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There's a gentle thump and a stretch of silence before her footsteps draw close. The door opens smoothly, just in time for her expression to match.
With a slight cock of her head, "Huh. Your eyes are the same."
With a slight cock of her head, "Huh. Your eyes are the same."
"You fly the same," he replies, warm but not over-familiar. They don't really know each other. But he'd like to.
"Oh, that's smooth." There's an edge to the way she grins, but she does step back and gesture for him to come inside.
Her cabin is clearly a blend of two different rooms, but they share a common aesthetic. There's her office, dominated by a simple wooden desk covered in paperwork contrasted with a chair like a fiendish throne; there's her bedroom, dominated by a canopy bed hung with red velvet curtains and covered in white satin sheets. The decoration ranges from 'demon heads on plaques' to 'paintings of vast, beautiful landscapes'.
Her cabin is clearly a blend of two different rooms, but they share a common aesthetic. There's her office, dominated by a simple wooden desk covered in paperwork contrasted with a chair like a fiendish throne; there's her bedroom, dominated by a canopy bed hung with red velvet curtains and covered in white satin sheets. The decoration ranges from 'demon heads on plaques' to 'paintings of vast, beautiful landscapes'.
The grandiosity feels more familiar than most of the barge's decoration, even if it isn't as coherent as the Hexarchate.
"I mean it. I was very jealous for a bit, after the dreams."
"I mean it. I was very jealous for a bit, after the dreams."
Just a bit further indeed. When he gets to everything with Nate, well. He's left staring at the page for several seconds before looking back up at Madelyne, eyes very wide.
"Oh." He looks at the file, then at her again. "I... Oh."
"Oh." He looks at the file, then at her again. "I... Oh."
"Yeah." The rueful, crooked little smile looks strange on her face; it's the sort of expression she wore far more easily in the old days, when she didn't have anything to prove.
"Nate...he didn't really know what he was doing. He wasn't cruel on purpose." Looking back on it now, with all of her history intact and feeling truly whole - god, he was so young. "I don't even know where he is, these days."
No one has told her, and she hasn't asked.
"Nate...he didn't really know what he was doing. He wasn't cruel on purpose." Looking back on it now, with all of her history intact and feeling truly whole - god, he was so young. "I don't even know where he is, these days."
No one has told her, and she hasn't asked.
Envy without fear has become such a novelty that it catches her off guard for a moment, before she settles into a faintly nonplussed smile.
"I'd take you for a trip in the clouds, but - " She shrugs, and hovers a few inches off the ground. It still requires a certain level of poise and balance, but it's not exactly exciting.
"I'd take you for a trip in the clouds, but - " She shrugs, and hovers a few inches off the ground. It still requires a certain level of poise and balance, but it's not exactly exciting.
"I find clouds exciting enough, to be honest with you. Aside from the Deck here, I've never lived anywhere with a sky."
He says it placidly enough, a shrugging admission, as though he were simply a bit sheltered, rather than deprived.
He says it placidly enough, a shrugging admission, as though he were simply a bit sheltered, rather than deprived.
Maybe it's because her memories already felt jumbled after a week in another life, but she's abruptly thrust back in time: staring at the creche in the bowels of Genosha where babies were grown to be slaves, wondering why it felt so damned familiar.
"Was that incidental or designed?"
"Was that incidental or designed?"
"Yes?"
He's not completely sure he's parsing her question correctly. "In that I was definitely a prisoner, but also lots of people live on space stations."
He's not completely sure he's parsing her question correctly. "In that I was definitely a prisoner, but also lots of people live on space stations."
"Imprisoned in space. That's another level of insult." She has a feeling they both have reason to see the cosmos and believe in their bones that it meant freedom.
He tilts his head for a moment, echoing the bird he was.
"Is that how you feel here?"
"Is that how you feel here?"
"Not at the moment, but the first round? I was very intent on dying and the Admiral interrupted me." In retrospect she's surprised she didn't fling herself offboard then and there; maybe if she hadn't been distracted by other passengers.
"The second time, and this one, he asked. Probably because he knew I'd say yes."
"The second time, and this one, he asked. Probably because he knew I'd say yes."
"Well, I'm very glad you've decided to give us a chance."
"Less about you, more about me having shit to do." There's entirely too much fondness in how she says that for it to be entirely true.
"Whatever works," Jedao agrees blithely.
"Well. You could find out, when you go home, if you want to. If that's where you want to go."
He's distracted though, chest squeezed in a way that would make it hard to breathe if he needed to.
"D'you... d'you want to talk about it, any, the... the circumstances that brought you back?"
He's distracted though, chest squeezed in a way that would make it hard to breathe if he needed to.
"D'you... d'you want to talk about it, any, the... the circumstances that brought you back?"
"Always."
She does admit, with a bit of a half-shrug, "Never had a permanent warden before this, either. I assume that helps."
She does admit, with a bit of a half-shrug, "Never had a permanent warden before this, either. I assume that helps."
"I could." And if he's dead, or worse, she could - well, she'd have the tools to do something about it.
"It's - all a bit moot, now. I've died and come back twice since then."
"It's - all a bit moot, now. I've died and come back twice since then."
"I think it usually does. I've never been an inmate, so - take my perspective with a grain of salt, but. I think it always helps to have someone on your side."
He's been alone often enough to appreciate it.
He's been alone often enough to appreciate it.
Her eyes widen, for a moment; she's not sure why she assumed he was one of the graduates, but she did.
Just the kinship of dreams and borrowed lives, probably. Either way, he makes a good point.
"It does. Assuming they stick around."
Just the kinship of dreams and borrowed lives, probably. Either way, he makes a good point.
"It does. Assuming they stick around."
He quirks an eyebrow back at her, reading the source of her surprise.
"I have my sordid and bloody past, I promise. I just managed to live through it," he tells her wryly. For better or for worse.
"I have my sordid and bloody past, I promise. I just managed to live through it," he tells her wryly. For better or for worse.
How dare you catch her being wrong about a thing. The disgruntled little pout is chased almost immediately by grudging amusement, and a little bit of admiration.
"I was getting there, for the record." Her life had felt - so much bigger, this time. There was more room in it to fail, more room in it to grow.
"I was getting there, for the record." Her life had felt - so much bigger, this time. There was more room in it to fail, more room in it to grow.
Edited 2024-09-12 06:53 (UTC)
"Then I'm glad you'll get to keep going."
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