#orbit starter

And she'd been three seconds from defending him.

Oh the lords above had some stupid sense of goddamn humour. That corporate prick was going to kill not one person but two. And then the very person who'd convinced her to maybe try to forgive Yoshiro... had turned out to be a computer screen. And also evil. And a humongous dick.

What a fucking joke. Shinsuke Tsujii and Hayate Gacchiri were both lumps of trash and on top of that, Yoshiro Kimura had still killed Himeko. Whatever Valu did it wasn't exactly legal and Fumiko had constantly skirted the line of the rules and had even been threatened. It was a hard thing, knowing how to treat people. Back on... well, back on Earth, back in those days it was different. She had friends, sure, but a lot of people found her annoying and egocentric. They were hardly wrong. But she could still kind of work with those people. These guys? Well... she had to but could she? Shinobu frowns. She'd have to make it work. Though she had no intention of going easy on Hayate if he had the poor sense to enter her line of vision.

Still standing around thinking of violent manuevers she'd like to perform on people would do her no good so she went off exploring. One place in partiular caught her eye despite it being rather grotesque in nature. The mortuary. She ad a feeling she just had to know what was in there. Better the truth than living in ignorance any longer.

She'd seen a lot of bodies at this point. Horrific bodies. Brain tissue missing, heads caved in, artificial limbs detached... honestly she'd always had a strong stomach from horror movies anyway and when shit needed to get done she was going to get it down. Shinobu enters the mortuary and glances around. The smell chokes her, fills her lungs with stale sickliness that makes her mouth tighten. She throws off the tarps and looks at the bodies which are god... riddled with bullets and then some. They're all adults... who were these guys? The staff? Is this Shitsuke's doing again? God, she can't wait to wreck his ass. She cricks her neck to the side and gives the room one last once over before leaving. That ain't any place for anybody with a pulse. It's as she's leaning on the wall outside the room she sees a passerby and lifts a hand in greeting. It's hard to see who it is from here.

Well, two more people are dead. So now is clearly the optimum time to prepare articulately decorated baked goods for nobody in particular.

Tekuro gathers supplies with the sort of vague, automatic concentration that makes it pretty clear just how much she knows exactly what the hell she's doing. Sugar, flour, eggs, vanilla, all manner of conveniently available ingredients go into a bowl and then paper-lined muffin tins before popping into the oven. Cupcakes were easier to manage, but decorating them each individually would help keep her occupied a lot longer than any cake she could make with the shit selection of baking supplies available in this fucking disgrace of a kitchen. Oh, well. Beats smoking her cares away, sort of.

Whew that trial sure was a doozy. Not that she did anything in it. After all it was a pretty slim chance of surviving right? Heh. Valu was laying on the sofa without a care in the world. More people got executed? Yep they sure did, who didn't see this type of thing coming? Amazingly enough she hasn't uttered some terrible puns to this fiasco. Then again people were too busy moping around to notice her.

Just when Yoshi thought things couldn't get any worse, Caligula drops another bomb. He didn't think much could affect him after that, but the loss of something important to him wouldn't get off his mind. At least it wasn't his entire fucking leg, right? That kind of was an object attached to him, in a way, but... He gripped at his shirt, where his pendant should've been, as he made his way aimlessly through the space station.

It was a lot easier to get around when you weren't floating everywhere, but that didn't seem to make him feel much better. With a frown on his face and a vacant stare, he didn't even seem to acknowledge anyone else around. He didn't even have a place he wanted to go anymore, instead he just kept walking around without thinking.

With all of the new areas and rooms being opened up, each more terrifying than the last, it was easier to forget the older places, especially the second area that was so packed full of amenities but had no one really loitering around it anymore. Most people had retreated to their rooms or scanned over the new rooms vaguely after the trial and hadn't done much since, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, the next motive, the next body, whatever. 

Yuu, to his credit, might have made a snack run earlier that day, but it might have been the previous day, and he wasn't going to ask anyone to remind him about what time it was. On the spaceship it was just one fluorescent morning always, unless you felt like going out to the observation deck, which he didn't. Instead, at whatever unmoored time or day it was, he rolled out of bed with no preamble and went off to find the concert hall. 

The stage was just as nice as he remembered. Maybe even nicer. As big as it had looked before, it looked the biggest when totally empty. For a second, he was just overlooking the rows and rows of chairs and breathing and feeling like the last person alive. Then he started to dance. Slowly and self-contained at first, practically just shuffling his feet, and then more and more exuberant, eyes closed and smiling the tiniest smile possible, twisting and flipping and falling and popping back up again as fast as his muscles allowed. Even in his own little world, the sound of his footfalls on the stage, in that giant empty room, probably could have been heard several halls down.

Yoshi spent a great deal of time after the trial alone. As alone as he could possibly get, aside from the occasional investigation of unlocked places and the checking out of books in other locations. He just wasn't up to coming face to face with most of the people left, and he really didn't want to have to ruin his nice gloves by bringing them into contact with people's faces. 

Despite being afraid of heights and having the same problem a while ago, Yoshi was once again sitting in the treehouse in Sector C, not looking down at all, feet dangling off the edge. Kanekos never learn when not to do the same thing over again. He was just a cat stuck up in a tree. Again. But he didn't seem to mind too much this time, silently flipping through the pages of a book. 

With all the fuckin' walking he's been doing, maybe he'll lose some weight. ...nahhhhh. Besides, it's just... temporary, right? Just long enough to get things figured out, straightened out between himself and... Yoshiro. Ugh, this whole situation hurts. The barista's the only one on this godforsaken hunk of metal flying through space who'd actually cared about him, at least he would've thought so before the trial. Sure, some of the others were okay. Yoshi, Hayate, Kaoru... but none of them were his friends. 

With a deep sigh, he continues his exploration of the station, bouncing between sectors at a whim. He's... stayed away from the new areas, ever since attempting to look around and discovering something that'd nearly made him abandoned his lunch, and had noped the fuck out of there. 

He'd moved out two days ago, and hadn't spoken to the barista since.

It's not that he hates Yoshiro; if he had, he would've confronted him before this and been an absolute ass about it. No, the fact that he doesn't hate the other is what's bothering him. More so, the realization that he doesn't know how to feel. He wants to see the best in his only friend, but... Shinobu had brought up some good points, as loathe as he is to admit that. 

But Yoshiro was willing to let him (and the rest of the ship--he needs to remember that) die to save himself and the still-silent breakdancer. So that was definitely a thing to keep in mind.

After tossing and turning various viewpoints over in his head, Shinsuke decides that he can't go any further without actually talking to the guy... his friend. His friend? Maybe. So, uncertainty swirling around his head, he approaches the room that the two of them had shared, and after slight hesitation, knocks on the door, hoping that the long-haired boy is in there.