traced the interactions of the fibers as they pulled and tensed on one another at a scale too small to see.

This explains her feeling thing even better than sensing the station vibrating.

6 hours ago, Pudding said:

A third nod rounded out the Trilogy of Lilt.

cute

6 hours ago, Pudding said:

“We’re going after them.”

So simple, this statement. SO perfectly timed. On Lilt's part and yours.

6 hours ago, Pudding said:

She challenged me, and I rolled my eyes at her and thanked goodness they were one of the few parts of me that weren’t detachable, because they might just have rolled the heck away otherwise!

That and her tongue, as we learned earlier. ?

6 hours ago, Pudding said:

“You have to show me!” I took two steps away from the table in my excitement, my voice squeaking tightly in the realization, “Lilt! You have to show me, what are you even waiting for?!”

She looked at me curiously, tilted her head, and smiled when she picked up her fork from the bowl, her tone ever so gently amused the way that a parent might have been when their child first discovered money from the tooth fairy under their pillow.

“Well, I was planning to finish my salad…”

This is just a perfect bit of comic dialogue.

The piece gets more and more interesting with every chapter, Pudding. Reading it a second time I get even a greater appreciation for your skills as a storyteller. ?

 

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On 10/5/2018 at 7:54 AM, YourFNF said:

Wait Lilt is trans?

She is! 

On 10/5/2018 at 7:54 AM, YourFNF said:

What is oversight? Command and control? No something more complex? An AI?

You'll have to wait and see! :D Oversight is a part of the process for Skippers and Faerings, and an essential aspect at that.

19 hours ago, kerry said:

The piece gets more and more interesting with every chapter, Pudding. Reading it a second time I get even a greater appreciation for your skills as a storyteller. ?

 

Thank you so very much, Kerry! Your feedback feeds me, and I'm so glad you're getting a second chance through to enjoy it without it being in the context of a book report assignment from Miss Pudding~

 

15 hours ago, Hopsalot said:

if you came up with it all by yourself, even Cooler!

I did! :D

 

On 10/5/2018 at 6:50 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

Wow! I'm definitely using that line if the sky ever goes... dark and... Humanity is on the brink of destruction... huh. That went downhill fast.

Bleak is so fun tho!

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Chapter 7

 

I pledge allegiance to the eight celestial mothers: Maci. Maia. Mara. Mary. Maye. Mena. Mira. Mona. And to the Unified Remnants Alliances. I disavow immigration, I pledge fealty and humble service. I am born of my station, and I die for, and with it.

-Pledge of Allegiance.

***

 

“So. If you worked on the original Faering,” my voice was steady and sure as it navigated dot to dot through the words and realizations, “that would mean you were a… a teenager? When the program got funded?” I clarified, curiously, blinking as though my eyes needed to see the bigger picture that my words had painted. “That’s way back at the original conception of the stations, Lilt.”

A part of me was always going to be ten years old, the part of me that needed to follow concepts like those pretty connect-the-dots drawings I loved as a child. I could always remember filling them out in the warmth of the rural sunshine growing up. Dots were easy to follow. And just like my words connected to one another, I was following Lilt the way I followed dots; through endless prefabricated corridors of station, looking down at my feet while I walked, ever certain of my surroundings and my company to the point that I didn’t need to watch.

The steel floor was colder today than usual, and I should have connected that dot, too - the station lost micro amounts of heat whenever there was a Rendezvous because of the contrast between two vessels. The grating made contrast, bringing out the purity in my doll-like skin, and while it gave me cold I had nothing to give in return: No skin cells, no oils, no footprints, none of anything like that - like I existed just outside the physical realm of being. I was a living walking doll, but yet Lilt still felt incredibly magical to me in that moment.

She smiled. I could tell from the inflection in her voice, but I could feel it, too. “And you were a part of the Skipper Pilot Program, which…” she paused, and probably crinkled up her nose, amused by her own cleverness, “Seems like a redundant term, doesn’t it?”

I looked up from my feet and nodded, laughing, because it turned out that maybe she was as clever as she thought she was. “Right! Skipper Pilot Program? Who names this stuff?” I wondered out loud with a big smile on my lips, like for the first time in my life someone got me! Or got it. It seemed as though any annoyance I’d had with her over lunch, over the pool, over pretense, had faded, and any frustration over the fact Laurent had still not contacted me or answered my comms was in the back of my mind.

Lilt Jackson created the Faering, I was fascinated, fixated, and it was hard to really care about much else by comparison.

“So…” I had to wonder, “all that junk about you not knowing about Skippers, and you freaking out about my arm…?” I pouted mid-ponder, like that one dot had snagged my pretty line of thought like a loose thread on a uniform. “I felt really crummy when you sketched out you know…” My voice dropped with that admission, waiting for sympathy, maybe.

“Well, you should have kept up your maintenance, maybe?” She quipped, unapologetically.

“You know,” I balled up my hands, but it wasn’t anger, it was much more minor than that - embarrassment, maybe? It leaked into my words, I was sure of it, “I get enough lectures as a Skipper, I don’t need one as a friend!”

“Friend?” Lilt asked, amused at the term and tilted her head thoughtfully, “Well, yeah, I guess it’s alright to be friends with your new handler. I mean, you and Laurent are friends, right?”

What.

Excuse me.

What?

Handler? Oh no, no-no, Laurent is my handler,” I explained, like a child explaining the role of the dolls in her make-believe household, “Laurent knows me, Lilt, he knows my schedule, my routine, he-he knows how to handle when I have sensory problems! So…” I felt warm, flustered, “So if I took your new job offer thingy…”

“Then I’d be your handler.” Lilt filled in that gap handily, confidently, and I frowned in response and realization, with a little pout across my pursed lips.

“He doesn’t know, does he? That you want to take me away for this project?” I’d gone quiet, again. This dumb cherry-headed woman had my emotions all over the place.

“He does not.” She replied, matter-of-factly. I looked up at her and posed my next question with the full knowledge of inevitability.

“And he can’t know, can he?” 

She confirmed my suspicion with the shake of her head, and offered me a smile in consolation, which felt a lot less consoling than I would have hoped for. I needed to think about something else, or think about nothing at all, because Skippers were not made for thinking. 

“Where are we going, Lilt?” I queried, trying not to sound sullen. I needed the distraction of another topic, although my tone combined with my pout and my little yellow dress made me seem about forty-five inches of sookie-lala, no matter what I would have said to her.

I didn’t come to this part of the station very often so I wasn’t intimately familiar with it - usually when there was a Rendezvous, I was at the other end of the station, preparing for a Run.

Lilt didn’t answer my question, but when we crossed through two sets of heavy doors and passed into a long narrow transparent tube I quickly realized where we were. I stopped in place and she watched me like a parent at the zoo as I pressed my fingers to the curved surface to look out into the abyss of nothingness.

To my right was Maci Station, a sight that I’d seen so many times before; long mismatched panels that once-upon-a-time would have all been identical, with seams that stretched and stitched over a utilitarianly oblong shape; to the way I could feel, the station had more in common with the weave of a bedsheet than it did some wonder of humanity. The only lights across the exterior were aimed down at the umbilical that we were standing in, but I didn’t need more like than that to know what I was looking at: my home.

And to the left…

“Holy smokes…” Sometimes the illusion of my childishness was easily broken by my words, but my genuine sense of wonder did nothing of the sort this time.

I’d already connected that if we were in the umbilical, and Maci was to the right, then that meant Lilt’s vessel had to be across the divide, but that deduction did nothing to prepare me for what I saw. While Maci Station was squares and panels, harsh lines and patch repairs, vast and enormous enough to sustain the population in this dark reach of space and a tribute to utilitarianism, Lilt’s ship was like space itself had taken form.

Two or three hundred yards long, sleek and dangerous and infinitely beautiful. Bony and elegant and feminine as a ship could be. Dark shadows made it difficult to discern precise shapes exactly, but I recognized the brush of the architect. I recognized the elegance, the flow, the way that the dart-shaped ship looked like someone had painted it into the scene.

“You designed this, didn’t you?” I asked in wonder, in amazement, my words soft and barely making it out of my lips. I was breathless.

“I designed this.” She affirmed, proudly.

I peeled myself away from the glass tube wall and looked down the length of the umbilical toward the docking hatch of the sleek obsidian vessel. It didn’t even seem like we were in the same era of human evolution, like the umbilical connected two disparate points in time like an anachronism through infinite space.

Oh.

“We’re not leaving right away, are we?” I wondered out loud, more to myself than to her. The question was a practical one; there was a lot I had to do, so many affairs to get in order, I had to make sure there was another Skipper who was even half as good as I was! I was about ready to start pouting, but Lilt’s reply brought calm.

Even though a small part of me wished we were.

“We are not,” Her hand touched my shoulder the same time her words touched my ears, and I shrank slightly into myself. Nobody but our techs were supposed to touch Skippers; we couldn’t usually deal with the sensation. I… didn’t mind when it was Lilt, though. I didn’t mind it when she touched me, I decided. Maybe it was hero worship. Maybe she just had a way about her. “But you wanted to see your new Faering, right?”

Right. She was right. I knew she was right. I nodded my head and looked back at Maci Station where the umbilical pierced the steel like a thorn, where the hatch had already closed to leave us in the dimly illuminated darkness. In the distance, I saw the glinting shimmer of the two Faerings standing vigil over my home in my absence - I couldn’t see who the Skippers were, but I could feel with absolute certainty everything about them.

And they could feel me, too.

They could feel that I was scared. Scary was long forgotten, I couldn’t remember the last time I was afraid of something; it just wasn’t a useful thing for us to feel.

So, I gave them excitement.

And they gave me curiosity in return.

Then I gave them love.

And what I got back was encouragement.

I shared with them gratitude, and I looked up at Lilt, then at the ship at the other end of the chasm of space.

“Show me to my Faering, Handler Lilt Jackson.” My voice was filled with the final thing my Skipper Sisters had given me in that moment of feeling: pride.

They were proud of me.

And I realized that I was a very small girl about to be a part of something so much bigger.

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24 minutes ago, Pudding said:

Chapter

And I realized that I was a very small girl about to be a part of something so much bigger.

So they have some kind of limited telepathy? Just keep peeling back layers

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26 minutes ago, Pudding said:

the station lost micro amounts of heat whenever there was a Rendezvous because of the contrast between two vessels. The grating made contrast, bringing out the purity in my doll-like skin,

These little bits of information make the whole things seem more grounded (which is probably an ironic word in this context).

29 minutes ago, Pudding said:

This dumb cherry-headed woman had my emotions all over the place.

 

This doesn't ring true. She invented both the faering and the super cool new faering; Cadence wouldn't think of her as "dumb."

31 minutes ago, Pudding said:

my tone combined with my pout and my little yellow dress made me seem about forty-five inches of sookie-lala, no matter what I would have said to her.

lol

32 minutes ago, Pudding said:

Lilt’s ship was like space itself had taken form.

wow. says it all.

And that ending: it surprised me that Skippers could feel feelings over the emptiness of space; that is a new piece of information, I think. I'm not sure how that mechanism would work: hyper-sensitive skin should only be able to sense physical things. But no matter; this was a lovely moment. 

Rapidly becoming one of my favorite stories.

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On 10/5/2018 at 6:00 AM, Pudding said:

the importance of defying the crippling results of bodily dysphoria; the misalignment of body and mind was something Skippers were well acquainted with.

I was actually thinking about this - there are probably a lot of similarities between Skippers and trans people in terms of body dysphoria!  

On 10/5/2018 at 6:00 AM, Pudding said:

I indulged the sensation of the bed beneath my thighs, felt every thread in the weave of the sheets and traced the interactions of the fibers as they pulled and tensed on one another at a scale too small to see.

This is a part of mindfulness and a pretty good anti-stress self-therapy technique! :o 

On 10/5/2018 at 6:00 AM, Pudding said:

A third nod rounded out the Trilogy of Lilt.

XD

On 10/5/2018 at 6:00 AM, Pudding said:

I was out of tea, but had plenty of bitterness left in me to make up for that.

OH SNAP!

...so I just finished 6 and honestly?  I don't really like Lilt that much. >_< I mean, so far she's just been sort of a manipulative jerk.  I hate when people play the "guess what the truth is" game and only tell you if you're right or wrong.  Like.  Just tell people the truth?  I dunno.  Seems arrogant.

But wow the plot picked up fast!! :o 

I'll read 7 in a second.

21 hours ago, Pudding said:

To my right was Maci Station, a sight that I’d seen so many times before; long mismatched panels that once-upon-a-time would have all been identical, with seams that stretched and stitched over a utilitarianly oblong shape; to the way I could feel, the station had more in common with the weave of a bedsheet than it did some wonder of humanity. The only lights across the exterior were aimed down at the umbilical that we were standing in, but I didn’t need more like than that to know what I was looking at: my home.

This.  Is.  Beautiful.  Imagery.

21 hours ago, Pudding said:

My voice was filled with the final thing my Skipper Sisters had given me in that moment of feeling: pride.

They were proud of me.

And I realized that I was a very small girl about to be a part of something so much bigger.

Favorite exchange in the story so far!

Okay so I like Lilt a little more in this chapter.  But gosh she just has the most boring personality. >_< Luckily Cadence makes up for it tenfold!  Cadence is so cool! :D 

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Chapter 8

 

Ten years? Hell, the stations will go as far as fifteen given the right maintanence. We might be down but we're never going to be out. Homeless, but never hopeless. They might have burned the sky, but they'll never burn away our hope.

-Sen. Nabe Nguyen, Commemoration of Maci Station.

***

 

It didn't take me all that long once we boarded her ship for me to realize that Lilt Jackson was a completely and utterly remarkable woman. And at the same time, Lilt Jackson was a wholly unremarkable girl. Paradoxically, there was no arguing against the congruence of those thoughts, not the moment she chose to be a part of my life. In the span of one day, she'd played the role of Excited Naïf, Disgusted Objector, Coy Informant, and Would-Be Handler. Each of those masks seemed equally comfortable to her, each of them seemed like her natural skin and smile. And while none of the masks she'd worn had brought me any closer to knowing who she really was, each provided a critical piece of her puzzle, those important central pieces that show detail. If only she’d throw me an edge, or a corner.

“The air feels wrong,” I lamented, licking the inner slice of my lips while doing my absolute best to ignore everything else that was different here: the plush carpeted floors that sent sensations through my feet I couldn’t even begin to process, the absence of vibration that I’d come to accustomed to anytime I wasn’t on a Run, or the bony-hipped and cherry-headed punky waif who watched my every move.

“Wrong?” Lilt asked, pouring burgundy liquid from a decanter on her desk into a glass, “or different?”

“When you grow up on a station in the middle of the furthest reaches, Lilt, the two share a lot of the same usage cases.”

“Grow up?” She paused, tilted her head thoughtfully, and nodded, “that’s a curious term to use for a girl who died when she was ten, isn’t it, Cadence?” There was something to her words, something not… smugness, no, that wasn’t right, it was something else. Melancholy? That was closer, but still not the golden ticket. Lilt sipped the wine and pulled herself up onto the edge of her desk, sitting there like a rebellious student, while I had little choice but to park my padded butt up on one of the chairs - the feelings of the carpet were too much.

“I didn’t die.” The words were as small as I was, and almost as hollow, my diction all soft and mumbled. With everything Lilt Jackson knew, it left me with more concessions than counters. “Lilt, what is this?”

“My quarters?” She smiled first with her words, and then with her lips. Both were beautiful.

“You know what I mean, Lilt,” Where she offered beautiful, all I had was frustration to give in return, “these are your quarters? Carpet, and art, background music and… and wine? Mankind fights over moldy proteins and swims in reactor water, birthrates are low and Skippers are dying, and you have a mahogany desk and the luxury of…of…” I waved my hand at her in frustration.

“The luxury of being me?” Her words could have sounded hurt, but they didn’t, her intonation was more like a parent explaining a complex topic to a precocious child. Was that the light she saw me in?

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lilt.” I didn’t mean to sound so sour, either, but I couldn’t re-wrap that particular candy, “I just don’t understand any of this, like, do you even know what we go through?”

“You say we, but you’re not a part of any we, Cadence. Not even among other Skippers are you a we. You’re unique, you know why you are, you know why you’re here, and I’m sure if pause, breathe, if you close your eyes and stop thinking for a moment, so you can let yourself feel, you’ll realize what I'm talking about.”

What I realized was how much I hated listening to her. And I hated even more that she was probably right, too.

I closed my eyes with about as much annoyance as a ten-year-old being drafted into a round of hide and seek that she didn’t want to play, I took a deep breath, and I let myself feel through things. I chased the Dots.

“You were surprised that I lived in standard quarters. Dot. You told me that I should have been living in luxury. Dot.” It wasn’t a confirmation, or a recollection, it was a feeling I needed to follow to find the truth I already knew.  “You weren’t playing hero worship, you honestly felt it was true. Dot. We conserve everything we do, we save energy, we save matter, we don’t waste resources. Dot. Why do you believe a Skipper should be afforded special treatment, then? Where’s that Dot?” I wondered out loud, and if Lilt Jackson knew as much as she claimed to know, then she knew the answer to this already.

My eyes snapped open and I looked up at her with an expression of betrayal that tore the innocence right off my doll-like face. “What gives you the right?!” Carpet be darned, I stood up and looked up at her in accusation. “Are you hiding resources from everyone? Is that what this is, the masses toil away scraping by in decrepit stations so the powerful can fly around in dark mysterious vessels and… and own real wood somehow and… and drink wine that’s made from real grapes? You should be ashamed!”

“Is that what your feelings are telling you right now, Skipper Cadence?” Ugh, she didn’t even care how awful she was!

“My feelings are…”

“Are what?” She prompted, slipping down off the desk, “your feelings have to be trusted, even when they raise questions. You’re a Skipper.”

“And you’re a betrayer.” I pouted.

“Am I?” She wondered, curiously but encouragingly.

“You’re a secret-keeper.” I accused

“And what secret am I keeping?” Her tone was almost musical, as though I was getting closer to finding whatever hidden treasure she was guarding.

Real wood, real wine, carpet, a project with the development budget to afford secrecy among the station arbitrators, and all of this above the knowledge of even Skipper Command?

Oh, there’s the final Dot.

“You found something.” I couldn’t dare to sound so optimistic, and I chewed on the tip of my thumb as I felt the padding between my legs grow warmer, like in the end it had been the only place for my hope to flow. That, or I just wet myself like I did sixteen times a day. One or the other. “Resources? A meteor, something mineable, something usable, something we can turn into energy?”

“Think bigger, Cadence. Feel bigger.” And I would have, too, I had a thousand million different feelings and feelings came with images and imagined possibilities, each and every one of them cut short by her Comm chirping. Even that sounded different. I would never be able to forgive that voice on the other side, no matter how exciting what came next should have been for me.

“Dr. Jackson? We’re ready for the field test. Do you have the Skipper?”

“We’ll be down in a moment, Genna.” Lilt terminated the Comm with a click of her fingers as precise and perfect as the wings on her eyeliner, and she looked from the source of the voice on the wall, to my head and my feet and back to my face. “It’s time for you to show me how right I was to pick you. Come on, Skipper Cadence.”

***

 

“What’s your ship’s name?” My voice rang with curiosity, even if the curiosity was only a mask for my pensiveness to wear. “I searched Centra, but came up with nothing, and there’s not enough of us left for the idea of an unregistered ship, so I must just not be looking in the right place.” Down. Down was where I was looking. I was watching the way the floor of her corridor was inlaid, counting the patterns from wall to wall and calculating size and distance. Skippers were supposed to focus on feeling, but thinking helped to settle my unease. Patterns made sense to me.

When Lilt didn’t answer me immediately, I opened my mouth to repeat the question, but her voice beat me to the halfway point.

“The Truth and Consequence,” she answered, dryly; uncertainty was a tone I didn’t think I’d heard Lilt wear before and it made me curious enough to stop counting tiles, although by the time I looked up she was continuing. “It’s not listed on Centra, Cadence. There’s a good reason for that.”

“A good reason for them to hide things from the people?” I spat back, ironically, counting sixteen stairs on the flight down.

“They hid what they did to you, too, and I think you and I can both agree that was the right move, can’t we?” Lilt countered, and I had nothing else to say.

I was wet, I was cranky, and the air was wrong, but Lilt Jackson wasn’t.

What did she know about me, anyway? She’d claimed she knew nothing, and now all she was talking about was everything she did know, and all the things that I didn’t. I liked Lilt the Naïve a lot more in that moment, because Lilt the Mysterious was frustrating and made me doubt myself, and doubt was a feeling no Skipper had a place to put.

I counted another twelve stairs as the floor went from patterned tile to open grating, and through the gaps of the checkered catwalk I could see a cavernous space beneath that comprised the ship's laboratory and hanger bay. And unlike the rest of the ship, this felt… comforting in its dirtiness. Familiar in the gritty, oily, experimental nature of the science and mechanics at work and play here.

It felt enough like home for me to let my guard down and lean over the railing, to take an interest in what was being done here.

This was where Lilt had created a new Faering, one that she claimed didn’t require any use of Oversight. If she’d been anybody else and had told me that, I would have laughed her all the way across the Umbilical and back onto her stupid sexy ship,  because that statement on its own was a clear lack of understanding on the nature of the whole Faering system. A Skipper couldn’t conduct a Run and be their own Oversight, it simply wasn’t possible and no amount of wishful thinking could change reality. If it could, we wouldn’t have been a homeless species.

“Is that…?” My voice trailed off in awe, in curiosity, in hope and wonder, like what I saw beneath us was enough to steal the rest of my words.

“I know it’s not too much to look at now,” Lilt began, apologetically.

“It’s beautiful,” I dismissed her concern with a wave of my little socketed finger joints.

Mankind as a whole and single entity were bound and conditioned to see Fareings as beautiful, because they represented in whole and full the last hope of an entire race, and it was hard not to fall in love with your own salvation. What sat beneath us, though, represented far in excess of respectful beauty. Sixty feet across, three concentric rings of glistening metallic substance, each with nine wedge shaped segments that focused in on a single point in the center - a dark-pinkish-gold facsimile of what a person might resemble, more-or-less, a little bigger than I was but not overly so. Where our Faerings were well-crafted and maintained, this one looked as though it had been summoned from the ether of the universe itself, this looked… willed into existence, equally elegant and functional, like looking at an untextured 3D render in its purity.

“You shouldn’t waste so many resources on building something beautiful, Lilt.” I remarked, critical but impressed.

“Building?” Lilt asked, amused but prideful, “oh we didn’t build this Faering, Cadence. We grew it.”

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13 minutes ago, Pudding said:

“You say we, but you’re not a part of any we, Cadence. Not even among other Skippers are you a we. You’re unique, you know why you are, you know why you’re here, and I’m sure if pause, breathe, if you close your eyes and stop thinking for a moment, so you can let yourself feel, you’ll realize what I'm talking about.”

This Skipper mantra is starting to sound a bit cult-ish to me... o_o

18 minutes ago, Pudding said:

I liked Lilt the Naïve a lot more in that moment, because Lilt the Mysterious was frustrating and made me doubt myself

Generally how I feel.  Cadence and I are on the same page!

22 minutes ago, Pudding said:

“Building?” Lilt asked, amused but prideful, “oh we didn’t build this Faering, Cadence. We grew it.”

...this never goes well in mecha anime... o_o

HYPED FOR THE FINAL CHAPTER OF ACT 1!!!!

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21 hours ago, YourFNF said:

So they have some kind of limited telepathy? Just keep peeling back layers

That's an interesting theory!

21 hours ago, kerry said:

This doesn't ring true. She invented both the faering and the super cool new faering; Cadence wouldn't think of her as "dumb."

21 hours ago, Pudding said:

Ah yes that's a good point! Unless she was being a childish brat and being like "this is stupid..." ;)

21 hours ago, kerry said:

And that ending: it surprised me that Skippers could feel feelings over the emptiness of space; that is a new piece of information, I think. I'm not sure how that mechanism would work: hyper-sensitive skin should only be able to sense physical things. But no matter; this was a lovely moment. 

Rapidly becoming one of my favorite stories.

As a hint, this ability is related to the fact they wet themselves and sleep in cribs. Mind blowing, right? And I am SO PLEASED you like it so much, Kerry!

57 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

I was actually thinking about this - there are probably a lot of similarities between Skippers and trans people in terms of body dysphoria!  

On 10/5/2018 at 6:00 AM, Pudding said:

That's trans people are superheroes too <3 

58 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

so I just finished 6 and honestly?  I don't really like Lilt that much. >_< I mean, so far she's just been sort of a manipulative jerk.  I hate when people play the "guess what the truth is" game and only tell you if you're right or wrong.  Like.  Just tell people the truth?  I dunno.  Seems arrogant.

:D 

58 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Okay so I like Lilt a little more in this chapter.  But gosh she just has the most boring personality. >_< Luckily Cadence makes up for it tenfold!  Cadence is so cool! :D 

I figured that you would ADORE Cadence, honestly, she's so much your type of character I think! And it's such praise coming from you.

17 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

...this never goes well in mecha anime... o_o

psh, mecha? Mecha are for amateurs, these are Faerings baby girl! Ergo, this will be fiiiine.

 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR FEEDBACK EVERYBODY!

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Wow this seems like.... What is this thing. It doesn't look like any Ship or Mech I've seen. Almost sounds like something out of "The Vision of Ezekiel" with how it's described. (Precursor/Forerunner species Tech?) Also grew? It's biomechanical? Or have they actually cracked matter to energy full conversion? @Pudding

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1 hour ago, bbykimmy said:

Oh!  I think everyone is caught up with me now which means I get to experience the story with everyone else and I LOVE THAT!

H Y P E!

Well I've read up through chapter 9 actually so...

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