#the end of being alone

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (6)

remember how this installment was mostly fluff up until this point? we'll get back to that! 

... just not this chapter <3

part 2: how does a kid end up stranded in space, anyhow?

warnings: bad self care, illness, panic, child in distress, minor injury, non-consensual drug use, trafficking, unethical imprisonment and treatment of prisoners, child endangerment, implied offscreen minor character death, ambiguous character fates, this is a heavy tearjerker chapter but it does have a hopeful ending, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil’s condition hadn’t improved.

They’d tried as many non-medicinal techniques as they could, struggling to figure out what would help and what would harm an unpredictable biological system that they barely understood.

Nothing had helped. Nothing was working.

And each time Virgil woke up to the sight of the ship around him, he wept and struggled and shouted, burning through his meager energy and only worsening his health.

He didn’t respond to heartfelt pleas from any of them, rarely even seeming to understand they were in the room with him. His stare was distant and terrified, his mind somewhere else, and each time it happened, Logan wanted to understand how to help so badly.

So, after several cycles without sleep and with the pressure of increasing desperation weighing heavy on his head, he finally succumbed to the deeply unwise impulse to start a Vidi.

He’d only wanted to understand what Virgil was yelling, try and grasp the reason behind his fear in the hopes that they could abate it, even slightly.

The moment he’d made contact, however, his mind had been dragged into a memory with intense force, the metaphorical handles of the Vidi ripped away, leaving him unable to steer and barely able to move.

His fingers twitched with the urge to pull away, but he stopped himself. It could hurt Virgil, and he’d endured plenty of traumatic memories before. He could handle this.

With a blink, he was looking through a much younger set of eyes.

—

The ship came during the summer.

Virgil remembered, because he’d been reviewing holidays and important events with his class before the break, and his half-birthday was coming up in a week!

His birthday was in winter, so his half birthday was in the opposite season, summer! He’d said as much before trying to debate his way into a trip to the park with his friends, and failing miserably.

So, he’d snuck out. And gotten himself lost between one turn of the neighborhood and the next.

He’d run into one of his neighbors, who’d been more than a little concerned to see him wandering around alone, especially because there had apparently been some people disappearing lately.

“Where did they go?” he’d asked, and gotten an uncomfortable reassurance, which definitely wasn’t an answer.

He’d frowned, tried to ask again, but his neighbor had gone quiet and grey-faced, staring at something over his shoulder. Before he could turn to see, there was a sharp thunk, and a bright bolt of pain in his shoulder.

There was a high, crackling scream, which was bad, but Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to figure out where it came from. A pair of warm hands caught him when he staggered, and then he was out.

He barely recalled what happened next, the memories fragmented like someone had taken a hammer to them. He didn’t want to think about them, but he kept the pieces close and tucked away anyhow, knowing they were important even though they hurt.

He felt flickers of awareness, the sensation of eyes rolling against heavy eyelids, a rapid pulse pounding away in his ears like a big drum, angry and fearful shouting barely audible beyond the clamor.

And then: the barest glimpse of the docking port of a ship from the inside, the entrance ramp folding up and sealing away the green trees and blue sky on the other side. Replacing the brief vision of home with cold metal and unearthly lights.

There weren’t any warm hands holding him, now.

His whimper turned nearly soundless on the way up his throat, but it drew the attention of his captors regardless.

A rush of unfamiliar language above him, another flood of numbness spreading through him, but even from that one fragmented moment, Virgil understood that they were taking him away.

Another blank period, like dipping one's head briefly underwater, and then he was waking up again.

“Easy, baby,” a familiar voice said, a hand stroking through his hair, slow and gentle. “You’re okay, you’re alright.”

“Miss Susan?” Virgil asked, and his voice came out small and crackling. He coughed, trying to force his crusted over eyelashes apart with a growing sense of panic.

“Hey, I need some water for the kid!” Miss Susan called lowly, before setting a hand against his back and helping him shuffle upright. “Take it slow, baby, don’t choke. There we go.”

Virgil opened his eyes and got his first look at the room he’d be stuck in for the next several months.

It was dimly lit, and smelled bad. The floor was metal, with a few thin stripes of grating, like a shower drain. The walls were made of tinted plastic and covered with sharp-edged wire netting, and there were a whole bunch of people inside with him and Miss Susan.

They all spoke to him at one point or another, but he only remembered some of their names. The thought made his stomach twist painfully, and he clamped down on the sensation.

He couldn’t be sick. Being sick was bad.

The time shifted, Miss Susan still at his side but her hair longer and her skin sallower. They were all seated, tired from the cold and the dark and the gross food that he wasn’t allowed to throw up.

Mister Ben was coughing, hard and rasping and wet, one after another. A few people were crouched near him, talking to him in hushed voices as they tried to coax him into stopping, but his body curled in and convulsed like he couldn’t control the coughs at all.

Before long, there was a clang, and a spraying sound like that time a fire hydrant down the road had been busted open. A few people stood between the door and Mister Ben, but the room grew more and more hazy with the thick air that made his legs go all numb, and they were swaying with the effort of staying upright.

Virgil knew by now what happened next. He turned and pressed his face against Miss Susan’s side, and she drew him close and held him tightly as the suits came in.

The aliens were always wearing them when they came into sight. Thick rubbery suits with dark-tinted visors, each with an electric zapper in hand. They’d drag the sick one out, and Virgil would never see them again.

“Leave him alone!” Miss Susan cried, joined by the rising voices of the rest of their roommates. “Don’t touch him, you leave him the fuck alone!”

Virgil kept not looking, but he said it too, into the worn fabric of Miss Susan’s blouse. “Leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone…,”

It didn’t work. It never did. The aliens didn’t listen to them, and they made them weak and floaty if they tried to intervene.

His voice cracked as he kept repeating it, even as the door clanged again and the hiss of air stopped. If he didn’t look up, he could pretend that Mister Ben was still there, only quiet because he was all better from his cough.

"It's okay. I know. It's alright, honey." Miss Susan’s hands shook as they stroked carefully through his hair, soothing him to sleep through the last of his hiccuped sobs.

Everyone who spoke to him was kind, even when they were unhappy. When Miss Susan slept but he was awake, Mister Aaron would invent word games to play or Miss Kelsey would challenge him to push up contests, and they would all take turns trying to think of the worst possible combinations of foods to compare to their mush food.

The best was Miss Susan, though. When he was bored, she would tell him stories about her nieces and nephews, and the farm she grew up on, and silly people at her job before they got taken. When he couldn’t sleep, she would hum whichever parts of lullabies she could remember.

Even when he got sad and didn’t want to move or talk at all, she would hold him close and poke at his side and gasp about seeing the firefly that had snuck onboard with them, until he had no choice but to wiggle free and inspect every corner for its light.

The other adults would spot it every once in a while, too, and try to point it out to him. He never saw it, which he would report back to Miss Susan every time.

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there,” she’d tell him, waving at the dark ceiling of the room. “Glowbugs can’t be bright all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’d get too hot and sweaty. They’d have to go swim in the ocean, and then they’d probably all turn into anglerfish,” Miss Susan said, even though she hadn’t known what an anglerfish was until Virgil had told her everything he could remember about them.

“No way,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Bugs can’t turn into fish!”

“Maybe they just get too tired, then,” Miss Susan said, ruffling his hair. “It must be exhausting, being so bright.”

She went quiet for a moment, and Virgil leaned into her touch, squinting at the dark corners and willing the bug to show itself.

“Even when they’re blending in with the dark, though, they’re still there,” Miss Susan finally continued. “So don’t give up. You’ve just gotta trust in it, and eventually, you’ll spot it.”

“I want eventually to be now,” Virgil had responded, petulant as he flopped against her side, eyes growing heavy.

Miss Susan pet his head, humming quietly until he was almost asleep. She let out a big sigh, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “You and me both, kid.”

And then it was the last day.

He knew because Miss Susan’s hands were carefully cupping his face, coaxing him into waking up with a careful tap to the nose. They never woke him up on purpose, because 'growing kids needed their rest', except for the last day.

Virgil felt his brow scrunch with confusion even before his eyelids started fluttering, and Miss Susan chuckled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head for a moment.

“Come on, baby, wake up. It’s important, okay?”

He forced himself to open his eyes and keep them open, a little unease running down his spine.

Everyone had been scared, lately. Their group had shrunk in number, their room had been moved onto a bigger ship, and there were distant sounds of crowds at all hours, making his skin prickle with nerves when he was trying to sleep.

Some of their roommates were really smart, and they’d started puzzling out the words of the alien language from the ship directions that were given over the intercom and the overheard conversations of those passing by or rudely peeking in at them.

They’d taught Virgil some of them, whenever he was awake enough to remember. The words they whispered now weren’t ones he’d learned yet, though.

‘Transfer’ and ‘auction’. Everyone disliked them, felt too upset or angry about them to explain, even Miss Susan. Or maybe they just didn’t want to explain them to him, like they wouldn’t tell him what the aliens did with people when they got taken away. There had been a lot of arguing and shouting in low voices, trying to keep him from overhearing.

But now, they were waking him up.

Virgil let himself be coaxed to his feet, following Miss Susan over to the corner where everyone stood in a huddle, the tallest of them on the outside.

“Okay, sweetie. I need you to listen to me very closely, alright?” she told him, turning him to face the corner where they usually kept extra clothes in a pile. “You’re going to have to be very brave for me, okay?”

The clothes had been moved. There was a hole in the wall, where the netting had been peeled back. The edges of it were rough and curved like they’d been made with fingernails, like it had been painstakingly carved through one scratch at a time.

It was a small hole, barely the size of a vent, or a cat flap. Virgil could probably fit through it, but he was the only one.

“No,” Virgil shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to! I’m scared.”

Miss Susan squatted to be level with him, holding his hand in hers. “I know, honey. But it’s important, okay? We’re going to get out and find you, but you have to go first and stay safe until we do. I’ll send our little glowbug with you, and it’ll light the way in the dark.”

“What about your dark?” Virgil asked, rubbing harshly at his stinging eyes.

Miss Susan softened, pulled his hand away and smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “Oh, baby. I’ve seen that glowbug a hundred times, here with you. I’ll be okay without it for a little while.”

Virgil turned to look at the hole again, imagining a little firefly crawling through with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Do you promise?” he asked, and Miss Susan pulled him into a hug so tight, it felt like it squished all the air from him.

“I promise,” she said, and her hands shook a little but her voice was steady. Virgil smushed his face against her shoulder for the last time.

“Okay. I’ll— I’ll go.”

The barrier of bodies around them seemed to relax, just slightly, though it still took Miss Susan a few moments longer to release him.

They told him everything he needed to know, everyone chiming in. That he had to run, as fast and as far as he could, and be sneaky and quiet when he was too tired to run. That he should find hiding places and hole up in them, wait until nobody was around to keep running.

That he should always hide from aliens, even if they weren't wearing the suits. That he should never let them see him, because they hated humans. That if they did grab him, he could do whatever he needed to do to get away.

“Just like stranger danger, right, buddy? You can bite, kick, scream, whatever you need to do.”

Virgil nodded, trying to push down the sick, stressed feeling in his gut, and when there was finally no advice left to give, he turned to the gash in the wall.

Wiggling through it was hard, because there were still sharp, poky bits that scratched at his skin and the inside of the wall was dark and stifling, but every time he wanted to stop, he could hear the encouragement of everyone else, who was still stuck inside.

There was a little bug with him, he reminded himself. If he closed his eyes and froze up, he wouldn’t ever be able to see it glow.

Finally, he squirmed free of the last few inches, dropping onto the floor of a very small dark room with shelves in it, like a linen closet. He turned back to face the hole, calling out, and Miss Susan reached an arm through.

He grabbed for her hand and pressed his face to it, clung to her for a long moment, his breaths stuttering as she cradled him the best she could.

There was a muffled clang, and Miss Susan ran her wavering thumb over his cheekbone one more time before pulling away.

“Run, Virgil. Now. Run!”

So he did.

He ran and hid, just like they told him, but he picked the wrong place to hide because it was part of another ship, and it took him far away. He kept running, pulled himself into tiny little nooks on spaceship after spaceship, snuck food wherever he could get it and only ever whispered to his invisible firefly.

Eventually, he left a ship and there were no other ships around to board, only the wide landscape of a different planet, full of weird trees and weird animals and a weird town that he fled from. No more ships came, and that was fine because he didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to stay and wait for them to find him.

He laid on his back and faced the sky, searching for a sign that they were coming. He was hungry and tired and lonely.

The stars above looked just like fireflies, hundreds of them. Enough for all of them to watch together. Except there wasn’t a ‘them’. It was only him.

Virgil felt his face growing hot, his throat closing up at the thought. It was too frightening to be alone.

No, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t. He had their firefly with him, somewhere next to him in the grass.

“Just because I can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Virgil said to himself sternly, and rolled back to his feet.

He would find something to eat, somewhere to sleep, and he would wait. They would find him. They would find him. They would…

—

When Logan finally eased the mental connection closed and pulled himself free, he found there was a low, buzzing keen building in the back of his throat. The sort of sound he hadn’t made since he himself was a child.

Virgil still lay there unconscious, but his cheeks were shiny and damp with tears. Logan reached out, ignoring the heat radiating from the pupa’s skin, and gently smoothed a narrow finger over his cheek, wiping the wetness away as best he could.

It didn’t do much, but the crinkle in Virgil’s brow seemed to ease just slightly at the sensation.

Roman paced by again, pausing at the sight. “Specs? Is the kid alright? …Are you alright?”

Logan wondered what Roman would think about the fact that Humans and Crav’n had more in common culturally than he would have ever guessed. That an entire group of Humans had given up their only boon for the slim chance of getting the only child present to safety.

No time to waste, now. That conversation would have to wait until they’d launched.

“Let Patton know we’re leaving, and meet me in the navigation area,” he instructed, already turning to leave. “I’m going to clear our landing area for departure.”

“What— I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to actually leave?” Roman asked, glancing between Logan and Virgil with visible worry.

“It’s a worse idea to sit here and wait,” he replied firmly, and then he was down the hall and out the hanger door, ignoring the shiver of secondhand trepidation that Virgil’s mind had left in his.

He circled the ship, placing the warding discs that would keep their launch area organism-free down one by one, and then paused at the sight of a familiar creature standing by the main entrance hatch.

It was a Humlilt, one with a distinct little white splotch on its head. Logan was fairly certain that it was the one who had stood between them and Virgil during their second meeting, the most loyal of the bunch, only proved further by the way it had been waiting outside the ship since Virgil had been taken aboard.

Logan was also fairly certain that Virgil had named this one Susan, after his neighbor. The Human who’d taken care of him, in those memories.

“You’ve taken care of him, too, haven’t you?” he asked, still far too affected by the painful sympathy that had washed over him post-Vidi.

The Humlilt stamped a hoof and trumpeted at him warningly as he neared, still obviously holding a grudge at them for stealing Virgil away.

Logan attempted to rationalize himself out of the decision he was about to make, and utterly failed.

—

It took some digging and reaching out to a few of Logan’s less savory contacts, but the ship was on its way to a waypoint station that was rumored to have a Human expert in residence. It could have been a trap, a lie meant to lure interested parties into an attack, but they were going to have to risk it.

The three of them had all agreed to the plan. They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves otherwise.

Now that they were in transit, Logan sat down with his two closest friends, and began to explain just what he’d learned about their kid.

A few rooms down in the medical bay, a half-conscious Human reached out a feverish hand and found a small, fluffy presence curled up at his side.

The Humlilt crooned a few notes, sounding just like the aimless lullabies its namesake used to hum.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Virgil breathed a little easier.

[zillychu]

everyone sh. shutd up im cooking smthn

[theoldkyokodied]

The Allegiance of the Ascended Vampire and the New God of Magic

[mandrake-arya]

so I did a thing

[vriskarlmarx]

the thing about latinoamérica is that it's the most beautiful wonderful place on earth. there's a spinal cord of mountains running through, and at their feet you have everything from deserts to forests to jungles to glaciers. the lungs of the world are here, and so are the eyes into the sky. there are animals like axolotls and vicuñas and llamas and condors and jaguars. and the people are the most clever, the most resilient people in the world. you have cultures that are thousands of years old that have been resisting colonization for hundreds of years and in several cases successfully fighting back and even gaining territory. you have people who have lost their loved ones decades and decades ago who are still fighting for justice. you have a rich history of solidarity and struggle and you can sit with people in a circle passing a mate around and they will tell you of all the times they put everything on the line for a better world. there is an entire island that inspired revolutions around the world and that has been resisting a blockade for 60 years. there are communities building autonomous, revolutionary structures right now. and really it's not a surprise that there's so much grit and strength here because it would be inconceivable to be born and to live in this beautiful place without fighting for it.

[heartorbit]

happy halloween! 🎃🐈‍⬛👻🐇

[turtletoria]

the krampus incident from the book of bill if it was out of character and stupid

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Also - in the I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for scene we also got Buck straight up implying heavily that he was just sleeping with Tommy for the sex and that he didn’t actually have feelings for him - and that will be funny to me forever more!

[duncanor]

Tenderly stroking his fingers over the rune the Mage (Viktor) gave him...wishing he could save Viktor

And then, he found a way to save him.. Together.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (5)

warnings: illness, panic, trauma responses, arguing, mentions of triage & associated terms, mentions of death & grief, misunderstandings, stressful situations, first ever non-fluff installment of this fic tbh, cliffhanger

-

Something was wrong with the Human.

It was telling of how strange his life had become recently, that the realization was tinged with worry rather than suspicion in Roman’s mind.

Maybe it was foolish to lower his guard simply because Virgil was just a kit, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t anticipated that Human younglings would still be so… well, young.

It helped that even when the Human got frustrated or upset, he’d never gotten violent with one of them. Strong emotions affected him just as intensely as any developing Crav’on pup, but there were no violent tantrums or screaming matches or whatever the Human equivalent of clashing horns was.

If anything, he seemed far more prone to flee. The mere sight of their ship had consistently had a negative effect on the kid, but he’d always been more fearful than aggressive about his rejections.

Of course, that might have simply been because they’d never forced the issue. Neither did they plan to— after all, anyone who cornered a frightened child into an unwanted decision deserved all the comeuppance they got, in his opinion.

Virgil could be driven to lash out, he was sure, but then, so could any sufficiently stressed pup.

He wasn’t sure that the Human’s current behavior could be dismissed as stress or anger or any other mood swing, though.

Roman tried not to hover too obviously from the opening of the cave, knowing that a single step further would earn him a chorus of comedically high-pitched warning whistles from the Humlilts crowded around the kid.

They’d managed to encourage a fair number of the undersized fauna into visiting the local town again, but there always seemed to be a small herd within easy hearing distance of their adopted Human.

Logan theorized that they flocked to Virgil because the Human had unintentionally presented himself as a beacon of safety by scaring off most of the natural predators whenever he saw them. Patton believed that they’d seen the kiddo in need and adopted him into their group just as promptly as the three of them had.

Whatever the case, the critters had become quite attuned to Virgil’s body language, which made it all the more alarming that they were behaving so defensively now.

“Virgil?” he tried again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

The kid made a snuffling noise that was alarmingly close to how he’d sounded while in tears, turning his face further away from the cave opening. “All okay. Go away please,” he said, the politeness undercut by the low whine audible in the words.

The Humlilts crowded closer, a few of them making echoing high-pitched whistles. Normally, Virgil would mimic the sounds right back, but the scrunched-up ball of Human on the ground didn’t make a sound. Roman’s tail scuffed against the ground anxiously.

“It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he continued hesitantly, exchanging a worried look with Patton and Logan, who stood a little further from the cave entrance, just out of sight. “You just have to— to tell us, so we can take care of you.”

Virgil flinched and curled up even tighter. “No, no. All okay. All—,” his wavering voice was sharply cut off by a ragged inhale, and then he was making these awful hacking coughs that seemed to vibrate through his whole body.

Roman couldn’t have stayed put if he’d tried. He barely had the presence of mind to flick a stalling handsign to his crewmates before he began carefully wading through the ankle-high herd, ignoring the defiant whistles and the feeling of tiny dull horns being rammed into his legs.

He didn’t want to agitate the kid’s undersized protectors, but those noises sounded bad. Going by the bioscan they’d gotten, Humans didn’t have any gill-lungs or alternative breathing organs. If something was wrong with the kid’s lungs, he could die.

Virgil’s coughs spluttered off into harsh breathing as Roman finally reached him, and his concern only grew as he paused over the kid, who gave not even a twitch to indicate that he’d noticed Roman’s presence.

Normally, the kid was practically hypervigilant whenever he was awake, even the smallest twitch catching his eye.

Mentally bracing for anything from tears to snapping teeth, he crouched and set the pads of his fingers against Virgil’s shoulder.

Only to immediately recoil at the feeling of unnaturally hot skin.

Horror filled him as he registered that Virgil himself was the source of that burning heat, his body generating a terrifying internal temperature.

Oh, stars above.

“Get the medkit,” he called back to his crewmates, already leaning in to scoop the kid into his arms, thankful that he was still small enough to be lifted with only a little strain. “The kid is sick!”

“No,” Virgil wailed weakly, flailing one arm a few measly inches. “No, no, no, noo…”

“I know, I know,” Roman replied, ears pressed so flat he could barely hear the soothing nonsense coming out of his mouth. “It’s okay, it’ll be alright, ghiva’al. We’ll make it all better, just hang on, okay?”

The Humlilts scattered underfoot as he practically charged out of the cave, knowing the path back to their ship by heart at this point.

“What’s going on?” asked Patton, shifting into a run to keep up with Roman’s hurried steps. “Is he alright?”

Roman couldn’t even begin to articulate how not alright the kid was, mostly because the situation had left him unable to articulate anything. The ability to open his mouth had fled him and he couldn’t even sign, not with his arms too busy being occupied with a possibly-melting Human child.

Instead, he shook his head sharply, and registered the preparatory bunching of Patton’s legs mere moments before the Ampen was kicking off the ground to latch onto the closest handhold on Roman’s back.

Roman growled, a snappish reprimand that went entirely ignored. The impact hardly rocked him– Crav’on were built heavy, and Ampens were decidedly not– but he’d barely managed to force down his prickling scales in time, and the last thing he needed right now was two crewmates in need of treatment.

Uncaring of the near-miss he’d almost had with a living spike trap, Patton hauled himself up to Roman’s shoulder with practiced ease and peered over at Virgil’s curled up form. The sight of the kid was enough to make all of his feathers puff out violently in alarm, an involuntary reflex that Roman didn’t have but deeply empathized with regardless.

Logan was waiting at the edge of the trees, a spot that was still mostly out of sight of the ship. The last thing they needed was to agitate Virgil any further while he was already in a rough state.

“Lay him down,” Logan ordered immediately, bioscanner in hand and the med kit open at his side.

Virgil twisted and fussed as Roman knelt to carefully transfer him to the ground, but none of the sounds he made seemed to be actual words, just fragmented little noises of complaint. His eyes were partially open, but they tracked movement with a distinct delay, only the scarcest traces of awareness in his gaze.

Patton was crooning at him, the slightest wobble in his voice, and had a firm grip on two of the kid’s fingers. Distantly, Roman knew that was dangerous, that any mishap involving an injured Human’s strength could unintentionally deal horrific amounts of damage, but he couldn’t bring himself to break their contact. Not when he was barely holding together himself.

“I am going to check your vitals,” Logan informed Virgil in the same steady tone as always, as though this was just another standard interaction. “We’ve done it once before, and this experience shouldn’t be different at all. I will place the scanner along your arm, and it will play its customary processing indicator tones, and you may feel a slight tingling. It will not hurt.”

He didn’t waver in his narration, his actions urgent but not rushed. If it weren’t for the way his lower arms were tucked painfully close against his sides, Roman wouldn’t have thought him perturbed at all.

The scanner let out a low tone, the kind that played for patients who were in critical condition.

Logan broke off mid-word, going completely still for a moment as he stared down at the readout.

“Get him on the ship,” he commanded, and this time, there was a barely-audible buzz to his words. “Now.”

Roman didn’t hesitate, desperation fueling every movement, but he couldn’t outrun the dread that had settled on him, seeping through the cracks of his scales like a slowly-rising tide.

Even with Virgil still warm in his arms, he could feel the heavy shadow of a familiar grief looming over him.

He wasn’t sure if he could survive it a second time.

—

Virgil hadn’t taken well to being brought aboard.

Logan had known this was a probable outcome, but he’d hoped that the child’s current condition would alter the odds. As dazed as he seemed, Virgil might not notice the change in scenery at all. If he did notice, it was possible that the Human’s unusual lethargy would prevent any of the more severe reactions.

It was possible. But that wasn’t what had happened.

Instead, Virgil seemed to have experienced all of his usual terror, with none of his conscious restraint. He’d writhed and fought all the way, making an awful, hoarse little scream that had eventually devolved into strained wheezes for air.

Despite the short distance to the medbay, Roman had gained several new bruises and a small fracture from the process. And that was with fatigue clearly weighing down the child’s every move. Logan had known that the adrenaline compound was potent, a key component of the Human survival instinct, but to this degree?

Most of Virgil’s energy seemed to have burnt out– who could expect otherwise, with his body straining under an immolating fever– but his fear remained. Every time he woke enough to register the sight of the ship’s interior, he was instantly lost to that mindless panic.

No words could get through to him. Even Patton’s attempts at comfort were violently rebuffed, no matter how gentle the Ampen tried to be. After the third close call, Roman had physically picked Patton up to keep him from creeping within arm’s reach again, expression pained.

Logan understood. They’d known that Virgil was afraid of ships, and they’d brought him onboard anyhow. It was to help him, yes, but it was still only a lesser evil. One that Logan had ordered.

As the only way to assuage his guilt, Logan focused everything he had into figuring out a method of treatment.

It would help if he’d had even the most basic idea of how Human sickness worked. They had Virgil’s baseline logged, but the bioscanner was… Suffice to say, it wasn’t helpful.

Some elements of the illness seemed almost familiar. Logan himself was familiar with involuntary thermoregulation, but his own was a stabilizing measure, a response to external circumstances.

The Human version of involuntary thermoregulation… Logan had logged everything: the extensive sweating, the mucus-clogged airways, the searing internal temperature. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like self-immolation.

No wonder Roman’s concern had escalated so abruptly. Just recalling the temperature readout made Logan’s spines flush with venom, a telling shudder of color that he was normally much too composed to allow.

If his body temperature had risen that high, it would have been fatal. His thermoregulation was designed for too-cold environments, not internally generated heat. His nervous system would’ve overheated and completely shut down within minutes.

Virgil had been like this for hours.

He hoped that the persistence was a good sign, that Human durability meant that they were able to handle their own cells turning against them, just another insane biological defense for the infamously unkillable Deathworlders.

Deep down, he feared that being durable meant that an illness like this would simply kill a Human slower. That any and all his attempts at treatment were only prolonging Virgil’s suffering.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the distinct sound of approaching footsteps.

Roman paused at the medbay’s entryway, entirely unsubtle about his check-in to make sure the two of them were alright. He’d taken to stalking around the ship, unable to sleep but seemingly equally as unable to remain at Virgil’s side.

“Like sitting a wake,” he’d muttered, before abruptly standing and all but bolting from the room.

Patton had gone after him. Logan wasn’t sure whether or not he’d managed to actually talk with Roman, but going by the lack of return, he suspected the Ampen had fallen asleep mid-stride somewhere and been carried to his room.

It was understandable. Logan himself had skipped his last two sleep cycles, and had imbibed enough deathbrew to concern a medical professional.

“His status is unchanged,” Logan said, the same thing he’d said on the last three check-ins.

Roman didn’t reply, expression stiff as he turned away to resume his pacing. They’d had a rather charged argument earlier about sharing information and trust between crewmates, and one didn’t need to be an Ampen to tell that Roman was still upset.

Logan couldn’t blame him. The uncertainty of the situation was terrifying, and he hadn’t been forthcoming with Virgil’s scan.

“The bioscanner doesn’t have a reference database for Humans. All of its readouts are based off of the data analysis of non-Deathworlder biological standards, and so the advice it offers is unlikely to be accurate.”

The words were all Logan had to offer when his crewmates had asked about the specifics of the scanner’s results.

It wasn’t reassuring, he knew. Neither was the fact that he wouldn’t release the grip he had on the scanner, an entire hand dedicated to keeping it close. It would have been foolish to completely discount the raw data provided, so he hadn’t deleted the readout.

That didn’t mean that either of his best friends needed to see it.

Sometimes, knowledge hurt. Logan had long since learned that particular lesson, but apparently he’d needed to weave it in a bit more firmly, because he’d been taught anew by the words that had blinked up at him from the Treatment section of the readout.

CONDITION: IMMINENT

SEVERITY: LETHAL

RECOMMENDATION: PALLIATIVE CARE

It was the sort of response that he’d only seen in medic training modules, the one that meant there was nothing that could be done.

“The bioscanner’s dataset isn’t applicable to Humans,” he repeated, despite the fact that there was no one else awake to hear it. “The results aren’t accurate.”

The words were all Logan had to cling to. They were what he continued to cling to, despite all recommendations otherwise.

Ulgorii were one of the longer-lived species of the galaxy, to the point that their ‘immortality’ was a common misconception. They had early life cycle stages, like most species, but they never really stopped growing. Height was associated with age and wisdom, to the point that those who chose spacefaring often spent a while being unintentionally patronizing to smaller species like Ampens.

Like many things about him, Logan’s standoffish nature was an outlier amidst his species. For most Ulgorii, close connections were easily formed and maintained regardless of culture clash– frequent mind-sharing tended to give one an appreciation for new perspectives, after all.

After joining the intergalactic community, they’d learned just how unusual their lifespan was. They’d also learned more than their fair share about loss. It was accurate to say these two things were connected.

There was a saying about it, now. ‘Amidst the stars, new friends shine brightly– and burn out quickly.’

Logan had been off-planet far before he’d become a spacefarer, but he’d gotten around to taking the required classes eventually. He remembered the mandatory training on handling grief and loss, and letting go of attachment.

It didn’t matter. They weren’t relevant to the situation, because Virgil was not a lost cause. Their kid was not a lost cause.

Logan wouldn’t let him be.

[angel-sephiroth]

Careful now. That which lies ahead...does not yet exist.

Our world will become a part of it...one day. But I...will not end.

Nor will I have you end.

[youkaiyume]

I am back from Moana 2. Spoiler free initial thoughts:

While I don't think it was as bad as I thought it would be it also was not what I would call good? It was okay. I think the setup/lore is not very well thought out and it just expects us to accept a lot of it cuz things are happening. They really needed to spend more time worldbuilding. The songs aren't as memorable, but there were one or two that I think are solid. I think there are too many characters and literally Moana's crew is just a copy and paste of Buzz Lightyear's crew from Lightyear. Just as I predicted.

You could really tell though that this was meant to be a series. The narrative flow of it was not as smooth for a movie and I can break up each part as if it was "ah and now this is an episode and this is an episode." At some point I also felt like 'this feels like a video game level and I am meeting an NPC that just directs me to the next section.' So that wasn't great. I'm ngl there were some parts where I was bored or felt like it dragged on too long.

But what we ARE eating GOOD though is all that DELICIOUS Moana and Maui content. Their relationship and interactions are so sweet and when they're reunited again it's literally like seeing two puzzle pieces fit back together and they are well oiled machine. They worked so well together that it kind of makes painfully obvious that we didn't really need the other characters at all. Seeing them and their maturing dynamic was worth it alone.

Overall it was. Okay. I am still kind of nervous where they plan to take this franchise now cuz it's clear they want to do more. And why wouldn't they, Moana is probably the only few things keeping Disney afloat from their mediocrity streak. Did this break the streak? I can't really say it did, but it wasn't a bad time. Not like Wish or Frozen 2 was a bad time. But the possibility of seeing more Moana and Maui adventures is still a bit exciting.

7/10.

[the-alpha-doodle-dome]

As the sands of time wash over us, will you be there, waiting for me on the other side ?

[redshoes-blues]

By the way, Will is explicitly written not only as a gay character who is in love with his best friend, but also as a character who grew up believing that he’d never fall in love. He’s someone who still believes that he doesn’t deserve to be loved, because he feels like his feelings are a mistake. This isn’t the type of character arc that will end with him watching the only person he has ever expressed interest in, the boy he’s in love with, be with with someone else. That wouldn’t be satisfying for viewers, wouldn’t make sense for Will as a character, and it would be needlessly cruel. In a story focused on demonstrating why society’s outsiders deserve love and acceptance, he’s going to find just that. It’s the only end for him that fits with his arc and the show’s narrative themes. To have it end otherwise is terrible writing.

[asvidema]

sunrise