Work Text:
The plains that surrounded the Ascended city were only plains by loose definition; they largely lacked plant life, or even dirt. They were closer to an endless granite expanse, that slowly smoothed into a grid-cut pattern which spread forever until it ran into another city. Above them, clouds hung in the air in geometric patterns, rarely shifting and yet often moving, refitting into each other to make new and arguably exciting shapes, although neither Silvaire nor Luis thought much of them. Their thoughts were both concentrated on the bright light that skimmed across that expanse, every night, without fail. To the both of them, it meant different things.
Silvaire saw a threat.
Luis saw a way out.
The two had agreed to go hunting for it finally, after trying their hardest to glean what it was from a distance and coming up short. It seemed piloted, created, but there was no real boundary between the natural and the artificial on this plain, where things were as equally fabricated as they were grown, cars with tires that stemmed from the pavement of parking lots they’d never moved from and buildings that breathed, on rare occasions. They went together, ostensibly for safety, but there was an unspoken suspicion both of them held of the other. Luis simply thought that if it was a way out, Silvaire’s shoot-first philosophy might ruin it, and Silvaire thought if it was a way out, Luis might just take it and leave the rest of them behind. Silvaire wanted to think better of Luis when it came to this, but there was a plain truth about Luis that wasn’t true for anyone else.
Luis had someone back on wherever they’d come from, and Luis was determined to see them again. It’d been clear since they arrived, and throughout the season there’d been tense moments where Luis seemed moments from breaking away for any chance at an exit from the Big Leagues. Xe hadn’t left yet, but an opportunity like this might’ve proved too irresistible, Silvaire feared.
She didn’t want Luis to leave, either, as much as she didn’t want anyone on the Crabs to leave. Despite the tragic (or “tragic”) circumstances of her joining the team, she’d become close to all of them, and understood intuitively that this was not the time to break up the band. There was more in store for the Crabs, she felt, and if just one of them was gone, it might mean bad news. Even if it was Luis, even if xe didn’t want to be there.
The trip was both long and short, the distance astounding and yet the travel time feeling like nothing at all. It might’ve been the simple monotony of the journey, or closer to what Luis feared, which was that this place was all alive and listening. That it felt short because they were wanted here, or being pushed here, for reasons unknown. Luis’ biggest fear was that this was going to be a lesson for xem, a painful one meant to dissuade hopes of escape. Xe was somewhat appalled that everyone else had given up on escape relatively quickly, making new lives and settling down as best they could when the season began. Luis could understand wanting to make the best of a bad situation- xe had a lot of experience there- but there was getting comfortable, and there was submission. And all xe saw was the latter.
The silence was eventually broken between the two as they climbed to the top of a slight hill, a bump in the geometric landscape. The light was before the two of them now, a mile away at most. It had settled onto the ground, a discernible if bright object, silvery and dish-shaped with a bowl-like structure on top. It looked big, and Silvaire pulled out half a binocular, a relic she’d kept from her days before Blaseball, to look closer, until Luis broke the silence to add “I have HD eyes, Silvaire. You don’t need that.”
“Fine. Just tell me what ya see, alright?” Silvaire replied.
“Well, there’s a UFO over there, which you can probably tell from here. Don’t see a way in, or anything outside of it. Not a lot of cover, if you were planning to sneak up… which means, we might wanna go with the distraction plan.” Luis replied, a smile on xer face.
“You sure?” Silvaire asked, “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to uh, shoot these guys. Assuming they’re aliens and all that.”
“I’ve got two pointy teeth for a reaaason, Silvaire. Don’t worry about it.” came Luis’ reply, “You ready, pardner?”
“Fine. Let’s do this.” Silvaire’s curt reply came, as she crouched low on the hill.
Luis nodded, and moved closer. Luis’ body flashed a variety of colors, shape oscillating like a lava lamp winamp visualizer. Silvaire crept forwards as Luis rushed, staying in the dark spots of the ascendant night, old memories of grave standoffs creeping towards the front of her brain at an inopportune time. Bullets whizzing by her head, dusty breezes over fields of death. Their respective marches brought them right up to the craft soon enough, with seemingly no response from it.
“Aw. I was hoping that lightshow wasn’t gonna go to waste.” Luis said, regaining xer shape. “You want me to try hacking this thing?”
“Luis, I dunno. Maybe this ain’t the thing we’re figuring it is, and maybe we oughta just leave it alone.” Silvaire replied, pistol now drawn. “No telling what touching it’d do, much less you, interfacing with it? Networking? Whatever the hell the word is.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Silvaire.” Luis replied, before pressing xer hand against the underbelly of the ship, to no response.
“Well, are you hackin’ it or what?” Silvaire asked after a few minutes.
“Uh.” came Luis' reply, as a hatch swung open on the other side of the craft.
Two figures stepped out, chattering in frequencies that hurt Silvaire’s ears, as well as Luis’ ears somehow. They strode out a few yards, kicking a ball between the two of them with long, jelly-like legs. Seizing the moment, Luis ran into the craft, Silvaire hurriedly following behind xem. The interior of the craft was somewhat underwhelming, looking typical if only distinct for its Sloccer decoration, a sport forbidden to the Immaterial Plane. Luis quickly pressed on the door button, which was in a fairly obvious place. Xe then dashed over to the control panels, throwing an arm into them before seizing and then wiggling, in a holographic trance. For her part, Silvaire was getting ready to shoot like she’d never shot before, which was an expression she didn’t really get. To her mind, shooting like that meant you’d be shooting awfully, but the expression was what it was and her guns and aim were what they were.
She was startled when the craft jerked up, taking to the sky for a moment before jerking back down.
“Luis! What the hell are ya doing?” Silvaire cried out, bracing against one of the atypically typical seats in the craft’s cockpit.
“Calm down, I’m just figuring out how to work this thing… Silvaire, we might be able to go home.” Luis said, xer voice dropping low towards the end, “I mean, it might just be us, but we could send for help! We could-”
“Luis, I’ll fire a goddamn hailstorm into that engine lookin’ thingie in the back if you so much as try and leave the team behind.” came Silvaire’s fury-chilled reply, “I ain’t against trying to escape, but we aren’t gonna do it alone and leave everyone else for some divine retribution, alright?”
“Jesus Chrilst, Silvaire, I was just saying we could. We’re not going to if you don’t want to.” Luis replied, getting the ship up to a steady hover about two stories off the stoney ground. “I mean, I could let you out first, and-”
“No. We’re only leaving if we’re all leaving, Luis. Now, can you fly this thing into the city?” Silvaire said.
“Uh. I can try.” Luis replied, sheepishly.
“Then try. We don’t got all night.” Silvaire said.
The craft ran out of fuel about half-way back, and after an emergency landing, the rest of the team helped drag it into Pedro’s yard, for whatever repairs could be done. Luis nor Silvaire spoke much of the night, but there was a clear distance between the two that neither would directly deny. Luis knew the team needed xem, but Luis was unsure of how much xe needed the team. The Crabs were a lot of things to Luis, of course, but they weren’t the one thing that mattered most to xem.
And, xe feared, they never would be.