by DC Bastien
[Sianor: Asdfghjkl.]
[Ashroe: Why don't we write for the show, FML.]
[Sianor: They'd never put the slash in.]
[Ashroe: Bastards. Why not? Everyone knows that fandom is mostly into the manlove. Or sometimes the girllove.]
[Sianor: Because... I don't know why.]
[Ashroe: British TV is much happier doing it, though I guess there's been more LGBTA stuff on the cable channels recently, so... baby steps.]
[Sianor: And it's always the girls who are bi, not the boys.]
[Ashroe: Don't forget: females don't have a sexuality.]
[Sianor: Ahahahahahaha. No. Just because I don't tent my trousers when I'm turned on... oh look, I used a Britishism.]
[Ashroe: *claps* Now you're a real boy! I mean: girl. I mean... oh whatever.]
[Sianor: I also hate when there's queer stuff it's a Big Thing. Like... what is it, ten percent of the population is supposed to be gay?]
[Ashroe: Depends on the terminology. Some reports say 10%, some say 1.5%. Either way, it's a statistically visible number. And I agree, it should just be normal. Like, maybe some people are rude to them for it, but you should also have race or religion or disability or freaking icecream flavour given the same amount of importance.]
[Sianor: Chocolate.]
[Ashroe: Your sexuality is chocolate? ;)]
[Sianor: My sexuality is most definitively chocolate icecream.]
[Ashroe: I change which I like. Sometimes it's Neapolitan. Sometimes it's mint choc chip.]
[Sianor: Chocolate, with hot fudge sauce. And caramelised hazelnuts.]
[Ashroe: *makes a note*]
[Sianor: Get me a sundae like that and I'm yours forever.]
[Ashroe: Wow, really? Most of my dates have been so much more expensive.]
[Sianor: I am cheap. Hahah, no. I'm just... I know what I like.]
[Ashroe: Well, not entirely. Or have you worked out if you like dudebros or girlbros or bothbros yet?]
[Sianor: I have decided I like bros, and what bits the bros have is less important than the broishness.]
[Ashroe: Je approves.]
[Sianor: What about you? You gonna tell me how I can win your heart?]
[Ashroe: An expensive high-end car, a helicopter, a penthouse flat, a swimming pool, a-- okay, that was a bad joke. I am not really a pretentious snob.]
[Sianor: Still, good to have goals!]
[Ashroe: Well... key to my heart is a sense of humour. If I can't laugh at you, and you at me, then there's no point in me continuing a conversation beyond superficial niceties, natch. Uhm... I like it when I have some interests in common, so we have something to talk about. I like it when sometimes our views are different without being utterly incompatible, so talking to someone is worth my breath. I like... writers. Or people who understand writers.]
[Sianor: Soo... *also takes notes* what about your ideal date?]
[Ashroe: Dude, if I have to plan my own date...]
[Sianor: OK, OK, good point.]
[Ashroe: So, this whole 'come to the convention' thing?]
[Sianor: Uhm. Yes?]
[Ashroe: Is that code for 'and then my pants'?]
[Sianor: Would you think I was a terrible person if I said: 'maaaaaaaaaaybe'?]
[Ashroe: I'd think I'd want you to be sure.]
[Sianor: Well. Er. Oh god.]
[Ashroe: It's cool, BB.]
[Sianor: I just... I haven't. You know. Asked... oh god I am such a moron this is the least romantic thing ever.]
[Ashroe: Okay, how about I sign off and pretend this didn't happen?]
[Sianor: Wait, I-- shit.]
[Ashroe is offline.]
[Ashroe is online.]
[Ashroe: Hey! What's up?]
[Sianor: ....hey?]
[Ashroe: So, this convention.]
[Sianor: Will you cosplay my OTP with me?]
[Ashroe: Dude, I am so there.]
[Sianor: And then we can go for... icecream!]
[Ashroe: This is sounding like a good proposition.]
[Sianor: And... a movie! And... a long walk by the beach!]
[Ashroe: I do like piña coladas.]
[Sianor: Awesome.]
[Ashroe: See, it's not that hard.]
[Sianor: Are you shitting me?]
[Ashroe: I would love to go for icecream with you. And... you know. Things. Hey... as long as if it doesn't work out, you don't... you know. Hate my guts and delete everything we ever wrote together and refuse to talk to me and call the cops on me for child abuse or something.]
[Sianor: How about if it doesn't work out I just change my status from 'it's complicated' to 'single'?]
[Ashroe: God, you're going to put this on social media?]
[Sianor: It was a joke!]
[Ashroe: So was mine! Er. Okay, this is a bit... new for me, too. Normally I sort of just go for drinks and flail about a lot and wonder if I am just being too picky or something. I don't normally do it all in words, though in retrospect that's probably why other relationships didn't work out. I... like words. I mean. Written words.]
[Sianor: I'm glad you're as nervous as me.]
[Ashroe: Hah. I'm freaking out, under a superficial level of badass calm.]
[Ashroe: And yes, we can officially say 'it's complicated', if you want.]
[Sianor: I am so bright red right now. I think I stopped breathing for a while.]
[Ashroe: *hums* ...take my breath awaaaaayyyy....]
[Sianor: God, I hate you.]
[Ashroe: Ah, this could be the start of a match made in hell heaven space.]
[Sianor: I'm going to get icecream now. I think I need it.]
[Ashroe: Yeah, it was good for me too, babe. Oh... shit.]
[Sianor: ???]
[Ashroe: Fucking wank bastard dickballs timezone... I have to go back to work tomorrow. Arse brigade!]
[Sianor: Aww.]
[Ashroe: This is totally not because I am freaking out about us. This is totally because I have to smile down the phone tomorrow and say 'yes, I already emailed it to you, did you check the box called 'In' yet?' a hundred times, when... when I would rather... you know.]
[Sianor: I know.]
[Ashroe: Okay. I... I gotta go. I'm so fucking sorry to run out now.]
[Sianor: I understand :)]
[Ashroe: I will email you tomorrow. I promise. Just... gah. Okay.]
[Sianor: Night, sweetie. I'm fine, don't worry!]
[Ashroe: Okay. Okay... I know I keep saying that. I swear I'm going. I... I miss you.]
[Sianor: I miss you too.]
***
Chapter Nine - Mission: Conglomeration
from: Kay
to: Mandy Douglas
date: 8 December 2014 08:56
subject: Good morning, gorgeous
I am so sorry I ran out on you last night, my timing sucks donkey balls. Oh, wait. I'm supposed to be being nice. Er.
Hello, good morning, sunshine, &c &c
I am not very good at being nice. I will try my best, but if you wanted nice you... well. You kind of propositioned the wrong person.
I know you won't get this for hours. I'm sitting waiting for my work's PC to boot up and writing this out on my phone, because it's not something that should go through the work's server, anyway. If I'd been smart I would have gotten up in time to write it on my laptop before work, but then I wouldn't have been up for our sundae plans, sooooo.
I've never done long-distance before. Hell, never really done anything serious. And... I'd like to. Be serious, if it works out. I know it might not, and I should probably be running a mile and saying 'no, no, hell no, oh god no'... oh shit, that sounded bad. I meant... I meant you're a really fucking amazing friend. You're a really lovely woman, and you're an incredible writer, and my permanent foot:mouth intersection could clearly fuck this all up. And I'm old. And... yeah.
But I like you. I mean... I like you. You make me laugh, you make me smile. You brought me ba
ck into the huge-ass world of writing big stories. You know what that means, because it means something to you, too. It's why we had to do a sequel. We had to. There was no two-ways about it.
Oh look, the work's PC is booted. Now for another 10 minutes while it considers loading my workspace. Geez.
I want to write something nice, and pretty, and happy, and lovely... but mostly I am freaking terrified out of my mind of fucking this up. Becoming all puppy-obsessed, and driving you mad. I... I like you, okay. And I want you to promise me that if I drive you mad... well. That we work out some way to just... not hate one another, maybe? If we can. I... I really like you.
Shit.
I am so not cut out for romance. Probably because my idea of it is bitching until it ends up in a kiss. I guess I internalised too much fiction, over the years.
So. Good morning, sunshine. I hope you're okay. If you have reconsidered your fit of hot fudge madness, just... I don't know. Tell me your favourite icecream changed. And I'll lick my wounds.
Wish... wish I was online, at home, right now.
K. x
(See, I was even daring.)
Sent from my comms-device.
----------------
from: Mandy Douglas
to: Kay
date: 8 December 2014 10:01
subject: re: Good morning, gorgeous
And I wake up to such a lovely love-letter, too! I am blessed. You didn't even call me an asshole once! Aww.
I should reply to this when I've had some coffee, but... it feels wrong to leave it sitting in my inbox, unanswered. I want to answer. I should probably also polish my response and edit it, rather than just blurt out the words that come to mind, but the words that come to mind are the ones I think, so there should be some form of truth and beauty to them, even if they ramble incessantly.
I'm sorry I was so awkward, last night. I like you a lot, too. And I didn't know if you'd even consider someone as young as me, or as sick, or as far away... I didn't want to ruin our friendship over something that might have only been one way. But... I'm glad I did. You're always saying how nice I am, but I think you forget you are, too.
And sometimes an asshole, but that's what I love about you, alright?
I still love chocolate icecream most of all. I really, really like it.
We can work out what chocolate icecream means for us, later. But for now... I hope your day has gone well, and you haven't had too many morons to deal with, and you get to come home to me soon.
<3
~ Mandy
Don't mistake my kindness for weakness
----------------
***
[Ashroe: There you are!]
[Sianor: Here I am!]
[Ashroe: I got stuck in a meeting that never, ever ended. Ever. Like... ugh. I wrote 'please go make toast under the smoke detector' to my boss in the minutes, and he just shook his head and we had to carry on being killed by presentation.]
[Sianor: Oh noes!]
[Ashroe: And then I was so bored I started writing ideas for our pairing name. I particularly like Ashror as it sounds like a dinosaur attacking, or something. Sianroe sounds like some weird, twee colour. Then there's Kandy, or MK. And then I thought we could be the MK47 and then I started drawing guns and grenade launchers and depicting the bloody slaughter of all corporate presentations on staff engagement which make you unengaged. Disengaged. Vacant, like a bathroom stall. Whatever. I think my boss now wants to send me for counselling to deal with my rage issues.]
[Sianor: Oh my...]
[Ashroe: I said it didn't count as 'threats to kill' and that it was, instead, a way of processing my negative thoughts in a constructive manner, and also that I was hormonal and if he didn't get me a chocolate biscuit then I might cry.]
[Sianor: Did he?]
[Ashroe: I got two. And a cup of coffee.]
[Sianor: You are my hero.]
[Ashroe: How was your day?]
[Sianor: I have only been up for a few hours!]
[Ashroe: Bitch.]
[Sianor: But it's been alright, I guess. I sent in my last paper for a while. I feel kind of... I'll graduate, soon. And then it'll all be over. It feels weird.]
[Ashroe: And then we can get two elephants and elope.]
[Sianor: Elephants?]
[Ashroe: Elephants are cooler than horses, and can carry more shit. Like a satellite router for our in-the-wilds internet stuffs.]
[Sianor: I see.]
[Ashroe: Alternatively we could get a freaking cool-ass car.]
[Sianor: I don't drive.]
[Ashroe: I do! You can ride shotgun. It will be cool.]
[Sianor: Deal. :)]
[Ashroe: I need to make some foods for the eating thereof. You... want to start of the next scene while I am gone? We can talk about our feelings when I'm not going to starve to death.]
[Sianor: What happened to the cookies you ate?]
[Ashroe: I have a thing called a biscuitabilism. It means biscuits do not affect my metabolism.]
[Sianor: I see.]
[Ashroe: So I'm making pasta. I will make some for you.]
[Sianor: Mmmm. My wench cooks.]
[Ashroe: Sighs. So it's like that, is it?]
[Sianor: Get back in the kitchen, wench!]
[Ashroe: Siryessir.]
***
Waith stood first, opening the shuttle door. He held his hand out for Biann, helping her down the step onto the roof-top landing pad. Although they were only on the roof of the building, she could already tell they'd made a huge leap from their previous location in terms of money and prestige. There was space for at least six crafts of the same size to land here, and two were already sitting side by side on the far end of the pad, all shiny and new. Many expensive craft were not worth the price-tag, and were more status symbols than anything else, but these? These were the real deal. High-end performance, ultimate luxury, reliability and customisation. It made her palms itch to get inside their workings.
Around the edges of the roof there were tall fences, but they didn't seem industrial or unpleasant because creeping, flowering plants wound into the mesh, providing some privacy, too. It was a tall building, and they could see for miles around. The sun had set now, and the skyline was a pleasant blur of dim house-lights and moving vehicles.
The Hleen turned back to their 'host'. "Where are we?"
"Nessin's family maintains a modest building on each planet their company trades on," he explained. "She likes to visit each outpost to ensure she is visible to the workforce, and to ensure that each group is adhering to her high standards."
"...and how many planets is that?" Biann asked.
"Several," was all Waith would say. "She is currently on Jezibe, by chance, and she would very much like to meet you both."
Biann looked up at Kre, but the tall chaplain was giving nothing away. She was the very model of courteous, but off-hand. It could be it was 'by chance', but Biann wouldn't bet her life on it.
"It has been a long time," Kre said, after a lengthy gap in the conversation.
"Oh, you met her, did you?" Waith asked.
Biann was sure there was a little strained note in there, somewhere. Something a bit... off.
"I did. A few times, but never for very long. Her family moves in... privileged circles," Kre said, diplomatically. "They often attended parties that my father also did."
"Can we freshen up before we see her?" Biann asked, sensing the tension in the air. "I don't know about Kre, but I feel sticky and horrible. The place we were at was a bit... of a last minute thing."
"Of course. Nessin would appreciate the gesture, I'm sure." If Waith was being passive-aggressive, it was on a level the other Hleen couldn't begin to detect.
She was starting to feel very, very lost here. The sooner she could get some time alone with Kre, the better.
***
[Sianor: So I drew up a chart. We alternate cooking and cleaning.]
[Ashroe: You know, if you manage to clean my house from that far away, I will cook for you every single night?]
[Sianor: Hey, I made you laugh, didn't I?]
[Ashroe: You did. When I suggested we think about logistics, I meant more about the remoteness, than some imaginary world where you kick me in the night for snoring.]
[Sianor: Oh no, you snore! It's over. We're through.]
[Ashroe: Sleep in the spare room, then. Bone 'n' go.]
[Sianor: Alright, we can work on that one.]
[Ashroe: In all seriousness, though, are we just... adding bits to what we already do? Or, uh...]
[Sianor: Well, I like what we have now. I mean... we're pretty much non-stop in touch anyway. Maybe more than if we were in the same city. Possibly... anything more we feel comfortable with, and see how it goes when we meet in person?]
[Ashroe: Sounds good to me.]
[Sianor: I meant it about the cosplay, though.]
[Ashroe: Hah! And I bet you want to LARP, as well? Hmm. It might be interesting to... play with that.]
[Sianor: So now I totally have to get you a Christmas present.]
[Ashroe: You weren't already? Bitch. Yours is in the post.]
[Sianor: WTF.]
[Ashroe: I wasn't asking for your address for a card, doof. Although I sent one too. And you don't have to get me anything... I'd be happy with a crappy CG pic of our boys or something.]
[Sianor: Well, I can't afford the helicopter yet. Ohh... now I have an idea.]
[Ashroe: Is it a toy helicopter with a dildo strapped on?]
[Sianor: It... wasn't...]
[Ashroe: If those don't exist yet, they should do.]
[Sianor: What about all the chafing from the blades?]
