fic: R+C; Pangaea Lacrimosa
Rating: K+/PG
Genre: uh. Sadfic I think.
Characters/Pairings: Alister, Alister's ship (Pangaea); gen
Crossposted to dA.
Inspired by PotatOS Lament. (Listen to it. Seriously.)
There is a thriving community of Vullards not a kilometer away, and yet Alister is very nearly alone.
Sometimes, very rarely, he wishes he was truly alone. Sometimes he wishes that Pangaea had died on Fastoon. He always feels guilty and disgusted with himself after, but here and now....
He sits in the cliff face, his supper cooking over the fire beside him. Pangaea is ten meters away, at the main entrance to the pile of scrap that's now his home. He knows it's not just the ship there; this has happened enough that he knows she's materialized her hologram on the nose of the ship.
He's only ever looked at what now passes for Pangaea's hologram once. Never again.
It isn't scarred. It isn't burned. It looks like it did the day she designed it. But the detailing only appears in flickering patches, and the polygonal underlay is distorted or in some places missing entirely. Every so often something will go wrong in the display and its face or limbs will glitch and spasm.
She only creates it when she sings.
She'd never sung, before. No one had ever asked, and she had never offered. Alister doubts that she had ever considered it.
"The breath dreams as the starry universe serenades...."
He doesn't understand most of what she sings. Half of it is nothing more than gibberish syllables, and most of the rest seems to be unrelated words strung together. Something sensible will appear, every now and then, and that's when Alister closes his eyes.
"Fastoon and her daughters, the long sleep under the alligator sky...."
The sun sets in the Hollow, and Pangaea's eerie, echoing voice continues through the night.
Genre: uh. Sadfic I think.
Characters/Pairings: Alister, Alister's ship (Pangaea); gen
Crossposted to dA.
Inspired by PotatOS Lament. (Listen to it. Seriously.)
There is a thriving community of Vullards not a kilometer away, and yet Alister is very nearly alone.
Sometimes, very rarely, he wishes he was truly alone. Sometimes he wishes that Pangaea had died on Fastoon. He always feels guilty and disgusted with himself after, but here and now....
He sits in the cliff face, his supper cooking over the fire beside him. Pangaea is ten meters away, at the main entrance to the pile of scrap that's now his home. He knows it's not just the ship there; this has happened enough that he knows she's materialized her hologram on the nose of the ship.
He's only ever looked at what now passes for Pangaea's hologram once. Never again.
It isn't scarred. It isn't burned. It looks like it did the day she designed it. But the detailing only appears in flickering patches, and the polygonal underlay is distorted or in some places missing entirely. Every so often something will go wrong in the display and its face or limbs will glitch and spasm.
She only creates it when she sings.
She'd never sung, before. No one had ever asked, and she had never offered. Alister doubts that she had ever considered it.
"The breath dreams as the starry universe serenades...."
He doesn't understand most of what she sings. Half of it is nothing more than gibberish syllables, and most of the rest seems to be unrelated words strung together. Something sensible will appear, every now and then, and that's when Alister closes his eyes.
"Fastoon and her daughters, the long sleep under the alligator sky...."
The sun sets in the Hollow, and Pangaea's eerie, echoing voice continues through the night.