Holding Galley's hand while he was navigating lumpy space was a mistake. You knew that even as you did it. He seemed to find the steadying touch helpful, so you did it anyway. You didn't know what the consequences might be, but you were willing to take them for the sake of your matesprit and your ship. In retrospect, it's possible you lacked imagination. Even before your vision clears, you know you're not on the Sunslammer anymore. The smells, the air movement, even the gravity -- you're downwell, and if not on Alternia, then somewhere that's been terraformed to be very like it. Either that or a simulation much better than officer training had the budget for. There are other trolls nearby -- highblooded, aggressive, recently laid. At least one is emitting the stink of fear. You hold very still, blinking purple afterimages from your eyes, waiting. You're unarmed. You're out of uniform, dressed for a party. Whatever's going to happen now, diplomacy's your best option. You can figure the rest out later.
Rescuing the fluffcheep from a gruesome demise as an evening snack was a terrible mistake. It isn't grateful at all and wiggles like a very fluffy little worm against your stomach, trying to nip at you and peeping loudly enough that hiding is pointless. Slowly, you catch your breath, scoop a few brain cells back into your skull, and peer cautiously out at the adult. Well, he's fucking huge. So that's not great. But he's also holding very still, and hasn't done more than cock an ear back in your direction, even thought you know it's damn obvious where you've holed up and he could easily fish you right back out with one scoop of a ridiculously oversized paw. Also.... he's awfully familiar looking, for an adult with most of his back to you. Long straight hair, blue tint to the eartips. The horns are a set of enormous, multi-pronged trophy antlers, but something about the base curve seems... right. And Bel is... not here anymore, somehow. You clear your throat awkwardly, and poke just the very tip of your snoot out of your hide. There's optimism and then there's suicide. "Excuse me, sir," you say, very politely. "Are... are you a Kadros?"
Diplomacy: looking more possible by the second. You turn enough that he can see your face, but not so much that it could be mistaken for a challenging stare or a prey fixation. "I am. Why do you ask?" You can't see much of him, but his voice sounds maybe teenagerish. Could be a threat if mishandled. Both the fear and the sex smell are coming from him. Any others are either better hidden or were here recently and are gone, because the desert breeze is attenuating those scents. You keep your shoulders relaxed, but can't stop your ears from swiveling watchfully.
"I, er... I know a Kadros, I was just... with him, and then pow! Here you were, looking, er, rather, rather the same, way, ish. Similar. Especially in the face area. So, er. Process of deduction, old bean. Sir. Sir Bean. Please don't eat me. I've been trying to retire from things doing that and I won't like it at all if you try and also I have a lot of guns and am a capital shot with all of them."
"Old bean," you echo, with an incredulous little laugh, and turn full toward him. "Have I time traveled? There was a warp accident -- come out, is it, are you --? Erskin?"
You flinch entirely back into your hide, because it would probably be easier to look the sun full in the face than meet the blow-torch blue flash of this stunningly huge and dangerous and large and very dangerous and definitely not regular size at all Kadros who is also, again, extremely fucking well dangerous. But also you are behaving ridiculously and, worse, you know it, so you steel yourself enough to lean your head and shoulders out of the rocks, burningly aware of being naked as the day you were hatched, if not more so. "Bel...?" you ask, hesitantly. Hopefully. Ready to run like bloody fuck all over again. The fluffcheep pops out of your grasp like a fuzzy little cork and bobbles cheerily across the oasis grass towards the adult, peeping at the top of its idiot little lungs. It's the exact proud tootle that Reggie used to make when you accomplished something as a pupa, only pitched up to squeakbeast levels.
Bemused, you study the weird little creature yodeling around your ankles. "I know for a damn fact we never met on Alternia, and this isn't Reggie. But you are definitely Erskin Aspera, only. Er. Fun Sized. I don't suppose you have any idea what's going on?" You squat on your heels and give the tiny lusus your fingers to examine. It hops into your hand and nestles there. You blink at it. "Hold on, this little guy is blue. Don't tell me this is supposed to be my lusus!"
You let out an only-somewhat-hysterical giggle. "Alright, I shan't, then! But he's certainly not mine, I'll tell you that." Wriggling around a bit, there's just enough space in your hide to drag on a pair of shorts, and then you have to scoot clear of the rocks and stand up in order to pull a tshirt on. You've still got an aching sense of your own vulnerability, standing here barefoot and bare-armed and without anything more than a pistol in your hand, but you doubt even a suborbital relay cannon would make a dent in the ridiculously magnificent specimen of a troll that crouches before you. But also, you'd rather like to see what would happen if anyone with a suborbital relay cannon tried. You swallow very hard, and preen one of your fins back, suddenly rather tongue-tied, and more than a little relieved that Cloris took such pains to keep your hair and horns done up nicely.
You hold the chirping ball of fuzz up and look it in the eye. "You're ridiculous," you tell it. "Who invented you?" It just twitters happily at being addressed. You give up on making sense of it and turn your attention to the coltish youth version of your kismesis. "What's been chewing on you?" You tilt your head. "Good grief, you're a walking punch card. This definitely didn't happen to you in the real world."
"My matesprit was a rainbowdrinker," you say. "Er, you killed her a few weeks ago. So I suppose you're not-- this you isn't--just the grownup version of my kismesis, then? You're from somewhere... else." You frown, and preen back your other fin. "Can time have somewhere else? Is that even a question that makes any sense? Surely time has places in it, everything else does."
"Um. If there can be a reality where I killed your matesprit, then one where we met as children is no big, I'd think. Lainey was a rainbowdrinker, you say? That doesn't sound like a very good reason to kill her." No wonder he's still frightened of you.
You blink, open your mouth, close your mouth, and run both hands through your hair. "No, it wasn't-- Lainey's not-- but-- wait, you actually agree with me that it was bad form to have murdered the love of my life? Because I've been mad as hell about that for awhile now and everyone's been acting like I'm an idiot for it! I mean they all hated her but still. It was a shitty thing to do."
"Obviously I don't know the details, but it sounds like a galaxy class dick move. You want to tell me about it?" You look around the little oasis with a shrug. "I don't appear to have anything better to do."
"We were about to... well, never mind, that's obviously not happening now, with you all like... this." You tread cautiously closer, and settle down at the outside edge of his wingspan. Obviously he could pounce on you from just about any distance, with legs like that, but you'll see it coming if it happens. "Er, so, anyway..." you start hesitantly, completely unsure of yourself. And him. And what you're doing. And everything else. "I had a matesprit and she was a rainbowdrinker and very kind to me, and I thought-- I was under the impression-- that you would, er, kill me off to protect your matesprit, so I ran away as soon as Cloris suggested it. And stayed with her for-- for about-- for..." you frown and rub your forehead, trying to think, "...awhile. Some... some time. And it was. It was wonderful. And I was... happy. It was good. She was good to me, I know-- I know she was. Jethro came by and she was, she was even nice to him, we could have all been together, but he was. I think he was... followed? By you? And you blew her to fucking bits. She was-- she was gone, what was left of her attacked Jethro, for the blood, almost killed him, we had to. I had to sew him back together, he's alright, but. She's gone. She's all gone. And everyone hates her and thinks I'm saved now and they're happy and I should be happy." It's extremely horrible to be weeping in front of Bel, especially a spectacularly grown-up version of Bel who is looking at you with genuine warmth and concern and eyes filled in like-- like-- exploding sapphires, or something. Fuck. You bury your face in your hands and try to hold your breath, to calm down.
You suspect patting his shoulder would make him jump a mile, so you don't. "Not Lainey," you say slowly. "Cloris. Cloris Vhines?"
You take a deep, sniffly breath, hold it again, let it out, and then glare over your hands at him. "Yes," you say, warningly.
It's an effort to keep your voice from turning menacing, and you can't help it chilling a bit. "The jade who kept a little purple girl as a sex slave, drugged her and starved her, scarred up her face and chopped her horns off, that Cloris Vhines?"
You push your face back into your hands and a low, humiliating noise comes up out of your throat, all pain and anger and confusion. "Yes. No. I don't know, there were-- pictures, there were pictures. On her computer. After. There were so many pictures. Of children, of-- of dead children. I don't know. She was my Lady, she was so good to me, I loved her."
"She would've killed you just like the rest of them, if she was anything like the one in the real -- in my reality. I'm sorry, Erskin, I sympathize with your sadness but it sounds like your Bel saved your life." God, you sound pompous. But he's such a kid. This whole alternate-reality thing is really weird and you hope it's over soon.
You are speechless with outrage. Instead of words, you just snarl, and headbutt him in the side as hard as you possibly can. A small corner of your mind is gibberingly aware that you are pissing off a mountain and expecting to outpunch the avalanche, but the rest is too damn indignant to care. He's just like his other self, he isn't sorry at all, he'll never be sorry, every fucking version of Kadros always thinks he knows better than you about how to live your life! You are going to dent him.