Real

What is and what isn't. What's been too long neglected. 

Always strangers, though.

Will we still all be strangers after centuries of this, defined by our first years in the cradles of our kin?

We need specialists in new fields: things like "reconditioning bodies after long-term storage without actually changing them" and "really long-term relationship management".

Tumbling

They lined the systems up, and knocked them down. It didn't go quite as they'd hoped: we held our fortresses and made them pay dearly for our farms. We spoiled their plans of cashing out most profitably, and take some pleasure in that.

And then we started work to take it all back.

Nulli left, having done as much as it could do, and having a timeframe to leave to do Important Things with golden ships. Fweddit switched allegiance. The swarm decided to speculate on our success again. 

In another theatre the Caldari are pushing hard. Our old allies may need our aid.

Not the only Caldari on my mind.

Once I would've chastised myself for my taste and choices. Now I know that others will do that for me, so it's attended to. That leaves me free to feel, and think, and shape will into words. To consider morale and consistency, and the joy that cuts through the grind and makes it seem worthwhile again.

He turned up in my home fortress. Harassed our foes; worked with our fleets; was shot by one of our blues. Left a jump clone with me. He was irrepressible: the energy enthralling even as it seemed a form of madness. And he asked if I'd come and visit him. Couldn't get me safe passage or docking rights, though.

I haven't used InterBus for ages. Years, I think.

Until yesterday. Lust, curiosity and adventure are strong persuaders.

Hadn't had a soft scan done in a while, either. Slightly grotty headache and taste of metal. Always makes me wish I could take out my implants and clean them.

So here I am, under the cool glow of Deklein's skies, in the Isararach.

His implants mean his combat clones run hot. We share fevered joining and some of the most analytical pillow talk I've ever known. It intrigues me.

I'm growing fond of him, bonding over time and pleasures shared. Our lives do not fit together. I don't want to force them to. I like these stolen days. 

We have Kamela now.

Circling

A week of tracking and buzzing away at the vulnerable system count as the Mary militia and nullsec associates try to lay out their set of dominoes. It's been enjoyable work, despite the official seriousness of the situation. Weather reports say incoming thunderstorm soon.

In my quarters as I write my reports I wrap myself in a jacket far too big, enfolded in its firm and unfamiliar warmth. Then I hang it up, push the furniture aside, and dance.

Words

At last I'm finding them. Flowing through me. Anticipating, based on what I've learnt.

I don't need to drive toward the same obstacles. I can talk about them; steer a course.

I like this. It's exciting and exhilarating in its own way.

And wildly, wildly inappropriate.

I've barely stopped grinning.

Impressions

Intrigue, banter
Contention, concern

Another damaged giant
This deep-thinking clown

Nightmare screams...

Lullabies in lost language
Soothed in safe arms