& nightmares ;

            “reading. practicing. wandering.”

a brief smile flickers across her lips as she looks up from the knife in her hands, the whet stone sitting on the table in front of her indicating that she was in the process of sharpening the various tools of her trade she had tucked around the ship. alongside the knife were a few others of various sizes and types, her weapon preference showing in the display; she usually kept this sort of thing inside her room so that she could remain undisturbed while working. but she’d felt oddly sociable today. the question was innocent enough and didn’t require much attention to be diverted from what she was doing. kafka was usually good at that and she appreciated it. 

it took a few minutes for her to answer. her brain went into overload at the idea of having no limits and trying to figure out what would be at the top of her list of things to do without them. instinctively, she thought back to home and how it would be nice to wander through the streets; smelling the familiar slightly dingy scent of poverty along with the various wafts coming from people’s windows as they made their food. the street vendors calling out their wares and the familiar faces who used to look at her with little smiles and waves. children playing and weaving through peoples’ legs as they laughed; older siblings watching them with worn looks that made them seem older than they were. the safety she had felt in alleyways that were intimidating and dangerous to those outside the community and the feeling that no matter where she went, she’d be safe because everyone looked out for each other in the tiny communities residing in the slums of the planet. what she really wanted was to go back in time and feel all those juvenile feelings once again and to truly believe them. 

but she couldn’t do that. not really. it would have never been the same, even if she did have the ability to step back onto the surface of persephone without the threat of a warrant for arrest on her name. 

             “i’d find a beach to lay on and maybe go swimming a bit.”

the answer wasn’t far from the top of the list. that would have been lovely. she did love beaches and being able to swim freely in waters. but it certainly wasn’t what she wanted to do in her heart of hearts. but sometimes, even in a theoretical situations, you had to be realistic.

             “very.”

the thought of her mind being open and unfilterable was horrifying. with the way the demons in her head spoke and chattered would be enough to concern most people; but her own dialogue would have given away just how little control she truly had over herself at times. no, no. it was a blessing that such a thing would never happen. scarlett would have never been able to look anyone in the eye afterwards; between the random spikes of lust, jealousy and contemplations of how she could murder someone with ease, she would have just about been ruined. she loved her control and was thankful that she’d never have to deal with something like that.

the box stays sitting and unopened for a few minutes, scarlett’s weary and sleep deprived gaze flicking back to it every now and again as she tries to think of what to make of it. she seems unsure; the concept of gifts had never been something she’d been good at, but to ignore it would have been insulting and her curiosity was all too strong regarding why anyone would bother to give her something. an audible sigh escapes her lips, devoid of makeup now that she was in the safety of her room; her hands sweeping the item into her cupped palms as she crawls into her bed, legs curling up tightly around her body as her back settled its way against the wall. 

the tips of her fingers seemed to linger on the fabric of the bow that kept the gift shut, her mind still over analyzing the reasoning for it to begin with. scar forced her eyes to close and gave the material a little tug, unraveling the ribbon and leaving the box free to be opened. another second passed before she dared to open her eyes, as if she’d been scared of how she would react over its opening and whatever the content was inside. but without realizing it, her hands had lifted the lid and the necklace inside seemed to stare back at her.

resisting the urge to immediately look upon it more closely, she picked up the card, the words ringing inside her head and she could have sworn that she felt a pleasant hum form in the base of her throat. the gift was subtle and thoughtful; something she did not expect but made sense considering who it had come from. setting the note down, the necklace was lifted from its case and placed into her palm. there it was kept for the next half an hour as scarlett stared at it, switching between admiration and her thoughts wandering off. 

                              ship five: the felix!

the hum of the engine room keeps her mind occupied and ignoring the beginnings of daily shouting matches between the crew mates she currently existed with. the cargo ship had been her only choice to get off of boros quickly after her last exit and the crew was compromised mostly of men who had a habit of drinking early and fighting earlier. but given that they had needed another person in the engine and she had been the only person at the docks with any kind of experience, their reluctance to take on a female passenger had been pushed aside. which had been just fine with her given that she had just acquired a particularly interesting artifact that she knew a passed client of hers would enjoy.

her little side business besides being a hired gun kept her pockets filled decently enough; though it was risky. people wanted things and she found them those things. no matter the risks and no matter who was in her way. her adrenaline surged with each new find and there was a satisfaction involved in sending things over to clients and the reactions her findings would elicit. of course, it didn’t make her the most popular person at times... depending on where she got her findings. 

[ @syjaewon ] the world was vast and strange and her mind there would never be a time where she could get far enough away from everything to rest her soul. but there were also times were she could sit and stare out at the vast space that stretched out and find a certain level of peace in reward for the things she placed inside her body; the spices that took away some of her precious control and left her drifting alongside with the lights that barely moved passed her vision outside the window. even with her eyes closed, she could still see them: those bright spots inside the infinite darkness that was space, each one reminding her of people and places she’d seen in the past few years. 

a thin line of power lingered on a bare thigh and her finger traced itself on top of it, collecting the precious dust before bringing it to lips. scarlett was never one to waste things; habits still lingering from her life on persephone within the slums. waste was a sin and she carried that right into her life, straight down into her drug use. glazed eyes managed to open once again and her hands threaded through her inky strands, pushing them back and away from her face in an abrupt and almost desperate move. the surge through her veins made her shudder before she relaxed once again. 

fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men.

          “ i used to be. to a degree.”

an arm lifts and slim fingers tug up a sleeve to reveal the slim cross inked over the skin of her arm, the color still visible but obviously worn, as if it had been on her skin for a while. the fifteen year old nayoung had wanted it; the tattoo scene where she’d grown up was vibrant and it was rare that those in the working class didn’t have some form of marking, though most of the time it tended to be home made with crude materials and less than sanitary conditions. 

her mother had forbidden her to get one at the time. which had only made her want it more, of course. fifteen had been an age of rebellion for her; like many others her age, and she had wanted to do something to show off that she couldn’t be told what to do. at the time, her parents had regularly taken them to church. their worship an ingrained part of their lives and the community they had there a welcome distraction from the trials and tribulations of everyday life. the last thing nayoung had thought was that her mother could get angry if she got something religious as a tattoo. it was just showing her enthusiasm, she’d argue.

so off she’d gone. her saved up money rattling in her pockets; her stop at the local tattoo parlor keeping her motivated to stay out of sight of those who might have known her. it had been a quick process. money exchanged. five minutes of pain, a bandage, and a reminder to keep it clean. she’d even managed to hide it from her parents for a few days. 

her mother had exploded when she’d finally seen it. 

a smile flickered to her lips as she reminisced on that first tattoo, fingers dropping the sleeve back down gently before she forced her attention back to the question at hand. a moment passed as she tried to think of a way to word what she wanted to say as a follow up. 

         “my beliefs didn’t develop along with me          the more i experienced life.”

the universe becomes a little bit smaller!

           “tough question. part of me absolutely does and             part of me absolutely does not want to. the idea             of all the souls who have passed potentially sticking             around… they deserve rest. they deserve to pass             onto whatever else there is beyond this world.”

her mind flashes to the idea of her family and those familiar faces she had seen visiting her home; knowing they were all now long dead and gone. a shudder runs through her as she involuntarily thinks of the shadow of her family wandering through their abandoned home, lost and alone amongst the rubble. panic sets in as her heart leaps into her throat and she falls silent, letting what she had already said stand on its own.