text | un: v-nikiforov

[genice]

I don't know about the ship's calendar, but I'm going to keep one following the Gregorian calendar back on Earth. That winter themed celebration last night with the sudden intrusive gift problem I faced today reminds me of North American Christmas, so I'm counting today as December 25th!

( happy birthday to himself, he guesses? )

Speaking of, did anyone else find unexpected packages left in their room overnight? Maybe even something alive? I've spent all day trying to figure out what this thing is or what it eats, but even the people who pass as veterinarians here swear they've never seen anything like it.

[ Attachment: 12yHu84.jpg ]

( the attached image is of a brown, poodle-fur tribble wearing a flower crown of yellow daffodils. in the background, an actual poodle can be seen sniffing at the tribble. )

Comments

[genice]

( Fight, run, die, or stay out of the way, mostly. Sometimes none of those are really options. Sometimes they all are. )

Mm. I suspected that might have been the case. ... For what it's worth, I'm sorry to hear that.

( War isn't something to be proud of, not knowing the costs of war even decades after the fact. Or the countless smaller wars that crop up and are stamped out, as if each one is a badge of pride to be worn when you're not wiped off the face of the planet.

He supposes that's a victory either way, albeit a hollow one at times. )

Must make this place a different kind of contrast. For all they don't tell us, I'm not sure it feels like a military run situation.

[ouzel]

It's worth something, [ Cassian assures him, because it does. How much, in the end? He can't tell, but that's okay.

It really is. ]

If it's military run it's on no shoestring, that's for certain. But you're right, we don't feel like conscripts. [ Yet, anyway. ]

[genice]

( THE, NEXT MONTH... but for now, Victor chuckles, moving his hand and picking up the fuzzball that'd shown up that morning to hold it between his palms. )

Not at the moment. We're assigned to jobs at random, based on "experience" the crew has had with people "like us" over the years. It's a curious response. I don't think I've ever seen people integrated quite like this in any group, especially when so thoroughly foreign.

( He lifts his shoulders in a small shrug, looking up from his small fuzzy companion. )

Breaking and entering to leave gifts is a fascinating tradition I hadn't anticipated either. Space is truly captivating.

[ouzel]

That last part I am not terribly fond of. [ It would mean one of two things: one being he shot a (possibly well meaning?) intruder he wasn't expecting and two being that someone could get past him in his sleep. He hopes that neither of those are true at any point in time. ]

Or the part in the middle, actually. I was in the hospital ward so I was a little disoriented by the time I received the introduction speech. This "experience" is determined by what, exactly? What they know about us? What they don't?

[genice]

( Someone rescue this tribble from Victor. He gives it a very small toss of a few centimeters up, catching it gently and lifting it up to his ear.

Still purring What even. )

Oh, according to all the crew I've been taking time to introduce myself to over drinks in their off hours, absolutely nothing. Once upon a time the Eluvio used to conduct interviews and place the anomalies into jobs based on their skills. For some reason that no one could explain, it apparently went poorly. They found a much higher success rate in randomly assigning each person to a position to earn their keep, with no regard for skillsets.

( He rests the tribble against his chest. Victor hasn't been smiling for a while now. )

If you ask me, that sounds much more like keeping people off-center to encourage them to integrate to find stability.

( Which sounds familiar, for all he's not going to mention why. )

[ouzel]

[ It won't be Cassian, unfortunately. He doesn't know what the thing is and has no particular need for pets at the moment.

His eyes do watch the creature, however. It doesn't seem affected by this treatment, so. Mental shrug in Cassian's corner. ]

Have any of them talked about their homeworlds? [ Or is this part and parcel of home for them now? Everyone seems a little too acclimated in Cassian's opinion, but that might be easily explained by the dissatisfied leaving. If he bought that sort of thing. ]

There's a lot of things to do that, isn't there? And yet just enough to keep people comfortable on the other side of things.

It's all too neat. [ Cassian crosses his arms. ]

[genice]

( So the tribble continues its trial by... existence.

Victor gives one abortive shake of his head. )

People might, but most of those I speak with either don't claim to come here as we did, or talked about those who had leaving in other ways. Staying on planets visited, moving off-ship onto space stations, taking positions on other ships.

( Which he also thinks is too neat, to dovetail with what Cassian mentions. It does prompt him into smiling; not without a certain wry humour when he speaks. )

There is. They've even approved the creation of an ice skating rink, after the proper paperwork was filled out and filed. I admit that took me by surprise.

( Yes, he'd asked for it, and hell yes he's planning to skate there when it's manifested, but he'd fully expected to be denied for asking about something so ostentatious and single focused as an ice skating rink. )

[ouzel]

[ Cassian raises his eyebrows at that. ]

An ice rink. Really?

[ He sounds both incredulous and curious. Growing up on an ice planet? He skated once or twice, before everything went to shit. ]

Is that a passion of yours?

[genice]

( The question prompts Victor into a brief bout of genuine laughter. He holds up the tribble with a wink. )

You could say so! I'm a professional figure skater back home. There's a list of very impressive titles attached to my name, but considering my medals are back home with the rest of my career, listing them seems a little silly.

( Down comes the tribble, now casually tucked against his side. Added as a light jest: )

I still could if you wanted.

[ouzel]

Huh. [ Cassian's hands go to the pockets of his jeans but he nods. ] That's really interesting, I mean. I don't get a chance to meet many performers or artists, all things considered.

[ You know. Galactic civil war, and all. ]

Are you going to teach others?

[ That seems like the logical step, there, though he's also trying not to think about how the others would do on ice skates.

He's failing at that, though. Maybe this is what mourning feels like, a collection of what-ifs.

His lips quirk a little. ]

That's all right. I'm afraid it would all go over my head.

[genice]

It's all a little too local, anyway.

( He breathes out in an amused huff, offering a small shrug. )

I'm happy to try. It's something worth sharing if I can, though fair warning to everyone that I only started coaching this last season.

( Sharing his love of the ice, for all he acknowledges to himself that being a perfectionist doesn't make him easy to work with. Yuuri's been... Yuuri had been teaching him how to provide emotional support in addition to technical direction. He was getting better at pulling his inner perfectionist back until his lectures were worth delivering, for the most part. )

I can imagine without arranged performances it's difficult. At the same time, during war is when you might need the occasional distraction most.

[ouzel]

I'm merely curious, not volunteering.

[ Cassian smiles though. It's a nice idea, he thinks, and it'll be good for people. Learn a skill, or acquire a passion. Something. ]

Are they difficult performances to put on? From a behind the scenes standpoint, I mean.

[genice]

Incredibly. The organization between the staff working lighting to sound to the ones orchestrating the seating to the arrangements of performances, to registration, to the judges, to even the fans. Not to mention the amount of blood, sweat, and usually tears that goes into training to the point the professionals do. Then there's costuming, choreography if you're working with a new program or show and aren't a choreographer yourself, music to consider... you can cut out a decent amount of that, but it's still more to wrangle than people might expect.

( His own smile is more relaxed than from earlier, discussing topics that are more out of his hands. )

And if you ever change your mind, consider this a standing offer.

( For the ice skating. )

[ouzel]

Wow. That's both terrifying and impressive on a scale.

[ He wonders how they'd manage it here, with people who have never done that sort of thing.

Droids. Droids would be useful in that regard. ]

Ah. [ He opens his mouth, then closes it. ] ...Thank you. I'll let you know.

[genice]

It is. I wouldn't think anything quite on the competitive scale would work in a place like this... but you don't really need it. Even if I were looking at a solo career in ice shows, all of a sudden.

( He has zero expectations that his career has any actual future in his present circumstances as he'd expected back home. Still, the ice isn't something he can give up on. It has been his life; and it is where he met and pursued a life beyond the performance. It's where he found Yuuri.

He sighs, smile growing wistful. He's still wearing that expression when he tips his head forward, accepting Cassian's statement. If he had to hedge bets, they'd be toward not hearing from him; he has no real opinion on that, one way or the other. It simply is what it is. )

Did you want anything to drink?

( A host's question; did Cassian want to keep talking, or did he have other business he wanted to attend to? Victor leaves both options open, even as his dog slinks closer to sniff again at Cassian's boots. )

[ouzel]

There are games to be played on ice as well, I think? [ Childhood memories are fuzzy and full of pain, but he's pretty sure people skated for fun instead of demonstrating skill.

It isn't that Cassian has no interest in learning it's that everything he's learned for almost the past two decades has been specifically towards the end goal of getting information to the Resistance and keeping himself alive in the process. Without that cornerstone he's a little lost as to what would be useful and what wouldn't be.

But Victor is becoming highly esteemed in his opinion. The man is clearly intelligent and Cassian doesn't mind talking to him, which is nice.

Then again, maybe he's just lonely. ]

Ah. [ A drink? Hm. ] Water would be fine. [ He kneels a little, then, to scratch behind the dog's ears. ] You'll have to forgive me, it's been a while since I've had a chance to really socialize.

[genice]

Oh, certainly. Hockey's one. There are pucks and sticks and goals involved. Lots of padding, too!

( But he holds up his hands when he laughs, considering he doesn't have an vested interest in ice hockey, or much of an explanation to give offhand. He turns, pulling one of the ceramic mugs out of his one cabinet. He locks the latch after; it makes sense that any ship keeps things on lockdown when and where it can. Even (or especially) in space. )

It'll be whatever's on tap, I'm sorry. I'm still looking for a good filter.

( A light statement, and maybe it's meant to be nothing more than light. Systems that recycle and reclaim what they use, even filtering them through living biomes, still carry their own taste to them. It's one to get used to; or it might be other concerns, ones about processing water on ship in a separate capacity... or thinking ahead to being somewhere where it's necessary for other reasons.

By and by, he hands a tap-water filled mug to Cassian. It's just as likely that he's lonely, too. Victor has been too good at living a lifetime of loneliness in spite of being in the limelight of his niche in the world for well over a decade. )

No, no, don't worry about it. Before the last eight months or so, most my social interactions were at press conferences, the rink where I trained, or at events.

( He chuckles, laughing at himself when he reaches out to pat his dog on the shoulder, straightening back to his feet. He ends up moving back to lean against his small counter. )

No time like the present to get the practice in. Did you happen to stop by the Atrium yesterday?