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For the third time this evening, Nastya watches the lifeless body of First Mate Jonny D’Ville come careening in, then out of her view. She doesn't bother watching for the landing, but the disgusting thump and the subsequent cheering are enough to fill in the gaps as she mentally reminds herself to give Brian a solid “I told you so”-ing for saying there'd be no mess this time. Ashes seems particularly pleased by this development, laughing raucously and turning to the table at large with a, “Well, well, well so who owes me now? I can't believe you really thought he’d ‘learn from his mistakes’.” Immediately follows a chorus of disgruntled mumbling and various “I should've known”-s for even attempting to bet against Ashes at something.
Either way, its game night on the Aurora, and including the Monopoly money now paper-mashéd to the walls by gore this is… usually how it goes. As is also usually how it goes, Nastya has once again found herself far in the corner, sitting on the couch, a safe 4 meters away.
It's not like Nastya doesn't like being with the rest of the crew, or even really that she doesn't like board game night. She loves these dumbasses more than anything else despite the evidence to the contrary that an outsider might see; i.e, Jonny’s corpse laying not 15 feet away. It's just.... it's hard for her to fully articulate.
She knows her relationship with the crew as a collective is different than the others have. She just doesn't know why or how, really. It's never been a bad thing, at least to the others, it's never been something they confronted her about. Never any "Nastya Rasputina, you MUST socialize tonight” like she’d been faced with as a child. Sometimes, she feels like the crew understands her better than even she does. In their own ways, they were always so quick to affirm Nastya that really, she didn't need to participate if she didn't want to, or of course she could stay on the ship while we go exploring. When she was still new to the crew she’d absolutely detested how grotesquely accommodating it felt and sometimes that was still the case, maybe more than not but she was coming to understand that it could simply be their caring for her.
Still though, it frustrates her immensely and no matter how hard she tries, she can't help but fixate on how much of an outsider to the group she must look. Why does she so often find herself in a weird twilight zone between being together and separate from the crew when they are all happily together?
A moment later, a colossal crash interrupts Nastya’s ponderings and against her better judgment she looks over to survey the game. As it turns out Jonny had just woken up, and had evidently immediately charged towards the game table to tackle Ashes to the floor, producing the crash. Nastya’s always been somewhat baffled by how easily these things come to them, especially Jonny as the two quickly dissolve into a wrestling heap of chaos, leaving her to sit back and smile fondly at their antics. One would have thought that after millenia of surfing the stars with no mortal life expectancy you would have lost most of the often irrational fear of looking stupid, a statement that understandably seems true. And, Maybe for Jonny or Marius who had very little self consciousness to begin with it is, but for the engineer? Less so.
Even after living with these buffoons for many times her natural lifespan, and bearing parts of herself to them that she had to no one else, Nastya still didnt know how they all seemed to be able to be so silly and so profoundly unabashed. Even Ivy, who would usually prefer being left in the company of her myriad books than any living person seemed to be able to jump into Raph's or Marius's bits so easily adding her own flair of dry humor like it was the most natural thing in the world. Again, it's not that she never did any of these things, or that she didn't like it to begin with, she just doesn't understand what made it look so goddamn easy for the rest of them!
The engineer sighs explosively and sinks further into the couch cushions. God, what an unproductively introspective mood she's in tonight, she thinks, not at all charitably.
Back at the game, by some small miracle, everyone's calmed down some now—Jonny's even made it into a chair—and laughter and the clacking of dice drifts through the air once again. The aging lights in the communal living space diffuse through the clouds of cigarette smoke and cast the scene at the table in a warm, homely glow. Either by coincidence or the strange forces of narrative influence that seem to follow them around, Nastya finds herself sitting just at the edge of the hazy ring of light, feeling both so far away and so close to their game, with the rest of the room sitting in muted darkness.
As if sensing her gloom, Jonny turns and gives her a little grin that says "Wish you were the one to fling me halfway across the room? You're missing out." Nastya smiles back, trying not to laugh as she sees TS deftly snatch a 500 from under the first mate's nose. Jonny turns back to the table, left to wonder why Brian just gave the Soldier a high five and mysteriously has an extra 500. Guess someone must’ve paid rent, he thinks.
Over in Nastya’s corner, now more within the circle of light than outside it, everything feels a little bit better but the longing is still there, lurking on the edges of her mind.
A week after board game night, which had seen TS and Brian winning with a surprise merging of their wealth, much to the chagrin of any of the original rules, Nastya finds herself sitting alone in her quarters. Usually when anywhere on the ship she’d say she was never truly alone, kept company by Aurora’s constant presence, but today she was. Something was up with Aurora’s comms, nothing that concerned either of them hugely, but a system diagnostic had to be run as despite her expertise, Nastya wasn’t quite sure what the issue was. But, to run the program that she had made to detect any problems in her ship’s programing or mechanics, Aurora, the AI, the soul, had to be away for a little while, just a few hours.
Suffice it to say, Nastya is at a bit of a loose end, as she has been for the past week, really. She’s sitting cross legged on her bed, running her hands across the clean, rarely used sheets and staring up at the ceiling. The room, despite it being hers, feels foreign from all the hours spent in the vents and ducts and deepest crevices of Aurora, rather than in her own birth.
Presently, she’s been spending the past half an hour mulling over her feelings of detachment during last week’s board game night. It's ultimately just a self pitying and overthinking line of thought, and she knows it, but it still frustrates her endlessly. Ugh. It's not even a new issue! Nastya’s known she’s kind of shit with people, especially in groups her whole life! Why cant she just take what she has—her loving if insane friends, and the strange and lovely relationships she has with said friends—and be happy with it?
Now more lonely and annoyed with herself, Nastya’s just about to try to sleep away the next few hours to pass the time when a thundering of boots comes zooming down the hall just outside her birth.
For a moment Nastya debates sticking her head out the door and giving whoever it was a good talking to, but she decides against it. The footfalls have already almost faded away and if she’s being honest, despite her usual stubborn snark, she really doesnt feel like getting in any arguments at the moment. Unfortunately, the universe seems to have other ideas and just when she thinks the mystery runners have gone they come crashing back past her door again and again, now accompanied with raucous shouts and hoots. Nastya stoically lets this go on for another five minutes before it becomes clear that there will be no peace for her without some intervention.
Swinging her door open and rolling up her sleeves Nastya steps into the hallway, expecting to find Jonny and Tim squabbling over something the other had stolen. Instead the second she steps through the doorway Raphaella la Cognizi of all people bowls her over, coming around the corner and colliding with her at speeds that would cause any mortal serious damage. Rather than needing immediate medical attention though, both just fall to the floor in a heap. Nastya manages to right herself first and turns to Raphaella who's still dusting herself off. Just as she’s getting ready to deliver her carefully planned admonishments for possibly disrupting Aurora’s system diagnostic (and Nastya’s sleep) Raph beats her to it.
“Oh my god I am so sorry about that! You're practically never in your birth so I didn’t think we’d be disturbing anyone…,” Raph trails off, giving Nastya her best puppy dog eyes. Nastya winces at how obvious it must be that she spends no time in the spaces that are actually meant for her. She doesn't know why she’s ashamed of it, but she is.
“Ah fuck it, It’s fine. Just try to be more careful, I guess. I'm running some programs to see what's up with Aurora’s comms so I’d really appreciate it if you didn't disturb them doing… whatever it is you're doing,” Nastya says, without much of her usual harsh-worded stubbornness.
The doctor flashes her a grin. “We’re running an experiment! These are the newest prototype for the greaves of an ability enhancing exoskeleton I'm working on.” She displays her science clad legs with a flourish. Nastya nods appraisingly. She has to admit, for a prototype, the craftsmanship is quite good, especially for someone who doesn't specialize in mechanics.
“But of course,” Raph continues, “We’ll be more careful, and keep out of your hair too.”
“Great, I can't say I'm in a mood today to argue. I'm just grateful it wasn't Jonny getting a bit too trigger happy and chasing someone all around like I was expecting. That asshat…”
Raph snorts. “Well, I'm glad I was a slightly more pleasant surprise at least.” She pauses before her eyes light at some new idea. Nastya braces herself. “Hey! Y’know… I doubt you have much to do while all those programs are running, sooo how do you feel about helping me out? Just run about a bit, it'll be fun!”
Nastya considers, which is to say she considers all the excuses she could make to not do this. “Sorry but no, I’ve got to keep an eye on the diagnostics I'm running for ‘Aura right now.”
“Hmmm are you sure? You're never in your room unless you're really bored. Besides, it would be really super helpful actually to cover all my bases, as you have such a high mass—with your blood and all.”
Nastya sighs. “Fine, you've got me Doc,” She pauses to let Raph punch the air, “One more thing though, you kept saying ‘we’ earlier, is someone else about to come down here at mach ten and trample us into the floor?”
“Oh! TS has been helping me test these too, it's been a real help. We thought it would be good to see how they work with its more doll-like joints. Not sure where it is right now though… Ah it's probably fine. Here! I'll take you back to the lab so we can get you suited up.”
With that Raphaella grabs Nastya’s hand and whisks her away down the halls of The Aurora to the ship's lab. On the way, they pick up the Toy Soldier from where it had gotten distracted by a stray octokitten that it had very nearly run into and had stopped to make sure the creature was alright. Fortunately, it was. Eventually though the three traipse their way down to the lab where, apparently, it's time for Nastya to get ‘suited up’.
Raph seats her down at the edge of an unused gurney and idly chatters to herself and Nastya as she fits her with the greaves. Once she’s done she stands up with a flourish and says, “So! Tell me what you think, how do they feel?,” directing her gaze to a mirror across the room.
Nastya’s first thought as she looks at her reflection is that she looks like a complete idiot. The prototype exo-greaves are spray painted a bright pink to track wear and they bunch up her wide work pants underneath them, managing to make her look like all in all, an absolute dumbass. They’re not uncomfortable, to Raphs credit, but god does she feel so stupid. Why does she even care about this? Its not like Raph or TS look dashing, its an inherently function based—prototype—item for fucks sake. Nastya shakes her head to clear it, telling herself that she’s known the others for literal centuries, they do not care at all how she looks.
“I mean, you could have come to me for the welding,” she says, “but I don't want to tear them off my legs immediately, so that's something.”
Raph nods and grins reassuringly at her, “Well, ready for the real fun? Ready to take them for a test drive?” Nastya smiles despite herself.
“Sure. You know what Tim says, in for a penny, in for a pound.”
- - -
If Nastya’s being honest, the testing goes surprisingly well. She’s able to let herself uncoil from the strange tense stupor she’s been in in a way that she hasn't been able to for ages. And, she hesitates to say it, but she’s on the verge of labeling the whole experience as fun. The combination of the structured experimenting and Raph’s diligent note taking mixed with just letting herself fuck around with interesting technology makes something so silly that she would normally detest actually enjoyable.
Unfortunately, Nastya also finds herself entirely vexed by her reaction. Why was she so okay with this when she’d been sitting so near yet distant during board game night, and other group pastimes like it? She understands people are complex, and fallible and all that but come on, they’re barely human anyways- why does she have to deal with this squishy human bullshit? It's not like any of the others seem to struggle with it. At least, no one needs to assure them that it's fine to be an antisocial misanthrope and that said antisocial misanthrope shouldn't feel bad about it.
In a bit of a state, she trudges down to check on the main control panel of the ship, where she could check the progress of the diagnostic. Despite keeping track of almost every passing minute, Nastya still smiles and feels a sense of relief to see there are only 15 minutes left on the progress bar. Aurora would have something helpful to say, the engineer was sure of that. She always did, even if it was a little selfish of Nastya to immediately saddle her with her issues as soon as she got back.
By the time the final 15 minutes are up, Nastya has gotten herself situated in one of her favorite vents. She sits there quietly, gently stroking the bundle of wires running along the top of the vent as she waits for Aurora to come back online. After a few seconds, she feels a rumble as the ship’s AI returns. Nastya can't help but smile.
“Hey Aurora,” She says into the air around her.
“Hello, Nastya. Did your programs glean anything?”
“Ah, I haven't checked them yet actually,” She pauses, “I will though, very soon. It’d be good to get this all fixed for the moment.”
“Of course.” A moment of silence passes and Nastya relishes how easy it is to talk to and be around Aurora. Another beat. “Is something the matter, my dear?”
She sighs. “Nothing new. Just wish I was better at people sometimes, is all.” Thats the understatement of a century, but it does feel good to at least talk to someone about it, especially someone like Aurora.
“Oh Nastya… they love you, you know that.”
“I know. Ugh, I know. It just seems so much easier for them? I don’t know, I thought I was over getting so hung up on this,” She admits.
“I doubt it’ll help you much, but you know the rest of the crew does not glide through every situation effortlessly either.” Nastya knows this is objectively correct.
“You know how I feel about this, I just hate how messy and inconsistent I am with them, with so many things.” A soft, warm rumble passes through the walls of the vent and through her. It's so easy to take comfort in Aurora, she thinks.
“You do the best you can, no one expects you to be a perfect machine,” Aurora chuckles lightly, sending flits of electricity dancing under Nastya’s fingers, “that's for me to be.”
“Yeah but-” She cuts herself off before she can continue down whatever train of thought was about to be unleashed. “No, no, you're right.” ‘Aura chuckles again, this time with a slight sense of smugness. “Fuck, I love you. You know that?
“Of course I do. I love you too, Nastya.”
Wiping away the stray tears that definitely weren't rolling down her cheeks she says “Well, I better go see if we know what's up with your comms now, yeah? I’d really like to get in there and actually get something fixed.”
“Ever the productive one, aren't you?” The smile is audible in Aurora’s voice,” Thank you though, you have my infinite gratitude—as always.”
With that, Nastya says a brief goodbye and presses a light kiss to the wall before deftly climbing down to do what she does best.
- - -
Nastya has a lightness in her step as she makes her way down to the cockpit where most of the comms infrastructure is located when she runs into the first mate. He’s leaning on the wall and checking his nails like he just happened to end up here, but the screeching of boots coming to a halt that Nastya had heard coming around the corner tells another story. She approaches, waiting for him to say something first.
“Hey there Nas’, …Funny seeing you here!”
“Oh, hi Jonny,” She says somewhat warily, “Can I help you with something…?”
“What? Where’d you get that idea?” He laughs like he didn't just come skidding around this corner and into Nastya’s path, just in time to pull out his ‘cool’ pose.
She raises an eyebrow. “Just your incredibly subtle lurking. But really, what's up?”
“Ah nothing, you know what, never mind. I don’t-”
“Oh don't start, just say what you were going to say,” Nastya cuts him off. She has half an idea where this is going and she’s incredibly grateful that she’d been able to have a moment with Aurora before running into him.
“So ah, the other week, at board game night and then after it- I dunno, you just seemed kinda off?” He pauses awkwardly. “I know you don't like us seeming like we're being all ‘careful’ with you but c’mon, id feel like a right piece of shit if I didn't do nothing.”
“Hah!” Nastya barks out a light laugh.
“Hey, don't laugh! Im tryna be nice, asshole.”
“No, you're actually right on this one—as rarely as I say that,” She pauses, “I don’t know, something just got me in a bit of a funk, I guess. I'm fine though. It's fine.” She says. Not the whole story, but close enough.
“Suuure you're “fine”. Can't say I was expecting you to be actually forthcoming with that though.” Nastya herself is too. “Uh ...Is there anything I can do? Or have you got it all figured out like usual.”
She thinks for a moment. “Something like that. I think I'm getting somewhere, at least.”
“Feel better after talking to your girlfriend about it?” Jonny teases. Nastya punches him lightly in the arm before stepping quickly out of the way of his attempted rebuttal.
She snorts. “Indeed I have. Now, it's there anything else for me other than trying to hit me back with your tiny arms?”
“Hey! You know I'm not good with trying to be nice, ‘n do feelings and shit. I'm making an effort here!” Jonny replies, indignant. Nastya smiles. For all her teasing, she is genuinely grateful for his checking in. Doubly so because she knows he really has made an effort to go against his usual brash aloofness.
“No, I'm sorry, thanks for checking in,” He gives her a look like he doesn't really believe her. “No really, thank you. It's nice.” Jonny smiles smugly at this admittance, the bastard. Just as Nastya is about to turn he grabs her arm.
Looking her in the eyes he says, “Hey- you're part of the crew, you know that? You're with us, all of us, whether you like it or not.”
Nastya looks back at him and oh, how lucky she feels. “Yeah, I know Jonny. I know,” she replies softly.