voice- un: brightness_kholin

[veristitalian]

People have been vanishing. Not many, not often, not at a volume where we've noticed quickly, but a small number of the ones who initially arrived here have simply disappeared. They've been vanishing since before the doors into space opened, and at enough of a rate that we'd notice the diminishing number of suits if they were all falling off the station into the black.

Initially I had assumed it must be because this place is dangerous. If that were the case we should be tripping over the corpses by now. We clearly aren't.

Comments

[donkeyballs]

[ Alex, for whatever he said about dying, looks fit as a god damned fiddle. Well. A fiddle who stopped working out five years ago when he left the military and has a bit of a paunch around the waist, but you know what he means. His arm isn't broken, and he looks completely healthy, even if there's a slightly haunted look in his eye. When he looks around for Jasnah, though, he actually does a double take - expecting the same dull jumpsuit uniform and instead seeing a woman that looked like she stepped out of a vid screen. Regal and ancient.

He blinks, clears his throat, and steps over. ]

Uh - hey. You, uh, look nice. [ Fucking smooth, Alex. ]

[veristitalian]

Thank you.

[She answers, surprised by the compliment and relieved to see him hale and whole, if a little haunted around the edges.]

I've been finding pieces of home here and there around the stations. The havah, a few books, my hairpins, a sword. [Jasnah's a woman of a few interesting contraditions: intricate, fetching braids and murdery edges. She moves to fill a tray with food, favouring one shoulder carefully.] Have you noticed the same?

[donkeyballs]

A sword? [ He has no idea what a havah is, either, but the sword is what pegs his interest. He noted the slight roll of her shoulders, wondered if she'd hurt herself somehow, and was about to ask, before she distracted him with a question.]

Oh, uh - yeah. Sort of. Not a hell of a lot, though, just - just the one thing. [ He paused, hesitating, but then reached up to his breast pocket and carefully pulled out the photo, and then held it out to her. ]

... Just this.

[veristitalian]

[She steps closer, looking down at the photo, a little surprised at how vivid it is. There's no photography on Roshar, but she's used enough to the communicators that she can absorb the content.]

He looks determined, and she looks kind. Your wife and child?

[donkeyballs]

[ He carefully replaces the photo, creased a hundred times over, back into his breast pocket. ]

... Yeah. [ He fights the urge to qualify it. Or tries to, anyway. But he finds himself doing it, kicking himself for it the whole time. ]

Was, anyway. My wife, I mean. [ The ring felt heavy in his pocket, removed from his finger. He looked sheepish. ]

His name's Melas. My son. But that's all I got, from home. Just that. No uh, no swords.

[veristitalian]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[Answers Jasnah, who does not come from a culture where divorce or separation would even occur to her.

But, changing the topic delicately, as she picks her tray up carefully to lead them to a table.]

Do you know how to swordfight?

[donkeyballs]

[ He swallows, trying to figure out how to correct her in a way that won't make him sound like an utter asshole, when she changes the subject. He's still not sure he should just leave that misconception there, but at the same time, he's thankful for the topic change. He shakes his head. ]

Nah. I can fire a gun, alright, and I'm a mean shot with a ship's guns, but - I ain't never even held a sword.

[veristitalian]

People talk about guns, but I'm not very clear on what they are.

[Admits Jasnah, starting in on her food at last, as they move on to slightly less fraught conversation.]

[donkeyballs]

Oh - right. [ He's surprised, though he shouldn't be. He clears his throat. ]

Uh - I guess best I can explain is that they're projectile weapons. Powered by very small explosions to push a small piece of metal outward at incredible speed. The old ones were basically like hand canons - by my time, we figured out how to make rounds that will piece human flesh but not go through the hull of a ship - which I tell you, is an important distinction.

The ones I use are the main guns attached to the ship, and those - well. Those do pierce hulls. We got two type of guns, PDCs - Point Defence Canons - and those fire a lot of small projectiles really fast, in order to stop a missile or some other debris from hittin' the ship. Then you got rail guns, which - well. They're only meant to kill, or severely disable, another ship.

A round from one of those can take someone's head clean off.

[veristitalian]

Like a bow and arrow or a trebuchet, but electrically powered to increase the force of the object being thrown?

[She infers, mostly following along.]

And specifically adapted to combat in this environment- where a misplaced shot could kill everyone on board.

[donkeyballs]

Yeah - like that. Only instead of mechanical power, the force behind the bullet is from a very contained explosion. A little bit of gunpowder lit, then the energy of the blast expels it outward.

And yeah, exactly. Though it wouldn't kill everyone - that's why the decks are segmented. If one of them gets vented, the others'll still be sealed. If it's a small enough hole, it'll be a slow enough vent that you can fix it before you lose all your atmosphere, too.

[veristitalian]

I have an unrelated question for you, and I'm sure it's one you've been asked before- but is all the food like this?

[It might be a space thing.]

It's a little like army rations, but worse.

[donkeyballs]

[ He gives a short, amused breath, the corners of his lips curling a little. ]

Oh no. This is a special kind of terrible. Worse than even the MREs we used to get with the MCRN.

Jasnah, if this were my ship, we'd be eatin' oven-cooked lasagna, right now, with real, honest-to-god mushrooms. [ He let out a slightly wistful sigh. ]

Damn, but I miss cookin'.

[veristitalian]

And what's lasagna?

[Asks Jasnah, trying not to think about the next bite she takes. This isn't something she hears much about, the food of other worlds.]

I didn't take you for a cook.

[donkeyballs]

It's a layered dish that you bake in an oven. Back on Earth, it was made with pasta, a meat sauce - usually beef-, cheese, and tomatoes. But the Martian version, I have to say, is basically entirely soy. We ain't got space for cattle, so no cheese, no meet. Sometimes real tomatoes, if you can get em. I add mushrooms in mine, just 'cause it's a treat.

[ He offered her a warm smile. ]

Fancy myself a pretty decent one, all things considered. Least better than anyone else on my crew, though that ain't sayin' a whole hell of a lot.

[veristitalian]

'Pasta, beef, cheese, tomatoes, soy, cattle.'

[She enumerates the words she doesn't know for him, now with a mildly rueful smile. She's so much at a loss here.]

I take it you don't have chouta?

[donkeyballs]

[ He gives her an apologetic look. ]

Pasta's a - well, it can be a lot of different things, but it's usually made of grain, mashed up into a dough and then cooked into shapes. Not like bread, though. We don't get a lot of it, 'cause wheat just ain't worth it's weight, up in space.

Beef is the meat you get from Cattle - it's a large animal that uh - well, I've never actually seen one, only pictures, so I ain't sure I could describe it.

Soy is a kind of bean, high in protein and when mashed up can be repurposed to make basically anything you damn well please. And tomatoes are a kind of fruit - not sweet, exactly, but they've got a great flavour an' most of 'em are bright red.

[ He wets his lips, then frowns. ]

Can't say I've heard of it. What is it?

[veristitalian]

It's the kind of food that gets sold in a warcamp. Good enough that soldiers will spend their wage for it on payday, inexpensive enough to produce that it can be sold for just chips.

Cremlings and soulcast meats ground, shell and all, into a crunchy paste, seasoned with what can be found- a little fruit, a little spice. The entire thing wrapped in lavis dough and fried to a crisp.

It's mens' food, I'm not supposed to have tried it, but I'm not a very obedient Vorin.

[donkeyballs]

Sounds delicious, if I'm honest. Though I ain't ever eaten anything that used to live in a shell - that don't mean I wouldn't.

[ He paused, though, looking a little surprised. ]

Mens' food? What's that mean? You separate food based on gender?

[veristitalian]

Food- recipes for men and for women. Tables. Kitchens, in very religious housholds.

Gender roles are different in Alethkar. Men here can seemingly all read, which was quite a shock to me.

[donkeyballs]

[Alex's surprised turned into confusion, pulling his head back a little, his brows furrowed. ]

That's- Well, hell, that's weird. Sounds pretty damn inconvenient, too. I'm tryin' to imagine Naomi havin' to sit at a different table all the damn time.

Though her being the only one of us that was literate would actually kind of fit the theme, to be honest. She's a hell of a lot smarter than me. But that seems, uh - a little weird, don't it? To separate it based on gender, like that?

I mean, I know they did on Earth, back in the day, but...

[veristitalian]

There are symbolic exceptions for close quarters. Two separate cloths laid over a table, with serving dishes on each cloth. In lean times, you might prepare the same dish of vegetables and meat, with two tureens of sauce, once spiced and one sweet.

There are men who are intellectual, of course- all if this is absolutely stupid, based on superstition and religion, and it should largely be abolished.

[Adding, quickly, to be sure he knows she's reporting, not condoning.]

But a man who wished to read or do research would pledge himself to a devotary and become an ardent- a religious position.

[donkeyballs]

[ He rubs the back of his head, clearly at a bit of a loss. ]

I ain't gonna lie, Jasnah. Sometimes you say things and it's like I know I can understand 'em but I don't really get them. Especially when you talk about your world.

Does that mean you ain't really used to livin' with men, like this?

[veristitalian]

I've traveled between cultures before, so I have a little experience in dealing with the profound shock of new customs- but yes. I'll admit it, living here is sometimes uncomfortable. I am a heretic, but propriety is still propriety.

[Even sitting, speaking this frankly with a man she isn't related to, outside of a formal political meeting, isn't something that happens to her often.]

What's the most different part, to you?

[donkeyballs]

Well, I mean, the fact that ya'll can't even eat a meal together has pretty much topped that list. Food is pretty damn important, where I'm from, and sharin' a meal is how a family's 'sposed to bond. It's one of the best ways of expressin' love for each other, by makin' and sharin' food.

I'd have a hell of a time, tryin' to stick to that rule.

But if there's anythin' else I can do, to make you feel more comfortable here, you just gotta name it.