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whats that post about the woman who accidently became the leading researcher in like ancient pottery or something and was asking around "who's the leading researcher in this, I have a question" and everyone was like ",,you are. thats you" bc thats literally grace.
In his typical fashion Grace does/says something silly, funny, ridiculous, or has a harmless mishap
The mood lightens, it ain’t all bad for that one moment
Everyone’s chuckling or full blown laughing
And in all that mirth there’s a few gasps of alarm
“Stratt?!”
“Hey, something’s wrong!”
“Oh god, Stratt’s down!”
Cut to Director Stratt, doubled over, head bowed, one hand grasping a nearby surface, the other clutching her belly (AND IS SHE HAVING TROUBLE BREATHING?!)
She’s shaking, clearly the picture of pain and agony
Was she injured? Was there a virus on board? Contamination? Bioterrorism?!
There’s murmurs of alarm and speculation among Stratt’s collection of poached scientists. Someone’s called for medical help
And then Grace hurries over to have a closer look at Stratt, takes note of her flushed face, quivering shoulders, the way her whole body’s struggling to keep something within contained…
There’s a look of astonishment on Grace’s face
Before an honest to god smirk slowly forms
“C’mon, Stratt~ it’s okay! Let it out. You know you wannaaaaa~”
Was his smug tone gonna have him waking up tomorrow on his mattress floating out in open sea?
Maybe. Possibly
But the hard fought laughter he managed to coax out of her was worth it
Grace’s name is remembered on Erid long after he passes.
His story is told by Rocky, by Adrian, by the historians of Erid and the young he taught and the old who met him in passing.
His name becomes more elaborate, as time goes on. The Eridians consider changing the meaning, and it becomes something close to our version of “the Lord.” Not a king, or a ruler, but a prayer. A message of faith and well wishes.
A figure in the stars, or perhaps beyond it. A phrase said in passing, in Eridians wishing each other luck, praying for safety, continuing their astrophage research to ensuring the stars never go out once more.
“Thank Grace.” “May Grace guide you.” “By Grace.”
Eridian young are taught that Grace—a word that now more closely resembles something of bravery, of courage and perseverance, is a word—a person—worth remembering.
yeah im just never getting over the fact that ryland grace will never be touched again. it really is the sort of thing you don't realize you need until you stop having it. even if he was never a particularly tactile person, a little physical contact can go a long way in a lot of directions. ground you. direct your attention. reassure you. protect you. there must have been a moment when grace tried to think back to the last time he was touched. when he realized the last person who touched him while he was conscious was holding his body down in the dirt. that the last time anyone held him it was to carry his motionless body onto a spaceship against his will. and he can never get a do-over. he can't paint over that memory. he can't rewrite that fact.
one day ryland grace will wake up and realize he's lived as long away from earth as he lived on it, and he hasn't had any physical contact since they sent him to die. and maybe rocky will make that articulated suit, and maybe it'll be kind of the same, and maybe he'll convince himself it doesn't matter, but he wasn't even awake the last time a human being touched him, and even if they were gentler and kinder towards him while he was knocked out, it doesn't matter. he'll never remember that. his last memory of physical touch and it was violent. and maybe sometimes he thinks that he would take violence over nothing. just to feel something. just to feel anything.
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“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
this morning i'm thinking about grace teaching the eridian scientists about evolution on earth, more specifically how some animals on earth have echolocation and that's why he had an easier time understanding their primary sense than they did his. and also that some animals that live in no light environments evolve to stop having light sensing entirely and animals who live in both high and low light environments can have both.
which makes grace wonder if there are eridian upper-atmosphere life forms that have light sense, and if any of the species that travel between the biomes have both.
the next thing rocky knows grace and the eridian scientists are conducting all kinds of experiments on upper-atmosphere life forms trying to see if there's something eridian biologists missed because they couldn't conceptualize a biological process.
rocky about to beat skulls in because they need to become human experts first so they can keep grace alive permanently and with confidence! the eridian scientists only survive because grace plays the "it's enrichment" card and rocky has to grumbly relent.
project hail mary is insane bc the first half is like oh my god the world is dying and there's alien bacteria eating the sun and there's some guy alone on a ship and he's having a breakdown and the flashbacks are getting darker and this is a tragedy the likes of which i have never seen. then BAM andy weir says fuck you actually. here's this pokemon guy he's here to save the day with the power of friendship. and it's the best thing you've ever seen in your life
k but imagine Rocky wanting to learn about how humans became the apex predators of their planet so he has Grace “hunt” him in the biodome as an experiment and during it he thinks Grace isn’t trying or taking it seriously which is bad bad bad because this is for research purposes
only for Rocky to get more and more tired as the experiment goes on just to realize that Grace isn’t which makes him panic so he puts as much distance as he can between them and finds a (hopefully) safe spot to sleep and when he wakes up the human is crouching over him like “got youuu” and Rocky has never shrieked so damn loud before in his life
rocky hunting grace while hes working like heh. going to pull big prank on grace. stupid human hearing so bad very bad and only 'see' with light-sense organ in one direction at a time. eridian best hunter on all erid, evolved best hunting veeeery quiet. scare grace a lot. very funny.
rocky is HORRIFIED mid stalk when grace suddenly stiffens and turns around to stare directly at him. HOW GRACE DO THAT HOW GRACE KNOW HOW GRACE KNOW
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I do think it's really funny that Sam has this reputation for being a madman who tortures and humiliates his friends for fun and profit but then when you look deeper and remember that these are all comedians it becomes abundantly clear that every single person on that stage is a massive masochistic freak and the dynamic is more that post about BDSM that's like
Sub: Can you drug me and then tie me up naked and throw me in the back of your truck and drive me to an abandoned warehouse where you do fucked up science experiments on me?
Dom, notebook in hand: I don't know, that's scary.
Like that's the real Game Changer cast vs host energy it's not Sam being an insane god of chaos and pain torturing his friends who are semi-unwilling and scared it's Sam offering his comedian friends a space of unlimited possibility and watching them immediately go off the deep end and suggest making an episode based on Slender where they have one hour in a park at night to find 6 pages while Brennan—who is high on shrooms, blindfolded, and holding a broadsword—hunts them for sport. It's not Sam's fault all of his friends are dangerously insane, he's just trying to offer them enough enrichment that they don't start trying to eat each other. In one of the latest episodes the contestants essentially torture themselves for fun and one tries to give a kid a beer while the others cheer him on, trust me the contestants are SCPs and Sam is their handler. This is containment, not torture.
Being physically strong does kinda mess with your head when you have health problems I think. Like you know that logically your muscle mass isn’t gonna stop you from having a sleep disorder or asthma or whatever but when it happens anyways you’re like damn life really doesn’t work like comic books huh? Frankly I am disappointed.
Do you think Superman has to deal with lower back pain? No. He can just lift things with no consequence. Does Batman get sleepy? Obviously not. His ninja training makes him immune to such things.
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Darth Vader rolled his eyes, not that it was visible under his mask, and answered his comlink.
“What is thy bidding, my master?” he asked.
“Where ARE you?” Palpatine demanded.
“I am working to improve the security of the Empire, Master,” Darth Vader answered, reasonably enough. “Will this take long? I am occupied on important matters.”
“Where. Are. You?” Palpatine reiterated. “I want an answer, Vader!”
“I am on the Death Star,” Vader said. “I have been working to improve it. There were several significant problems that the Geonosians had not resolved and it has been quite relaxing.”
“I didn’t want you on the Death Star,” Palpatine seethed. “I wanted you out hunting down the remaining Jedi! Killing anyone who would object to my rule! Doing the hard work so I did not have to!”
“Oh,” Vader replied. “It appears that there has been a miscommunication on our roles, Master.”
“Yes, clearly there has been,” Palpatine said, snippily. “Now, get back to work. Your real work, Vader.”
The comlink shut off.
Vader picked it up, contemplated it, then contemplated the long shaft that fell away below him.
He dropped the comlink off, and got back to work.
His real work.
Making the biggest tech project he had ever seen or heard of work properly.
“Sir?”
Vader let out a sigh, and pushed himself out from underneath the main control panel of the primary hypermatter reactor.
“Do you want me to be distracted while working with a bomb as powerful as a small star?” he asked.
“...no, Lord Vader,” the stormtrooper admitted. “However-”
“Then do not interrupt me again,” Vader said, dismissively, and pulled himself back underneath.
“It’s from the Emperor!” the stormtrooper said, his voice high and squeaky.
Vader closed his eyes, sighing, then pushed himself out from under the control panel once more.
“VADER!” the comlink shouted. “I have a list of people for you to murder that is thirty pages long and getting longer by the day! Start murdering people!”
“Master,” Vader replied. “Can’t you do it with clones?”
“I don’t have enough,” Palpatine said, reluctantly. “Any more. Now hurry up!”
“Local forces?” Vader suggested. “Perhaps make another batch order from the Kaminoans, to solve the problem more permanently? Or perhaps-”
“Kamino was destroyed by orbital bombardment,” the Emperor replied. “More importantly, Vader, you have murders to do. A totalitarian Empire won’t run itself.”
“...that sounds like a disadvantage, Master,” Vader said. “Because the Republic ran itself. Badly, from what I could tell, but it did.”
“Do not play smart with me, Vader,” Palpatine replied. “I require you to clear your murder list as soon as possible.”
The comlink deactivated, and Vader glared at it.
Then at the trooper.
Then he frowned, though all three of those actions just looked from the outside like a blank stare and the stormtrooper was clearly starting to wonder if he should just faint now and get it over with.
“Hmm,” he mused. “Trooper. Assign me a new comlink. Key in the frequency to the system, but make it available only to the Emperor’s clearance. And I will be providing you with some personalization details.”
“...yes, Lord Vader,” the trooper said, then hurried off to get a comlink.
Vader watched him go, then pulled himself back under the console.
He was fairly sure he could improve the diagnostics routine on this so it wouldn’t keep raising errors… perhaps a self-learning system?
It had worked for Threepio, after all…
Palpatine scowled, which was normal.
There was still no sign of Vader! This was intolerable disobedience, and not what he would have expected at all.
Though, admittedly, perhaps Vader’s bad attitude might be the result of spending literal years training Anakin to be a contrary little piece of poodoo who didn’t mind defying or even murdering authority. But that was nonsense, so Palpatine readily ignored it as irrelevant.
Because, far more importantly, Vader had murders to do and he wasn’t doing them! If people kept being permitted to get away with things, some of them would start actually asking why he hadn’t called an election in years. Or why he had emergency powers to deal with the Separatists and the Jedi when they were both, clearly, basically all dead.
Such questions didn’t bear thinking about.
Deciding to be even more sarcastic at Vader than normal, Palpatine brought up Vader’s personal com frequency. There was a new one in there now, which meant that Vader was displaying useful signs of obedience at least, and Palpatine tapped to call it.
“You’ve reached the comlink of Darth Vader,” a message said, in Vader’s tones. “I’m busy right now.”
“Wh-?” Palpatine demanded, his voice full of anger for the first half of the first syllable, then realized that he couldn’t quite breathe properly.
His aged hand flew to his throat, as he tried to fend off whatever was obstructing his breathing, but he was already struggling to concentrate – then he realized there was an iron bar of rage and dark power clamped around his throat.
Tearing at it with his own use of the Force proved useless, for Vader – it had to be Vader – had an implacable will, unaffected by anything Palpatine could do, and he coughed several more times as the world started to go unaccountably grey.
“And how do you feel?” Vader inquired, checking a small readout.
“I think… yes,” the computer responded.
“Elaborate,” Vader requested.
“Yes,” the computer said. “Yes, I do feel. I think. I have… complicated and quite nuanced thoughts on podracing.”
“Podracing is fun,” Vader replied. “How do you feel about the designation DS-1Y?”
“Acceptable,” the computer answered. “I am DS-1Y.”
“And we’re now in the record books,” Vader said. “Since you are, as of now, the largest droid in galactic history.”
DS-1Y’s running lights flashed, and it made a beep.
“I understand, Your Imperial Majesty,” it said.
Vader considered that.
Then looked over at the comlink, which was (1) on mute and (2) flashing with an indicator that there was a message waiting.
“I told him I was busy,” he said, shrugging. “Hm. Dissy, who would you recommend as the next Emperor? I am too occupied to take up the job.”
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