Zia had a bad feeling about this trip, of course it was probably because it's the last core. Without a doubt the Bastion did need it, just earlier that morning, she had sat on the edge of the Bastion, enjoying the chilly morning breeze with a cup of musty tea. The ground beneath her resting form gave a lurch, and held just long enough for her to scramble back to the monument, suddenly very awake and very covered in tea.

She sat down in her tent, feeling a deep, blue frustration. Zia grabbed her guitar and ran her fingers over its age, feeling each small nick and dimple. The Kid does everything, all she can do is help Rucks make food and keep that finnicky squirt out of trouble. She was glad to be back on the Bastion, the tent was more of a home to her than her actual homeland. The people, no, her people were as cold and hard as the ice that built the place. Then again, after the Calamity there isn't much room for being soft.

The last core was a necessity, but for some reason it didn't seem like the main reason the Kid was going, before departure. he seemed, different. Heading to the launch pad, she got a glimpse of his face, he had something different in his eyes. Less the look of remorsefully doing what needs be done, and more the face of doing what should be done, an aggressive pride, or angry valor almost.

She hadn't seen the Kid like that since they met. Always his eyes were open wide, taking the whole world in, in either admiration or caution. He always had an air of gratitude. Grateful to be spared, grateful to have found what Rucks needed, for the Bastion, but mostly a warm bowl and bed to collapse into.

Zia remembered having first seen that look on him in the Ura territory. After being captured, she was told where she was, she was talked to a lot, pointing at things and being led around. It was all a blur, her eyes glassy. She had felt utterly defeated, and withdrew inward. Time was an icicle melting into a puddle, time definitely passed, but the amount of time seemed impossible to determine.

The frozen buildings were perfect to rest your eyes on, Zia hadn't noticed the shouts, or the soft thuds outside, all she had noticed was staring outside the window into the sharp angles of Uran architecture, when she felt a slight warmth behind her. The heat radiating off the Kid from conquest was almost visible against the pale blue. His furrowed brow softening, his warm look of, sadness was sobering in the world of cold that had frozen Zia, and she woke up from being awake and asleep all at once, the shock of having hope again was like the singe of touching something too hot, she almost recoiled back into hopelessness, but this was true, the Kid was right there, and he was there to get her.

Zia set her guitar down, and lay down on her sack, she listened to the Bastion, heard the sound of the squirt's giggles, a crash and then Rucks swearing. She sighed, stretched out like a cat in the shade. She rest her eyes and nuzzled her silk pillow. Zia sure hoped the Kid was safe right now, gosh her eyelids felt heavy
and that Rucks was alright.. that ruckus seemed to have solved itself she guessed
and that the Bastion would be fixed.. her muscles relaxed, melting into her bed
and the world would be fixed... the darkness of sleep slid through her mind,
and..
What if the Kid liked her?
Her eyes shot open in surprise. Where had that thought come from? She blushed at her own childishness, embarrassed at the audacity of her subconscious query, and slightly frustrated for waking herself up. That's not right to think, he has so much more to deal with then the lust of a woman's touch, also, even if he did, this woman isn't just for touching! She sat up, a view of her pant legs and half the tent's interior. That's not it, he just seemed distant. He barely talked to her, but then again he barely talked to Rucks, what if he just doesn't talk a lot? She kicked off her shoes, noticing how she forgot before and got a bit of dirt on her blanket. She sighed, no it's something else. She looked at the pale skin of her feet. She was an Ura, and he was a Cael, that just didn't happen.

The only Caelean and Uran relationship was between some Uran ambassador and some Gasfella manager's daughter, entirely political and all for show. If it was 'meant to be' anyways it would've happened already. Zia was a hopeless romantic, there's one person who's her soulmate and they'd live happily ever after and have a bajillion kids and that person is a pile of ash. Exasperated she flung her arms up and collapsed back into her silks.

All those reasons seemed good, but something in her still rest uneasy. What if he did like her? Zia wasn't unattractive. She had a small frame and typical Uran curves, small perky breasts and hips that rivaled her shoulder width. Pale skin, brown eyes and of course, black hair. That wouldn't be it, the Kid doesn't seem like the kind of person to act on such base desires, (she had met a few of those men, she might have a knack for spotting them) he seemed more reserved. Her hand wandered to her stomach, she wasn't getting fat was she? No, just the familiar feel of a small belly, her hand playfully wandered lower.. she did know what they said about Caelondian men...

Almost on queue, a ripping sound and flurry of soft thuds startled her, followed by swearing. Zia slid into her shoes and went outside to find a number of vegetables on the ground, a cussing Rucks and one or two Beetatos (more?) roll off the edge. Rucks seemed a lot more agitated these days, the stress does get to everybody. Zia rolled up her sleeves and set to helping prepare dinner.