Pioneer I

[Backpost]

It took a while for Wes to notice Nuri's blushing cheeks, but when he did, he had to hold back a snort. She was getting googly-eyed over him? Wes should have felt his knees buckling under that radiant green gaze of hers, but instead he felt strangely comfortable talking to her. Nuri, on the other hand, seemed nervous and even a little fidgety, but her broad grin was a good sign; in fact, that flawless smile made Wes feel a little nervous, and he fought back a sudden rush of butterflies. He smiled and leaned forward just an inch on the table, hoping to look more engaged in the conversation and make her feel comfortable.

"The worst part was how self-righteous the people at Geiger were about it. They had directly caused almost four thousand deaths, and they tried to justify it when everyone knows exactly why they did it - for more green in their wallets. And that's the problem. Instead of facing our problems and doing something about them, these corporations distract us with some new, trivial scientific 'miracle.' Take those 48-hour eye drops that Geiger distributes. People are wasting their time making crap like that when our planet is polluted and people are dying from diseases that should be curable. Science could do so much more if the people in control of it had better intentions."

The look in Wes's eyes burned with impassioned anger when he finished talking, but Nuri brought the conversation back to a lighter note - his Pioneer paper. He let out a sigh and smiled, letting his fists unclench. "In a program like this, everything matters. Some people criticized that I spent way too much energy whining about shabby living quarters, but I say it's basic psychology. If you cramp a bunch of kids in a stuffy hole in the wall and call it a bedroom, they're not going to be happy. If we didn't have suitable living conditions on here, I doubt people would be nearly as happy to work." Wes smiled and kicked back in his chair. "That's one thing that I like about the Pioneer Program - we have rights. We're not slaves for the system, you know?"

[Backpost...]

"We're not slaves for the system, you know?"

"I hope you're right," Nuri said, mostly under her breath. "I actually did a paper on the psychology of spacefarers once. It focused on adults, but I tried to do a bit of reading when I found out that the Pioneer Program would be composed of mostly children. I kind of felt that there wasn't enough research on the psychology and the emotional toll of children living in space, but there was surprisingly little information. Sure, there was that paper on infants, as there have been several children born in space, but very few have lived there for an indefinite period of time. The largest study was a mere twenty students. It makes me nervous to think that we will be the guinea pigs here. Of course, I'm relieved that they made better accommodations for us. I think it means the whole program has a better chance. But still, stripping us of our clothes and 'excessive' personal items, that tends towards stripping us of our individuality, which, while it's common with military-type missions, is also very common with cults and other power plays. It's more nerve-wracking, for me, applying those measures on children as opposed to consenting adults. It's one of the reasons I'm most interested in being a recorder with the program. These things should be documented properly, and hopefully the powers that be will be willing to let the children and program grow organically."

She found herself hoping that she didn't say too much. She was sure that the powers that be - the adults in charge - would be listening to everything. Nuri simply wanted to be forthright and keep people accountable. Hopefully they would not feel intimidated by someone who wanted to see the program work smoothly, as opposed to being forced into a particular mold. Since they purposefully chose to use children, Nuri felt that their accountability should be to those children, and not, as Wes had put it, to their pockets.

[Backpost]

For the first time since Wes and Nuri started talking, he found himself disagreeing with her. He grinned; he liked the idea of having a lot in common with a gorgeous French model - he still couldn't get over that he was even speaking to her - but for the most part they had agreed on everything up to this point. Every conversation could be spiced up with a little conflict.

"But you have to draw the line somewhere," he said. "The program has done a good job at accommodating us within their limits, but they have rules to abide by. In joining this program, I think it's necessary that we waive our rights to some of the amenities we had back on Earth. We all knew our lives were going to change forever when we agreed to live on a spaceship the rest of our lives, and it's not like the DPE has kept that fact a secret from us. I'd say a good majority of us want to be here, and we know what we're getting into; we are risking a sort of dehumanization by choosing this lifestyle, but I'd call it an occupational hazard that we-"

"Lights out in thirty minutes. Lights out in thirty minutes."

Wes paused. The sudden interruption from the intercom had thrown him off his game. He tried to remember what point he had been trying to make, but he couldn't latch onto the thought. That was probably for the best; he had started rambling a bit anyway. "Well, anyway, we can talk about this stuff some other time...maybe tomorrow?"

Rising from his seat, he picked up his tray from the table and reached his hand out for Nuri's. "Here, I'll take your plate."

It was an early start for the girl, and immediately she had started to regret it. Quin had been up half the night reading. By the time she had gotten to sleep, covers pulled safely over her head, she had been woken up by a roommate's upchucking. Though it took her some time to fully stir from her half-awake state, Quin had finally kicked her blankets off and disengaged her contractible wall. A glance at the clock confirmed it. 5:00 am.

After a hot shower and putting on a fresh face, she could sigh in relief. Make up was done in a light, natural tone, soft brown locks curled and put into a ponytail with a white ribbon. Chandelier earrangs hung from her earlobes in a faded gold pattern, a gold bracelet with ballerina figurines dangling from her left wrist. Wit that, she deemed herself complete, coveralls smoothed on with a sigh of distate. Grabbing up the last lilly she had picked before boarding the ship from her bag, she was content to quietly slip free from the room and trek for the library once more.

By the time she had finished her search on illnesses, the buzzer was going off for breakfast. Though Quintessence's gait was fair from hurried as she strode back down the hall, once again fingering the lilly as she thought. It didn't stop her from sparing smiles, but her expression did brighten once she caught sight of her roommates and the one in question -- Sophie Delcambre. Mumbling an "Excuse me," as she skirted past mister tall, dark and handsome, her grip seized on the middle girl. "Sophie, right? I'm your other roommate, Quintessence Llelwyn. You can call me Quin, but I noticed your condition early this morning. I think I can be of some help, being a caretaker and all."

[*Note: This has been edited quite a bit.]

Nick noticed a slightly stressed attitude when his head popped through the neck of the shirt, though he didn't make the connection why. A disagreement he figured. "Well if we're being limited it probably means they have something for us to do after breakfast. Just wolf down the gruel I guess."

Crossing the lounge, Sophie caught sight of the gym door and started asking questions like an eager child. Nick smiled in return, assuring her, "Yeah, all of that and more. I doubt we could use all of it-" He was interrupted by the appearance of an eccentric looking young woman, decked out in jewels and makeup, and sliding in between Nick and Sophie. Nick raised an eyebrow at the rudeness, and inwardly groaned at the statement that she was our third roommate. So far the other crew members that he had met were "normal", even the ones he had only seen. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that someone a bit different had appeared.

However, when the newbie mentioned Sophie had a condition, Nick threw her a surprised and questioning glance over the Caretaker's shoulder. Considering what Caretakers did, it narrowed down the possibilities of what Sophie's "condition" might be, 'But that's impossible, there's no way she would be admitted to the program if when was already...' Nick didn't complete the thought. There was no use in jumping to conclusions. Instead, he remained silent and observant as the group continued to the dinning hall.

Raziel had woken up the same way he had for over a year, getting up a few hours early and discovering a journal by his bedside - everyday being like a first when reading it. Switching on a small lamp, contractible walls surrounded him, giving him the seclusion he needed. His condition made it almost impossible for him to really befriend anyone, nonetheless deal with the awkwardness between him and his roommates every morning. “Umm... who are you?” Having yet to admit his problem, most people just wrote him off as ‘weird’ or ‘mental’. Unfortunately he was both and it wasn’t everyone else writing him off that was the real problem – because he was in a state of questioning his own sanity. If you don’t believe in yourself, how can you hope for anyone else to?

Caressing the cover of the journal lightly, he sighed as he repeated the last few words from the previous day. “Welcome to day one of the Pioneer I Raziel. You’re alone... only solitude is your ally. No memory of who we are... we can only pray to soon discover our self...” Closing the autobiography of his own life, he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling aimlessly, almost shocked that he had written that whole book without having any recollection of the deed. It was almost like a nightmare, one in where he would never reawaken. Little did he know that the blank pages were running out, and there was only so much time before the ink of his pen went dry. Like the sand in an hourglass, he was on borrowed time. If he didn’t find out something soon...

Interrupted by one of his roommates informing him that it was breakfast, he only smiled and nodded in response before standing up and pacing. Fingertips dancing along the wall, he marveled at the collage of pictures, endless drawings of faces and people he had met – but the beautiful dancing girl was always more frequently seen. Who was she? He might never know... she might not even exist at all. Just a figment of his imagination, a meaningless portrait of a shadow mirroring the illusion of what life could one day be.

Taking a hot shower and getting dressed, he placed a small handbag around his shoulder where he kept his journal at all times – his only link to the memories that would normally be lost. Snagging a few pictures from the walls and folding them up, he slipped them into the bag before leaving the room and staggering down the hallway. Straying from the others, he eyed the floor most the time, not making contact with anyone. As the book stated, being alone was his only option. Raziel couldn’t risk making friends with anyone because he was nothing more than a burden to be shared.

Well, this one's an odd sort, Slate thought, as the quiet boy stopped pacing, grabbed a few pictures and walked out of their room with little more than a silent nod in acknowledgment of what Slate had said. How many here would say the same of me, though, of course?

He had yet to meet either roommate properly. His other roommate, a girl--rather attractive, at that--was still asleep; this boy, Slate had a feeling, he would never really meet properly. This was fine with him, though; somewhere in the back of his mind, he hadn't planned on meeting many people, getting attached to the place or even getting invested in his job as a scientist aboard the PI. It was still so strange just to be here, to see the rooms in reality instead of the photographs and blueprints he'd stared at for hours, to walk the real halls instead of run through the constructed simulations... Was he ready? The Council was depending on him, even Terra herself!; his hand strayed to its usual spot on his shoulder in anticipation. Slate had to shake his head as he once again realized what he was doing. He couldn't afford to look suspicious, or distant for that matter. He decided to wait for a while longer to see if his roommate would wake, and if not head to breakfast and attempt to make acquaintances.

Konako herself looked perturbed at the new arrival in the group. Leaning across to copy Nick's expression, she mouthed a "What The Hell?!" Slowing her stride to edge around to his side, a few glances were spared at the new girl and him before she finally spoke. "Hey. So, um, about last night... Do you do kung fu? Er, martial arts? Sorry, my mind's still on The Karate Kid. I was wondering because I sorta... Have barely any muscles as it is, and I kind of want to pull my own weight. Knowing me, though, I'd go all but crazy in the gym and kill myself on my own." Mussing her bangs with a nervous chuckle, she let out a softsigh. "I was wondering if you'd maybe be up for teaching me?"

"Sophie, right? I'm your other roommate, Quintessence Llelwyn. You can call me Quin, but I noticed your condition early this morning. I think I can be of some help, being a caretaker and all."

Sophie instinctively looked down to her stomach. Could she already be showing halfway into her first trimester? Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Nick shooting her strange looks, and her face instantly burned red. Then, she mentally shook herself. If she wanted to keep her situation a secret, then she wasn't doing a very good job at all. Then again Quin's arrival wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah, yeah," she said quickly. "This space sickness is really getting to me. I would really appreciate your help."

Turning her back to her friends, she threw a pointed stare in Quin's direction. Eventually, she would build up the courage to tell Konako and Nick everything, but first she wanted to establish friendships with them. She couldn't stand the idea of spending her time on the Pioneer I isolated, regarded as "that one pregnant girl." Simply by being in the Pioneer Program, she was leaving behind almost everyone she had ever known; she needed someone to talk to or she would go crazy.

As Sophie approached the doors to the Dining Hall, she looked again at Quin. She didn't necessarily want to sit with the girl out of fear that she may slip up and say something revealing, but to avoid an awkward situation, she muttered, "Hey, Quin, do you want to eat with us?"

"I know. I got it on my first space ride and thought I'd die. Then again, here I am today." Waving at herself as if in proof, Quin shrugged a bit innocently. Letting go of the arm she'd taken captive, her head bobbed in a slight, perceptive nod, as if she understood perfectly well not to say a word out of turn. She could well imagine keeping it a secret, and she was fine with playing up the space sickness angle. It definitely wasn't the best idea to go babbling any assumptions or thoughts on the matter Sophie had.

Glancing back at the other pair of the group, a brow was quick to quirk in question. "If it's okay with everyone, I guess. I suppose I shouldn't abandon you anyway. What kind of caretaker would I be if I did?" Hands pressed to her cheeks, lilly left to waft to the ground. Only when she noticed did she utter an "Oops," and bend to scoop it back up. "My last souvenir to remember the beauty of Earth. I mean, even in its decay, beauty still exists."

After tucking the flower in with the ribbon, she spared a smile and went for the line a bee straight for the first flower. Picking up a tray, she was right onto work looking at the array of food and thinking. There were definitely a few things that weren't going to be healthy for Sophie, and she couldn't help but input her advice in the namesake of rushing through the "sickness" faster. "Pudding? In the breakfast list? Honestly, that's ridiculous," she muttered to herself, though she couldn't help but go to reach for one -- until her attention caught on the gritz; tray balanced on her right hip while the left did the reaching. (Think cream of wheat-ish.)

No morning was complete without breakfast, and Raziel would about die if he was unable to start his day the same way he had for over a year. It wasn’t bacon or eggs though that tickled his fancy, it was blueberry pancakes. There was just something about them that brought a smile to his face – a sort of childish glow. Although he had realized the recipe was never just right and that there was always something missing; unfortunately he could never put his finger on it. If he closed his eyes long enough however, he swore that he could almost taste the freshly picked blueberries and the syrup... oh the syrup... still swishing around in his mouth. What was that taste, that divine flavor that sent him into a uncontrollable frenzy?

Sliding the tray along, he poked his head inward and looked down the food cart curiously, and instantly something caught his eye. Oddly it wasn’t food that stole his attention, it was instead a woman’s wrist; and more in particular, what adorned her soft tan skin. It shimmered brightly, the many charms just dazzling as they hung from a small gold chain. She wore it well, but there was one charm that had Raziel literally fixated on, his gaze locked in place. It was familiar and there was just something about it that...

Old maroon tattered seats were scattered throughout the building, an old opera house that had been closed down years ago was now the home to vandals and mice. It was eerily dark except for a single small light coming from the second floor; accompanied by the hole in the roof that sent the moonlight cascading inside. Now moving up the staircase, there was a couple dining there, their meal overlooked by the stars and the midnight sky. They were still young and enjoying the many splendors that life still had to offer.

Faces were blurred, but the woman was very beautiful, a youth that would never be extinguished even with age. That night they made love for the first time, a forbidden deed that only made the act more pleasurable. Though the memory was hazy, he could see the golden trinket as clear as day – a small chain with a beautiful charm dangling from it. A man and a woman, mangled as they danced gracefully around each other.

Swiftly cutting in line, he snatched Quintessence's wrist lightly and stared at it with an empty expression. Now rudely standing in between her and Sophie, he looked up to the woman's eyes and cocked his head to the side in question. Eyes narrowed, he was searching for answers and completely speechless. "Bracelet..." He murmured as if having just seen one for the first time. Shaking his head, he quickly grabbed his tray and walked away, dazed from the unusual encounter he just had. Battling with his thoughts, it wasn't long until he tripped, dropping the tray on the floor and landing in a sticky mess - syrup painting his face.

Jumping when her wrist was grabbed, the pouring spoon clattered back into its respectful serving bowl. Jerking her arm a bit, embers widened into huge circles from the shock. No one had dared touch her since she had last been around a particular monstrocity. She shuddered at the thought, brows furrowing when she snapped back to the present. "Mhm..." It was as if the cat had stolen Quintessence's tongue, and she was left staring right back at the strange guy before her. "A special one, at that." Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a glance was sent back to Sophie as a plea for help on the matter. What else could she do? She didn't have a free enough hand to start smacking him, and it was more her motto to spare the rod and spoil the child.

She could remember well the events leading up to each charm. Dance recitals and performances, but of course, the last... The last had been special. 'Is special,' she mentally corrected herself. Did it matter if the giver was dead and gone? She'd tried her hardest to forget, but each day, she woke up with some memory of something they'd done and regretted it all over again. 'Falling is another way of flying, Quin. You fell hard, got busted up, and now you'll never fly again.' Though, it didn't stop her from letting a comment slip out loud. "It seems you're somewhere far away." Fitting both for the train of thought and the current predicament, she shrugged it off.

Once he released her wrist, she swivelled stiffly back to the food line, pouring the grits about as fast as she could without dripping it. "Soph, I'd suggest something like oatmeal, and don't forget to take your vitamins. Those'll really help get over the illness faster. Stay away from a lot of sweets and drink milk too. Unless your lactose intolerant. which then, I suggest orange ju--" Cutting off with the sound of a clatter, her own tray was set aside before she slipped past the others in line. Grabbing up a few napkins as she went, lips turned down in a frown, a soft chant of "Oh, no," hanging on her lips.

"Here, grab my hand," she finally chirped, fingers crooking expectantly. It was better than getting on the floor to clean him up, but if he was really concerned with what people thought, Quin could see it being better. No one to point, laugh, or anything like that. If they did, though, she'd make a mental list and report it. At least, taunting kids should always get in some trouble. Scooping the tray up, though, it was set aside on the closest table before she mustered half a smile. "At least it's not so bad. No scrapes or anything bad. A lot better than what happens to me when I fall." A soft, bitter laugh finished the sentence before the napkins were held at the ready to dab his face into a non-syrup wonder. "At least you taste good now. Sweet to kiss, hmm? Some girls'll have all the luck."

Sitting helplessly on the floor, the woman’s voice came as a surprise, causing him to jolt upward – fear rising inside of him. He had made an utter fool of himself and didn’t want to be embarrassed anymore than he needed to. Looking up at the hand outreaching towards him, he saw the bracelet again, and his cheeks flushed. What did she want? Was she here to make fun of him? The eyes of every person in the dining hall were now on him so there was no better time. But impulsively he couldn’t resist so hesitantly his hand slipped into hers and he pulled himself to his feet.

”I’m sorry I didn’t mean to... I just...” Squinting when she brought her hand to his face, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but his features instantly softened when she started wiping off the syrup and cleaning him up. Closing his eyes and slowing his breath, he smiled at her, his cheeks turning five shades of pink from her comment. ”Thanks but... I should really be going now.” Body shaking, he was unnerved as he quickly collected himself and vanished, heading back to his room.

Due to that little stunt he wouldn’t be able to show himself around people for weeks; he was going to be the laughing stock of the entire ship – and labeled more of a weirdo than he already was. Nobody understood the inner conflict he was having so he couldn’t even begin to explain his memory. The flashbacks had become more frequent however and began ruining many aspects of his day; worst of all was that he had nowhere to escape. He was stuck floating on a tin can in the middle of space; alone with no future or hope.

Getting to his room and shutting the door behind him, he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out his pad - drawing everything from the bracelet to the mess he made on the floor. He also promptly opened his journal and began writing out the vivid details of his day – not missing a single thing. Afterwards he found himself laying down, still playing around with his sketches and trying to drown out the sound of his stomach growling in protest. ”Good going Raziel... ruined breakfast.” He said to himself, tossing his pad on the floor angrily.

"It's not as though you intentionally tripped to gain some sort of attention. There's much better ways to do that. Ignore them, though. Some people just don't know how to handle a situation. Staring is supposed to be a form of helping when all they do is make things worse." Head shaking with a sigh, Quin had backed to examine her work before letting out a sigh at her disappearing patient. After swiping up the last of the mess on the floor and napkins were thrown away, she went back for her own tray, balancing what had been Raziel's tray before setting it next to her own. "At least I can remake it. Poor thing, I hope he'll be okay." The comment was meant half for herself and half for Sophie, but Quin didn't think too much on expecting a reply.

She quieted down to work on both trays instead. Blueberry pancakes were put back on one before she added a side of strawberries and a banana to her own. When she had finally reached the syrup, though, her features twisted in dismay. Regular syrup never seemed that good, and as such, she found herself requesting some cinnamin, which was sneakily mixed in. Adding on an orange juice for both trays, a smile was wrought in self approval. It was a job well done if Quin had ever seen one. "Now, to find the mystery and save some him from poor health from skipping breakfast."

Grasping both trays and shooting an apologetic glance in the direction of the group she was abandoning, head tipped in apology before she scooted out of the cafeteria. Heading back in the direction of the rooms, her head poked into one after another before she finally used a foot in lieu of knocking at the one she assumed was correct. "Uhm, I can't hold these trays forever, and I know you're hungry. I got you orange juice. I do hope that's alright, as I'm not entirely sure if that's what you like or not. I hope you're alright. I've suffered far worse embarrassment in front of a larger crowd, though. So, there is no room to be ashamed or upset. Don't worry about the rest of them or anything they think. I'm Quin, by the way... Quintessence Llelwyn." Though she struggled a bit with keeping her pitch raised to be heard and maintaining balance on one foot for the knocking, Quin would've patted herself on the back if she could have. Maybe, just maybe, she had done good.

As for the bigger embarassment in a larger crowd, she knew full well the way that a trip or slip could land everyone staring. In her case, it had been more horror than taunting. Hurting an ankle had been her worst nightmare, but even worse than that was the man that had been there. The terror she had fully intended to escape one day -- and finally had. Though the memory of her last performance was filled with more bitterness than sweet elation, the thought of escape was enough to bring back the hintings of a smile to lurk on her face. 'I did what I promised you and what you promised me, didn't I? Didn't I?'

The voice on the other side of the door came as a surprise and forced Raziel to abruptly jump to his feet and pull himself together. It was rather unexpected to have the woman chase him down and be at his doorstep – with breakfast nonetheless. But for once it was nice to have someone genuinely care even after having more than embarrassed himself in front of this person. Most people would have just thrown him away by now, a lost cause not to be bothered with. His cheeks were again flushed thanks to this girl, his insides growing hot and heart rising – almost as if it was going to bounce right from his chest.

Hunching over and rescuing his pad from the floor, he set it on his bed before opening the door, a hand on the back of his head shyly as he smiled. “Oh... you didn’t have to do that. I could have just waited until... I was dead.” The last part escaped as a whisper, Raziel still overly rattled from his little mishap; being dead still sounded a lot better than spending the rest of his life dealing with himself alone. He was tired of being completely helpless and independent, and there was nothing more he longed for than a friend.

“Quin... tessence.” He muttered under his breath, just loud enough to hear. It was a beautiful name, and like most things... so familiar. ”That’s a very beautiful name. I’m... R-Raz... Raziel Moriarty. It’s very nice to meet you! Let me take that for you.” Snatching the tray from her hands, he placed it on the table next to his bed before pulling up a chair and patting it, ”You can sit if you’d like.” He said politely, sitting back on the edge of his bed and lifting up his fork, cutting into the pancakes. ”I always realize that these pancakes are always missing something. Taking a bite, his eyes lit up and he chewed slowly, fighting the urge to talk with his mouth full. ”Cinnamon! He exclaimed, finally discovering the missing ingredient.

”Where did you get... did you make these? He asked, his eyes dancing over her questionably. For over a year he had spent a lot of his time trying to remember things, and there was always something about blueberry pancakes that didn’t seem right. But now coincidentally, his cravings had been quenched. ”These are amazing! I haven’t had pancakes like these since...” Stopping himself, he only smiled and shrugged it off, deciding not to finish the sentence. Honestly he didn’t remember ever having pancakes like these, and if he ever did it was before he lost his memory – which he wasn’t about to admit. Hopefully she didn’t pry too much.

'Teach? Teach Martial Arts?' Nice was surprised by the request, hadn't he come here to better himself? His arts and his knowledge? But then again, what better way to learn and refine one's art, than to teach it's intricacies? He followed the group blindly to the bar, considering if he really was capable of teaching without the presence of his masters. Even Nick's father often had his sensei in the dojo with him while he was teaching, because Izumi Sensei had an even deeper understanding of Judo than his father. 'But then again,' Nick reconsidered, 'it all started out somewhere. Maybe I should come up with my own style, instead of emulating what I've seen and practiced...'

He finally said, "Sure thing, I'd be glad to teach you. Infact, Sophie, would you be int-"

Nick was inerrupted by the clatter of a falling spoon, and looking past Sophie, saw some unknown guy grabbing the wrist of the Caretaker that had approached Sophie. 'What the,' he half stepped out from the line, muscles noteably looser than before, hands flexing, ready to strike at the unknown boy. But, as if surfacing from a dream, the boy broke away, mumbling appology, before tripping over himself and falling face-first into the floor. Bemused, Nick watched as the girl that had just almost been assaulted, 'What was her name, Quintessence?' swooped down like a hawk to help him up and clean up the mess.

Nick exchanged a surprised look with the girls and watched the boy's retreating back, walking out of the dining hall. "Well that was... unusual." He returned tray and filled it up with eggs, ham and oatmeal with a couple helpings of rehydrated fruit. Spotting a mostly empty table, he headed over there, beckoning the girls after him, noticing Quintessence leaving the dining hall with two trays of food. 'A mother to the bone that one.'

He gave a small nod of acknoledgment to the other two crewmen already seated at the table before attacking his breakfast with a vengence, bent on getting a second plate before they closed things down.

"Don't tell me you're going to be eating puss sopped up on a piece of bread, then. Because that's what you eat when you are dead." Her voice took on an ominous tone at the latter sentence, an eerie expression crawling nto her face. This was what Quintessence had gained from mourning. The morbid sense couldn't even fit to her well, but it never stopped the rhymes from jangling in her head like a broken tambourine that never silenced. The morbidity, in her opinion, could only be the result of the death of true love accompanied by the far from perfect circumstances. 'In a perfect situation, I let love down the drain.' She remembered well the many nights she had fallen asleep through silent tears, curled uncomfortably close in her captor's arms and ever dreaming of the day she would be free. Alas, 'twas not to be. 'When I am buried, at least I was married...'

It wasn't hard to see that she was glad for someone to fit in with, and she happily relinquished his tray to cross the threshhold. "Gratzi! Nice to meet you too, Raziel. What an elegantly different name." Hazel embers derailed out of slight embarrassment from the comment. Who used words like elegant anymore? Though, she slid into her seat with hardly a hitch and dug into her own meal, legs crossing under the seat as if she wore a dress instead of the hideous coveralls. Quin's mouth had just opened to accept another bite of the oatmeal-like substance when his exclamation startled her, a slight jump preceeding the drop of her spoon back into the bowl."Mhm, cinnamin. I added it. I hope that's alright. I-I always make pancakes that way. Fresh
blueberries too. I believe they taste better with an extra touch of love, and well... Afterall, you didn't have the best morning."

Shrugging a bit in return, a smile momentarily lit up her own features. How many times had she made pancakes for one beloved Seraphim? It was enough to jog memory all over again no matter how hard she willed it away. The sun had never shown brighter on the early spring day, but it had yet to beat her rising. In the kitchen of a 'cottage' of sorts, a youth bustled about the kitchen, both cleaning and making a mess as she made the usual breakfast for one special neighbor. The smell of blueberry pancakes was ever in the air, a hardwood tray set out to add plates, utensils, a glass of orange juice, and a small amount of daisies in another glass. As soon as Quintessence had scooped the last of the pancakes to the plate and added the syrup dispenser, she was off through the kitchen door. Though merely a ripe fourteen, she had already found her own independence and no need to be separated from her best friend, along with a healthy liking for old-fashioned clothing. All it took was the short walk through the maze of buildings and a couple rocks tossed to get that familiar face awake -- She was always early. 6:15 am at the latest. Once windows opened and a sleepy smile was aimed her way, the day was automatically made. It was only made better when he'd pulled her into his room and into her arms. Safe there, she could do anything. But it wasn't meant to last...

It wasn't the lack of butter in her food, but the glance around his room that broke her reverie. Drawings everywhere, but it was a certain few that stood out the most and stopped her heart. A ballerina, and not just any either. Herself. The thought was shaken away with a decisive shake of her head. No one there knew she was a dancer. She hadn't danced in what felt like years. "You're... An amazing artist," she finally uttered in a near breathless whisper, toying with her bracelet and ducking her head. "Is that your girlfriend you've drawn? She must miss you so with you being on the Pioneer and all."

All Sophie could do was watch in bewilderment as this stranger pushed his way around her and grabbed Quin's wrist. Quin shot Sophie a look that mirrored her own confusion, to which she could only shrug in response. Then, as quickly as the young man had arrived, he shook himself and hurried away. Sophie followed him with her eyes for a moment, mouth slightly agape. "Uh..."

Then, Quin changed the subject, and Sophie pretended to listen as the Caretaker planned out a diet for her. Vitamins and oatmeal - delicious. Luckily for Sophie, the lecture was interrupted by a clatter, and Quin rushed away to the source of it. Sophie spared a quick glance in that direction, confirming that she was occupied with helping the stranger, and then she made for the pudding tray.

Once she had filled up her plate with toast, powdered egg substitute, and a satisfactory amount of sweets, Sophie plopped down in a seat beside Nick. "I'm not sure what just happened there, but I guess we just met our other roommate."

Sophie wasn't all too sure how she felt about Quin as of yet. Obviously, Sophie would now always be in the presence of her own personal babysitter - and just when she had escaped the grasp of her parents. That, and the girl had an air of strange mystery about her. How had she deduced Sophie's problem (she couldn't bring herself to even think the word "pregnancy") so quickly? Had Dr. Lockhart told Quin something, or had she truly figured it out herself?

After taking a few silent bites of pudding, Sophie decided to change the subject. "Um, Nick. It sounded like you were going to ask me something before all the commotion. What was it you were going to say?"

DELETEDELETEDELETEDELETE....

"Hmm?" Nick gave her a confused look, until he remembered what he had been asking about: Martial arts.

"Oh, yeah. Konako had asked about learning martial arts, for fitness. I was wondering if you wanted to practice with us, you picked up some in Runner Training right?"

"Yeah, I learned a thing or two," Sophie confirmed with an eager nod. "I'd love to join you guys. When?"

As soon as the words left her lips, she remembered the infinitesimal bulge in her belly. A slightly horrified look crossed her face as she unwillingly visualized the results of even one painful strike to her stomach. Then, she sighed and picked at her plate. "On second thought...maybe I shouldn't. You know, I'm not that good, anyway..."

Sophie ground her teeth in frustration. It would take a while to get used to the idea of taking care of her little ankle-biter in the making. She would have to take every precaution possible - in other words, eliminate all the fun from her life. No more junk food, no martial arts...she repressed a sigh. Maybe she could take up knitting.

"Report to the Main Lobby for Orientation. Report to the Main Lobby."

Sophie looked up at the intercom and back down at her food, and her stomach growled violently as if on cue. Suddenly, she wished she had spent less time chatting and more time eating. She scarfed down as much oatmeal as she could before picking up her tray. "Let's get going. I'm ready to see that gym!"

Konako had been holding her breath until she got an answer. Was it minutes? Seconds? She wasn't sure, but her lungs had begun to scream by the time he had answered. As soon as Nick's reply was out, her breath was too in a quiet woosh of air. It didn't stop her from allowing a silent clap and prance in place for a minute. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I--" The clatter had even silenced her train of thought, and Konako was left to lean around both Sophie and Nick to see what had gone on. 'There goes a weird kid messing with the odd kid? Greaaat,' she thought with a twist of her face. Just what in the world was going on? To her own self, it felt like a horribly choreographed show. Guy hurts girl, girl helps guy, girl runs after guy. Was that not the plot to a number of books that had somehow made it to fame?

Either way, with the man backing away, she was free to resume her staring down the food. Had ever such a display shown to her own eyes? Konako wasn't sure, but she took advantage of the display as fast as the line -- and her hands -- could let her go. Thus, it was with a gluttonous glee that she ended up following to the intended table for their group. Thought for further comment: Dissolved. Food was fast becoming the number one priority, and she was merely nodding and chewing for at least a good five minutes. Was there anything else she had to offer in way of conversation? She wasn't quite sure, but Konako did finally add in a comment or two. "Well, why don't you do it to practice? My skills are going to be practically non-existent in comparison to the both of you, and it'd at least be fun to learn from some awesome people."

At the announcement that breakfast was over, though, Konako couldn't help but groan, shovelling the last of her food as quickly as she could manage before patting her stomach happily as she slid from her seat. "That was so good. Want me to dump your guys' trays? I'm going that way," she finally muttered with a pleased sigh, a thumb jerking towards the proper place for things. "I don't know how I can juggle three, but hey, I'll figure it out if you guys'll maybe wait up for me?" With a quiet giggle and bounce at the thought of trying to balance trays on her head, a knee nudged into the back of her chair to scoot it back to the table.

Raziel viscously shoveled the remnants of his plate into his mouth, not wasting a single bite as he greedily treated this meal like it was his last. There was just something about the flavor that sent him soaring, it having some mystical link to the life he once knew. It was if something as simple as eating blueberry pancakes gave him a fraction of his old life back, and for a split second in time everything was good again. Even with an empty plate in front of him he persisted to paw at the syrup with his fork, literally set on licking his plate clean. “Yum! Cinnamon!” He exclaimed, finally content as he leaned back – suckling at his fingers.

Lost in bliss, he was too distracted to even ask why or how she made pancakes the way she did, nor did he even care by this point. The only answer he needed was that she just did – and that was the only important thing. Besides, what would he gain by questioning her over something so stupid? Of all the odds, it was nearly impossible for him to meet anyone from before; besides not remembering, he was millions of miles in space, one of only 300 in the Pioneer program. What were the chances of one of these people even remotely knowing him? Tossing his thoughts aside, he sat up and was quickly sidetracked when she began to ask him about the drawings.

”Oh... her.” He muttered subtly, trailing off again as he began asking himself the same question. ”To be perfectly honest I don’t know. I draw things I dream about sometimes, or people I meet... and they tend to make sense to me; but she on the other hand has remained just that... a dream.” Looking up at his wall and taping his cheek with his thumb, he shrugged and shook his head to the side. ”I don’t have anyone waiting for me back there. Earth is just a dead planet to me... I hardly have any memory of it anyway.” Not paying attention to his words, his eyes widened as he realized he almost blew his secret. Luckily an announcement rung over the intercom and changed the pace. ”Well it seems it’s time to go...”

Getting to his feet, he lifted up his tray and politely took Quintessence’s as well,”I should run these back to the cafeteria. You feel free to get going! I’ll... see you later...” Thoughts lingering on till tomorrow, he wrinkled his nose and snorted before briskly leaving the room and disappearing back down the hall – which he was good at. Raziel ran away from most things, especially people; but deep down he knew tomorrow he would hardly remember a thing about his ‘new friend’.

"I know the feeling. The Earth has nothing for me either there." Though her tone had tinged with the faintest licks of a bitter flame, she mustered a playful smile, fingers toying with the bracelet as if of their own volition. What use was it thinking on the past? But then, every footstep carried a reminder of past and present; a lack of hope for the future too. Her own, personal future, that was. She could easily nurture others and try to see the glass half-full for their sake. Wasn't that what caretakers were supposed to do -- be so optimistic and cheery? Nodding at his statement after the intercom's interruption, she relinquished her tray with a quietly murmured "Thank you," before sliding to her feet.

A napkin was studiously pressed round her lips as she followed for the door, stopping short to turn back. Looking back at the pictures, she slumped with a sigh, head shaking. "How would you know me? There's no way, unless you seen a show. A simple show. Nothing more." It was a self-convincing tactic, but it worked enough for her to drop it from her thoughts for the time being. Fingers knit back together as she stepped back into the hall, legs on automatic going to follow the stream of students for the lobby.

Once she had re-found it, embers roved near anxiously for someone she knew before she ducked into a seat instead. Quin knew she hadn't exactly made a splash with her roommates, and if she was too overbearing as of yet, the secret just might slip. Though, she doubted any of the others were stupid enough to not figure out that it wasn't just a fleeting space sickness. It still remained to be seen if anyone would figure it out, though, and in the meantime, she would have to watch her steps.

The train of thought was sighed off with a sleepy smile, fingers curling idly into the fabric at her knees as she waited. 'I wonder if I'm the only caretaker around here,' she thought after a moment with a quiet hmm. That would definitely make things interesting. "But whoever said I can't take a challenge?" The question was mumbled to herself, paired with a satisfactory smirk.

Nuri was later than she meant to be. Since it was the first official day, she'd slept in rollers and spent extra time on her hair and make-up. She didn't care for the uniform provided, but she tried to make the best of it. She pulled her curls back on the sides with wide barrettes and played up her eyes with a shimmering green eyeshadow just a few shades lighter than her eyes. She fussed until it was perfect, which meant that she only had time to grab some kind of yogurt smoothie drink in the cafeteria before following everyone out for orientation.

She looked around for someone she recognized. She saw little Adelaide's bright and shining hair in the very front of the line as everyone filed away to orientation. To her disappointment, she didn't spot the exotic dready boy, Wes, whose company she'd very much enjoyed. She didn't recognize anyone else, so she just smiled at those around her and double-checked her stock of pens and pencils.