The following days for Grey are racked with impatience, they can admit.

It was tedious, to say the least, to be left with nothing to do. As a Keeper, they always had a task, always had a destination. Always had a purpose. But now, they had no such thing. The best they could say was that their assigned task was to stay in 'Venus Greyson's' apartment and wait to see if their persona was enough to stay near Jupiter Jones in some capacity. If not, they had a few backup personas, a physical trainer named Andy Ceres, a private tutor named Robin Callisto, all having already submitted applications to the various positions that Ambassador Sergi Jones had advertised through a private network of inquiries that they had found during these idle days. Now, they had nothing left to do but wait for decisions on Jupiter's Elders' part to make.

It was strange, to say the least, to have to wait for something. Instead of doing something constantly.

Oh, they are reviewing the information in the very precious sheaves that they and Jupiter had risked their lives for. It had been Jupiter's idea, her trust beyond their experience, her firm belief that multiple perspectives were important for her endeavor to change the Verse. The fact that I am given a perspective, and have every right to it is queer enough, but to for it to be heard and wanted to be heard is even stranger.

They were also curating the necessary means for their Venus Grayson to feel more like a person, meeting their neighbors and joining their local library. They were purchasing more clothes beyond the Queen's, wary to have too many extraterrestrial materials out on a regular basis on the scant chance someone would recognize them, purchasing a few scant items to scatter about their apartment, etc. They were doing task after task, trying to keep busy, trying to direct themselves for once in their life.

However, they found themselves sitting in an apartment, feeling as if they were not doing much at all.

Near a hundred thousand cycles had come and gone for them and for the first time they were the director, they were the one to choose the minute detail of their self-imposed tasks.

It was exhausting.

And it did not feel... Right. With Jupiter, it felt as if I was righteous, a rebel with a cause. Get the youngling to safety. Acquire the information over the state of Jupiter's holdings and the Great Experiment. Make a human identity for myself with Jupiter. But alone I do not feel the same… I fell idle. I feel as if I am waiting for direction, and am frustrated by the lack of it. I want someone to tell me what to do- I need someone to tell me what- Jupiter would hate me for it. The thought brings pain to Grey, pain so sharp and deep they could barely breathe, their pores struggling to properly filter their needed nitrogen. She would be horrified by my want to obey someone so readily, and in her eyes, it must be as if I have been conditioned. I have of course, but it does not take away my want for the same structure that is provided by belonging to someone.

Grey felt tears come to them, hot and visceral, dark seeping liquid from the corner of their large eyes. Their voice gave off a trill, agony, desperation, and self-loathing. And then so many things came to them, their anger at their apathy for the majority of their life, their hatred for Balem Abrasax and the Humans like him. And then they thought of their Brood, of their Elders.

And Grey wondered when was the last time they had stopped and let themselves cry.

Never. It was not done. Well, if I am the obritor of my own fate then I will allow myself this much.

So they left the tears fall.