#if it’s some rando or a mutual you don’t talk to or whatever man fucking go for it. love your best life

[corpsentry]

love to block people on the internet. annoying post? Wrong Opinion? luigi inflation art? block block block. block the person who put the post on your tl too. block them all. much simpler and sweeter option than subtweeting them on priv or (god fordbid) typing up an angry response and hitting send imo. imagine how many minutes of being upset you could avoid experiencing. once you hit that block you never have to hear them yap ever again. out of sight out of mind. be generous and kind to yourself; you are not being problematic or cruel by blocking because blocking is truly never that personal (and people who feel it is are small and vicious and need to touch grass) you are taking care of yourself!!!

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 49-51

Chapter 49

So the queen of Adhira, Lira’s aunt, is, like, super disappointed with Lira and her shenanigans. Lira finally explains that while she loves her aunt, she doesn’t want to be her, aka refuses the role of planetary queen once more. I honestly have no idea what reasons Alara has for making Lira her heir, because Lira has evidently never shown any interest in politics. Why she won’t just make Lon her heir? He seems loyal and eager. Idk I guess feminism or something. Oh and we need a character conflict for Lira. Doy.

Anyhoo, Alara says that she’s been in contact with General Cortas and knows about his deal with the crew. She says she can instead offer Lira a position as a pilot for Adhira’s new starfleet. Which they apparently didn’t have before? She says they need a stronger presence “in the sky” if there’s another war, and like 1) that’s not the sky and 2) you mean to tell me that this entire planet of randos that do in fact train pilots judging by Lira’s existence ... doesn’t have a starfleet already?

Oh, but the ship Alara offers Lira is “the fastest model in the Mirabel galaxy”. The fastest model of ... what? Is it a frigate? A cruiser? A fighter? We don’t even get any made-up specs or even a general specialization, all we get is that it’s the fastest and coolest ship ever that everybody wants right now but it’s not even out on the market yet! Because that makes sense for the government that just admitted they had a minuscule starfleet to have. I would’ve accepted it if Alara tied the existence and offer of the ship back to her correspondence with General Cortas and the ship was a diplomatic gift from Arcardius, but it’s specifically mentioned to be Adhiran.

So ... these guys don’t have a meaningful “presence in the sky”, but they DO have the tech, the budget, and the marketing strategy to make the most wanted and advanced starship in the galaxy?

Oh, and this starship? Lira would pilot it as a commercial ship. So the queen wants to invest in a bigger starfleet ... except this one extra fancy ship she’s willing to throw away for regular trade? I mean I guess it makes sense if she doesn’t want to put Lira in danger but does want to sweeten the deal with a sick starship, but then I have to wonder why the previous info about the general and the lacking starfleet is even in here at all?

This whole situation is just doubt dot jpeg.

We find out that the offer only stands this once, and only if Lira immediately removes herself from her current mission and also leaves her crew to stay on Adhira. Apparently the super sexy cool new ship hasn’t even been built yet, it’s literally just a sketch, but Alara has set aside funds to start construction. But it’s also famous enough of a ship already that everyone wants it?

I’m no politician but the logistics of it all make my brain hurt. It’s just really ass-backwards, is what I’m saying. It really feels like Shinsay just wrote one word in front of the other without any consideration of the words that came before.

Oh and Lon is here also. I’m only saying this because he bites his lip and his blood is blue and I need you to remember this for future reference.

Lon and Alara tell Lira to pick them and ditch her friends because her friends are bad for her and tbh are they wrong? Are they though? Lira leaves to go mope about how uninteresting her character conflict is and finds Alfie and Dex.

Alfie sat beside him on the couch. The AI was oiling his gears while Dex oiled his insides with a bottle of Griss.

I had to read about Dex oiling his insides and now so do you.

Wait ... is Dex butt-chugging this Griss? Dex, you know that’s bad for you, bud?

Lira asks Dex if there was truly no way to save both Andi and his dad, to which Dex replies something appropriately dramatic that nobody would actually say out loud (something something tearing galaxies something), and Lira mopes out of that room as well in grim understanding of their symbolically similar situations before the chapter ends.

Chapter 50

We’re back with Andi. The girls are all “training” aka playfighting out in the open and inconveniencing the people around them while Andi angsts about how broken and sad and black her soul is and how everything is her fault including Valen’s and Lira’s pain and how much she just LOVES these WONDERFUL WOMEN she calls her crew and how HARD it was to open up to them after Kalee and Dex but now that she has she would never give them up for ANYTHING.

It goes on for literally pages and I’m not going to include it because 1) it’s pretty much a rehash of shit we already know and have seen her angst about and 2) the fact that Andi’s thoughts and character “development” is happening in her mind alone and the other girls are doing something else makes this feel really jarring and ironically disconnected. There’s nothing wrong with having emotional chapters where not much “plot” happens, but maybe have people actually, like, talk and interact with each other? Instead of just having one character think about how deep and damaged they are? Idk, just a thought.

Anyway, after several pages of pointless nonsense, Andi finally starts crying and tells the other girls that the new info from Dex and Valen’s whole deal has been taking a toll on her. She also apologizes to Lira, which, bonus points, and to the others for getting her into this. Unfortunately Lira undoes the apology and Andi’s attempt at taking responsibility and admitting to wrongdoing by saying she doesn’t need an apology and only needs to hear Andi complain so she can be the emotional sponge and fortune cookie advice dispenser of the group just like Shinsay always intended.

Now, to be fair, this section is honestly quite touching and I wish Shinsay had focused more on the friendship instead of ... well, literally everything else. Observe:

“I tried to kill [Dex]. What if I’d succeeded?”

“You didn’t,” Breck said. Her dark eyes met Andi’s pale ones as she spoke. “And now you know his side of the story, and he knows yours. You both did terrible things, broke promises, ruined a mutual trust. You can hold on to your anger, if you think that makes you strong.” She smiled a little then. “But brute strength isn’t everything, Andi. Trust me, I would know.”

Man, Breck is really wasted on this book, isn’t she? Or at least the concept of Breck. There isn’t much of her to waste in the first place, lbr.

Andi admits that if Valen tries to kill her when he wakes up, she’s not sure she’ll want to stop him. Um. Shinsay ... It’s time to close the laptop and go outside I think. You are not equipped to handle this.

The crew tells Andi that they can carry some of her burdens for her, which is very sweet, if only Andi showed the same thing in return. Right now all she’s done is mope around, think about how much she loves her crew because they’re just so supportive, and then unload her emotional baggage on them. To her credit, Andi seems hesitant and tells Lira she’s there for her too. Lira’s about to spill the blue beans when Alfie interrupts to tell them that Valen is awake. Lira says that whatever she was about to say isn’t important in what I assume is supposed to be dramatic irony? But watch this actually get forgotten and resolved without her input, making Lira some sort of prophet.

All in all, not the worst chapter, but definitely bloated.

Chapter 51

Andi is pacing back and forth and trying to hype herself up before the meeting with Valen. We find out that apparently, the entire planet of Adhira has no military, because they’re just SO peaceful? Yeahh ... no. The only way I’d accept that is if they had, like, some sort of mind-control abilities and networks of spies and agents in the governments of every other planet nation to prevent any conflict to turn on Adhira, which I doubt since they’re supposed to be the peaceful hippies of the story. It would be mad hardcore if that were the case, but alas, I fucking doubt it my dudes.

Besides, wasn’t Adhira in the war against Xen Ptera? Or did they sit it out but still celebrate the victory as if they helped? What’s going on there?

Also, it’s been four years since Andi last interacted with Valen, which I belive makes her 18-19? Meaning Dex was an older teen when he boned down mid-teens Andi. Ok ok ok ok.

Anyway, today is the day of Revalia, which the United Systems celebrate as it marks the end of the Cataclysm. Andi is not hyped. She’s also not hyped for the Intergalactic Peace Summit that’s happening.

[...] leaders from each of the four systems would be present to symbolize that peace still existed in the galaxy, and would continue to exist between the planets that made up the Unified Systems.

So ... Um. I know Shinsay probably think that “intergalactic” is a really cool sci-fi word and they’ve heard it used before so they had to put it here because it sounds science-y and official, but ... intergalactic means between galaxies. Not between star systems or planets. Given how the summit is defined, interplanetary would be more fitting because they’re all coming from different planets from different solar systems all within the same one galaxy. (Not entirely sure what fancy word would be used for multiple systems, but my point still stands.)

The secondhand embarrassment is strong in this one, y’all. Who edited this?

Gilly finds a Marketable Fuzzy Space Pet and convinces Andi to let her keep it, naming it Havoc. It’s impressive how not charmed I am.

Dex enters with Valen and Andi thinks about how different they are and how fucked-up Valen looks.

What horrors had he lived through?

Being thrown down a flight of stairs, for one. He was rotting at some point also. You know, from all the torture you know he went through for two years? Feels like you should probably know that. Oh, sorry, was that a Deep Rhetorical Question?

I should also mention that Alfie is getting on my nerves big time, which is frankly impressive on Shinsay’s part since I’ll eat up any naïve and emotionless robot character, gears and all, yet somehow they’ve written him to be obnoxious in their attempt at making him charmingly socially inept. I think the fact that I’m supposed to be finding him cute or funny is what’s making me really dislike him. Observe:

“I find the name quite fitting, Breck,” Lira added. “Every beast deserves a strong name.”

“Allow me to assist,” Alfie added, walking over on silent feet. “Havoc is defined, in the Great Universal Dictionary, as ‘great destruction or devastation. Ruinous damage.’”

[...]

Valen inclined his head at Alfie. “My deepest apologies that you’re programmed to work for my father.”

Alfie’s unblinking eyes stared at Valen. “I am detecting strong levels of distaste toward...”

“That’ll be enough, Alfie,” Dex interjected. “Why don’t you go check on the ship repairs? Memory could probably use some company.” 

At the sound of Memory’s name, Alfie’s posture straightened. “I find my gears are warming at an alarming rate. Excuse me.”

Is this supposed to be cute? Endearing? What is the point of Alfie in this story? Why is he here? It feels like his entire reason for existing is to be the silly comic relief and the stereotypical weird AI with no concept of normal interactions. I’m also hardcore weirded out by how horny he is for Memory. It’s making me genuinely uncomfortable for reasons I can’t explain.

Why do we need another comic relief guy? Dex, Gilly and Breck, and now the fucking Havoc (the weird shitty pet thing) all serve that purpose already. WHY DOES ALFIE EXIST?!

Anyway, Alfie leaves and Dex suggests that they all have an “adult conversation” (lol) and the chapter ends on Andi finally greeting Valen and it’s very dramatic.

[boyswanna-be-her]

goretober: space

“Hey, it’s me. Don’t be mad.”

Amal is mad.

She told the goddamn CAPCOM to keep her wife home--to keep Carmen out of all of this as much as possible. She asked him as a colleague and as a friend.

So what the fuck is her wife doing on this transmission?

“I know you hate it when I say shit like this, but it’s totally OK for you to be stressed out right now. You’ve been alone for a long time.”

Amal isn’t afraid of being alone.

She’s trained for years, prepped, spent months in carefully monitored isolation like a zoo animal. Amal can do years alone standing on her head.

Being alone wouldn’t be a problem.

The problem is that Amal is not alone.

“This stuff you’re seeing--this stuff that’s happening--it’s because you’re stressed.”

Carmen is being so careful with her voice and Amal can’t decide how she feels about that. Angry, she decides, because Carmen feels like she has to be careful. Thankful that someone exists back on earth who cares enough to want to treat her gently. Frustrated that Carmen--along with everyone else in Houston--doesn’t believe her.

“I can’t say we perfectly understand why it might be happening, but all of your vitals have been relatively normal.”

“Fuck my vitals,” Amal says to the empty capsule. “It’s not my vitals that are freaking me.”

She hasn’t been alone for three days, and if everyone back at mission control would just listen for half a minute, they’d know that.

“Please, Amal, take the diazepam. Get some sleep.”

She knows how much Amal hates being sedated. They all do. It’s part of what makes Amal such a good candidate for a years-long solo mission like this. She’s never been interested in sleeping away problems or worrying about them less.

You identify the problem. You assess the problem. You work the problem. That’s what astronauts do, and Carmen knows that because she’s been through the same training, been through the same emergencies on missions. Those situations should’ve been terrible--the type of thing to knock you down onto the therapist’s couch for a solid decade--but had instead been exhilarating for all of them, for the entire crew, and though Carmen and Amal never talked about it, she knew Carmen felt it.

Carmen may have started in Star City as a physician, but they all came out on the other side of Hermes I as astronauts.

Their minds went somewhere else--became something else--when potential catastrophes presented themselves in space. Training kicked in and took the situation out of their hands, the spectres of their months of drills in a swimming pool suddenly conjured up.

The crew became a troupe of dancers working through complicated choreography when they tackled problems together, and in the same way that Amal imagined a dancer might feel a high coming off of a good performance, they all knew the distinct sensation of seeing death’s design, understanding it, and dismantling it.

They beat death over and over again. Hell, manned space exploration in itself was an exercise in conquering death over and over and over again.

Fires. Breaches. Malfunctions.

None of those things were ever solved by popping a pill and zipping in for seven hours.

“Anyway, try not to be mad at Patrick for calling me in. I was already up anyway--and to be honest? He’s not the only one down here worrying about you.”

Amal snorts. “No shit, babe. I’m in charge of a multi-billion dollar operation and you all think I’ve lost my marbles.”

She lets herself wish for one split second that Carmen was there to roll her eyes.

“I’m not going to stick around for your transmission back because I know you’re going to tell me that you took your diazepam and you’re about to strap in for bed.”

Carmen is lying of course. Amal knows there’s no chance she’d split without waiting for a response.

“I love you Amal. I’ll talk to you on Tuesday.”

###

Carmen has been sitting at the empty desk next to Patrick, pretending desperately to pay attention to what he’s saying instead of staring at the time on his monitor.

She should’ve responded by now. Right? It’s been fifteen minutes. What’s she doing up--

“Shit, here we go,” Patrick says.

Carmen watches a status bar on the computer monitor tick up until it’s full and then there she is, floating a few feet away from the camera.

Carmen’s wife never looks different in space like everyone else does.

Space suits Amal, strangely. Her face doesn’t puff up like Carmen’s always had, and her close-cropped hair doesn’t need to be pinned and looped and braided like Carmen’s. No, in zero gravity and halfway to Mars, Amal still looks the same. The bruise-dark smudges beneath her eyes are the only real change.

She needs to sleep.

“She’s too pretty to be real,” Patrick sighs out--and Carmen laughs because their mutual and very gay friend Patrick is the only person in mission control, she thinks, who she doesn’t mind commenting on her wife’s appearance. Coming from anyone else’s mouth, it would either be completely irrelevant or totally inappropriate.

Coming from Patrick it’s ok because he knows she’s thinking the same thing.

Carmen’s heart is full to bursting every time she sees her. That’s part of why Carmen hasn’t been hanging out in mission control. It makes being apart too hard.

They’ve done this before. They got through it. Amal’s first stint on ISS was the hardest, but it all got easier after that. Carmen knows from experience that she deals best with her wife’s absences when she continues on with her own research on earth in the meantime.

This is the part she hates--the part they both try to avoid. These little snippets, these short speeches they deliver and then shoot through space to each other. It’s worse than not communicating at all.

In the fifteen-minute-old video, Amal reaches up to stabilize herself, grabbing handles on either side of the comms unit. It gives Carmen the uncanny feeling that her wife is reaching out, grabbing her by either side of the face, begging her to pay attention.

“I know it’s impossible,” Amal says--and her voice has a ragged edge now. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But I’m not alone in here. And I’m not taking a fucking xanny so that everyone can rest easy about me being sedated. I need to be sober if I’m going to--”

Amal goes still and it takes a beat before Carmen realizes that Patrick has paused the video.

“What’s up?”

“There’s something wrong with the unit,” Patrick says, frowning and leaning in to peer at the monitor closer. “There’s a reflection or--hm. Why’s it doing that?”

Carmen leans in and she sees it now, too. Amal’s face is being reflected in the observation bay window--but that doesn’t make sense.

“It can’t be a reflection,” she says. “It’s behind her.”

The statement makes Carmen shiver. It’s behind her. Like something out of a B-movie. The call’s coming from inside the capsule!

“Weird,” Patrick says. “I used to get rando visual artifacts from transmissions but I thought I fixed that. Whatever, I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

With one hand, Patrick massages the bridge of his nose and with the other, he taps play on the video.

“--figure out who or what is fucking with me up here,” Amal continues.

Carmen’s heart drops. The more Amal talks like this, the more worried she gets. Why won’t Amal just bed down for a few hours? This is ridiculous.

“Anyway, I’ve got it under control, I’m working the problem, and it’s not like you can do anything for me from where you are.”

In the recording, Amal releases the handles and kicks off the wall, tucking her hands behind her head as she floats backwards.

“And Carm? You know I love you baby but the whole Nurse Ratched routine doesn’t really fit for you.”

Carmen rolls her eyes, sighs, leans back in the chair. At the same time, Patrick is leaning forward.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He goes stiff and suddenly he’s holding the desk like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth. “Fuck. No. This isn’t… Carmen, what the fuck?”

She sees it then, the thing that’s set him off.

Amal is moving, drifting, playing it cool like she always does.

Her reflection is doing none of those things.

“It’s not a reflection.”

“It’s a messed up transmission artifact, like you said,” Carmen says shrugging.

“--Also, I totally know you didn’t just drive home without an answer from me, so quit being tacky and lying to me where Patrick can hear.”

Patrick is absolutely still beside her. He’s holding his breath. Why is he holding his breath?

It’s so odd to watch the two images of her wife on the screen: the Amal speaking clearly, joking, ribbing Carmen just like they’re sitting in their living room together, and the Amal who is a mirror image of herself, grainy but still just visible in the background.

“It’s not an artifact, Carmen.”

The reflection takes a breath. The reflection opens its mouth.

Very quietly but unmistakably, the reflection says its own name.

“Amal.”

The Amal in the front, the commander of this mission, hears it just as plainly as they have both heard it down here, so far away in Houston.

Amal’s biceps twitch. Her spine crooks. She falters in the air, moving her limbs to try to move her body, to face the noise, flailing and looking for an instant like someone who doesn’t understand the way a zero gravity environment works.

It’s panic.

She’s panicked.

In the eight years that Carmen has known her wife, she has never seen her panic.

Through fires. Through breaches. Amal doesn’t scare and she certainly does not panic and it is not until this moment that Carmen is truly frightened.

As Carmen watches, the center of her entire universe, the unshakeable core of what has made life bearable, the human vessel into which Carmen has placed all of her hopes for the future fights for leverage in a tin can hurtling towards a planet 55 million miles away.

Finally, Amal kicks a wall and spins to face her reflection--and now Carmen can’t deny it. She’s wrong. It’s not a reflection. It can’t be an artifact. Carmen struggles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Amal faces her double and lets out a single yelp, hoarse and high and odd, a sound Carmen has never heard her make before. Amal--the wrong Amal, the one in the back, the thing that cannot possibly be her--Amal smiles.

Just as it had before, a moment passes before Carmen realizes that the video has stopped. She looks desperately to Patrick, but he hasn’t paused it.

The transmission is simply over.

[corpsentry]

love to block people on the internet. annoying post? Wrong Opinion? luigi inflation art? block block block. block the person who put the post on your tl too. block them all. much simpler and sweeter option than subtweeting them on priv or (god fordbid) typing up an angry response and hitting send imo. imagine how many minutes of being upset you could avoid experiencing. once you hit that block you never have to hear them yap ever again. out of sight out of mind. be generous and kind to yourself; you are not being problematic or cruel by blocking because blocking is truly never that personal (and people who feel it is are small and vicious and need to touch grass) you are taking care of yourself!!!