(4) [audio // locked to Sabriel // 10% unhackable]

[aprimemover]

Sabriel, do you, uh...want to get a drink or something?

[The Rowan's not good at socializing. She's had no practice.

...Or technology. She selected the "lock" option WHY ISN'T THAT GOOD ENOUGH.]

Comments

[Audio // locked, 10% unhackable]

[aprimemover]

Sergei's is fine.

Uh...when are you free?

[Yeah like anyone on this boat has anything but free time.]

[Audio // locked, 10% unhackable] / [commentlog]

[aprimemover]

Oh, that's fine. I'll be down in a moment.

[It's actually closer to ten minutes, since the Rowan goes and nervously checks herself in the bathroom mirror beforehand, losing track of time while she once again comes to the conclusion that there's nothing she can do about her looks.

Then, realizing she's lost track of time and is probably keeping her maybe-friend waiting, she checks Sergei's with clairvoyance, teleports into the empty women's room, and emerges, looking for Sabriel. It's not rude if no one sees you do it!]

[commentlog]

[aprimemover]

[The Rowan smiled, only slightly nervously. It probably only showed a little.]

Ah. Hello. A glass of wine, I guess? I don't really care which.

[She slides onto a barstool with the lack of ease of someone who doesn't spend much time sliding onto barstools.]

[commentlog]

[aprimemover]

I was tired. And. I...didn't see much to celebrate.

[The Rowan looked down into her wineglass. Jennifer was just a scared child.]

The ship? It's about what I'm used to.

[commentlog] I deleted the notif I AM SO SORRY ;A;

[aprimemover]

I live somewhere I can't leave, and there aren't many people there.

This place is actually bigger. I haven't had this much space in a while.

[The stateroom's too small, though. Can't win 'em all.

She shrugs and tries her drink. Dry, crisp, and cold. David from Procyon had compared her to a white like that, once.]

[commentlog] I was like "god, she's taking foreve--SHIT." >_<

[aprimemover]

Primes get horrible motion sickness when they teleport interplanetary distances. After I left Altair for Callisto, I was bedridden for a week and couldn't do my job for almost a month.

[The Rowan shudders at the memory of the awful spinning darkness of that 'port.]

So I'm stuck on Callisto because the League can't spare me.

[Is that bitterness?

Why yes, yes it is.]

[commentlog]

[aprimemover]

The Talent itself? No. The degree to which I manifest it? Yes.

[The Rowan takes something more than a sip but not quite a slug of her wine.]

It's not complicated. I just throw things from planet to planet. Ore, finished goods, people.

[She makes a dismissive gesture.]

Glorified pack mule.

[commentlog]

[aprimemover]

[The Rowan looks at Sabriel with a blank lack of comprehension.]

Talent is the only thing that breaks the light barrier. We're all that holds the Nine-Star League together.

[She has never in all her life considered doing anything but serve as a Prime.]

...I'm not sure I if I miss home or not. I suppose it's clearer-cut for other people.