Bottom

[MiniKitty]

Monique ≪

Levan

---

Bottom

---

I'm too tired to yell at you.

---

Coming home from a ride always feels strange. Completely different settings. One moment I am all by myself on my ship, with barely any space to do anything other than the basics, all by myself. The next moment I walk through the streets of David's Hollow, from the spaceport to the Den. Home, I guess. Weird disconnect, as I have grown used to calling it Den, instead of home. That entire apartment building is mine, and I have been living there for how long now? More than five years? Seven years? I really aged. Luckily, my body does not show it yet. The other day I was asked for my ID as they did not want to sell alcohol to minors. Flattering, really.

It is still snowing. The streets at night feel different when they have this layer of reflective white snow covering them. Snow, slush, mud, dirt. The cold season looks nice when the snow is falling, and disgusting just a few days later. Cold and wet and ugly.

My spacer outfit keeps me warm, although I can feel the freezing winds on my face. My cheeks are probably rosy, and I am in that awkward spot where I am not entirely sure whether my nose is runny or just cold. I just know that I will take a steaming hot bath when I get home. If... I get the chance to do that, that is.

To think Lea grew up on a planet that has this kind of weather all day. These Rheinlanders are something else. Stone cold people. I just wanted to go home, and they deny me entry because of a cloaking device. Really, that is the thing that bothers them? Bombers can enter their turf without permits, but a ship using a cloaking device? Better make a bunch of laws for that. I guess I will have to request a permit at some point. I guess that is why Liberty will always be the best house, even with the many flaws we have here.


Have to be careful with the stairs. Madeleine somehow manages to slip here every time. Hope she is already sleeping. Should be early enough. Really wondering whether she finds her life fulfilling. She doubled that million credits by investing in DSE stocks before that new station went online.

I open the door to the Den. Just your average randoms here. Always a new face, always some faces I should be way more familiar with than I am. Less messy than usual. Volume on night mode, so sleeping was actually possible. Three girls talking in the kitchen, beer cans on the counter, one in a hand. Durga nods at me, as usual. No warm welcome from her, as usual. Two guys playing some fighting game in the living room. Button mashing versus actual skill.

I walk upstairs, enter the bedroom. Dark, so I am quiet. Monique is sleeping. I sit down at the edge of the bed, trying to be as silent as possible as I take off my boots. Something I should have done downstairs already. It is a heated floor, so it is less about the sludgy cold still sticking to the boots and more about the stains that sludge will leave upon drying. The girls tend to get a little annoying when I cause a little dirt, while Monique frequently spills beer, and Madeleine... gives reason to change the bed sheets more often than usually needed. Both of them often forget that this is my house. My property.

I place the boots next to the glass door to the balcony. Then I head over to the bed, just dropping onto it. Not even taking my jacket off. Some more cold moisture to get mad about. Who cares. Not planning on taking off any clothes anyway. Warmer that way. I pull my blanket over me, over my face. Just a few seconds of sticky air, but warm air. Just warming up my face. Even with all the workouts, I just do not get past that threshold towards underweight. It used to be a lot worse. With a body that is just muscles and bones and barely any fat, getting exposed to the cold is so much more punishing.

I close my eyes. I guess I am a bit more tired than I thought. Maybe it is because it is nighttime. Maybe it is because of the gravity difference between the average one point zero for space ships, and Denver's very slightly different level of gravity. Maybe it is the difference in temperature. The texture of the air. Maybe it is the-

Something is moving. I feel more weight, more warmth. Opening my eyes, pulling the blanket off my face. Monique. She scoots between my blanket and my body in clumsy movements, whispered tired moans. Her warm face against mine. Not a word spoken for a while, just her body on mine. A few tight squeezes from her until I place my hands on her back, until my arms coil around her chest like two bony lizards. No complaints about me being fully clothed. At least this time. Just proximity. Two tired humans.

My breathing grows more audible from the additional weight on my chest. My lips are dry from the cold outside. Hers are not dry at all, as she proves without a warning.



≫ Monique ≪

Did you save the world?

≫ Levan ≪

Yeah.

≫ Monique ≪

Tha's goodoknow... Anything happen?

≫ Levan ≪

Not really. Met a racer in Pennsylvania. A flight teacher, Interspace. Was nice at first, but the conversation got more depressing over time. Got briefly interrogated by an LSF guy. Not the brightest tool in the shed.

≫ Monique ≪

Sharpest.

≫ Levan ≪

Whatever. Did not see anyone familiar. Got into a fight with a Lane Hacker near Erie, but they escaped. Bretonia forced me to join a fleet fight with Rheinland against the Hessians and Coalition. Escaped, though. Obviously.

≫ Monique ≪

... I'm too tired to yell at you.

≫ Levan ≪

I would not tell you if otherwise.

Her grip on me tightens. It is true, though. Both she and Madeleine get extremely upset whenever I get into fights. Rightfully so, as none of them made any sense. The Lane Hacker really just wanted a fight, gunboat on gunboat. Quickly realized I was better. Then ran off, squeaking on the comms like a broken accordion in anger.

What really bothered me was what happened in Omega-3. That Armed Forces captain made false claims, forcing me to join that fleet fight, saying my cloaking device was illegal in Bretonia. Right in front of police pilots who corrected him on the spot. Being surrounded by both Rheinland and Bretonia law enforcers, I simply agreed, just to avoid trouble.

What does one do in a situation like that? File a complaint with the Bretonian Government about corruption among their captains? Would probably just get dismissed, and next time I move through Bretonia I get pulled aside by the same asshole, fined if not worse. Such things really do not happen in Liberty.

I guess just another reason to avoid Bretonia. And Rheinland. Not like I am going to find friends there, anyway.


Monique places her lips on mine once more, just an idle kiss. She scoots down a little, her head sideways, nuzzling my neck.


≫ Monique ≪

One day, you won't come home. Just because you keep going up there, flying around, attracting problems. One day, you will get shot down and die. And I'm here, waiting day and night. How does that make sense?

≫ Levan ≪

Makes no sense at all. Madeleine and you are here. Kimberly is here. My friends are here. Everyone who cares for me is here. There is nobody out there who cares for me. Not Kristoff, not Aspen, nobody. Makes no sense at all. They are all fighting their idiotic battles, and every time I leave the planet, I get dragged into them, too.

≫ Monique ≪

Just sell the damn ship. Saves maintenance, parking, fuel... everything. You don't risk your life anymore over... nothing. Let others do the fighting. Let them die over nothing. Fuck them. Just fuck them all.

≫ Levan ≪

Uhm, I thought you are too tired for arguing?

≫ Monique ≪

I'm not arguing, I'm telling you what to do. I'm telling you the same thing Madeleine tells you to do, and you don't. So here we are, Levan, the probably most intelligent girl you'll ever meet and me, a stupid, angry drug-addict party girl telling you both to do the same thing. You get the full spectrum of intelligence here. Two digits and three digits. Everyone tells you to be happy with what you have. Instead, you keep going to space, and risk your life over and over again. for nothing. Just stay here and be happy with us. Fuck all day and night, never need to work, eat and drink all you want.

≫ Levan ≪

That would make sense, yeah.

Even more exhausted than before, she moves a hand to my head, cupping my cheek.



≫ Monique ≪

What can I do to make you stay?

I remain silent. She is right, without a doubt. I have everything a man could want. More money than I could ever spend. Women. Friends. Security. Good standing with LPI, too. My life is the complete opposite of what it used to be on Pittsburgh. I have freedom. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Having Madeleine and Monique yell at me for wearing clothes in bed is a luxury. Having an clumsy idiot downstairs break a glass table, that is a luxury. This is all luxury.

Do I... not deserve that? Should I not be happy about all of this wealth? This abundance? My every need is met. More than a decent lifestyle. Why am I drawn to space like a mammoth to a lamp?

Monique's blue hair tickles the skin of my face. Her hug constricts my movement like chains. I can barely move. I can barely breathe. Sometimes I feel like her affection for me is not just for the sex and the money. Sometimes she says just the right things. Sometimes, her pupils look like hearts when she looks at me. I really am blessed in so many ways. Madeleine calls it karma, for all the suffering on Pittsburgh. Then she corrects herself, making sure I understand she does not believe in karma. Thousands of coincidences and choices led from poverty and starvation to wealth and abundance. No luck, no fate, no balance.

It hurts to breathe like this. Feeling a little light-headed. I roll her off my body, to the side. She squeaks in surprise, muffled through a kiss I bring upon her. I am in control. I can have anything I want, any time. No suffocation, no arguments. My house, my bed, my clothes. No chains, absolute freedom. Maybe that is it? Freedom? Is that why I feel like I need to have this ship?

Almost as if challenged, Monique tries to gain control again, wrapping her arms and legs around my body as her tongue invades my mouth. It develops into a... somewhat of a fight for dominance. Am I weighed down by everything I have on Denver? Girlfriends, the Den? Is that it? Is that why I go to space?

Her arguments got more and more compelling, always nearing complete dominance. A few nasty techniques, mostly with that kisser. I grit my teeth. Dumbfounded joy, but somehow muffled. Is this just... fake joy? Fake bliss? My mind fogs up, my confusion seemingly unending. Who, of any person with a sane mind, would abandon all of this, for some freedom? For some solitude? For the constant threat of dying to thousands of hazards, hundreds of clashing ideologies? There is not a single good cause to die for in space. Aspen is an idiot for fighting over Erie. Kristoff is an idiot for not being with me, for picking literally everything else over me.

Even in the dark, I can see the beautiful blue hair. This well-shaped body. The endless assault of affection, trying to coax a high out of me, in so many ways, with so much skill, with so much effort. I must be insane to leave the planet, to even think about Kristoff even after all this time. I should hate him for living rent-free in my mind. I should hate him for thinking about him when I am with Monique and Madeleine, or any other person, really. I hate him for thinking of him right now.

It takes a while, but she asserts her dominance, in mutual happiness and exhaustion. I just wish I had not messed up every single time Madeleine and Monique went to space with me. We could have all this and have adventures together in space. Watching the asteroids drifting near the sun of Tau-29. Watching racers at Sayre. And not having to worry about Kusari and Liberty going at each other's throats over some minerals.

At least my face is no longer cold. My entire body feels warm. Lingering aftermath of bliss and joy. I am an idiot for thinking about space all the time. I should have thought about Monique the entire time. About how happy she makes me, despite being just a very stupid party girl. Chances are she is high from something she took earlier. Chances are there is no thought at all behind her eyes. She once more lies ontop of me, making it harder to breathe.


I hate this.

---