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rainbowfic2015-07-08 04:46 am
starphotographs) wrote in rainbowfic2015-07-08 04:46 am
Blue Opal
Name: starphotographs
Story: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival), Miniature Collection, Saturation
Characters: Kit (POV), Milo, some new and familiar faces who would be spoilers.
Colors: Blue Opal
Word Count: 1,800ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Kit keeps his eyes on a promised future, a new world, an uncertain reunion.
Note: Companion piece and overlapping continuation to Sleep Standing Up!
Walk Under the Stars: Life Across Worlds
Plans
Things are different on Earth. They're not perfect, and they might not even be better, but they're different.
On Earth, you can walk under the stars and sleep with the windows open. You can go swimming in a lake, and climb a tree that isn't underground. You can lie in the grass, and pet strange dogs. The moon is smooth and round.
Not everyone has much more food or money than we do. You're so close to the sun it can burn you. And you're heavier there. But you're not penned in.
At least, that's what he says.
Still remembered after all these years
My first memory is me sitting on the couch, and my brother standing in front of our old television, trying to tell me how it works. I was probably around two or three, so I guess Milo would have been about eight or nine. We're alone in the house, and I don't understand much of what he's talking about.
The next thing I remember is pitching a fit because I thought my sandwich was gross, and Milo saying "well, it's not my fault!" over and over again.
Good advice
We were eating dinner. Or at least, I was. Milo was pushing stuff around on his plate and talking about different subjects that didn't really go together.
"So, Kit, I was reading something interesting today."
"Yeah?"
"You know how you kind of go blank sometimes?"
"Yeah."
He pointed at me with his fork.
"I think you're epileptic."
"How come? I've never had a seizure or anything."
"What I'm saying is, you have."
"...Is there anything we can do about it?"
"Nothing we can afford. Just be careful when you're cooking stuff, alright?"
"Sure."
Harmony
When Milo started working at the plant, I had to get used to being alone.
Turns out, being alone is easier than I thought. I'd read a book. If I could that day, I'd go outside and wander around the development for a while. I'd make bad art, and watch bad TV. Then cook a bad meal that Milo could eat when he got home.
He always said he was grateful. I always said I had fun by myself. And I think we both really meant it.
Neutral
Milo legally adopted me when I was twelve, but I think he expected me to stay a Powell.
I never felt like a Powell, though. That name didn't belong to me. It belonged to someone I barely remembered, who was hardly ever around in the first place. And I never even met my mom, so I didn't think I was a Holt.
When the time came, I already knew. I'd always known.
I'm a Green if I'm anything at all.
Clear head
The world is a blur outside the window. We're heading for the north pole, and then for Earth.
I wonder if this is how Milo saw everything that night, when he came to find me. And I remember him telling me that I was born on a train. That I was born, and our mother died. He never held it against me. I always wanted to ask him why, but it seemed like the kind of thing that didn't have a real answer.
All I know is that tonight, we're finally riding together. That's what matters.
Even keel
Milo was piloting on autopilot. I'd sleep, I'd wake up, and he'd be staring straight ahead, hands on the switches, eyes on the other side of the universe. Sweaty, pale, breathing harshly. I want to tell him that I can drive. That I know how. That I've been paying attention these past three months. That I can make him proud.
When his lungs start gushing blood, I don't have to tell him anything. Just put my hands where his were and hope. Hope he trusts me. Hope he lasts.
The Earth is so blue. He needs to see it.
Placid
They dragged Milo out of the cockpit, and I don't know where they dragged him. Then they dragged me here, and now I'm being processed. They tell me I'm going to Earth. I'll be in a children's home, right back where I started. I wonder what the point of all this even was.
I ask about my brother. All they'll say is something about a secure facility, and that he's currently being detained on the other side of the station. No, I cannot see him.
I don't say anything else. I smile and do what I'm told.
Stable
Milo was a lot older than me, so I never really thought about how young he was, and what a good job he was doing, when you take that into consideration. And I didn't know any different, so I never really took anything into consideration. I whined that my food didn't taste good. I crawled into his bed and woke him up in the middle of my night. I shivered until he let me wear his jacket. All but one of these things continued until I was fourteen.
I guess that's when I started taking things into consideration.
The best laid plans of mice and men
I'm on Earth. This is what he wanted for me.
And all I can think is that it just feels like I'm living an alternate version of my life. One where Milo never existed. I barely remember having parents, but this is the only time I ever felt like I had no one looking out for me. I don't know any of these other kids, and don't really care to. My new glasses are easier to see out of, but make my face not look like my face. I can't walk under the stars. I'm penned in.
Hear both sides
When Milo rode the train all night and came for me, he was two years younger than I am now. I have a hard time getting my head around that. Back then, he seemed big. Maybe not like an adult, exactly, but not like I am now. But he was really just a kid. He was scared. He didn't care that he was scared. Or maybe he did, but he cared about me more. I care about him more, too.
I don't have any excuse. I'm going to find him.
I'm going to try being big.
Practical
Getting out was easy. All I had to do was see a little in the dark and hop a fence. What to do once I was out wasn't always so clear. But Milo always told me I was resourceful. And he usually knew what he was talking about, so I believed him.
I washed car windows for quarters. I slept on display beds at twenty-four-hour stores and told workers that I'd fallen asleep waiting for someone. I went to potlucks at churches I'd never seen before. My brother would have been so proud.
I couldn't wait to tell him.
Timeless
Some days, I'd just sleep under a tree in a park. During the day, it was always warm enough, and the grass was soft. Milo told me about trees. You can cut them open and count the rings to know how old they are. None of the trees I slept under were open, so I couldn't see the rings, but I always tried to guess how many there might have been.
The big ones might have been growing there since before anyone even set foot on Mars.
It scared me sometimes, how old things could get on Earth.
Compromise
One day, I washed a convertible. The man it belonged to was big and strong and redheaded. His name was Sawyer, and, somehow, he wound up inviting me to his house. He apologized for not having any food, but he didn't need to eat and didn't see the point. He kept some beer around "in case people stop by," and offered me a can. I sat on his beanbag and drank it. He also apologized for not having a real couch, but he'd been known to break furniture on accident.
The beanbag was comfortable. I slept well.
Fixed
Sawyer finally asked me what my story was. I told him everything.
After a lot of "Mars, really?" and "Yer shittin' me!" he finally answered for real.
"...This might be a little outta his scope, but I know someone who might help."
We rode with the top down, out of town and through the woods, until we got to a clearing full of little buildings. Sawyer knocked at the door of one of them. The man who answered was so tall his shirt didn't quite connect with his pants.
His name was Satchel. He was going to fix everything.
Realism
After a lot of "...Wait, Mars?" and "Oh my god, I need to call my brother, he's gonna flip a shit." Satchel admitted that this was, indeed, “a little out of his scope.” That he couldn't fix it.
But he knew someone who could.
He grabbed a pen, scribbled an address on a slip of paper, then whipped out his phone and locked himself in the bathroom. I could hear what sounded like a lot of "you're never gonna believe this." and "you were right."
Sawyer shrugged. Satchel never came out of the bathroom. We left without saying goodbye.
Stone in a cool, dark cave
The address was for a black apartment, which belonged to a man who met us wearing nothing but a black bathrobe and a pair of tinted glasses. Tattoos that looked like a dark maze ran all the way down to his knuckles. I wasn't used to tattoos, so I stared. I explained what was going on, but, unlike the last two times, he didn't really react. He just yelled for someone named Zach to go to the corner store and buy him an energy drink. Then he sat down at his computer to work.
He was going to fix everything.
Calmed the savage beast
I was the one who had to fix everything.
We were told where he was, but the rest was up to us. Sawyer is too heavy on his feet. And Milo always told me I was resourceful. I went alone.
I bribed an orderly to shut off the power, tell me where to find my brother, and shred his records. She shrugged, and I thought she was going to say no. But she said, "alright."
Milo was asleep, and it took a lot to get him up and walking, but we managed.
I thought, "now we're almost even."
Like the last time I saw them
Milo hadn't changed a bit. He looked too skinny, and his eyes seemed empty, and his hair was starting to grow in brown again, but he still hadn't changed. He was smart, and gentle, and smiling. At least, when he was awake. Most of the ride, he slept in the back seat, with his head in my lap. I realized he wasn't going to be able to protect me anymore. And I didn't care. He'd carried me too long, anyway. It was my turn now.
I had Sawyer pull over at a rest stop. We walked under the stars.
starphotographsStory: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival), Miniature Collection, Saturation
Characters: Kit (POV), Milo, some new and familiar faces who would be spoilers.
Colors: Blue Opal
Word Count: 1,800ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Kit keeps his eyes on a promised future, a new world, an uncertain reunion.
Note: Companion piece and overlapping continuation to Sleep Standing Up!
Things are different on Earth. They're not perfect, and they might not even be better, but they're different.
On Earth, you can walk under the stars and sleep with the windows open. You can go swimming in a lake, and climb a tree that isn't underground. You can lie in the grass, and pet strange dogs. The moon is smooth and round.
Not everyone has much more food or money than we do. You're so close to the sun it can burn you. And you're heavier there. But you're not penned in.
At least, that's what he says.
My first memory is me sitting on the couch, and my brother standing in front of our old television, trying to tell me how it works. I was probably around two or three, so I guess Milo would have been about eight or nine. We're alone in the house, and I don't understand much of what he's talking about.
The next thing I remember is pitching a fit because I thought my sandwich was gross, and Milo saying "well, it's not my fault!" over and over again.
We were eating dinner. Or at least, I was. Milo was pushing stuff around on his plate and talking about different subjects that didn't really go together.
"So, Kit, I was reading something interesting today."
"Yeah?"
"You know how you kind of go blank sometimes?"
"Yeah."
He pointed at me with his fork.
"I think you're epileptic."
"How come? I've never had a seizure or anything."
"What I'm saying is, you have."
"...Is there anything we can do about it?"
"Nothing we can afford. Just be careful when you're cooking stuff, alright?"
"Sure."
When Milo started working at the plant, I had to get used to being alone.
Turns out, being alone is easier than I thought. I'd read a book. If I could that day, I'd go outside and wander around the development for a while. I'd make bad art, and watch bad TV. Then cook a bad meal that Milo could eat when he got home.
He always said he was grateful. I always said I had fun by myself. And I think we both really meant it.
Milo legally adopted me when I was twelve, but I think he expected me to stay a Powell.
I never felt like a Powell, though. That name didn't belong to me. It belonged to someone I barely remembered, who was hardly ever around in the first place. And I never even met my mom, so I didn't think I was a Holt.
When the time came, I already knew. I'd always known.
I'm a Green if I'm anything at all.
The world is a blur outside the window. We're heading for the north pole, and then for Earth.
I wonder if this is how Milo saw everything that night, when he came to find me. And I remember him telling me that I was born on a train. That I was born, and our mother died. He never held it against me. I always wanted to ask him why, but it seemed like the kind of thing that didn't have a real answer.
All I know is that tonight, we're finally riding together. That's what matters.
Milo was piloting on autopilot. I'd sleep, I'd wake up, and he'd be staring straight ahead, hands on the switches, eyes on the other side of the universe. Sweaty, pale, breathing harshly. I want to tell him that I can drive. That I know how. That I've been paying attention these past three months. That I can make him proud.
When his lungs start gushing blood, I don't have to tell him anything. Just put my hands where his were and hope. Hope he trusts me. Hope he lasts.
The Earth is so blue. He needs to see it.
They dragged Milo out of the cockpit, and I don't know where they dragged him. Then they dragged me here, and now I'm being processed. They tell me I'm going to Earth. I'll be in a children's home, right back where I started. I wonder what the point of all this even was.
I ask about my brother. All they'll say is something about a secure facility, and that he's currently being detained on the other side of the station. No, I cannot see him.
I don't say anything else. I smile and do what I'm told.
Milo was a lot older than me, so I never really thought about how young he was, and what a good job he was doing, when you take that into consideration. And I didn't know any different, so I never really took anything into consideration. I whined that my food didn't taste good. I crawled into his bed and woke him up in the middle of my night. I shivered until he let me wear his jacket. All but one of these things continued until I was fourteen.
I guess that's when I started taking things into consideration.
I'm on Earth. This is what he wanted for me.
And all I can think is that it just feels like I'm living an alternate version of my life. One where Milo never existed. I barely remember having parents, but this is the only time I ever felt like I had no one looking out for me. I don't know any of these other kids, and don't really care to. My new glasses are easier to see out of, but make my face not look like my face. I can't walk under the stars. I'm penned in.
When Milo rode the train all night and came for me, he was two years younger than I am now. I have a hard time getting my head around that. Back then, he seemed big. Maybe not like an adult, exactly, but not like I am now. But he was really just a kid. He was scared. He didn't care that he was scared. Or maybe he did, but he cared about me more. I care about him more, too.
I don't have any excuse. I'm going to find him.
I'm going to try being big.
Getting out was easy. All I had to do was see a little in the dark and hop a fence. What to do once I was out wasn't always so clear. But Milo always told me I was resourceful. And he usually knew what he was talking about, so I believed him.
I washed car windows for quarters. I slept on display beds at twenty-four-hour stores and told workers that I'd fallen asleep waiting for someone. I went to potlucks at churches I'd never seen before. My brother would have been so proud.
I couldn't wait to tell him.
Some days, I'd just sleep under a tree in a park. During the day, it was always warm enough, and the grass was soft. Milo told me about trees. You can cut them open and count the rings to know how old they are. None of the trees I slept under were open, so I couldn't see the rings, but I always tried to guess how many there might have been.
The big ones might have been growing there since before anyone even set foot on Mars.
It scared me sometimes, how old things could get on Earth.
One day, I washed a convertible. The man it belonged to was big and strong and redheaded. His name was Sawyer, and, somehow, he wound up inviting me to his house. He apologized for not having any food, but he didn't need to eat and didn't see the point. He kept some beer around "in case people stop by," and offered me a can. I sat on his beanbag and drank it. He also apologized for not having a real couch, but he'd been known to break furniture on accident.
The beanbag was comfortable. I slept well.
Sawyer finally asked me what my story was. I told him everything.
After a lot of "Mars, really?" and "Yer shittin' me!" he finally answered for real.
"...This might be a little outta his scope, but I know someone who might help."
We rode with the top down, out of town and through the woods, until we got to a clearing full of little buildings. Sawyer knocked at the door of one of them. The man who answered was so tall his shirt didn't quite connect with his pants.
His name was Satchel. He was going to fix everything.
After a lot of "...Wait, Mars?" and "Oh my god, I need to call my brother, he's gonna flip a shit." Satchel admitted that this was, indeed, “a little out of his scope.” That he couldn't fix it.
But he knew someone who could.
He grabbed a pen, scribbled an address on a slip of paper, then whipped out his phone and locked himself in the bathroom. I could hear what sounded like a lot of "you're never gonna believe this." and "you were right."
Sawyer shrugged. Satchel never came out of the bathroom. We left without saying goodbye.
The address was for a black apartment, which belonged to a man who met us wearing nothing but a black bathrobe and a pair of tinted glasses. Tattoos that looked like a dark maze ran all the way down to his knuckles. I wasn't used to tattoos, so I stared. I explained what was going on, but, unlike the last two times, he didn't really react. He just yelled for someone named Zach to go to the corner store and buy him an energy drink. Then he sat down at his computer to work.
He was going to fix everything.
I was the one who had to fix everything.
We were told where he was, but the rest was up to us. Sawyer is too heavy on his feet. And Milo always told me I was resourceful. I went alone.
I bribed an orderly to shut off the power, tell me where to find my brother, and shred his records. She shrugged, and I thought she was going to say no. But she said, "alright."
Milo was asleep, and it took a lot to get him up and walking, but we managed.
I thought, "now we're almost even."
Milo hadn't changed a bit. He looked too skinny, and his eyes seemed empty, and his hair was starting to grow in brown again, but he still hadn't changed. He was smart, and gentle, and smiling. At least, when he was awake. Most of the ride, he slept in the back seat, with his head in my lap. I realized he wasn't going to be able to protect me anymore. And I didn't care. He'd carried me too long, anyway. It was my turn now.
I had Sawyer pull over at a rest stop. We walked under the stars.
no subject
"Timeless" is my favorite and I just adore how you tied everything together. You're really good at that.
Is it wrong I LOLed like a ninny that Satchel just... stayed in the bathroom? XD
no subject
...I'll cop to laughing at my own writing there.
I just... Dude forgets about houseguests because he's locked in the john, validating his nutty brother's conspiracy theories.
no subject
Hey, that's a sign of loving what you do. GO FOR IT.
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"Harmony" was really lovely.
His name was Satchel. He was going to fix everything. <-- Oh, I love you, Satchel.
I'm so proud of Kit
no subject