beyond the stars (on hiatus)

"Please tell me that's not your costume." Mullin says, taking a sip of their tea. They hold a newspaper in their other hand - half-forgotten from their sister barging into the mess hall. Their eyes flick from the cat ears, to the tail, to the staff... broom... thing? that Djeeta is holding, and all the young woman offers is a grin in return.

"What, you don't like it? Gran and I are matching this year!"

"You match costumes every year, Djeeta." Mullin sighs. "What even is it?"

"I'm a Nekomancer!" She laughs and twirls in her red and black skirt to show off the look, finishing with a dainty staff flip as if to prove she could be considered dangerous in such a fluffy outfit. "I raise cats and other pets from the dead, meow!"

Mullin blinks a few times, then finishes their cup of tea. "And you had to show me this over breakfast?"

"Duh! It's cause I have one for you, too!"

Absolutely not. There's no way in hell I'm wearing something like that.

"No."

"C'mon, pleeease? It's for one night out of the whole year, and you never dress up with us anymore!"

"I... really shouldn't, Djeeta." They shake their head, a sympathetic smile on their lips: "I would hate to be in costume and something happen in town with you all celebrating."

"Aww..." Djeeta pouts. Then thinks for a moment, and Mullin can almost see the gears in her head turning to figure out a way to convince them. They try not to laugh at their sister's face of concentration - her wrinkled nose more catlike than usual - and half-heartedly continue to read the news.

Hmm... Merchant's Association welcome party, trade reopening in Agastia... no news is good news for Auguste, at least...

"Oh! What if I ask Rackam to dress up too!" Djeeta exclaims, and this time, Mullin does laugh a little.

"Getting my boyfriend to wear a costume would be even harder of a task, Djeets."

"You're no fun." She huffs and snatches the paper out of Mullin's hand. "Would it kill you to take a break for one night?"

Mullin's smile tightens across their features: "It might."

"Boo." Djeeta sticks her tongue out at Mullin. "You should at least join us in town tonight for the party, even if you don't wear the costume."

"We'll see."

~☆~

Mullin does, much to their own chagrin, visit town that evening - Zinkenstill's holiday celebrations were nothing extravagant, but still held their own special charm. Vyrn had excitedly ran off in the direction of the baked goods, having spied a tall pile of apples on the table, leaving the captain to linger by the large bonfire in the center of town.

Mullin watched the flames for awhile. The soft embers burned and sparked in the darkness; soft laughter drifting over from the other side of the bonfire. Flames licked the sides of logs piled high, a dizzying combination of red and orange hues imprinted in their mind.

It's oddly peaceful out here. I wonder if Rackam dressed up... No, probably not. He was in his quarters last I saw him.

"Out here all by yourself, handsome?"

Mullin jumps, and tries not to look too flustered at the casual compliment from Rackam - who, it seems, always had impeccable timing. They then immediately look away from him, since their brief glance revealed that the helmsman was wearing a vampire costume.

"I can't sit by myself?" They reply, trying their best to appear nonchalant.

"I mean, you can, but I think you'd prefer some company," Rackam's smile is apparent in his voice as he comes to stand next to Mullin, offering them a pair of gloves. "I ran into Gran. Said you looked a little cold."

"Even though I'm right next to the bonfire?"

"Hey, don't attack the messenger! Here." He offered the gloves again, and Mullin held out their hands with a soft smile. Rackam gently slid the soft fabric over their fingers, across the back of their hand, and adjusted it so the gloves rested comfortably around their hand and wrist.

"Better?"

Mullin smiled - a bit embarrassed, but pleased.

"Yeah, thank you. Can I ask about the...?" They gesture to his outfit, a cheap looking cape draped over his broad shoulders.

"Oh! This. Ah, well, I thought I should try and fit in with the holiday, but... I don't have much. Maybe next year I'll figure something else out!" He laughs. "You think we could swing a couple's costume?"

"Hmm. I'll need some convincing, but maybe." Mullin leans over and rests their head against his shoulder as they both look out into the bonfire.

"'Sycophant's Lullaby'? That doesn't exactly roll off the tongue." Mullin picked up another piece of sheet music - one that Rackam had dropped - and handed it back to him. They were walking by the band's practice room on the ship (just walking by! Not to see Rackam, of course, but to... to... okay, maybe they wanted to see him a bit).

The helmsman jumped at the sound of their voice. Nearly dropping all of the papers again, he quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat.

"Oh, uh, Captain! It's nice to see you. Yeah, it's still a workin' title, but less scary than Bloody Garden..."

"Oh, but that one is my favorite," Mullin replied, their expression falling a little. They scanned the music and quickly realized they had absolutely no clue what they were looking at. "So, what's giving you trouble?"

They like rock? That's news to me... Shit, they asked me a question.

"Oh, ah, this part." Rackam gestures for Mullin to sit next to him, and they do. He picks up his trusty red bass guitar and points to a specific few measures in the music. "Here. It's a fast tempo, and these eighth note runs always give me a hard time."

Mullin hums in acknowledgement; Rackam continues with his explanation and continues to practice the part. They watch with intent, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Hey, this is actually helping. It's nice to have a practice buddy. Rackam looks over at Mullin, their expression a mix of curiosity and frustration - their nose wrinkles up at a particularly rough note.

"Hey, hey, don't give me that look! If you're so judgmental, you should do it." Rackam teases them, and they immediately balk at the idea.

"No thanks, I'm good, actually-" Mullin stammered a little, quickly tearing their gaze from his hands and the guitar, "Not like I'd be any good at it. I'll stick to cheering you on from the sidelines."

"Aw, don't be like that, I'm sure you'd do great." The helmsman nudges the captain, and they pointedly don't meet his gaze. "I was serious, y’know."

Mullin glances back at him: "...About?"

"Singin'. With Lyria. Gran and Djeeta have their whole idol schtick, you could definitely join us for a few songs."

A light blush crosses their features, and it takes every part of Rackam not to comment on it. They tuck their hair behind their ear, a sign that the compliment was well-received. He'll take that small victory for now.

"I'll, uhm, think about it." A very Captain-like response.

"I'll talk to Aoidos, yeah?"

Mullin smiles at Rackam: "Yeah. Oh, keep going, I want to hear the rest of the song!"