Your heart hurts.
It hasn't stopped since you got back. You're trying to just be a person around people again, to pitch in around the community, to be a leader. It's been hard. And also you're not trying? No, you're trying to not try -
A couple days after you got back you'd gotten a phone call, of all things, from the Captain. And she'd spoken to you in a quiet voice that's like yours if you didn't always kinda rasp a little, and it had been, you think, meant to be kind.
She'd said: "Debriefed Nattie. I'm only gonna say this once: don't try to be okay. You just got fucked in half and tossed in a blender, and if you walk around trying to tell everyone you're not hurt and act like it's all okay you're just gonna hurt yourself worse. Be hurt, be fucked, tell people when they're too close and you can't take their help, and then take it when you can."
There'd been a long pause there, because you didn't know what to say.
So the Captain then continued: "And if you're anything, anything at all like me, find yourself a bitch taller than you - shouldn't be hard - and have her stick something up your ass. It won't fix the damage but it'll reduce the stress."
And then she'd hung up and not taken your return call. Calls. Multiple calls inside of fifteen minutes. So you thought about it and now you're trying not to try, which is putting your head in knots and the way people sometimes treat you like you're made out of spun sugar is fucking infuriating but, also, when you're on the verge of angry, desperate, powerless tears and you just hug someone from behind they don't fight you about it, so maybe the Captain was giving good advice. Or at least advice that helped her? Or advice she wished she'd gotten?
She had to be on that island in the rain for a whole war. You only have moments.
The ass comment got stuck in the sex notebook and has been underlined a few times but you still haven't tried it. Today you spotted Nattie for the first time since the two of you got back, hanging near "your" end of the docks. She's smoking something. You approach, cautiously, but she's here because she wanted you to see her, so - oh, it's weed, weed's the smoke - so you light a cigarette and go stand near her without an immediate comment.
And she says: "Sorry I made it weird near the end there."
And you say: "I think we passed weird when you taught me how to masturbate seven months in."
"Yep."
"Mmhm."
"Not sleeping well?"
"Like my skin is full of ants, you?"
"Like a baby covered in thumbtacks," Nattie agrees, glumly, waving her weed cigarette at you Generally. "...I'm gonna say something and you're not gonna like it."
"We need more bodies," you predict. Nattie chokes on her smoke and gives you a look. "I've been reading the plans you've been sharing. In particular I keep reading the repeated notes in the margins, there's this phrase that keeps coming up."
"What's - oh yeah. 'Labor is the cause of and solution to every problem'."
"So either I'm gonna need to spew an infinite amount of blood out my eyes to get us real cropland in the city here, which means we need to salvage, smash, and burn, or we need a corridor to the farms. Which, how's that going?"
Nattie clicks her tongue. "...We lost contact with Hoch. He hit the suburbs and found some kinda warning from like, the mob of all people? Some boss, Micky or whoever, left this voice recording in a waterproof box saying not to enter the suburbs. Captain got a little weird about it, said maybe Hoch should pull back, but he fast-talked her into approving an exploratory. Last thing we heard from his team was the comms guy sobbing 'the horizon is gone' into the voice mail for about forty-five minutes."
You do not love that. "...We've got a lot of enemies already here Nattie, and we haven't even
met any of the bandits your people are sure have to exist. I don't think I want to open a millionth front against urban back-fill."
"...Me either," she admits in a pained voice. "Before. Before we went Inside, leaving Hoch for dead woulda been impossible. Now? Fuck 'im, he picked his own grave."
"You care more than that," you sigh. "We don't have to like making the right choice for the people here with us who expect us to protect them. Don't do that to yourself. Marie and I aren't holding you wanting to flee the prison against you either."
Your - friend? - freezes up at that, goes real still. You look away to give her space to process that and - Marie is rowing an office chair in your direction. Like. Like a ferryman from a painting but it's an office chair and also she's sitting down. The stick she's using is very neat, looks like a break-off from the garden; the leaves at the top tinkle and chime with every motion, making you wince and shake your head. Marie looks at you with concern, so you point at the leaves, and gods be praised she strips them from the stick as fast as she can.
Her arrival is followed by another long, awkward silence. You look at Marie. Marie looks at Nattie. Nattie looks at you. You look at Nattie. Nattie looks at Marie -
Marie opens her mouth: "You two need to
promise you're staying."
Uhhh...
"Come again?" Nattie prompts, while Marie is searching through her pockets. She hands you each a piece of notebook paper, and you both go to read...
Names. Numbers. Descriptions. About twenty-three former Inmates in all, with their crimes Inside illustrated with a cold, clipped precision that turns your stomach. You really wish you did not know what some of those words mean.
"They die," Marie says in a low voice. "...I can't do it myself. But they die, and the rest join our community, and you two
stay. I promised the Wasp I'd come back to a home that loves me, right? And...and...it can't be that if you two aren't here, because you're the only two that understand me. So you
stay. No adventures, no going off to war, you stay here and build stuff and figure out justice and kiss someone who's not my dumbass sister until I
get back."
"Marie -" you start, as gently as you can.
But something behind her eyes snaps, and she stands from her chair and gets in your face. "
PROMISE!"
Choose 1
[ ] Orchid stays put for the next Arc
[ ] You can't promise that
Either way, Orchid will be an option for the next Arc's perspective