Milo wandered without hurry, drifting from one display to the next, fingertips brushing along the edges as his eyes traced each label in quiet fascination—velvet static, sunburst delirium, midnight hush, neon confession, gravity sleep. None of them sounded real, not in the practical sense; they read like moments, like moods, like something you’d feel at 2 a.m, something between here and there. Part of him supposed they were exactly that, each one specifically designed to fulfill any needs a person could seek. Sleep, lessen stress, become one with zero gravity.
He lingered on one vape, then another, turning a sleek device over in his hand as if it might tell him more if he looked long enough. His head tilted slightly, attention snagging on the presence of someone nearby, and he glanced sidelong at them briefly. “Do you suppose there is a universal vape?” he asked, curiously, giving the device a small, absent spin between his fingers. “One that you can change the flavor with the turn of a knob, or do you suppose you have to refill them every time?”
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milo reed stepped onto the third-floor deck of the ship with nothing but a worn canvas backpack slung over one shoulder and the faint glow of his aqua cloud cosmo link pulsing softly against his wrist like a secret pulse in his veins. at twenty-nine, he carries the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown up in a sprawling chicago brownstone funded by old family money—trust-fund whispers that he never let slip past a polite deflection or a self-deprecating joke. he was never the type to flash designer labels or name-drop summer homes in the hamptons; instead, he wore faded band tees, scuffed sneakers, and an easy grin that made people forget he could buy the entire block he came from.
back on earth, his podcast static & starlight had been a cult hit among night owls and conspiracy theorists, blending sharp film reviews with late-night dives into paranormal lore and whatever juicy gossip the city’s underbelly offered up. he recorded episodes from coffee shops, rooftop parties, and once from the back of a late night bus ride, turning overheard secrets into episodes that somehow felt intimate rather than invasive. some people collect vinyls, others rocks, but milo saw himself as a collector of the stories of others.
leaving chicago behind wasn’t about running away from luxury—it was about chasing something bigger than any inheritance could buy. when the call went out for the voyage to mundus meus, milo saw it as the ultimate blank page: a floating world of strangers with stories waiting to be overheard, paranormal phenomena that might actually be real, and enough interstellar gossip to fuel a lifetime of episodes. he’d sold almost everything, kept only the essentials and his recording rig, and boarded without a backward glance. now, with the ship humming beneath his feet, he is ready to see what he can bring to the airwaves of space.
FUN FACTS:
static & starlight can be found streaming on tunes. he remains anonymous, changing his voice when it comes to recording, going by the ghost name “liminal echo”. his opening line is “this is liminal echo, tuning in from the edges of the galaxy.” and his closing line “catch the echoes where you can, liminal echo out, space cadets.” his gossip is also anonymous, he’s not here to be malicious, he’s just here to keep things lively on the ship.
he has made up an entire backstory for himself and has yet to tell anyone his real story. for anyone onboard, he’s just a guy who got lucky with a golden ticket to space. if you ask him he’ll go “yeah some scholarship program involving space exploration something something details are boring.” then proceed to talk about something else. if you keep pushing he’ll say “orphaned, adopted by a loving couple that lives in florida, something, something. details are boring.” maybe one day he’ll open up to someone.
a part of him is thankful for that blasted pigeon. he doesn’t know what he plans to do with himself when they finally do land on mundus meus. but another part of him cursed that stupid pigeon, because he knows it’s only a matter of time before he get cabin fever.
