Wolf Montana's Thinks

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is eating with Simon, who stares down at the leafy greens on his plate with wide eyes. "I have plenty, go ahead." But Simon refuses to eat them. Grace decides not to push. "So… where's home?" The man looks thoughtful. "I'm from…" He stills. His red eye seeks Grace, lit from within, as he suddenly speaks in a voice made of many. "WE ARE FROM THE NIGHT SIDES OF ALL WORLDS, WE-" Grace claps sharply, twice. "What did we say about not talking over others?" "RULES DO NOT APPL-" clap clap! "Simon was speaking. If you want to talk, you have to raise your hand." "BUT-" "Five." "WE-" "Four." The gaze turns angry. "YOU WILL R-" "Three." Slowly, Simon's hand rises from under the table. Grace shakes his head. "Simon first." Teeth gnash, the eye rolls, but Simon becomes himself again. "…Mars." Grace almost falls out of his chair. "You're a MARTIAN?!"

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is dreaming, as Rocky watches, studying the alien's face. The odd lines above the lens orbs - eyebrows - draw in, raise, lower, and wobble. The large orifice - mouth - opens as if to speak, but nothing is said. The muscle inside - tongue - moves oddly. Is Rocky's friend having a bad dream? Simon approaches, smiling. "The gills are gone!" he says, drying himself. Rocky points at Grace and sings quietly. "Why is Grace doing this?" "Doing what?" Simon sings back, snagging the towel on his fangs. "These facial patterns. His mouth, the tongue?" Simon shrugs. "Peer inside, perhaps his dreams trouble him?" "Uh…" "Please, I am worried." "Okay, but I'm sure…" Simon's orbs widen. "What? Is he upset?" Simon's mouth shifts. "No…" "What is he dreaming about?" "Nothing?" "Why is that framed like a question?" "No reason?" Rocky tilts aggressively. Simon flails. "Fine! He's kissing me!" Rocky sits back, before bobbing happily. "New behavior!" "Oh no." "Demonstrate when Grace wakes!"

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Simon is trying to sleep underwater as Grace taps on his laptop nearby. Can't shake that feeling of drowning, even breathing through gills he never wanted. Panicked, he gives the Red control. Take over. I can't stand this. Red focuses immediately on Grace. The eye burns brightly as Red plucks at Grace's thoughts. Worry. Hunger. Fear. Love. The maw shifts, the needle teeth grating. Love? "DOCTOR RYLAND GRACE," it purrs in a song of many voices. Grace jumps in place before turning, his gaze stern. "Change Simon back, please. He's terrified of water." "BUT THIS FEELS LIKE HOME," Red sighs musically. Grace frowns. "Why are you singing in English?" "YOU IMAGINE SIMON AS A MERMAN… SIREN. THEY SING." "I do NOT," Grace sputters. Red peers. "YOUR SKIN REDDENS." "It doesn't!" Grace squeaks, pulling his collar up. "LIAR." Red purrs. "YOU LIKE US." Grace shrugs. "Maaaybe I like Simon." "SIMON IS US." "No," Grace snorts, "you're a parasite." Red pouts. "RUDE."

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Rocky makes a tank as Grace paces. Simon breathes through new gills in a bucket nearby. Awkward. Grace fills the tank and Simon sinks into it, hating every moment. The gills ripple, he's breathing, but nothing feels right. Feels like he's back in the blood. Drowning. Curling up, he closes his eyes, trying not to panic. Grace's voice is distorted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Simon shakes his head, hair drifting listlessly. "Not your fault," he sighs, the sound lost in a pillar of bubbles. Frustrated, he switches to Eridian. The eye smolders, the jagged maw opens. "Fucking fuck fuck," he sings. Grace smirks at the translator. "Yeah, fuck this." Simon jerks up. Rocky rolls back. Grace looks between them. "What?" "Grace never say fuck!" He's defensive. "I can say fuck." Rocky is staggered. Simon snorts bubbles. Smirking, Grace starts swearing non-stop. Rocky has a fit. Terror gone, Simon laughs so hard he gets hiccups. Grace grins. "I just prefer fudge."

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is pulling Simon to the projection room, grinning. "You've never seen a sunrise!" Smirking, Simon follows. They sit together. Grace starts the file 'Beach Sunrise 02.mp4'. Simon's gaze is filled with wonder as the sky lightens to gold and the sun peeks up and over the water. The camera dips beneath the waves. Simon's expression shifts. To terror. "No," he whispers. Grace frowns, looking at the ocean and back. "What?" Simon struggles to escape. "What's wrong?" He curls up, breaths shallow, fast. "Simon!?" Simon rises, red eye brilliant. "HE IS AFRAID OF THE OCEAN," the Red says in layered voices. "Shit, I didn't kn-" "WE FEAR NOTHING. WE ADAPT TO THIS NOW." "Adapt to…? Wait-" The skin of Simon's neck ripples. Splits. Now Simon's gaping, like a fish. The jagged mouth frowns. "WE MAY HAVE MISJUDGED." "MAY HAVE?!" Grace shrieks, grabbing Simon. Simon claws at his throat, gasping. "Change back!" "NOT ENOUGH ENERGY. RECOMMEND AQUARIUM." "OH MY GOD! ROCKY!"

Imagine Grace, Simon, Rocky on Grace's ship. They're on their way to Erid, to Rocky's delight, Grace's relief, and Simon's confusion. "Erid?" he asks. Grace nods, smiling. "Yeah, Rocky's planet." "No, I know that. Thought we were going to Earth?" Grace's gaze falls. "I'm sorry. Couldn't save Rocky and go to Earth, so…" "Do they have plants? Meat?" "Don't think so." Simon frowns. "Then what's to eat?" Grace shrugs. "Rocky says they'll make stuff." "From xenonite? We can't eat that?!" Grace smirks. "Maybe they'll clone me, you can eat that." Simon looks disgusted, until the red eye flares. The fanged maw grins. "TASTY," it growls. "Hey!" Grace snaps, hands on his hips. "I was joking!" The maw pouts. Rocky rolls in, bobbing. "Is good idea!" Grace holds up his hands. "Whoa." "Not all, but part!" "YES!" "Just a minute!" "Which part, question?" "THE BEHIND. IT IS LARGE." "Food solved! Both not die!" Grace flails. "NOBODY IS-" he looks down. "It's not that big?" "ENORMOUS." "Large, is large."

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Simon is back in the sub, drowning in blood. His body is falling apart, as the Red tastes him, changes him. There's a flash of light, of life - the seed choses him. Its roots thread through him, giving him a moment of cohesion, of stability, of focus. The memory of being Simon. But he's still drowning. A voice. Someone is calling him. Above? In a body losing its ability to be, Simon kicks upward. Swimming, reaching, for the light. For that voice. A hand closes tightly around his own, and pulls. Up, up, out of the drowning sea of red he's drawn. Into the light. Into the warm embrace of another. With a gasp, Simon opens his eyes. Someone holds him, shaking. "Didn't think you'd ever wake up," they whisper through tears. Medical bay. The ship. Grace. Simon smiles. Safe.

The BloodyMary reference by the guy made me cackle, even when I was expecting it :D

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is learning the Eridian language slowly, making colorful notes for Rocky to understand. Most of it is gibberish, but Rocky appreciates the effort. It's like a pebble learning to thrum its very first tones. Hilarious but adorable. Simon sleeps still, hurt badly by the Taumoeba. It makes Rocky sad. It was enjoyable speaking with another in the better language. Simon spoke perfectly, if with discordance at times. But that was merely the wrongness within him strangling the notes. Grace stares over at where Simon sleeps often. The texture of the alien's face changes as they do. Rippling. Leaking. Always with the leaking. So messy. Rocky distracts Grace with thankfulness for saving Rocky. More leaking. Fuck. These beings need a hard carapace like Rocky's to weather their lives with more resilience. Rocky never leaks. True, Rocky may have smoked while saving Grace, but that was not the same thing. Unbelievable. Grace is leaking again. A hug perhaps? MISTAKE! MORE LEAKING.

Imagine Grace, Simon on Grace's ship. Armando is tending to Simon as Grace contains the Taumoeba, then rushes back to help. Armando plays defense with two arms, keeping Grace back as it performs triage, ascertains status - critical - and induces a coma. It retreats to recharge, giving Grace time to fuss over an unresponsive Simon. He's stable now. But Rocky's in trouble. The Taumoeba will eat through Rocky's ship, devouring the only source of propulsion. His friend will be stranded. Rocky will die. With limited fuel, it's either home…or Rocky. Grace nods, decision made. He enters the new course, and returns to Simon. "I'm sorry," he whispers. The Taumoeba heads home without him. The artificial days pass. He talks to a man who still sleeps. When the day comes, Grace spacewalks and hammers with dwindling hope. Until Rocky bounces to greet him. The hug is wonderfully long. Grace saves Rocky in return. Rolling onto the ship, Rocky finds Simon sleeping. Rocky snorts musically. "Still lazy."

Imagine Grace, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is sleeping, as Simon paces, running the math on their supplies. It doesn't math. They don't have enough for two to make the trip to Earth. As much as Simon wants to see a world that's still living and green, he doesn't really belong there. He doesn't really belong anywhere. Staring where Grace sleeps, Simon makes a choice. He chooses not to live so Grace can. The airlock will do. How long could he last this time? An alarm pulls him from finding out. CONTAMINANT Grace is by his side in moments. "Why're you at the airlock?" Simon's lie is obliterated. CONTAMINANT They rush to the lab. Grace yells about the taumoeba escaping, but Simon's not hearing right. The Red screams inside and out. CONTAMINANT Agony. Worse than the spacewalk! Grace rushes back and forth. Simon tries to catch him. Let him know. But he collapses. It's embarrassing. Death by Taumoeba. Sounds so… fucking… dumb…

Imagine Grace, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is finally sleeping after saying goodbye to Rocky and crying non-stop since. Tears aren't something Simon knows how to handle, but he tried. Now he can't sleep. He's too hungry. Rations need to be stretched out for the trip home. But… he's hungry. Nothing on the ship interests him. Something outside the ship does. The stars. Maybe he could reach out and grasp one. Take it into himself… …and snuff it. Simon's red eye smolders. The fangs shift along his cheek. "DEVOUR," says the voice of many. Simon jerks away from the porthole, heart racing. He stumbles to the sleeping quarters. Grace is snoring, but Simon can't wait. "Grace," he whispers, fighting what's taking over. "Mmm?" "Please," Simon murmurs, not know what else to say. Grace's gaze flicks from red eye to brown. Grasping Simon's hand, Grace pulls him onto the bunk. Wrapping himself around Simon like a blanket. The feeling passes. Simon relaxes. Together they sleep.

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace and Rocky make plans to go home. "Gunna miss you, buddy," Grace sighs. "You'll be okay?" Rocky bobs. "Grace Rocky save stars - Rocky goes home happy." After a geodesic hug, Grace finds Simon staring at the stars. "Ready?" Simon shrugs. "Not sure I fit in your world." "Sure you do. We just have to be careful about…" Grace gestures at his face. Would they hurt Simon? Treat him like an alien? Shaking his head, Grace smiles. "We'll make it work. I'll protect you." Simon smirks. "With what? Optimism?" "With logic and charm." Simon laughs, but it fades quickly. "I'm afraid." Grace nears. "Don't be. I know powerful people. They'll-" Simon shakes his head. He turns, exposing the red eye, the fanged maw… …and a new arm, formed of weaved tendrils, the fingers curling, sprouting. "I'm afraid of me," Simon whispers. Grace stares in wonder. "But I'm not," he says. Simon snorts, but looks suddenly hopeful. "Thought you were smart." Grace laughs.

Imagine Grace, Rocky, Simon on Grace's ship. Grace is craving pizza. Badly. "What the fuck is pizza?" Simon asks, as Grace hunts for possible ingredients. "Can Rocky make for Grace, question?" "Don't think I want to eat a xenonite pizza, Rocky. But thanks." Rocky bobs. "Add word!" Grace attempts to. "What would you call it though?" Simon shrugs. "Describe it. I'll translate." Grace smiles wistfully. "Pizza is… delicious, it's… amazing. It's so-" "Just think of a fucking pizza." "Oh, right!" Grace closes his eyes and imagines one right out of a wood stove, slathered with red sauce, mozzarella, sizzling pepperoni, sprinkled with more mozza- "Fuuuck. Now I want pizza," Simon whines. Rocky taps. "Rocky waiting." Simon describes pizza in complex Eridian chords, his red eye smoldering. "So what would you call that?" "Bad," Rocky says flatly. "Rocky call that bad. Messy. Rocky does not want. Disgust, disgust." Rocky rolls off. With a shared shrug, Grace and Simon ponder the possibility of ramen noodle peanut butter pizza.