#the galaxy's sexiest genderfuck trans lady and the galaxy's acest nature photographer are best friends :)

[void-botanist]

hello and how are you?

We had to come scurrying over after we found your WIP Name Game! Honestly, a lot of those names make us want to ask after them, this Work seems to be filled with good things, but!

Can we see something from these parts? Whatever you want to share? ( •̀ω•́ )σ

Farewell to the Ancestors, Tatiana Arvenswold, that secret option from the tags that you want to scream about

Have fun with it too! If ya wanna pass or go wild, then this is your invitation to do so! we're entirely intrigued!

☕ Natsume Rune, @365runesoftheamalgamations

From this list

Thank you so much for the ask! I actually talked about the one that made me want to scream over here, but "queueing" is a similar sort of scene, where Spinder gets into a different unusual conversation. The Nicea has been queueing for a warp transit for hours, Tristan has taken a sleeping pill, and Rodney is left having to make his first non-training warp transit:

The door slid open six inches and Spinder blinked sleepily up at him. “What?” he said with the distance of someone still shaking off a dream. “We’re clear to transit in a few minutes, and I just need someone to sit on the bridge with me while I do it.” He raised his eyebrows but didn’t argue. “Let me get some pants on. I’ll be right there.” The door shut again. Rodney decided to trust him and go back to the pilot’s seat. Tristan’s seat. It felt too big, even though it was only marginally larger than his own. He was about to take the unnecessary step of strapping himself in when he remembered that his coffee was halfway across the bridge and went to grab it. Spinder showed up at the same time, half-covering a massive yawn while he dropped into his usual seat. The pants he’d put on were just the lower half of his flight suit, zipped up to his waist with the sleeves tied over it.

"Farewell to the ancestors" was previously an almost-empty scene where I planned to have Tristan visit the graveyard where most of her family is buried and say goodbye to them before the trip, but this ask made me want to work on it some more:

Tristan climbed to the top of the hill, weaving the familiar path through the generations of her family’s gravestones. At each one, she ran a hand over the small dome carved from the top of the stone, feeling the grooves left by increasing generations of hands. On the oldest markers at the top, the dome had started to become a valley.

And "Tatiana Arvenswold" is one of my favorites. This is deep into their space journey, after assorted disasters, when Spinder and Isabel first meet Tatya, who stays with them pretty much to the end of the book:

Isabel was aware of someone passing their table, but didn’t look up until a pale brown hand rapped on the tabletop. Standing over her was a person whose brown hair seemed to be all cowlicks, even into their loose ponytail, with a scruffy half-attempt at a chinstrap beard and a wide baby-pink collar choker peeking out past the massive triangular lapels of their khaki jacket. They were completely ignoring her in favor of Spinder, and she prepared herself to bolster his defense. “Hey, are you Spinder?” they asked. “You look just like the picture Gwinny sent me.” Spinder blinked. “I am. Are you…the warp witch?” They grinned. “Tatiana Arvenswold at your service. She-her or whatever you feel like.” They turned just enough that Isabel could see the silver heart-shaped ring in the front of their choker. Their eyes lingered on her face, and at first she thought they were looking at her bruises in order to make a dumbass comment about them. Then she got a full once-over, and when their eyes met again Tatiana’s gaze was thirsty. “And who are you?” “I’m Isabel,” she said. “The captain of the Nicea.” “Oh, nice, nice. So, uh, y’all in need of a warp witch? Or a finder?”

Nicea taglist: @kahvilahuhut @malloen8c @outpost51 @writernopal @athenswrites