#heard about this olive branch to gem before but just stumbled on this and wanted to save it

[todays-just-a-daydream]

12 September 2012 | Noel dedicates D'Yer Wanna Be A Spaceman? to Gem at iTunes Festival 2012

[98prilla]

Seeking Oblivion

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AO3

...

It was midday when Janus came thundering up the stairs, startling Virgil, who was on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, trying to get rid of the final vestiges of jitters from the unbelievable, endless, panic attack from the day before.

 “Jesus, Jan. Warn a side.” That was enough to freeze him in place, the casualness with which Virgil addressed him, using not only his name but his old nickname.

 “you… are we… what?” He stammered, not sure if he’d just wandered into the twilight zone or some alternate reality.

 “look. You… helped me out, yesterday, and I appreciated you checking in, knowing how anxious I must be. Especially… especially since nobody else did.” Virgil’s lips twisted in a small, bitter smile, as he looked away, pulling on his hoodie strings.

 “Virgil-“

 “It’s fine. Everyone… everyone else was busy with their own meltdowns, and it sounded like I wouldn’t have wanted to be there, anyway. Giant frog monster Pat? Yeah, no thanks.” Virgil shuddered, a small smile flashing across Janus’s face.

 “so. Thanks. I guess. Both for helping me, and… and protecting Thomas. You’re really… helpful, when you’re not being an arrogant ass.” Virgil mumbled, and Janus let out a small laugh, softening, accepting Virgil’s olive branch for what it was.

 “We didn’t leave things on the best of terms, so, I get it if we’re not cool. But, um, can we try? To… work together?” Virgil’s voice was a squeak, and Janus smiled, just a bit.

 “Yes. I would like that. You can start with this.” He said, sitting on the couch next to Virgil, seriousness coming back as he remembered why he came up here in the first place, passing the note to Virgil.

“What… is this from Princey?” Virgil mumbled, reading it slowly, eyes widening as he came to the end.

 “What does he mean? Janus, what does he mean ‘I’m sorry and tell Remus I know he’ll be more than I ever was?’ What…” His hands were gripping the paper hard, face paling.

 “It was left on my desk. Roman… he apologizes, for making fun of my name, for calling me the villain and his general attitude towards me, for siding against me with Patton, telling me I was right about all the self care I was preaching, that he hopes everyone takes my advice and takes some time. And he hopes,” his voice cracks for a second, his worry clogging his throat, “he hopes he gets to see everyone once again. I was hoping any of you had seen him since yesterday’s events, I’m… worried.” Virgil shook his head.

 “No, no, we haven’t, we thought… I thought, he was just in his room, cooling down, or upset, or off in the imagination, beating shit up. But that… that doesn’t sound like him. Not ok him. Patton! Lo!”

 Logan rose up first, adjusting his glasses, Patton following shortly after, though he looked slightly more disheveled than Logan, smiling weakly at Janus.

 “Has anyone seen Roman?” Virgil asked, Logan shaking his head, Patton frowning.

 “No, I thought we should give the kiddo some space.” Virgil muttered a curse under his breath, looking to Janus for permission, before passing the note to Logan. He read it with a furrowed brow, Patton peeking over his shoulder, hand flying to cover his mouth as he got to the end.

 “We should check on him. Immediately. I… the tone of this letter is extremely concerning.” Logan, voice shaking just a tad. Without further encouragement, Patton nodded, taking off down the hallway towards Roman’s room, the others not far behind.

 “Roman? Kiddo, you in there?” Patton called, knocking on the door, frowning as he heard nothing in response. “I know you might not wanna talk right now, but can you just let me know you’re ok in there?” He tried again, met once more with only silence. He took a deep breath before trying the handle, a bit relieved to find the room unlocked.

 “Roman?” Logan called hesitantly, stepping past Patton and into the room, eyes widening at the state of it.

 It should have been messy. There should have been playbills from every show they'd been in or attended framed on the walls, a myriad of posters interspersed amongst them. Light should have been shining down from the large, stained glass ceiling, notebooks and loose papers filled with sketches and ideas should have been scattered about every inch of the floor. It should be a chaotic, colorful, clashing, mess.

 Instead…

 Instead it was clean, tidy… empty. Nothing on the pale cream walls, the posters gone, presumably packed into the neat pile of boxes stacked against one wall, each one labeled. Posters, notebooks, clothes, art supplies, all packed away, as if Roman was moving.

 “what the…” Patton passed Logan, pulling the white sheet off the standing mirror, Roman's portal to the imagination, blanching instantly.

 Usually, the portal showed the other side, green fields or a distant castle, magical forests, whatever Roman had conjured. Now it reflected nothing but a light, swirling mist. Carefully, he reached out, gasping as he laid a palm flat against the glass, instead of simply passing through it. His portal was… broken?

 Virgil inhaled sharply, face paling suddenly, and Janus had to wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady as he stumbled.

 “Vee?” he asked.

 “It’s cracked. H-his mirror. It’s breaking. Roman's… roman's fading.”

 “No. No he can’t… he hasn’t ducked out! We would know, if he’d ducked out.” Patton answered, unable to take his eyes off the glass, seeing now the small, hairline breaks in the surface, tracing them lightly with his finger.

 “That's not the only thing that could lead to him fading. If he isn’t here, he must be in the imagination.” Janus replied.

 “And given that his portal is no longer working, that leaves us with one option. Remus!” Logan called, not flinching as he instantly popped into existence, so close to his face their noses were touching.

 “Lolo! I’m surprised you called. Finally letting loose? Time for some roleplay? I've always wanted to be the school girl. I’ve been bad professor, surely there's some way I could earn extra credit?” Remus asked in a high falsetto that was also somehow husky. Patton winced, and Logan heard Virgil's faint ‘gross', but he didn’t back away or back down.

 “Fortunately, no. We need passage through the imagination. You are the side to call, are you not?” He asked evenly, Remus backing away with a scowl. He never could get a rise out of Logan.

 “Of course. But you don’t need me for that. You’ve got goody two shoes disney prince. You don’t need me." Remus pouted sourly, pacing away, hands fidgeting wildly.

 “Remus. Look around. Where do you think we are right now?” Logan asked. Remus spun around, glaring at the plain walls, plain floors, plain ceiling, a few hours and some blood, he could make a masterpiece!

 Then his gaze drifted, and he shoved past Logan, barely noticing Patton letting out a squeak and just barely avoiding getting barreled through as his eyes flitted over the mirror.

 He let out a low growl, pressing his palm to the surface, demanding to see, demanding to be let in, demanding it show him.

 Gray. Nothing. Silence.

 He stumbled back, clutching at his chest, eyes wide as he stared at the glass, the cracks ever so slightly longer.

 “oh no no no no. That’s not right. That’s not right at all.”

 “Remus? What is it?” Patton, hesitant.

 “Nothing. It… there was nothing.” Remus gathered himself, spinning on his heel, passing Virgil and Janus as he stalked out the door. “Well? Are you coming or not?” The group glanced at each other, before following Remus back down the stairs.

 He was muttering and mumbling to himself the whole time as he walked, hand clenching and unclenching as he stalked to his own room, shoving open the door, not caring if the others had followed or not as he strode through his mirror, aiming for the border of the kingdom closest to Roman's.

 “are… are we sure about this?” Patton squeaked outside of Remus's room, more than a little intimidated by whatever would be inside his imagination.

 “Yes. If we wish to stop whatever is happening from developing further, we need to follow." Logan replied, not hesitating as he, too, vanished through the mirror.

 “It’ll be ok, Pat. He's… wild, but he’d never do any lasting damage to one of us.” Virgil reassured lowly, taking a breath before stepping through himself.

 “Patton?” Janus slipped his hand into Patton's, summoning all his sincerity as he met the moral side's eyes.

 “you can do this." Patton took a shaky breath, shooting Janus a small, lopsided smile.

 “Ok. Let's go.” Patton whispered, squeezing his hand once before squaring his shoulders and walking through the glass, hand in hand with Janus.

…

 Remus stopped in his tracks as soon as he looked up after crossing the mirror, frozen to the spot.

 This… this was wrong. This was wrong.

 It had let him out on a crag, overlooking Roman's side. Usually it was magical forests and herds of unicorns far as the eye could see, Roman's colorful story book castle rising up in the distance. Maybe a few sparkling gem colored dragons circling the air. The sun gently shining, fluffy white clouds, the perfect image of the perfect day.

 Now, all of that was gone.

 It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that meant all life had fled, the kind of quiet that stilled the air, the entire world holding its breath.

 A light, gray mist covered the entire plain, though it didn’t smell like rain, like wet earth, like mist should. It was just… there, slowly covering everything. Huge, twisting vines covered in sharp thorns grew from the ground like trees, twisting over and across each other in arches and knots.

 And there, far in the distance, a gray spire of stone, the only thing breaking the monotony of the endless vines, a tower.

 That’s where Roman was. He could feel it. But he couldn’t feel anything else. Him and Roman were linked, to an almost telepathic level at times, and at some level he always knew vaguely what Roman was feeling, the more he concentrated, the more precise he became.

 He was using all his focus now, trying to pull at that link, trying to pull anything from Roman, only to be met again and again by that terrifying blankness of nothing.

 He was barely aware that the other sides had joined him in staring out into the distance, he felt ten degrees removed from his body as he realized what, exactly, was happening. The mist wasn’t just covering everything, it wasn’t a conscious aesthetic choice on Roman’s part, and neither were the vines. They were taking over. They were all that was left, they were slowly but surely destroying Roman’s imagination. And he was in the middle of it.  

 He heard sharp inhales and shocked gasps, dimly realizing he must have spoken aloud, cotton still filling his ears as he refused to take his eyes off the tower.

 Roman.

 He hated Roman.

 He loved Roman.

 He couldn’t live without Roman.

 “Remus.” Suddenly Janus was before him, close, and he snapped his attention to him, despair filling him as he met those gold and brown eyes. “Breathe. We will get him back.”

 “promise?” He whispered, feeling tears pricking his eyes, and god, if Roman did come back from this, he was going to murder him all over again.

 “promise. We need you to show us the way.” He shook his head.

 “I don’t know. I can still conjure over there, sure, but I can’t change the landscape, I can’t get us any closer than this! We’d have to walk it and that would take days, and by that time, the mist will have swallowed up everything, and there’ll be nothing left, including us, and then Thomas will be no better than a potato!” He yelled, arms flailing above his head as he ranted, pacing restlessly, everything in him screaming to move.

 “We have longer than you are estimating, Remus. Roman has been a central part of Thomas for nigh on three decades. It is therefore unlikely that he would fade quite so quickly, especially since he has not ducked out. He is in the imagination, where he is arguably strongest. And… he is not trying to fade, based on his letter. We have time, as much as it feels otherwise. We have time to fix this.” Logan interjected, his science tempered with his nervous tone, though his eyes, too, were fixed on the horizon.

 “We won’t fix anything just standing around here all day. Are we going, or not?” Virgil asked, glaring out at the vines, a glare nearly strong enough to make them wilt on his face, as he turned to Remus.

 “You can at least make stairs to get us down there, right?” Remus nodded, a snap of his fingers and a winding stairway was cut into the stone. Virgil gave a sharp nod in thanks, starting down the pathway, down towards the mist, down towards Roman.

 Logan gave his shoulder a squeeze as he passed, a small sign of reassurance and solidarity. Janus softly bumped his shoulder as he made his way to the stairs. And Patton… Patton slipped his hand into his, nearly making him jump at the sign of affection, from Patton, of all people.

 “come on, kiddo. Let’s go.”

[gospelofsam]

PASSING DAYS

OOI.

           Twin ravens circled the clear Vanaheim skies, their mix of blue and green feathers glistening in the summer sun like newly polished gems. Below them, a wild landscape stretched on for miles in either direction. It was beautiful, yet untamed, much like the Vanir who resided there.

           Campsites dotted the plains, going on for as far as the eye could see. An arena was nestled somewhere in the middle of them all, hidden behind tall blades of yellowing grass and wildflowers. The entirety of the Vanir realm was overgrown, as were most of its occupants in their own right. Wild, untamed and free.

           One of the ravens, Hugin, perched on the branch of a lone oak tree. He ruffled his bright blue feathers. His beady green eyes followed two bodies as they travelled down the tilled path. Interested was the bird. Interested and watching, as was his job.

           The two stopped in their tracks, resting at the tree where Hugin had perched himself. They took a seat under the shade the expanse of leaves provided, talking and laughing amongst themselves. One, the boy, tossed a square of wood between each of his hands, his golden hair falling out from the man bun and into his face. He had sharp features, but not the kind that might scare someone off. No, they were gentle in their own ways, soft where it mattered the most. His eyes were as green as the landscape he was sitting in, as were the girls who leaned into him.

           Hugin, from what he could see from his place on the branch, could immediately tell the two were related. The girl’s hair, though, was much darker, as red as the autumn leaves. Yet they shared the same flawless complexion, the same emerald eyes, and the same pointed features. Elves, the raven assumed, possibly from Folkvangr, the Vanir parallel to Valhalla.

           “We should really get going,” the boy piped up, dropping his moving hands to the ground. They still fidgeted, Hugin noted, always ready and anxious for something new. Something more exciting than simply resting in the grass. “The others are probably waiting up for us, you know.”

           The girl rolled her eyes, a strand of her auburn hair popping out from the braid that rested over her shoulder. Her face was speckled in dirt, but that didn’t keep from the fact that she was a looker. “They know their way back. A couple of more minutes won’t hurt them.” She beamed at the other. A bright, happy grin like that was infectious. It made you want to smile, to keep her happy for as long as you could. The boy, who, like the girl who accompanied him, still remained nameless to Hugin. Munin, his sister, might have known, but she was still surveying the area, keeping watch over the realm their master dared not to go.

           The boy chose to return her smile, though he seemed hesitant to do so. He took the small wood black back into his hands, passing it under and over his slender fingers. Possibly to occupy himself, Hugin was unsure.

           After a few moments of silence, Munin, who’s feathers were more green than blue, landed on the branch opposite of him. Her eyes were a shining blue, much like Hugin’s feathers. She nodded at him, pointing her beak downwards at the brother and sister. Ah. So, these were the two they had been sent to find. Together, their bodies changed and shifted to look more human. Twin shapeshifters sat on the branch where the birds had once been. They couldn’t have been older than fifteen, maybe sixteen, but time and was easily disguisable.

           Munin plucked unruly feathers from her dark green hair, setting them in a neat pile beside her. Her hair fell in waves above her shoulder, but her eyes remained the same piercing blue. She looked accustomed to Vanaheim’s wild terrain, donning Doc Martin boots, denim jeans and a flannel. In her usual fashion, the articles of clothing all shared the green color scheme.

           Hugin, on the other hand, had much shorter, much more vibrant blue hair, mirroring the bright blue feathers his raven form bore. He and Munin’s color schemes were inversed, hers being mostly green, while his consisted of various shades of blue clothing. Unlike his sister, he was undoubtedly unprepared for the realm of the Vanir, having dressed in an oversized blue, almost black, sweater, jean capris, and sneakers. Munin gave an annoyed look, which Hugin countered by blowing a raspberry. He was mature like that.

           The two raven spies of Odin dropped down from their oaken perch, frightening the elven siblings as they landed. Well, more so when Munin landed. Hugin, who hadn’t timed his own jump right, hit the ground with a thud. His hands were scraped, bleeding slightly, but nothing felt or seemed to be broken. Still, the boy looked concerned. As Hugin got to his feet, brushing the grass from his palms onto his sweater, the blond elf rushed forward, dropping the wooden block from his hands. It was a rune, Hugin realized. Instead of the warmth that crept from the elf’s body into his own, he attempted to focus on the wooden rune. Distracting himself, really.

           Munin coughed, breaking up the boy’s healing session. She was clearly impatient, and Hugin couldn’t blame her. They had been given a task. They couldn’t afford to be held back by minor inconveniences such as injuring a hand. The boy backed away, but he and Hugin continued sharing eye contact. Even without words, the elf’s message was clear. He wanted to know if the shapeshifter was alright. Hugin nodded, silently assuring him he was. His scrapes had vanished, the only trace that he’d even injured himself in the first place being the trickles of his own blood staining the blades of grass crimson.

           “Stop gawking and do your job,” Munin grumbled, her elbow connecting with Hugin’s ribcage. He moved his emerald eyes away from the elf, his face burning, mostly out of embarrassment of being caught. Truthfully, he hadn’t realized he’d been staring.

           He cleared his throat, clasping his newly healed hands behind his back. The girl, he noticed, had been chuckling, but had been quieted by her brother, who looked as embarrassed as Hugin felt. He fidgeted behind his back, he looked over the two elves, attempting to piece together the signs that they had once trained under the Vanir deities Frey and Freya. The rune etched into the boy’s wooden block was fehu, the rune dedicated to Frey. That was the only indication the two were connected. His sister had a quiver slung over her back, which had a distinct triskelion pattern sewn into the fabric. It was a motif that had been associated with Freya for many winters. How had he just now noticed them?

           “You know, you two are easier to find than I thought you’d be.” said Hugin, keeping his tone light and humorous. Only the Allfather knew what these two could be capable of own their own, much less as a pairing. He wasn’t keen on returning to Oscar, the new Odin, with his wings clipped. “Frey and Freya’s…successors, am I right?” Replacements and successors. The two words were interchangeable now. The old gods were long gone, leaving behind legacies, prodigies, to take their places. That’s what Hugin and Munin were. Carbon copies of their parents with the same ultimate goal. Live, serve, and then die at Ragnarok.

           The elf’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Hugin thought she’d draw her bow and send him stumbling back to Asgard with an arrow lodged in his chest. She nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, we are. Why does that matter to you? What even are you?” She studied Hugin and Munin, like a hunter stalking prey. She was watching their moves, he realized. She was frightening, sure, but not intimidating.

           Beside him, Munin clicked her tongue. It wasn’t the first time they’d received the question and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. “We’re shapeshifters, elf. I am Munin, and this,” She gestured to herself, then to Hugin. “is my brother, Hugin.”

           “Yeah, Thought and Memory. I’ve heard about you two.” The elven girl rose from her seat amongst the blades of grass. She smiled at them both, but there was a hint of disgust laced in her words, like the shapeshifters’ names had left a sour taste in her mouth. She almost reminded him of Munin. Almost. “Aerin and Olive.” From they way they had introduced them both, he could only assume that she was Olive and her brother was Aerin. Oddly enough, knowing their names was more comforting than knowing them solely by their predecessors. “There something you need or are you just stalking us?”

           Before Hugin could speak, Munin, as usual, took the lead. He didn’t mind. The less talking the better. “The Allfather wishes to see you,” she said, her tone placid and her face emotionless. Yet, he knew better than anyone that she was anxious. Asgard was their home. Vanaheim was uncharted and unfamiliar territory. “The matter is urgent.”

           Aerin’s light brows knit closely together. The Vanir and Aesir, despite the truce that had been put in place, had a strained relationship. It was a childish feud Hugin hoped had passed with the old gods. Now he knew that was far from the truth. “Why didn’t Oscar show up himself? The guy can come and go between the realms whenever he feels like it, but not drop by Vanaheim when it matters?” His sister shot him a warning look. If Aerin noticed it, he didn’t choose to acknowledge it. Or perhaps he didn’t care. Either was a plausible explanation.

           How Munin had stayed so calm was beyond him. She sighed, “It’s not my place to question the Allfather. My brother and I simply deliver his messages and watch whoever catches his interest.” Munin caught Hugin’s eyes and nodded to the twins. He made an ‘o’ with his lips and cleared his throat.

           “It’s just a meeting. A quick one, hopefully.” He added with a shrug of his shoulders. Oscar – Odin, same difference – hadn’t told him much about the topics of discussion, not that he ever did. Not that he wanted to keep the information to himself, but because Hugin and Munin had no real importance to the Allfather.

           The elves seemed to ponder the idea, each distracting themselves by fidgeting. A shared habit, he guessed. “Maybe we should talk somewhere else,” Aerin interjected, tucking his fehu rune into the pocket of his denim jacket. Olive nodded her agreement, dropping her hands back down to her side.

           Munin looked skeptical, and for the first time in awhile looked to Hugin for advice. He shrugged, a darkish smile adorning his features. He watched as the two elven deities started down the path once more.

           “Let’s not go back to Ossie on an empty stomach, yeah?’ Hugin urged his sister along, calling to Olive and Aerin to slow down. Munin groaned, annoyed, but hurried off after her younger brother.

[styx-n-stone]

The maintenance check

Lace Agate stared at the planet. "5,000 years and nothing has changed" She spoke in introspective reflection. "Pity, it would have been nice to have a new planet in this system." She turned to face her crew, busy at work. "Emeralds" she ordered the small gems. The psychic warriors scuffled over and aligned in front of her. "Yes Lace Agate" spoken in unison. "How do you see the landing going?" Lace said. The Emeralds looked at each other briefly before getting in their "thinking pose", as they call it. One by one they respond. "Lights!" "Poof" "Exhilarating!" Lace rolled her eyes, noting to herself to request a sapphire instead of the extra gem power. "That will be all" she grumbled , dismissing them. The Emeralds ran off giggling. Gray pearl approached her liege. "Olivine said we will be landing momentarily." Lace nodded. "Thank you, pearl." Pearl left muttering something like 'about time' or 'not soon enough'. Lace heard these, but had grown quite use to it. Pearl did good work albeit bitterly. The Agate was accustomed to getting the duds and less than exemplary, unfortunately. She thought in more depth about her crew. It wasn't much, to be fair. Two quartzes- Cloudy and Rutilated- for guards. Rarely were any real threats present, so they mostly assisted in keeping the Emeralds in check and any mechanical needs of the Olivine. Cloudy was honest and reliable, though occasionally caught daydreaming about stars know what. She generally helped Olivine with mechanical matinence. Her gem was milky white that always looked dirty, despite no reason to be. Ruttilated (the Emeralds gave her the nickname Rudy) was anxious. There was almost nothing about her that was soldierly. In fact, her gem seemed to have multiple cracks in it. Or, at least, appeared to. Ironically, she was the best at handling the Emeralds. The Emeralds were immature, spastic, and vague about everything. They were always together and always causing mischief. In all honesty, it made sense. Emeralds are the discount Sapphires and Premium rubies: warriors that can see the future. Good idea in theory, but no where near standards in practice. They gave each other nicknames. Their leader was "Eymerald", the smart one, who usually gave visual predictions. Then there was "Button", the sensitive one who gave feeling predictions. And finally "Anmerald" who.. was the unpredictable one. Her visons made no sense until retrospective. Olivine was an efficient and enthusiastic technician. Very witty but easily irritated. She worked but chatted the entire time. Lace felt lucky that cloudy kept her company. The Agate wouldn't last 5 minutes of "and the peridots think you can just REWIRE the main frame. Who does that? Anyway-" Then there was... Citrine. Citrines are supposed be more stealthy than Quartzes. But this Citrine... Is the laziest gem she's ever met. The most she does is talk to pearl and hang with the Emeralds. Lace frowned to herself. They can't help it. Production quality has gone down over the past few centuries. Less resources means less efficiency. At least she HAS a crew. The ship made an loud sound. Something like metal groaning as it's pushed against a wooden ground. "What was that?" She ordered. Olivine ran into the main deck. Almost stumbling. Cloudy managed to catch her before hand. "SOMETHING JUST FLEW PAST US AT WARP. THE NAVIGATIONAL SYSTEM IS MALFUNCTIONING." Lace looked over to her flight crew. They awaited her guidance. She opened her mouth to speak only to be thrown into the dash with a loud bang. The ship started a corkscrew. Rudy cried out and hid under the dash. The Emeralds joined her huddling against the Quartz. Cloudy secured Olivine. Citrine and Gray hung on railing. Lace realized what the Emeralds meant. She gripped the dashboard and attempted to turn the stabilizer on. Emergency lights strobing and smoke entering the bridge. The ship burning from the frictave atmosphere. Gravity took effect. Screaming Crash Smoke Then silence. Lace used the dash to pull her self up. She shifted her head to her disheveled crew. No one had dissipated. She lucked out. The crew gave a long hard moan of pain. "Olivine, diagnosis" Olivine pushed cloudy off of her and went over to a panel. "No response, power cell is most likely damaged- among other things." "Repair time?" "With the resources we possess?....21 to 42 lunar rotations. Perhaps 3-5 solar rotations at worst. " Lace grunted in dissatisfaction. "Open the door" Gray pearl attempted the key pad, but it was no use. Cloudy kicked the door open. it hit the ground with a loud bang that caused everyone to flinch. Lace lead the company out of the ship. They were on the edge of a lake. Somehow they avoided being submerged in water. A few trees were knocked over but for the most part the forrest appeared to be empty of intelligent life (other than insects). Lace nodded for Olivine to survey the exterior damage. She went off, cloudy instinctually following her. "Pearl, Ruttilated Quartz, search the area for inhabitants." Lace commanded. She turned to citrine, who was lazing on a tree branch. "Citrine!" The peach gem lost her balance and landed on the grass. "I need you em the wat-" she cleared her throat and spoke again, slower and more precise. " I need you to keep watch on the Emeralds." Then picking up pace again "Report any visions they have to me immediately." Citrine nodded and gave a poorly executed salute. "Aye aye Agate!" And left. Lace looked out into the open water. She only looked back at the ship briefly to double check if the Emeralds were there. They were. For a while, she was alone to her thoughts.... Pearl and Rudy walked through the many trees. Gray nearly blended with the shadows, Rudy noted. She knows why Lace wanted her to go scouting instead of citrine like usual. (Citrine had a tendency to wonder off) Still, she much rather had been with the Emeralds. They were kind to her, and took much comfort around her while also having the same affect on her. There was always reassurance about the future like "you aren't gonna be shattered" or "you're will do a good job" or - She walked into a tree. Gray pearl stopped and looked at her. "Watch where you walk, clod" she said, and walked on. Gray doesn't know why she was put with these lackluster fools. She curses the day Onyx betrayed homeworld. She curses the day Onyx was shattered, leaving her to be distributed to a low ranking corps who don't even take her advice. If she were an Agate she'd have them all harvested. If she were a Diamond she would have harvested and conquered all the planets in this galaxy. This orb was a pathetic waste of space. She tripped over a log. She could hear Rudy giggling. "Watch your step, cl-" Gray's head whipped to face the quartz with ill intent. Rudy shut her mouth tight. She actually wanted to live today. Meanwhile back at ship, Olivine and Cloudy surveyed the damage. The extensive amount of damage Olive continued to keep notes in her log "thrusters collapsed, router devices 4-12 are gone, front is detached from back, etc etc etc.." cloudy lifted some debris out of the way to help get into blocked off sectors. It was routine as usual. "You think you can fix it?" The Quartz asked. Olivine pulled up the notes and hummed in thought like an old computer calculating. She rubbed her visor to get some of the extra dust off. She grimaced. "With difficulty, but it's doable." She looked for any notes on earths resources. "This planet is supposed to be rich in material. We should be abto-" olive stared at the screen. "UHH" the noise from her theist was alarming. Cloudy leaned over to see the screen better. "Destruction imminent. 2 weeks overdue. Travel inadvisable." Olivine let loose a horrified screech and took off towards Lace Agate, stumbling over her limb enhancers repeatedly. Cloudy followed with similar urgency. ... Citrine messed with some of the buttons on the dash. "Where's the A/C on this thing?" Clearly, the dashboard didn't work, but citrine had assumed there was some back up power reserve Which there wasn't The Emeralds on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to not work. They took turns sitting in Lace's command chair and ordering each other around. Currently, Ann was in charge. "Emeralds, there is an intruder aboard. Attack!" "Aye aye Emerald!" The others yelled before tackling citrine. The yellow orange gem laughed. "Oh no! The great Ann has captured me. I'm at the mercy of the Green Diamond!" Eye and button lifted the soldier. "For The Diamonds!" They shouted, parading around Ann in militants fashion. An froze. So did button and eye. Citrine stared at her captors. "Uh, you guys ok?" She stood up. "'Ralds?" They stared into blank space. "We've got company" they said, in perfect unison. Citrine scratched her head. "What?" She looked to the gaping hole in the wall that was the entrance. No one was there. The only thing she could see was Lace Agate staring at the water. She turned back to the green group, "what are you talking-" but they had already resumed their game. Maybe Lace should know about this one. An hour had passed. Lace had already gone from introspective to pure day dream. She hadn't realized it at the moment. There was a group of fish that had caught her eye. She didn't even hear the sound of running and screaming behind her. "LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE" Olivine fell into the mud bellow Laces feet. Lace was startled. "Olivine is that anyway to compose yourself." She responded, though her voice barely coming back to her. Cloudy helped Olivine up. No less than a second later she went off about the situation, speaking 12 words a second. "Olivine, please slow down. I can't understand you." Olivine didn't hear her. Citrine had found her way over to the Agate as well and attempted communication. This was also ineffective, only making more disorganized noise. "EXCUSE ME" she barked. Both gems shut their mouths tightly. "Olivine, what is the matter." Olivine began to speak "Slowly." The technician blinked and began slowly. "A few centuries back during the gem war" "No, what is the matter now" "Oh well, two weeks ago the-" "Today! Olivine! Today!" "This planets going to explode." There was silence. "What." "The cluster that was scheduled to emerge is two weeks overdue" "What?!" Lace, Citrine, and the Emeralds (who had wondered over during a game of tag) were now in an abstract state of terror: Paralyzed. "WELL WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT IT?! WE NEED THE SHIP FIXED NOW!" Lace said, figuratively spitting venom. Olivine trembled. "I CAN NOT FIX IT FAST. I COULDNT IF I HAD ALL THE RESOURCES AND UPDATED TECH WITH ME. IT IS NOT POSSIBLE." She was almost crying. The event was interrupted by gray and Rudy returned. "We've got company." Said Gray. The company looked to them. Lace raised an eyebrow. "Who?" The Agate asked in a low voice that might as well been a growl. "Oh Craaaazy Laaaaaaacce~ is that you?" A familiar voice sung out. Lace Agate finally understood how truly miserable her situation is. She hissed the name she hadn't spoken in centuries. "Apatite"