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Everything stopped. It was black for a while. Eventually, they would reform back on the ship. They hoped so, at least. The thing was: everything stopped, yes, they were trapped, yes, they were literally stone statues, yes, but they were still them. They could feel the very them-ness mixed with the rigid stone in a way they could never describe, if they ever would be able to explain.
(Years later, as Merle’s arm turned to crystal, if there weren’t more pressing things to worry about, he’d wonder why the feeling was so familiar. Even later, Magnus would feel a similar inkling as a mannequin, but somehow know it was a terrible fate but could be much, much worse.)
The main thing was this: the them-ness could still think. These thoughts weren’t like the dreams of a deep sleep or even a coma. These thoughts were nothing like the running dialogue they were used to as they went about their millions of days they had existed so far. They were slow, plodding things. They couldn’t tell time. Or really anything. The stone didn’t feel or see or do anything but be them. But with this limited view, the thoughts seemed days apart. When they finally were thought, they landed. They dropped into their minds. They would be simple, heavy, quick. These thoughts left the them-ness the closest they could get to exhausted in that form.
Lucretia wouldn’t find about their fate until two months into that year as she spied on one of the search parties that hunted her.
~~~~~
Captain Davenport’s thoughts were a seesaw. One thought would be so full of anger at the situation, anger towards the hunger, anger at the crew, anger at himself. But anger wasn’t really the right word; their jury, judge, and executioner gave him a better word. Every other thought was wrath, plain and simple. Then the next thought would slam into the seesaw sending the other side swinging up. And those next thoughts were of deep shame. He was doing exactly what had damned him and his crew to that frozen fate by being so wrathful.
But wasn’t he right before? Why can’t he be angry? He set out with a crew of seven lives on his shoulders. By now the count was up to billions. It was too much to handle sometimes.
But he’d failed them, hadn’t he? What kind of leader can’t control their anger?
And so on for most of the year. By the end the violent swing of the seesaw had slowed as more and more of the thoughts fell toward shame and he made up his mind to shove his rage down deep inside him.
~~~~~
Lucretia took several deep breaths trying to calm her nerves. She was writing, but her hands shook so much that it was more out of comfort than actual documentation. Everyone was gone and the ship was smoking. Her hands were smudged with equal parts oil and ink so she rubbed her eyes on her red robe that had burned to more of a waistcoat at this point. She knew she’d have to do something. The people that took her friends would come for her. It was just simple logic that she wasn’t safe. And she was alone.
No matter how scattered her thoughts were, she always came back to the thought that she was alone. She’d been alone before, even on this trip she’d been alone. But it was different now. She wasn’t alone on her terms. Her friends had been taken from her and, if she was using that same simple, honest logic, they were probably dead. She had to survive now, if she didn’t, they’d all be dead permanently and then so would all of everyone in existence. She didn’t just have seven lives on her shoulders, she had billions.
Her breathing turned back and forth from shallow to heavy like a seesaw. How did Captain Davenport do it? He lead them valiantly through each reality. He steered the ship in and out of danger while keeping cool. She remembered speaking with him about how the ship worked after twenty years or so for her notes. He didn’t speak completely technically about it. He went in and out of metaphors and tech talk that flowed in and out and, even better, read well. He said the ship needed complete cool or else he wouldn’t be able to see the thrusters straight. He couldn’t hold anything back or else while he flew the emotions would spill out into it’s flight.
Lucretia closed her notebooks and took another deep breath and pushed her hair back, sticking it back with the globs of oil on her hands. And she let herself get so extremely angry. She had the right to be pissed after all. This sucked! How dare those people take her friends and hurt them? She was going to survive and save them. She let herself feel her anger. Well, anger really wasn’t the right word. She was feeling passion.
~~~~~
Magnus thoughts were a result of being the first. The others could not see or feel but they knew each other’s fate. Magnus’ first thought was that he was stone. The next thought was about how stupid he was to have run in like that. The rest of his thoughts were simple after that. They were the same each time after all: Oh God, what happened to my friends I didn’t protect them.
It didn’t deviate in the slightest the whole year. However, each time it hit him harder than the last. After all, anything could have happened to them. And it could be his fault. Maybe he doomed the trial and they were all sentenced to painful torture or death. What if they found Lucretia and the ship and decided to kill her too because obviously their crew can’t be trusted? He was hired as a guard, a protector. Instead he threw himself into a fire without thinking. He’d said his bullheadedness and inclination to fight was bravery. It seemed like bullshit from the perspective of stone.
~~~~~
Lucretia was doing her best to be incredibly careful. The crew that had been trailing her for the first couple weeks was a few rocky formations away. They would certainly find her in the next few minutes. Her shoes were already pretty worn and she’d been cut on the jagged edges of this rocky place they chased her to. More of her robe had been torn away to stop the bleeding but she’d already left a pretty clear trail for them to follow. She gripped the wooden walking stick in her hands tighter until it burned. The pain was hard to bear but helped her think, or so she thought, instead her thoughts wandered to the stick’s carver.
Magnus had started branching out from ducks. The walking stick was a crude first attempt at something different. He gave it to her as a present as she often watched him carve as he wanted to do it in front of the little jellyfish, or Fischer, who lived in her room. Oh God what had happened to Fischer? She returned to the moment. She had to get back to the ship to protect it. How did Magnus do it? He went into literally universe destroying danger for all of them. His instincts of protection were so selfless, she’d always admired that friendly courage. Courage that wanted desperately to help everyone out. If he could do it, so could she. She could be just as brave. She loosened her grip on the staff but held it differently, like it had both the weights of a sword and a shield. She wasn’t going to wait for them to come to her. She was going to rush to them.
~~~~~
Barry’s thoughts, even as slow and tedious as they were in that form, were probably the closest to frantic as anyone could get in that state. He was trying to work out how the magic worked and thus how he could reverse it. He went over theories both scientific and magical. Each new thought was another piece in a puzzle to understand that which he’d never be able to. Transmutation was Taako’s field not his, but he’d read Asimov’s text on it and the footnotes in Shelly’s study on basilisk biology had to have the answer that would get them all out of this mess. What further hindered his futile inner research was the thoughts that popped up every once and awhile and delayed the thoughts that were actually trying to solve something. These interjections of his own were harder to hear than theory. They were all worries about his friends and Lup and was Lucretia okay? They were people thoughts not scientist thoughts. People are allowed to worry and fret in such a desperate position. But he tried to keep those thoughts away for most of the year so he could just focus. But soon they crept back in and turned against him.
Hadn’t that weird and terrible trial accused him of being too introverted? They said one of his greatest sins was that he kept himself away from other people. And here he was, punished for being guilty of keeping people at a distance and what had he chosen to spend his time doing? He had been pushing his thoughts of the people he loved as far from his being mixed with stone as he could. It was harder to think about research after that.
~~~~~
Lucretia needed information. She’d gained a lot in the past two months about the world they landed on. It hurt when she remembered that usually discovering more about a plane was something she’d always done with pleasure in the past. Now it was out of brutal necessity. She’d found out about her friends’ fate as stone and almost threw up if not for how close to danger she was. She’d also learned of the cruel court system but still didn’t have specifics, but she didn’t think she really wanted any. What she really needed was information about the schedule the guards were on. She could’ve spent weeks watching them from the shadows and trying to work out patterns but that was time she didn’t have.
Luckily for her, the court system of “turn people to stone for not being completely pure” wasn’t popular with those who lived like her, hiding in the outskirts just trying to survive. She’d found a carefully hidden camp of a few of these outlaws, noting their disguise techniques for later. They had to constantly move so she’d be alone again before she could stop to breathe. She needed information but, as silly as it seemed to her, she was nervous. She’d always had been introverted and careful to trust. But that didn’t have to stop her, it never stopped Barry. He’d been shy too. In the early days, often they would eat or sit together in silence. Mutually understanding and relating about how hard it was to talk with their new shipmates. But she also watched him break out of his shell as they all got closer. It was inspiring to her and made her want to try harder to relate to them too. She thought of Barry Bluejeans as she spoke with the vagabonds and got exactly what she needed.
~~~~~~
Taako spent a lot of his initial thoughts vaguely cursing at things, not anyone or anything specific, just things. Because this was bullshit right? His defense was fucking flawless. He threw that chuck of wisdom at those dumb statue people right off the dome. It wasn’t even copied from anyone, it was a Taako original. He did try to cheat with that invisible spell but like, it didn’t actually work so it didn’t really count as cheating. He didn’t do anything wrong. Well. He had told those dicks about Lucretia. He was just trying to beat their game. Those dicks wanted them to be honest, so be it. He was just doing his best to get on their good side so they didn’t end up statue people? Was he wrong to do that? He tried to cheat and then he tried to play the game and nothing fucking worked. The system was stupid. How could they do this to him? He was Taako, y’know, from T.V.? And all his friends were stone too so like that fucking sucks. Did he even contribute anything to that trial or the mission since his kickass answer did fuck all? It didn’t seem like it. Was there even a point of not being here besides the fact that no one else would take him?
~~~~~~~~
Lucretia licked her thumb and scrubbed away the dirt on the oblong, violet fruit she gathered earlier. She kept moving as she ate. It had taken a couple weeks to get used to constantly moving during meals. Now, well it didn’t compare to the magnificent feast Taako had made just a cycle before, but it was becoming familiar, even a comfort. She was struggling to remember what he’d made then, were there potatoes? She watched him cook it but she had a hard time remembering it all, that’s why she took detailed notes. He changed ingredients up constantly with his incredible transmutation talent. Since she was watching, he even put on a little show. She specifically asked him to narrate his process like the T.V. chefs back in their home reality and he happily did so with a truly Taako flair. He tossed potatoes in the air and when they landed in the pan they were cut and actually sweet potatoes. So there were potatoes, she thought trying to imagine the taste as she bit down on the bitter purple fruit.
She’d had it a couple days in a row now so she tried to imagine another one of Taako’s dishes each time to fake variety.
Halfway through her quick meal she stopped in her tracks. She was more tuned into her surroundings and someone was following her. They were slowly trying to get behind her. She allowed herself to smile. A fight with a few dirty tricks would do the trick, she thought. Maybe years ago she would’ve tried to confront her attempted attacker but, as Takko said as he literally changed lemons into lemonade and as he saved her from a lying merchant that tried to send her to prison, it’s not cheating if it works.
~~~~~~~~~
Lup was going stir crazy as a statue. She was the most upset at her present situation, she hated being so still all the time. She loved running and fighting and just living. Of course the others did too but she couldn’t be distracted by the plodding thoughts as they were so often about how see wished she could just stretch! Her panicked thoughts of never being able to move again mixed with thoughts of all those flaws the stupid jury tried to push on her. Like she owned all that. She would do it again even if she had to be trapped here like this. She earned her wrath, greed, and especially her pride. They couldn’t take those away even as a statue. She even began to think especially wrathful and greedy thoughts out of spite which in itself counted as bonus points. After awhile the novelty of thinking such things wore off as more and more turned to desperate wishes to be free.
Was she too impulsive? A thought wondered out of the blue after what felt like thousands of years of her being still. Did she not take this mission seriously enough? She loved having fun. She loved playing pranks. She loved loving. The threat of the Hunger was very real and she thought she treated it with the proper weight. She just always made room for living life. Was that a mistake? She had laughed as she told the statues she was guilty and they convicted her. She wouldn’t take it back, even now but, her thoughts returned more reserved. Should she have been more focused on getting them out of there? If they got out of here, and damn her if she wouldn’t get out and get those fifteen dollars, she had to start taking things more seriously and try to think of a solution so she’d never be trapped like this ever again.
~~~~~
Lucretia hummed softly, a little off key and trembling as she fixed the crack in Fischer’s tank. Fischer's light blinked softly at her as it mimicked her soft song. It was a drinking song Lup taught her the night they went out for pre-trip drinks over sixty years ago now. Lucretia was sure she’d messed up a few cords and had forgotten how the end of the verses sounded but she made up what she didn’t know and it seemed to settle Fischer. She wiped her hands off on her red robe and hummed goodbye to Fischer, she had so much work to do.
The ship wasn’t destroyed but it wasn’t functioning. It felt like an important distinction to her. She canvassed the ship making notes of all the damage. Huge parts of the side were destroyed and could not be inter-planer worthy. Most of the wiring was torn up in the bridge, she looked at the multi-colored copper strands, shocking herself a little as she tried to make sense of it. Lucretia had survived almost eight months by herself constantly hunted. But repairing the ship was the slowest going and her hardest challenge yet. She found herself staying awake days and waking up after crashing underneath the Starblaster’s console. She was teaching herself advanced mechanics and trying to remember to eat. Fischer hummed songs and blinked sadly whenever she passed by her room but she couldn’t stop now. The year would be over before she knew it so she had to keep working. The Hunger was coming.
She dug through their store rooms of all the materials they had gathered that had been scattered and cluttered by the crash. She found some nice metal sheets for the siding and found junk to use as insulation. She would be able to apologize to Magnus about stealing a couple of pillows from his pile of thirty, it only seemed fair. She dug through items once carefully collected, trying to keep the memories from knocking her out. Through the pile she noticed something a bright, lime green. Curious, she pulled on it and turned her head in shock. It was a watergun, a Super Soaker™ 3000 sitting among the rubble. Lup had bought it in a reality where the whole world was one large mall. She and Lucretia stopped at a water gun mega store. Lucretia could feel the pure joy radiating off of Lup. When Lucretia agreed to go with her Lup burst into the store with eager excitement and finally settled on the lime green one with double water barrels. She hadn’t used it yet, she explained to Lucretia that she was saving it for a really good day. As Lucretia turned over the cheap plastic toy in her hand she started to laugh. She laughed so hard she started to cry. Lup was right, it would be the perfect thing to make a day a much better day.
~~~~~
Merle was stone and his first thought considered how dull this would be if he didn’t put this time to good use. Then he remembered how he spent a whole year learning meditative shit. He was practically an expert. It started out boring as heck back there too but it had it’s own kind of peace that made it all worth it. He thought he might hate it but turned out to give him a kind of inner strength and a better connection to Pan. So with all the thoughts after this realization Merle decided to mediate. He allowed the thoughts to drop like they did, but they landed in a smooth pool that gently carried the thoughts to rest.
He abruptly interrupted a long meditation stretch to think about how Lucretia was doing. His stone form couldn’t move of course, but if someone had been watching his statue form, they would have thought he was suddenly beaming. She had it handled. He thanked Pan that it was her he had to put all his trust in because, well, she was going to do it.
With that settled he went back to meditation.
~~~~~
Lucretia pulled back on the Starblaster’s helm and pulled the right levers and pushed the right buttons. Well, she hoped they were the right ones. No one ever taught her how to fly. It wasn’t often that Captain Davenport died so while most of the others had a good enough grasp on how to make it out of a plane if needed, no one ever thought Lucretia needed to be trained too. The possibility of everyone else dying was so foreign then. She tried to ignore the swirling dark mass that crashed into the plane that’d been a hell for a full year. She kept pulling back on the helm and kept the tears from falling. Not until they were all safe.
As her friends’ statute selves were smashed to pieces as hell was destroyed, Lucretia offered a prayer to Pan. Couldn’t hurt right? Merle had faith in Pan so maybe Pan would help her out a little.
“I have complete faith in you Lucretia.”
She gasped at the first voice to reach out to her on this mission. A voice she hadn’t heard in a whole year. Maybe she imagined it, but fuck that.
Her voice was cracked from disuse, she spent months talking less and less as she focused on repairs until she stopped talking entirely, she didn’t hold it back now, “I did it Merle. I fucking did it. I fucking did it!” She repeated it over and over as she pushed through to the next plane leaving the hunger in the dust. It was hard to hear her shouts over the sound of her friends being woven back together. She kept shouting as she was embraced by the pure white light and returned to the place she always did.
She looked at all of them catch their breath as she slid down onto the floor, “I fucking made it.” She said trembling still. She did it.
She became a leader, a passionate, brave, out of her shell, crafty, just serious enough, leader who believed in herself. After all, she learned from the best.
The rest found themselves getting antsy standing still for too long after that.