PRODIGAL ✰ GIRL

Kokomi nods to her companion, thankful yet resigned, and adds her handful of catcakes to the bin. She reaches up to the one on her shoulder next - but before her hand touches its shell, it digs its claws in tighter, mewing desperately.

"...alright, you can stay, so long as you stay put," she tells the little creature, and closes the bin's lid before any of the others can attempt to escape. Catcakes secured, she turns back to the corridor ahead. "Alright, I think a few more of them went down this way - let's move!"

By the grace of some god or Aeon, this corridor doesn't lead out into another massive space, but into what looks like a storeroom with only one other door. And while she spots a few of the creatures bouncing their way out of the room, several more take one look at the two of them and skitter into corners and under furniture. Breathing hard, Kokomi rolls the bin to a stop, slams a hand into the door control to close it, and casts a bolt of hydro across the room to do the same on the other side.

"There, now at least some of them are locked in here with us...ahh, I just need a moment...to catch my breath..."

She sits down on a desk - and is immediately rewarded with an angry yowl as a large red-and-white catcake darts out from under it. She's too tired to react swiftly enough, but the Sara-like cat on her shoulder lets out a furious snarl and leaps, pinning the other catcake to the ground for just long enough for her to grab it and deposit it in the bin. Pleased with itself, the golden-eyed catcake settles back onto her shoulder, and Kokomi lets out a breathless laugh.

"Five?" Yeah, that seems right. Probably. If Kokomi counted five then Kiana is content to trust that math. She spares a glance to the other girl's new best friend, huffs a sound like a laugh. "Your friend there's awful strict."

Probably a good thing, they could use a spare few hands. Paws.

The cool metal wall squeaks when she pushes off from it and, with a grunt, Kiana gets on all fours. The room is just odd storage and not particularly large, but it certainly is full of things. Ones good to hide under, notably, as she presses her cheek to the floor to peer under a filing cabinet and is met by a pair of neon hazard lights for eyes. She wedges her arm under, flails it some, then cranes her neck to try and look again.

"Hand's...in the...wa- ow." Her arm is freed, she manages another glance. The thing has only retreated further and, much to her dismay, her arm is only so long.

"This thing is, like, stupid heavy." She huffs to no one, scowling at the thing just out of reach. It hisses, she sticks out her tongue. "Any chance your little helper takes commands? Or is able to lift entire pieces of furniture?" A laugh, she shoves her hand back under and flails it around some more. Something sharp catches her by the finger and, when she yanks back, three claw marks have been left on her hand.

She settles comfortably into the cushions, setting her cup on the table nearby. The bitter brew cools, and Himeko relishes the serene atmosphere. The jukebox is the only company needed, and she hums to its tune under her breath (though, hardly on key), as she reaches for her book.

It's a nice day in space, as far as she can tell. The celestial brilliance is a pleasant enough backdrop for her rest. And yet, its capacity for offering forward new acquaintances goes forgotten, momentarily, as a holograms starts up from across the room. A white-haired girl, that Himeko's sure she's never met before, stands idly, taking in the Express.

Visitors to the Express are an expectation, and yet Himeko can't help but watch curiously as the interloper walks around. She peers over the edge of her novel, teacup stopped halfway to her lips. She'd like to think every visitor is a friend, but of course she is not so naive. Threats must be assessed quickly, and allies should earn a proper Nameless greeting.

"Hello there," she offers. Her coffee must be put on hold, for now. "Welcome aboard the Astral Express. I don't think we've met. I am Himeko, a Nameless, and navigator. Who are you...?"

"Excuse me," she remembers her voice cracking, "you said I could find her... where?"

Of course, in the time it had taken her to come to stand where she does now, her heartbeat had quieted a little. Logic, though never quite her forte, evens her breathing and stills her shaking hands. It wouldn't be her, and that's okay. She tells herself that it is okay.

( Even though, despite herself, there's that murmur of hope that never quite died. That not even the Theater of Domination, the Herrscher's will awakened in her, could kill. The hope that all of the time she spent looking, all of the days she refused to mourn for the belief that she might still be out there, had not been a waste. ) 

And when she looks at her-- not her, merely her-- Kiana feels her heart sink and soar in a unison so exact that it barely moves at all. She makes an effort at a pleasant smile.

Himeko. 

A navigator. 

"Kiana," she answers, then shifts sheepishly. "That's my name, I mean. You can call me Kiana." 

A half laugh.

The cat on her shoulder visibly perks up, letting out a small mew at the mention of food; only to immediately lock eyes with the closest of its brethren and hiss as Kokomi scoops it up and follows the white-haired girl's example, tucking it under her arm and hurrying after the next closest cat-thing. "Do you see a...there!" she exclaims, pointing towards one of the universal synthesizers scattered around the station. "That should be able to produce whatever it is these things eat, right?"

There's just one slight problem.

The synthesizer isn't far away, really. But a massive, yawning gap looms between her and it, and there's no walkways, solid or hardlight, connecting to the other platform anywhere she can see. That, however, has not stopped at least one extremely determined catcake from inching its way across a far-too-narrow ledge to cross the cavernous drop.

Damn. New strategy needed

Kokomi snatches up a third catcake - but the chase is rapidly beginning to take a toll on her tired, aching body, and she's fast approaching the upper limit of catcakes she can carry without them squirming loose. Fortunately, the one that reminds her strangely of Sara has been placid and agreeable so far, but the other two have already deployed their tiny claws and begun to thrash about.

And there's still at least ten to fifteen of the things loose in this section alone. Likely more, if the room wasn't immediately sealed.

She knows what normal cats eat, of course, but these things aren't normal at all. Of course, before she can properly wrack her brain for ideas, the other girl is pointing and-

Kiana knows what must be done. "I got it! One sec-"

Time skids to a slow and she's taking off yet again, disappearing into the folds of it if only to come out a second later on the other side and with one additional (very startled) creature in hand. It takes a few stumbling steps not to lose her balance from the momentum, and she skips to the synthesizer without falling on her face or losing a catcake, at least.

Which is when she realizes that she has nothing to put into it, or knows how to use it really either. With some struggle not to drop her current collection of creatures, Kiana fishes around in her pocket long enough to produce what would appear to be a half eaten bag of sour candies. Good enough. She crams it in, watches the thing think.

And then spit out another, lime green catcake. Kiana blanches.

"Well! Um, I don't know." She doesn't look back over for the other, too sheepish. "We could just run the ones we've caught back, but then..." The ones they haven't yet will just get further, and then they'll definitely lose a few, and- Yeah, bad plan. Think, Kiana!

She spies a trashcan, one of those industrial types with wheels on the back and (blissfully) empty. Someone must have just left it, but that's too bad. Kiana empties her hands into it, waving apologetically down to the little guys below. At least it didn't smell that bad.

There was no excuse for what she did. Even when asked, silence still feels like the best answer. No, it was not the answer the Kiana needed. She needed something, some sort of hope. Pondering a moment, she searches for the best solution. Even if a lie...

No, she can't lie either. There was no one to blame but herself.

"Kiana, I..." Hesitant, she wishes she could explain what was going through her mind, find the master that tugged on strings she didn't even realize. "I couldn't control myself. I know that's not what you want to hear, but... I truly could not stop. I don't know why." Gaze searching for something in Kiana's eyes, drinking in her features like it were wine.

"Because I like you, Kiana. I'm sure that doesn't mean a lot now but... I befriended you because I like you. Because I want to be your friend. It's why I'm here, why I bound myself to you and not another. I don't... have a whole lot of friends left."

It takes a moment, a long one, but Kiana nods her head once. This she understands-- has no choice but to understand. At least a little, in her own way. But if she can blame Fu Hua for this then Fu Hua can blame her for the way she so nearly could have killed her. And maybe that would be the right choice, but it's not the one that's being made. So she supposes she should do the same.

"Alright, I forgive you."

In the small space between them, she extends her hand. The other might not be real, might not can feel or be felt, but she does it anyway. It's principle, it's kindness, it's the only thing she knows how to do and so she does it.

"I like you too." Not out of pity, not because the other says she is lonely. Not because she has to, because she has no other choice. Just because she does, because she did before. Kiana doesn't smile or try to fake one, just stares back, sincere and unwavering.

well , one emotion came to mind . . . happy .

" right ? there was no lack of surprises there . . . " letting free a quiet giggle as kiana sets her head in her hand , the sight . . . just staying there , for a while , watching the one she loved rest happily with her .

" you never know , i've met a lot of people recently . . " she responded , clearly teasing her about it -- mei had a lot of stories she could tell , having put herself in danger one too many times for the sake of others , something she'd likely be scolded for , but secrets aren't kept between the two . . . just told at a later date , something they both knew , as if they were both trying to beat around the bush as long as they could .

at the mention of Sara , she paused , she had to think about it for a second . . . still such an interesting scenario to her , one that might share her face out there . " hm ? i don't think so . . . but -- she seemed nice , i had enjoyed getting to chat with her , she definitely seemed like the type who . . . would appreciate a friend being there for them . "

yet something had still been stuck on her mind . " popular ? i don't think so , my face just may be common . . " a very soft , dismissive laugh . then a pause , looking off to the side . . .

She's teasing, trying to coax the other back from where she can see her mind beginning to wander. Mei gets like that sometimes, faraway when she has something to say but isn't quite certain that she should.

But then she looks back, changes the subject. Kiana's eyebrows raise, she blinks a few times. Her expression shifts into something sheepish.

"Ha... me? N-no, I'm nothing like my old man!"

She's lying. She knows she's lying and she knows Mei definitely doesn't believe it.

"You... um... you talked to him?" It's been bound to happen, the two of them properly meeting. Kiana wishes she had been there, gotten to introduce them to one another herself. It would have been terrible, impossibly awkward, but she would have done it. She would have liked to have done it. "If he said anything weird just ignore it, okay?"

Oh god. He definitely said something weird.

It was exactly due to the nation’s rather difficult terrains (And the sun. The fucking, burning sun.) that Sara had nearly turned around and returned home. Still, her orders to Natlan had come without room for debate, and she could never dare refuse an order at the end of the day, even if said order was something as vague as “Kujou Sara, leave for Natlan and find a new hobby other than training.”

And so she did. Or she tried, anyway.

Yesterday, she had wandered far enough into the nation to have discovered their hot springs, and thoroughly enjoyed it while noting the difference between the spring water there to the ones in Inazuma City.

Today… today, she’d found herself in an entirely new and, admittedly, odd situation.

While she may be hardly inclined toward civil requests outside her duty, the pleading words of a local villager, an elder with pleading eyes and a hand clasping her own, had held her attention longer than she'd have liked. The elder praised how she seemed to be of able body (a comment that Sara could only answer with a confused “Thank you?”), and before she knew it she’d been led elsewhere, the elder preaching about how those with able bodies should help around the village! Or something…

Her sudden “abduction” had her sceptical at first; what trustworthy person would lead a stranger by force, after all? But her mind shifted at the mention of Natlan’s Saurians—the ones so swiftly abandoned. So easily deemed weak or flawed. It was a cheap tactic to gather her empathy, no doubt, but it still brought an unwelcome familiarity that pricked at some deeply buried part of herself. To be so easily discarded and judged just because they were flawed… No wonder she had allowed the elder to trick her into helping so easily.

The nursery was a humble, sheltered glade at the foot of a crumbling mountain ridge, where young Saurians in all shades of scales and strange combinations of limbs scurried about or rested in patches of sunlight. Sara stopped short at the sight of a young woman kneeling amidst the creatures, her pale hair stark against the dark earth and fiery landscape. The village elder must have tricked another traveller, then. How many more will they grab and trick?

Unsure of what she was supposed to do, or where she should even begin, Sara merely stood there—a few (five) steps away from the other, watching in silence as a brown, dull-scaled dragon waddled over to… To bop its head against the stranger’s ankle. Again, and again, and again.

From where her hands are busy with one small, round lizard thing, Kiana's head swivels on maybe the fourth hit. These things sure are top heavy, with awfully hard heads to boot, and that's definitely gonna be a bruise tomorrow. "There are better ways to ask for my attention, little man."

As cute of a sight as it might be, the puddle of little dinosaurs had very quickly begun to felt like a swarm. There are only six or so, but they're needy little things, and Kiana's only got two hands to entertain them with. For the one brutalizing her ankle, she liberates a hand from the chin of another, pushing its nose away from landing a fifth. By the sixth, she'll certainly have broken something.

"You really gotta watch that head of yours, buddy. Seriously. I've been hit by softer bricks."

Her hand is still splayed over its face, guiding its attention away from her poor ankle, when she realizes that it is no longer taking quite so much effort to maintain her safety. Kiana blinks at the saurian, realizes its eyes have gone wide and eager, and has about half a second to realize why before it's bolting.

A woman, one who looms with all the presence of a dark cloud after a storm long past, stands a mere handful of paces away. It's lucky that their little friend has tiny legs, as it charges towards their company nearly fast enough to make up for that.

Finality's authority is what stops it, slowing the scramble just so that Kiana might stumble to her feet and lurch after the thing. She catches it around the middle, only just regaining her balance as time returns to normal around them.

The saurian whines and writhes in her arms, but she pays it no mind.

Then, someone trips and knocks over the side of a pen - and at the worst possible time, a white-haired girl leans against a door control panel, setting a handful of the creatures loose. And, as she frantically tries to catch the escapees, another pen's forcefields fail, sparking uselessly as an entire hoard of the tiny creatures flee in every direction. It's a disaster, and it'll be a nightmare to find and catch them all, but despite everything, Kokomi lets out a slight giggle at the ultimately harmless - and cute - chaos.

Then, the white-haired girl hands her a cat-thing. It's purple, black, and white, with an oddly familiar triangular patch of red on one side of its...head? Shell? It stares up at her with huge golden eyes, and somehow wriggles its way out of her arms to climb up and perch on her shoulder, digging its claws in just enough to hold on.

...well, it seems content to stay there, so she won't waste any more time. "Right behind you!" she replies, and runs after the escaping horde. She's never been the fastest on dry land, and the things are fast, small, and there's a lot of them, but the chase isn't too complicated. At least, until the hallway opens up into a large multi-level room, with at least three walkways connecting to the platform she's sprinted out onto.

"Eh..." Her gaze flits from one walkway to another and then another, then back, over and over until she's at risk of getting dizzy. "Shoot, let's just start with the left one. If we split up we'll have a harder time wrangling them, so-" She's wasting time explaining. "C'mon."

Without waiting for another suggestion to her (admittedly pretty awful) plan, Kiana books it in the aforementioned direction. There are no fewer than five cat-things down this particular way, all skittering at varying speeds away from them. One turns its little head to see them coming and begins to hop a bit faster, two silvery ears twitching.

"Nope, not so fast!" Time slows a fraction enough so that she can scoop the thing up by its scruff-- is it still scruff if it's... cake shaped?-- and tuck it under her arm. The thing hisses in protest, silver eyes glaring daggers into its captor, and Kiana is reminded momentarily of a beloved friend.

Not frozen solid, but chilled, just below room temperature, even though it had only been minutes.

"They made it cold before, too," he said, finally sitting, the scoop of the ergonomic seat pressing into him strangely before it occurred to him that it was meant to be relaxed into. Straightening instead, his head dipped to one side, as though considering the can before him. "I don't think I ever liked it cold."

It was an odd thing to say, and though he knew it within the moments after it left his mouth, he could not quite have pinpointed why it was strange, or why he'd said it.

I don't hate you or anything, y'know.

It was at this that he finally took the care to look this girl entirely in the face, for the long moment of time that bridged the gaps between them, the yawning void of before and after punctuated with the gentle ticking of the clock, second by second stretching out around them before snapping back to the present moment they shared abruptly with a blink of his eyes, the furrow of his brow.

He doesn't think so. She's still lingering on that sentence as he peers at her, hardly hearing him speak when he does again. It may well make sense that she not know the kinds of things he likes, but then the notion that he doesn't either is something else entirely. Not for the first time (and certainly not for the last) Kiana is reminded that she pities him.

No, pity isn't quite the right word. All the nightmares she has of becoming him and this is the scariest one.

And so she breezes right past his remark, swats away the conversation of who killed who and who deserved it without a second thought. Kiana looks at him, really looks.

"So you prefer it hot, the old fashioned way." Her chin dips in a nod, thoughtful. "That must suck. How did you used to have it?" Before he froze everything he touched, or maybe before he forgot how he preferred it. Whichever came first. "I always prefer cream, never really cared for the whole bitter thing. When I was in school I used to steal extra sugar from the cafeteria because there was never enough. Aunt Theresa caught me eventually."

And as much as she knows that she's just talking, that maybe he doesn't care or maybe he'll find such a conversation pointless and annoying, Kiana doesn't feel inclined to stop. How often do you get a chance to get to know a guy so deeply ingrained in the history of the world, and how often do you get to ask him how he likes his coffee?

NO MATTER HOW MUCH TIME PASSES, NOR TRUTHS BROUGHT TO DAYLIGHT, one thing remains a constant, she would always be his daughter, the girl who used to smile with missing teeth as he charred bread into something that could only barely be called toast. Yet those were the memories that had become irreplaceable in his almost irresponsible hunt for a way to ensure that power within her would never escape her control again.

"Theoretically? It should last forever, the device charges off the honkai it absorbs to ensure it doesn't release unless necessary." A fact he can almost attest to, with the years spend rigorously testing to ensure that the device could withstand and absorb the ICHOR from his veins with every intentional transformation. "We did test it on the first herrscher, with a full success in keeping those nearby from cascading."

A hand that comes to rest on her back even as arms curl into him like he's about to disappear to search for the one organisation that was capable of helping her again. Siegfried has never judged or stopped open displays of emotion, especially when his darling daughters have gone through so much in the space of a decade. Still, like the echo of the past, a hand reaches to curl into the ivory locks, brushing through them as he feels her curling against him like she had so long ago.

"Only Bronya and Welt know you're back today, someone had to help me borrow the Hyperion." He doubts it went unnoticed, and yet they'd a tight circle around their plans for the moon rings, after all, her reunion with those she loved was hers to have and hold first and foremost, he merely stole the first dance like he was want to do. "I've been planning it since the day she woke up in the snow, kiddo, the remnants of that scared little girl." A confession that even now he doesn't blame her for the day Schicksal had forced VOID to awaken, hand on her back, rubbing in soothing motions.

"Haah... twenty years on and Cecilia was right, the only thing that matters is you growing up to be happy after all." Even now, the name is choked from his lips, blue hues turning to the woman in his arms. "Guess calling you Mama's princess all those years ago turned out true... You can let it all out now, there's only us here." Soothing tones as the knight of House Kaslana continues to rub at her back soothingly, as if expecting the tide of emotions to swell forward finally.

But it exists, it cradles her in warmth and memory. It sings softly in her mother's soprano, because maybe it was not hers to hear then but it is hers now. It is theirs-- hers and her father's-- to carry with them into this embrace.

"Alright, alright-" It's been a few minutes-- maybe ten, maybe an hour, she doesn't know-- when at last she untangles herself from his arms. It's with a laugh, with the feeling of his arms still tender on her skin where she knows that they will remain for some hours longer. Forever, maybe.

Kiana makes a great show of smoothing out her shirt and flattening her ruffled hair, goes so far as to wipe at her cheeks, and tries not to start when her fingers come back wet.

"I really don't know what to say," she's laughing again, that breathless kind of sound that always chokes out of her when she has too much emotion to know what to do with. "Thank you just doesn't seem right. I thought-"

That she would spend forever up there, alone? That she would watch the world forget her and have to love it enough, anyway? She would always love it, she knows that, but wanting to protect a world that has forgotten all you did for it didn't really bode so well for the last Kaslana to try. She shuts her eyes, shakes her head, and smiles at him.

They've never really been the most emotionally upfront of a duo, herself and her father. She doesn't know how to tell him what this means to her-- what this time with him, this love from him, is. She trusts he will understand, because somehow he always has.