Lapis flew up onto the silo. It was a lot more peaceful up there than it was in the barn, and she liked how the wind felt when it blew past her in gentle gusts. She had taken the time to break the ladder – none of the others understood wanting to be left alone. They would come up and ask her what was wrong, even when she was completely fine. It was annoying. Just because she wasn't talking didn't mean anything was wrong.

Living on Earth was also a bit frustrating. Humans were confusing, and, though she would never admit it, she wanted to learn more about the society they had constructed. By the looks of it, they had come pretty far. The trouble was that they couldn't understand much about gems. Even the concept of one of their young learning to fight was questionable to them. Steven meant well, but he could be a bit overbearing, and his friend – Connie? – hated her. Not that Lapis cared.

The human that had been with Steven and Connie, though, was different. He acted differently. Lapis didn't know much about humans, but it seemed as if their behavior depended somewhat on their age. That was something she could understand – it was very similar to gems.

She was a rare gem, back on Homeworld. Not special enough to own a pearl or anything, but still valuable to Blue Diamond. She was a reporter. She was allowed and expected to go to events and things. By that time, plays and drama were more of an old tradition than anything else, but, unlike most others, Lapis enjoyed them. When she was waiting at the galaxy warp all those years, sometimes she would watch them from memory. She knew every last line, every last movement the actors made.

Now she revisited one again, remembering how her home was when it still felt like one.