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Your eyes sting with static from staring at the foundry interface aboard your orbiter. No matter how often you attempted to organize your vast (and still growing) wealth of materials, there never seemed to be an end to the task in sight.
There was a meditative value in it, of course - something simple, mechanical, to root yourself in while slowly waking for the day - until the blurriness from the fleet of holographic screens started to ache worse than Transference Static. Between the quietly beeping buttons and sparking pistons and torches within the machine, you picked up on a soft thrumming noise pulsing around you.
“Morning Ordis.”
“Salutations, Drifter. Ordis has completed routine morning verification of your orbiter's internal security and structural systems, and is pleased to report that everything is in perfect condition.”
“Thank you as always for your continued and unwavering service,” you reply warmly, smiling when he buzzes and drifts higher.
“It is my pleasure. I would also like to inform you that you've received an inbox notification on your Kinematic Instant Messaging terminal from username ‘Salem’. Ordis is capable of manning the foundry, should you wish to respond to it now.”
He preemptively hovers between you and the foundry screens, having added this everyday occurrence as an approved exception to his routine morning program, yet he still waits for your confirmation before commandeering the terminal from you.
“You know I would. I owe you one.”
“Nonsense. I simply wish to take care of menial duties so that you can pursue your priorities.”
With that he whirls around and the screens begin sliding and resizing in a flurry.
You leave him to his task and walk up the ramp to the bridge, then toward the ancient hunk of blocky technology that had made a home in the starboard corner of the cockpit. You pull out the cheap plastic chair - same as the ones from the Höllvania cafeteria - and wince at the noisy scrape of the stubby metal legs skidding across the floor, still refusing to accept all of the Hex's claims that you would come to remember it fondly after a few years.
You sit in the hard seat and drag the mouse to the messaging window, pleased by the sight of Salem's icon pinging at the top of the list.
Salem: Good morning, my dear timeline-traversing companion.
Well. Good whatever time of day it is wherever you are.
*When*ever you are.
You: Good morning to you too lol. Whenever I am now is better now that you're up.
Salem: I'm glad to hear that from you morning after morning, for there's no rest for us wicked; nor for a crack team of mutants struggling to alter their fates. After stopping a nuclear disaster in the meantime, of course.
You: Just another day in the life, am I right?
Salem: Short days at that, and shorter still when they're spent in the shade. But they're also sweeter now that I have such lovely company.
With so many places and times to be, your days must feel even shorter, no?
You: It's a juggling act, for sure. Turns out I'm not so good at juggling. Lol
Salem: Hah. Well now I have to see for myself.
You scoff and shake your head, knowing that Eleanor will tease you about this until you show her a demonstration.
You: Ugh. Deal - as long as you promise not to laugh when I break whatever it is I end up dropping. And in the meantime I'll start practicing.
Salem: I can't make that promise in good faith.
You swear you can hear Eleanor's throaty chuckle through the screen, and only feel your lips tugging into a grin when you notice it in the screen's pale reflection.
You: Back to your question, the days do start to stretch thin. Sometimes it feels like I blink and I'm already waking up in a different time and place.
Your next thought soars across the clacking keyboard before it's even formed, but you erase it to ensure you word it correctly. Eleanor must have seen you typing, for she patiently awaited for the other half to emerge onto her screen. She values every single thought like a unique gem, appraising even common sentiments for their own value, and it's taught you to consider your own in new light, with intent and careful consideration.
You: It actually makes me more grateful for you, El, anchoring me to something familiar through it all.
Consequence of being a drifter is never getting the chance to get too attached to places or people. Or maybe I just never learned how.
Until you taught me how painfully easy it could be.
A pause in the exchange of messages left a warm, anxious space in your chest. Finally, Salem is typing… popped below your message and you watched it pulse idly for a full minute before Eleanor said:
Salem: Oh, you… always turning sentimental and sickly sweet on me when my guard is down. Which you are uniquely skilled in doing, I might add.
You: Too sappy?
Salem: Secretly, I love it. Earnesty is an attractive quality. You've got me sitting here, biting my nail while wishing I could hear your voice filling those words.
You: You're adorable. You know that, right?
Salem: You've mentioned it on many occasions, so yes, I have no choice but to believe so. Though I could get used to hearing it more often.
Before you could think of a way, however forcefully, to wedge it into your response, another Salem is typing… appeared.
Salem: A paranoid part of me does want to ask you something that I hope I won't come to regret.
You: What's on your mind?
Salem: Other than a hive of microscopic Technocyte drones?
Sorry
That probably wasn't funny
I have to wonder: have you ever made any other (romantic) connections in the vast amount of dimensions available to you?
You: Truth be told, the notion never really occurred to me now that you mention it. Maybe I've just never found that spark of potential in anyone before. The possibility… never really felt mine.
Does that make sense?
Salem: It does. Perfectly. I understand it as though I had said it myself.
Your fingertips hesitate at the keys, feeling keen to keep the conversation from falling too heavily.
You: Why? Jealous much?
Salem: I audibly scoffed, just so you know.
More like possessive *very* much.
You: Just teasing lol. Believe it or not, I only can traverse between the three timelines. Or maybe it's four now?
Salem: That's two or maybe three more than quite possibly every other entity in the universe can traverse.
The question remains.
You can hear her voice humming, dry yet amused.
You: Yeah, I recognize how crazy and potentially pretentious that sounds.
I'm serious Eleanor. I'll let you probe my mind all you want, but all you'll find are thoughts of you.
Salem: Truly?
Probing one's mind is an *entirely* intimate act. Everything that's yours suddenly becomes ours. You can't pick and choose what to surrender. There's nowhere to hide under a spotlight.
But I know that you understand that. And I know that you mean it in earnest.
It's difficult for me to accept is all. Most people blanch at the thought of their mind being read.
Much less by an infested halfling.
When Eleanor lets the tides of her repressed feelings rise, she tends to wallow in them. Her words stretch, separated through sighs as she learns how to bare them for the first time.
You: We're not most people, are we? Infested, halfling, psychic - you're still my Eleanor.
Salem: And you're still mine?
You: Every part of me. I've let you into my mind before and I would do it again.
But you found your own way into my heart.
Salem: Sometimes I'm convinced that you can read my mind with all the perfect things you say. Or maybe you just know me well enough already.
Either way, I adore you.
You: I'd like to think that I do by now lol
Salem: Enough to kiss you…
Oh-
Her blunt confession stunned you for a moment, but her embarrassed retreat gave you room to chase.
You: Now who's speaking their mind, hm? Was there more to that thought?
Salem is typing… and was typing for a long time before one pitifully short message crawled across the next line:
Salem: Listen… Um.
Let's ignore that, shall we?
You: I vote that we shan't. Your earnesty is a very attractive quality.
Salem: Using my own lines doesn't count as reading my mind, by the way. Or as knowing me well.
(But you do. It's frightening how much of me you know, actually, and I fear I could get addicted to the comfort of this intimacy.)
And I'm grateful that we can send messages from anywhere and anytime, and this daily routine that we've settled into. It feels almost domestic, ignoring the fact that we're an entire timeline apart.
You: It's not the most convenient arrangement, sure, but it works. Even if we can’t kiss each other when we want haha. And it's far better than nothing, so I'm happy.
Salem: It turns out that physical contact is pretty much impossible when we're an entire timeline apart.
Admitting that pains me so damn deeply.
Salem is typing…
That does lead me to a question I've been ruminating on
For some time actually
Do you think that us being from different timelines and realities means that we're ill-fated?
You: How do you mean, exactly?
Like… if we keep interacting, we're only hastening some entropic glitch in the space-time continuum that will suddenly prove fatal for us?
Salem: That IS something I've considered, but I'm moreover concerned about our romance. It's already improbable enough for either of us to exist as you've explained to me before; maybe the universe destined us to never meet and we're inviting disaster by defying it. Do you believe in ulterior machinations like that?
[SOL]: You: …It almost sounds like you're looking for an excuse to call this a mistake. My entire existence is basically a giant ‘fuck you’ to the universe, so I've stopped caring about how it feels about how I decide to live.
And I don’t know that I can live without you anymore.
[TERRA]: You: Maybe it's a bit archaic, but I believe in karma. I've fought for the Origin System's peace and yours in 1999, and for that I've found my own peace in the form of you. So I'll not stop fighting for us, either.
[LUA]: You: What if we're simply star-crossed lovers? I'd sooner believe that our impossibly unlikely meeting was an act of providence.
For as many cosmic forces of evil, ill intent, and Indifference there are out there, surely there must be some force creating harmony in whatever ways it can and decided to point me toward you.
You: Love can be as complex or simple as you need to make it. Doesn't make it any less real, just like you and I. Us.
<3
Salem: …Gods. You should see me now, what you've done to me.
Aoi is smirking at me because I've got my chin in my hands and grinning like a loon at your message.
I'm bloody blushing.
You are MAKING ME BLUSH, DRIFTER.
You: Did you tell her that it's because you're obsessed with me?
Salem: Oh, everyone knows. I make it painfully obvious and betray myself at every turn. You're basically all I talk about in casual conversation.
And I think everyone except for Aoi has grown beyond sick of it.
I've reread your message five times already.
Still flushed.
Do you mind if I take a minute?
I… want to write your message into my journal. I'll be back shortly, my love.
You: Sure thing. I'll be here.
You push yourself away from the computer, feeling all aflutter yourself and unable to stop grinning. That two people could connect on such an intimate wavelength through text and time seemed nothing short of a miracle to you.
Eleanor did return after just a minute, when Salem is typing… flashed below the chat.
Salem: Actually
I have another question I'd like to branch to
Embarrassing as this one is.
Don't laugh.
You: I won't, no worries.
Salem: Lately, I've been wondering if all of my thoughts are truly my own.
You: Uh-huh… go on.
Wait- you mean, if the Technocytes within you are gaining a stronger sentience?
Salem: That was where this rabbit hole started, yes. But not quite.
As of late I have been so utterly possessed by thoughts of you. I can hardly fathom it.
And then I think that it wouldn't be so unlikely for another psychic to be out there, right? You, injecting thoughts of yourself into mine?
Guess this is how it feels to have someone in your head. Difference is, you've made a proper home out of it instead of wrecking the place and leaving as I do.
You: If it makes you feel any better. You've had a similar effect on me, and I don’t think it has anything to do with your powers.
Salem: I wish you could see how widely I'm grinning right now.
That's very reassuring, actually.
You: My turn to ask something.
Salem: Fair. Sol knows I've asked you enough questions myself already!
Ask away, darling.
You: I don't mind, by the way.
I just wanted to ask: how are you faring?
Because last time I asked, you said, “I don't think I'm healthy, full stop.”
You said this train of thought started with the Techrot… as long as it ends somewhere better.
Salem: Things have… felt lighter. Especially without the threat of our mutually assured destruction at both nuclear and temporal levels looming over us.
It's given me more time to dwell. Still coming to grips with the fate that the Techrot is building for me from within… that it will never be on my terms. But I find myself fearing it less.
That feels substantial, somehow.
You: It definitely does. It's hard to reclaim your inner peace when it's been taken, so I'm glad that you're able to find some of it again.
Eleanor cut you off before you could inquire further:
Salem: And I have you to thank for that. You're capable of convincing me of a ludicrous amount of hope that shit will get better in any capacity.
And against all the odds, you've still yet to prove me wrong. So who knows? Maybe there is a future where I can reclaim and continue to be Eleanor. And *only* Eleanor.
As long as it's a future that my Drifter is still in.
A girl can dream.
You: Whether or not the virus ends up sticking around. I will. Always.
Salem: I'm holding you to that so bloody desperately.
You: I know, lol.
Salem: So, to properly answer your question: I'm faring better, if only by a smidge.
You: A smidge is a smidge.
Salem: -is a smidge. Can’t argue that. Days like these, everyone is struggling for smidges.
I've been lucky, you see. You've given me more in this year than I expected to see in the rest of whatever life I have left.
Such a wonderful partner I've met.
You: I'm only reciprocating what I've been shown. You deserve so much more than what I'm capable of giving.
Salem: …That makes me feel greedy for what I want to ask. Especially after such a lovely conversation we've had.
You: Go on…
Salem: What I could really use now is a hug.
You: A hug, huh?
Salem: Mhm.
If you were there beside her, you know she would have mewled it with that playful little pout of hers. And it would have worked.
…Shit.
You: Guess I have no choice.
This is the kind of greed they associate with the Orokin, you know.
But you're allowed to feel greedy. I do.
Salem: I'm so curious as to what you feel greedy for.
You: You, obviously. I'm always needy for more Eleanor.
Salem: Well~ You know where to find her.
When*
Sigh.
You: It doesn't make sense to me either lol. Doesn't matter as long as I know how to get back to you.
Omw!
Salem: *kisses*
(More when you get here)
Salem has logged off.
You push the chair back and stand up - wincing again at the horrific scrape - and leaned forward to close the chat window, only for a digital ping to interrupt you while a new chat blinked to the top of the list. It was Aoi.
xX GLIMMER Xx: omg… eleanor is *sooo* into u
it's disgusting but I love it
kinda gross but the cutest thing ever at the same time y'know?
You: Thanks? I think?
It's weirdly comforting to hear from someone else, though. I will say that, for as much as she likes me, it's matched by how crazy I am about her.
xX GLIMMER Xx: i hope this kind of love finds me some day
heard ur popping in soon?
dw, I won't interrupt your smooch sesh ;)
You: Yeah yeah… I'll be sure to say hi when I get there if she doesn't get a hold of me first.
xX GLIMMER Xx: u'd better or else! see ya soon bestieee ^_^
xX GLIMMER Xx has logged off.