#ilikay things

Sitting in the warden’s office isn’t new. You know this chair, big and uncomfortable despite its appearance, and you know these walls, empty aside from two large propaganda posters behind the warden’s seat. The only thing really different this time is the warden himself and you know why. The fire hadn’t been kind to him.In the time before you had pulled him from the inferno, he had managed to suffer numerous burns that were now etched across his skin like mountains scrawled on a map. If anything, they made him look more intimidating....a troll who had survived hell and come out to tell the tale. You’re sure no one will ever tell the part about you dragging him out on your shoulders.... Most days you were called in for some discrepancy or another. Sometimes you didn’t follow orders and other times you followed orders wrong. The result was always the same, but lately you had done your best not to rock the boat. The other trolls held on the station were not too happy with you ruining their plan with your bleeding heart and you’d taken the abuse like a good soldier does. Despite the bruises, you felt you had done the right thing...however ungrateful the warden might be.  He taps his fingers on his desk and watches you with two cold and steady eyes and you keep your own eyes toward the ground. You couldn’t think of why you might have been called there....he was probably going to tell you. “Nazca....brought here for attempted culling of a superior officer....free thinker with the potential for radicalism....potential threat to the Empire....” He reads off your chart with a disinterested look- the same “diagnosis” the Empire had given you when this whole mess started. You’ve stopped mentioning how you never wanted to cull anyone....they don’t hear you anyway. “Sentenced to an indefinite stay in military rehabilitation - to be released upon proper integration into Empirical Service.....sounds about right” The tone in his voice shifts upon his last words and you glance up for just a moment to see him looking at you through an expression you don’t recognize. He steeples his fingers and leans back. “You have fought this every step of the way. Countless punishments and increased regimes and you are still marked as a questionable entity onboard this station...” You don’t say anything; wringing your hands together in your lap. “And yet,you were the only troll out of hundreds held in my care....to show any loyalty.” Now he has your attention. You lift your head and wrinkle your nose a little as the statement settles in against your thoughts and tries to mix with the situation.  “I know that the fire was not an accident...It isn’t the first time the scum on this ship has attempted to remove me from my seat as warden....and it wont be the last. But it was the first time anyone has lept to my aid.” The warden shifts through the papers in front of him with a stern crease across his brow as though conflicted in his statement. His eyes swiftly lock back on yours and his voice turns low. “And I have to ask you....why?...Why would you try to help me when I would never do the same for you?” Again, you are confused. More confused than normal. Is this a trick? A trap? He’s alive and that should be all that matters, but here he is trying to determine the logistics of it all. You swallow hard and find your answer...though you’re not sure it’s the one he wants. “No one deserves to die like that....” He scoffs. “That’s all?....” he asks in a somewhat sarcastic tone. You don’t speak, but nod. His scowl turns to one of frustration and you both sit in silence for a spell. Over and over again, he shifts through your documents and seems to take in every piece of information they have to offer, but each time they don’t succeed in giving him and answer, he sinks back a little more in his chair. “I am not a superstitious troll you know...But I am a civilized one...I believe that actions speak much louder than words.....and that one should not look a gift hoof-beast in the mouth. All good lessons to keep in mind.” He pauses....and sets the papers down one last time.

“And that is why I have decided you are ready to be reinstated and returned to your post”

You sit up so quickly that you almost fall out of your chair. Had he spoken much quieter, you might have missed what he’d said, but as they echo in your mind, you can’t be sure you believe what you’ve heard either way.

“Re-.....reinstated?” you stutter out between bewildered blinking.

“Yes, reinstated. You will be going back to your home-ship and will return to the post you held before you came here. I believe you have proven that, despite your....quirks....your loyalties are steady.” He extracts a pen from the cup on his desk and carefully scribbles a few lines down on the paperwork now fanned out in front of him.You can’t think of a thing to say let alone how to react. It feels like a very surreal dream....

“You leave tomorrow. Have your things packed and your slave ready to leave the station by first call.”  Your ears perk. Perdix! You had almost forgotten and suddenly you’re itching to tell him the news. So much so that you stand up before being dismissed and have to sit back down with a heavy thud the moment your realize it. The warden raises his brow, but motions for you to stand.

Ever had that moment when you are just in the zone and drawing and loving what you made and then you go to remove the sketch layer to color and you haaaaate it?

Ask a Muse How Good They Are At....

You took your seat in the mess hall just as you did every morning. Third table from the back, the farthest seat from the center – your designated place since you arrived. Now, you don’t exactly sit alone. Given how many trolls had been sent to the rehabilitation camp in this sector, there wasn’t a lot of room for you to be a loner. The trolls who sat beside you were by no means your friends, but they allowed you to exist just as you allowed them to do as they pleased.

Once in a while they might engage you in conversation as you were all kindred spirits, but for the most part, you held your tongue and prodded at the things on your plate that passed as food in this establishment. Today as you found your place at the end of the table, those you sat with seemed particularly hushed.