2023-09-13: Coming Home to Roost
- Cast: Rita Bernal, Trevor Teach
- Where: The Ra Mari II
- Date: U.C. 0097 09 13
- Summary: Well, the thing about phoenixes...
<Pose Tracker> Trevor Teach has posed.
Trevor Teach has had... a night.
After the victory at Denver Colony, he had returned Isadore to the Ra Mari II and retired to his quarters without speaking hardly a word to anybody. Uncharacterstically, he also ordered takeout from the cafeteria, rather than spending the time ruminating on the consequences of triumph (and reveling in it, to some degree) with the others. He was, to put it lightly, somewhat moody.
He also had every intent of drinking until the pain of loss disappeared in a haze of alcohol and drunken revelry. On every ship he spent much time on, Trevor came into the habit of stowing spirits away in vents, under beds, in conveniently concealed crawlspaces and elsewhere that could reasonably evade scrutiny. And of course, he kept some in his quarters.
...And after what had happened, after the utter emotional exhaustion that came from combating Yuliana, surviving the sorrow of the ghosts of Denver, and losing Rita--
He had to do something. Anything, to dull the pain.
So he drank. He drank and he drank, and he cried and he yelled, until night turned to day and at last the embrace of sleep took him.
...
It's been several hours since then. Trevor's room is a mess. He wasn't sleeping in his hammock, but rather in a heap of bundled cloth-- including what he had been wearing the night before-- on the floor. Nearby, an empty bottle of whiskey has rolled to a stop at the foot of his bed-turned-storage pile.
His hammock swings overhead, empty. Above that--
Above that is Yaro, who has been somehow ensnared in rope rigged with all the grace of an overcaffeinaed spider spinning its web. It's wearing Trevor's eyepatch on its non-patched eye. Double eyepatched Yaro is secured safely at least, poor thing.
...
At last, there's movement. Trevor twitches, rolls over, and stares blearily into the ceiling. His head is pounding.
And the worst thing is that he can still remember yesterday.
<Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed.
How much can happen in a night?
After the end of the battle, Koji Kabuto and Sayaka Yumi took the Phenex back to Earth in the hopes of repairing her. Once before, the Gundam was worn to tatters, burning Rita's spirit away, and restoring it allowed the Newtype spirit to return. Perhaps that Miracle may be repeated. There have been so many in the past few weeks, what's one more?
But she has not appeared yet. There are no signs of life, or after-life, from the Phenex. With her last words, Rita promised to bring the children of Denver Colony to the next life, and proclaimed her path over. Has she left them?
The night passes. Morning arrives.
Tap tap tap.
Someone is at the door. The knocking is politely quiet, as if whoever is out there is aware of Trevor's hungover state.
Tap tap tap.
...but it seems they're fairly impatient. The second set of taps comes only a few seconds after the first.
Tap tap tap.
With Trevor's powerful Newtype senses, he may be able to feel a burst of psychic power approaching. Whatever it is passes through the wall, landing silently atop Trevor's chest.
A bird! A familiar, radiant bird. She looks at the pirate with glimmering eyes of incandescent color. It's impossible to tell the creature's emotion, but she is /warm/ where she perches on the pirate's chest.
After a moment, she leans forward and speaks, her 'voice' echoing into Trevor's heart.
You have a delivery. Please open the door.
<Pose Tracker> Trevor Teach has posed.
Tap tap tap.
"mgnghtmfdsh," Trevor's response is as emphatic as it is incomprehensible. As if to emphasize his feelings on the subject of Waking Up, he pulls his tangled sheets up over his eyes. This does absolutely nothing; there is no sunlight here. In fact, there is basically no sunlight on Vesta either. When did he get into doing something like this as a habit?
Perhaps it's just a natural impulse, shared by all living things. When being awoken, shove face into blankets. It's only right and natural.
...Tap tap tap.
A few seconds after the first. Trevor groans and flops an arm up over his cloth-covered eyes. The pressure feels good, but his brain still hurts.
Tap tap tap!
A wave of psychic power. A familiar warmth spreads through Trevor's bare chest as a familiar little bird roosts atop him.
Trevor's eyes flutter open and stare as a terribly unmistakable voice rings through his very being.
"...I must still be dreaming," he mutters. ...Or he drank himself dead and this is the other side. Do dead people have headaches? Trevor is pretty sure that it'd be a damn cruel afterlife if they did.
But, that little bird can't be real, can it...?
She's gone, isn't she?
He reaches a couple fingers out as if to touch it, his eyes moistening with tears. Is it real...? A... delivery...? At his door...?
<Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed.
The little bird flaps her wings as Trevor reaches out. She's illusory. The pirate's hand goes right through her, but she doesn't fade or vanish at his touch. She is, for all that it matters, very present and very real. At least, in her own way.
Trevor!
A familiar voice giggles softly. It's fainter than it usually is, with an edge of soul-deep exhaustion.
If you're not opening the door, I will.
With a tilt of her head, Trevor's door slides open. Waiting outside is a... floating machine, of some kind. It almost looks like a pedestal. Trailing behind the device is a long, long extension cord, stretching off into the distance. Carefully, the machine is maneuvered through the doorway and placed down onto a precious few square feet of clean space.
The door slides closed.
Koji Kabuto gave me a gift, when I was hiding in the Photon Power Laboratory. It allows me to present myself as a physically-solid being in an enclosed space. Just a second, please.
With a raise of her wings, the little bird collapses, falling to nothing but glimmering sparkles atop Trevor's chest. In the same moment, the machine hums to life, and pixels begin to appear above the central platform. They gather, forming into a humanoid shape. Once the shape is complete, it begins to refine. A dress is formed. Long hair appears. Little by little, the image of Rita Bernal is projected.
Green eyes blink open, landing on Trevor. A sweet, soft smile crosses her face, and she approaches him.
Rita's dress is made of flowing, light fabric. Brilliant red and laying across her hardlight body in a romantic cut, it's very reminiscent of the outfit Rita wore in Trevor's dream, long ago.
"Trevor." She kneels next to him. "I'm so sorry I kept you waiting. I couldn't leave the children alone. But, you know?"
Another little laugh. Rita tilts her head, letting her golden hair fall across one of her shoulders. "You should've expected this! Don't you know the story of the phoenix?"
Rita's expression grows more serious, and she reaches out for Trevor's hand with both of her own. "Just kidding. I promise, I'm done with dying."
<Pose Tracker> Trevor Teach has posed.
The fact that the little bird is illusory paradoxically confirms that this isn't a dream. After all, a dream bird should be able to interact with a dream Trevor. But Trevor is not the wisest man in the world, and his thoughts don't immediately process those kinds of proofs, even if they weren't bogged down by a night of heavy drinking and the full force of the ensuing hangover.
Besides, he's-- a little too distracted by other things.
Like the fact that Rita is apparently about as alive as a psychic space ghost can get.
Or, perhaps more pressingly to a saner mind, that she's opening his door while he's in his skivvies.
The door slides open. Then shut again. And in comes...
Some... kind of machine. "Rita, you--"
The little bird disappears, and for a split second, Trevor's addled mind feels a sharp spike of panic. But then the machine activates, and an entirely man-mande miracle unfolds in front of him. Trevor scrambles to his feet, almost trips over his bundle of sheets, nearly gets himself entangled in his hammock, and by the time he's decided to settle on just sitting up, Rita is fully manifested.
His jaw hangs open, just a little bit.
"It's you," his voice creaks. The story of the phoenix, but-- but every other story he read was telling him, that was the end. That Rita had performed a final sacrifice and in so doing saved the world and those ghosts besides. But she's here, and she's touching his hand--
And he launches into a tight hug, "I can't believe it. You're-- you're really here. I thought... Everything felt so /final./" He pulls away, hands still resting on her shoulders, "...When you said you were bringing them to the other side, I thought for sure you were going with them. But here you are, I almost can't believe it. Are... are you okay?"
<Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed.
It doesn't matter that Trevor is nearly naked. Rita's been an experiment and a soldier her entire life, and neither of those categories are offered much modesty or privacy.
Or at least, it /shouldn't/ matter.
As Trevor comes back into focus, Rita finds herself flushing. He looks nice like this. Is that the right word? She finds herself wanting to look at him more. Rita tilts her head slightly, puzzled at these new feelings. Trevor is Trevor, right? What's changed?
"It's -- oh!"
Trevor launches himself at Rita, and she holds him tightly, enhanced by her psychic ability. Rita is far too slight to carry Trevor's weight on her physical mgiht alone.
But this... is also nice. Even if she can't feel him, being close to Trevor... Rita's always liked hugs, but this feels even better than usual.
"It was the end of the path." Rita says, as Trevor pulls away. "I'm very tired. I think I've stayed like this for too long. It was very difficult to leave the children in the next life and return." A pause. "...I should be past Jupiter by now. The Phenex is too powerful to exist in this world. I always planned on leaving once the monster was slain. But."
She pauses. It's difficult to admit to this selfishness. Instead, Rita looks into Trevor's eyes, finding them just as nice to look at as the rest of his body. She smiles, warmly, bringing one of her hardlight hands up to trace his cheekbone.
"...I couldn't do it. So many people have told me I need to live. I just didn't... want to. I didn't want to go. Even though the universe is beautiful, and exciting, it wasn't worth what I was going to be leaving behind." Rita's smile wavers, as if she's expecting Trevor to scorn her for this.
"I don't know what's going to happen. I've never been able to see further than the end of the path, not for anything /really/ important. I don't know if I'm making the right decision." Rita mumbles, uncertain and clearly frightened. "But I've never gotten to make decisions of my own. I want to try it. I want to..."
She works up another smile. "I want to see the things you promised me. Is that still okay?"
"Are you okay, Trevor? Both with... showing me things, and as a person?" Rita looks around his space for the first time. Trevor seems to own more clothing than Rita has ever seen in one place before. It's exciting! But she tamps down on the feeling, looking back to the handsome pirate before her. "I know I must've hurt you. I'm... I'm so sorry, there was so little time."
<Pose Tracker> Trevor Teach has posed.
Even with a lifetime spent in microgravity at best, Trevor's physique is well-built, though cris-crossed in the scars of a life hard lived. Surely, this too is the result of the genetic cocktail that went into his creation. On some level, there is a part of him that is Zentraedi, a race famous for being able to survive long periods of time in space with little to no physical degradation. There might be something there that resonates with the foggy details of his origin; someone needed a being capable of readily and reliably developing to maturity in space.
But that is, ultimately, tertiary at best to the miracle unfolding here.
Trevor finds himself lost in her eyes. Green, a color that he didn't truly understand until he came to Earth. It's one thing to know it by the colors of a hydroponics bay, another entirely to see a tropical forest. And another still to be seeing them as emerald-clear as this. But her words snap him out of his reverie.
"I think," he places his hand atop hers, marveling for a moment at the fact that she's /really/ here. Or, as close to it without having some kind of robot body. "I think you're obligated to be a little selfish at this point, Rita. A life with the people you love-- Who says it's any less beautiful or exciting than the universe beyond the Kuiper Belt?"
"And-- besides," Trevor smiles, in spite his pounding skull, "It means you're here with me, and there's no way I could be unhappy about that. Whatever happens, I'm sure of that."
He shakes his head, bringing her back into a hug. "Of course it's still okay. I'm going to show you everything I promised and more still. There's so much on Earth I've never seen before, and I want you there with me for as many of them as you can be."
"I'm... just glad that you're still here. It's okay. The only thing I can possibly blame you for, I wouldn't give up for the world." Trevor's room /is/ a Place Of Fashion, this is true. It's-- eclectic and maybe a little much, but this too is treasure. "So don't ever feel bad about making me fall in love," he brushes a hand across her forehead and leans in to plant a kiss on her brow, "'Cause I wouldn't trade it for anything, no matter how much it had hurt."
<Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed.
Scars are something Rita and Trevor share. Though she's chosen to manifest without them this time, he's certainly seen them before, in her other appearances. They certainly don't affect Rita's opinion of Trevor, or the way he looks, adversely. If anything, she feels a bit more at ease, knowing they have a shared experience.
The look in his eyes, the emotion radiating off him... It's something new. Something Rita hasn't experienced. Something Rita /wants/ to experience. She finds herself content to look back at him, at least for the moment.
Trevor encourages Rita to be selfish, and a new light dances in her eyes. Touching her hand, he offers her a life, beautiful and exciting in its own way. "Really?" She breathes, still unsure. This idea is the opposite of everything she's survived for. It feels impossible, far more impossible than any of her Miracles.
Rita laughs softly as Trevor hugs her again, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Yes! I want to see!"
Content to stay in his embrace for a moment, Rita lays her head against Trevor's chest. It isn't until he speaks again that she reacts. Oh. Oh..!
"You meant it." Rita says, softly. "You meant it. It wasn't to make me happy if I was leaving?"
Trevor kisses her forehead. It feels real, even if she can't have the physical sensation of the action. This is something new. Something Rita never, ever foresaw. A part of her wants to shrink back into the Phenex, but that part is vanishingly small.
It's okay to be selfish, Trevor said. Rita chooses to believe him.
"You meant it!" Rita laughs, beaming. "I won't, I won't! I'll never feel bad! I really --!" A pause, as she pulls back to look into his eyes again. "I've never -- I never. It doesn't matter, does it? I really... I love you too. I want to see everything the world has to offer, as long as I can be with you."
Another little laugh. "If it's with you, I wouldn't mind watching paint dry. And if I can be selfish..."
A mischievous spark enters Rita's eyes. At random, one of Trevor's shirts floats up from the floor, approaching the pair. With only minor difficulty, Rita settles it over her projected form. It lays nicely against the hardlight body -- a testament to Koji Kabuto's ability, surely.
"I want this." She says, but there's a question in her eyes. Is it okay? She'll give the shirt right back if it isn't.
<Pose Tracker> Trevor Teach has posed.
Scars are just a legend of survival etched into the body. Trevor sees no shame in wearing them like a coat of arms. Even for a spirit like Rita, the scars she sometimes exposes part of what makes her who she is.
And as the saying goes, scarred souls shine like stars.
"Absolutely," Trevor answers with a confident smirk. "You've given your life and then some to bring hope to the world! That's way more than pretty much anyone could ever sacrifice. So, yeah! I think you're entitled to some selfishness. And if anyone says otherwise, I'll just have to convince them otherwise."
With a punch to the head. Potentially.
He meant it?
"I did," he answers again. And this time it's his turn to be a little sheepish, a very real redness spreading across-- basically the whole of his face and up across his ears. He scratches his cheek, "It wouldn't have hurt so much if I didn't. If it weren't for you, I'd still be spinnin' my wheels somewhere, not knowing what I really wanted to do. You're important to me in a way nobody's been before. So. Yeah."
She loves him too. Trevor smiles, truly and sincerely, "It's a deal, then. I won't let you back out of it so easi--"
That's his shirt.
He blinks, then laughs. "Take it! It's yours! Though now I'm half tempted to drag you out to a shop and dress you up proper."
He's still got a nice little nest egg from that pile of treasure she led him to that one time, after all.
"You're stuck with me now, Rita Bernal," Trevor promises with a rakish grin that looks so much more like him than the tears and the sorrow, "So best make your peace with it."