shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

-he picks her up and hugs her-
I do insist. We rather need three captains, so when one of us decides to do something idiotic, there are two others to balance them out.

 

-Laughs- That sure is true. -and realizes who said that and hastily shuts up-

 

-she places a gentle kiss on his forehelm-
It's not gonna be my turn to do something idiotic for a whole long while though. Shouldn't have gone first and blown two idiot moments right one after the other.

-she smiles down at Sawbones.-

 

Ford smiles at them. "Captain Nichrome," he says, "the one thing that I have learned from the Talassani is that life and love are good. You should be attached to your life. I know you have people who love you. They're going to want you around for a damned long time."

 

I never said I shouldn't be, just that I am not. I am quite aware that I am... not the most well adjusted individual.
I've had all of these discussions more times than I can count with just about everyone I know and care about. One does not suddenly become attached to one's life over night, just because the war that somewhat justified seeing one's own life as an expendable ressource is over.

 

WISE WORDS FROM A WISE MAN.

 

"I didn't mean to imply that you could or would become so attached--only my hopes that someday you will." Ford sighs. "Our war was difficult enough. I have no way of knowing what it's like to fight for as long as you did, and I'm sorry that I sounded so glib."

 

[Sympathetic wing-flutters. Is preening the captain bad form? It totally is, isn't it, even if she really looks like she could use a flock to fuss over her.]

 

Valiska opens one eye and then the other.

"That's racist," she says after a moment, "against people who are perfectly fine romantic partners when they aren't spending twenty minutes on the pot because their guts are full of gluten, or in the hospital with theobromine poisoning."

 

"It was, at least, a purpose," Anhelia says thoughtfully. "I lived as if every day could be my last, with no thought to the future. We were but the walking dead whose deaths hadn't caught up with us yet. We risked our lives because we knew they had no value save to cost the enemy bullets and shells. It's rather strange for that to be gone. I never planned to be here."

 

Ford tousles her hair a little. "You really should have told him the spaghetti made you sick when you got sick, then maybe you wouldn't still be upset about it now," he says, and kisses her cheek.

 

Valiska makes a face. "I'm not upset."

 

Ford doesn't laugh, though he thinks about it. "Of course not," he says.

 

"No offence, Anhelia, I come from Beijada Station which is just as bad--but teaching people that their lives have no value is fucking obscene." Valiska sighs.

 

Pret-ty sure we're mostly agreed on that point here, ma'am. Sounds to me more like... living like that's a coping mechanism, a way to survive, and I don't know where Beijada's at but you sound like you might know that a bit. What part of Anhelia's explanation there sounded like she thought that kind of survival should be intentionally taught?

 

"I know, Valiska. I didn't say I believed this anymore. I did at seventeen and I knew it to be truth at twenty-three when I died, because I had been shown in exquisite detail how little we mattered and how hollow it all was. In my days since, I have learned better, I hope."

 

WELL...
WHILE I HAVE NO IDEA WHY ANYBODY WOULD SPEND TWENTY MINUTES SITTING ON THE POT,
FIRE MAGIC MIGHT NOT HURT, BUT HOT METAL STILL ISN'T FUN TO TOUCH,
BUT!!!
THE WISE QUOTE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT EATING OR DRINKING THOSE VERY IMPORTANT THINGS.
SO ROMANTIC PARTNERS WHO HELP PEOPLE AVOID SPAGHETTI AND MILK ALSO COUNT!

 

Anhelia smiles and nods in Eclipse's direction. "Quite so."

 

Fuel leaks, man, does your species not have them?

[He flicks his wings in acknowledgement. Always nice to know he's guessed right.]

 

"Actually, Eclipse...the Beijaden did teach us to think like that on purpose, and ... I have spoken with Anhelia at length about the convictions of her father's people." Valiska sits up carefully, trying not to startle Sev or kick Ford. "My father tried and failed to leave Beijada. I was born during his few years of freedom." She sighs, shaking her head. This is a dreamscape and she does not have to be nauseous. "Warrior societies exist, and tend to have truly pernicious beliefs. There is a sect among the Khalanghaari that teaches you're born with the right to die, and all else you must earn."

"I didn't say it was a cooking pot." Valiska laughs, then considers this. "Okay," she says, "you're forgiven. But oh Lady, Papyrus! That first morning. I was grateful you offered to cook, because I can't, but I thought you could! Ford was exhausted, Mabel was shell-shocked..." She sighs, and begins to laugh. "It's funny now? At least, it's starting to be. My Cere sister makes spaghetti that I can eat, as long as I mostly stick to the meatballs. I thought it would be like that."