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Wherein Simon’s got to stop wayward travelers from accidentally falling pray to the blood moon, but Grace and Rocky have never met a mystery they didnt immediately try to stick their whole body in. (😉)
Grace: “how dangerous could it actually be?”
Simon: “… did you see my very human face and still think ‘what a cool eldritch horror. I bet he’s always been that way.’?”
Rocky: “Rocky just assume nebula sometimes talk. Rocky hear lots of weird 🎶 in space.”
My one and only bloodymary headcanon is that Grace gets Simon a journal and/or computer so that he can get his feelings out on paper and instead, Simon writes the word “fuck” over and over again for 200 pages over the course of, like, a week, and then never touches it again.
So in some ways, Grace can say that it was a success.
When youve been on a ship for five years so you bet your rock shipmate the next movie choice that you can jump over his really sturdy and painful hamster ball assuming, because a robot made your really buff while you were in a coma, that it'd be easy, but then you forget that gravity is just slightly off. So now your foot hurts, youre being laughed at, and one of your teeth, which was already in a precarious standoff with scurvy, is loose ☹️
Earlier today I saw this incredible comic by _ga027_ on insta where Simon is a new teacher and Grace’s icebreaker is asking Simon his favorite flower and I WILL NEVER BE OVER IT
So… consider, after they become friends, and while walking to work together, Simon stops to smell the roses and Grace thinks “I should get my good buddy some flowers”
Also human!Rocky to Adrian: would you still love me if I was a rock?
And the kids who heard that conversation ran with it 🙂↕️
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Unfortunately, there is an unconscious, blood-soaked man turning the sheets of the med-bay cot red. It is, Grace thinks somewhat hysterically, not the worst thing those sheets have been subjected to, if you count the corpses.
Grace does, and he tries not to think about it too hard past that, mostly because he still cries when left with Yáo and Olesya for too long, and he doesn’t think crying would be a worthwhile use of his time at the moment.
The man is alive. Grace isn’t sure how, seeing as the man had been floating through the vacuum of space for who knows how long, no suit, almost no clothes, just to show up as a Blip on Mary’s monitor, slowly drifting in their direction. Grace suited up, spent half an hour in the airlock waiting, and still managed to cut it short — caught him by the ankle, right before he was set to bounced off the hull of the ship, which will be funny in approximately 10 years, provided he doesn’t die in the next 10 minutes.
Fortunately, the blood appears to be largely not the man’s. When wiped away (from behind a sterile film of xenonite), partly by Grace until he starts dry heaving, and then by Rocky, who has the constitution of … something with a stronger stomach than Grace’s; a rock, perhaps, the parts of the man that should be covered in viscera are instead coated over in what appears to be … tree pitch.
Which truly makes no sense. Grace says as much as he exams the sticky, flakey substance in the quarantine chamber.
“Earth tree, question?” Rocky asks, poking at the same substance where it’s congealed around the man’s missing arm.
“Yeah,” Grace says, “and as far as I know, there isn’t any reason an Earth tree should be this far from Earth. So our interloper is definitely a bit of a mystery.”
An understatement; Grace is freaking out.
🩸🩸🩸
Simon wake up screaming.
There’s something cold in the base of his throat, in his gut, in his feet, in his hands—
What the fuck. What the FUCK.
In his hand.
Louder than his screams is a melody, equally discordant. Simon turns to his right, see’s a leggy rock, hurls the contents of a tray next to the bed he’s on at it.
A load of rags, a flashlight, and a bottle of alcohol collide harmlessly with some sort of glass structure.
Simon shuts up.
The leggy rock shuts up, too.
“WHAT THE FUCK,” says Simon, inelegantly, through vocal cords that feel like peeled string cheese.
“Rocky does not know last word,” says the leggy rock.
Okay i couldnt stop futzing with it so here’s space anomaly Simon and astrobiologist Grace, cleaned up
where Grace is an astrobiologist who may or may not be incapable of returning to Earth, drifting by on a solar sailer with his alien bud Rocky, and Simon is a cosmic anomaly, anchored to a moon with oceans upon oceans of blood.
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Simon’s got nothing to worry about. Grace is an expert at piecing together the mystery of a person’s past using one (1) whiteboard and approximately a million equations.
Also Rocky is here this time. To ask the important questions.
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