Author's Notes. For DragonBandit.
Disclaimer. Hahahaha, no.
In the great expanse beyond Earth, the Skaia Leo drifted, green lights blinking in quiet, humdrum rhythm. Along its many softly lit corridors Junior technician Nepeta ran from her quarters to the header – an almost oblong room lacking the controls of a cockpit but not the view. During the boarding tour two years ago the technician surveyist had said something about it being a wellness feature that came with the Zodiac fleet.
It was also the nicest place to talk to Davesprite. The surveyist had introduced him then, though they had referred to him as Dave – Sprite merely being the system he ran on, which was really a shame, because Davesprite had a lovely roll on the tongue. So, the fifth or so time she talked to him while doing maintenance work she'd asked if she could call him that. He'd agreed.
The header's doors parted for her with ease, and she stepped through to soft orange light and quiet. Often she'd set the light to color cycle, sit in one of the rounded chairs and just see how the hues flowed into one another, each staining the endless sky. Today she came with a piece of paper and a goal.
"AC enters the dark cave, padding her way to the crow's nest," she announced as she reached where the counter met Davesprite's display – an audio visualizer and text log. "She stops when she hits the bark, and gently drags her claws along the flow."
A low, familiar laugh greeted her in reply, tapering off sharply. Then, "TG Purrmusk wakes up at AC's merciless assault on the cave floor like vicious slaughter despite the floor bein' a pretty damn faithful companion for resting her head on 'til now. Sup."
"Hehe. Saying hi to my friend because… I made you a gift!"
She paused for the show then, made sure she had the folded paper firm between her hands, behind her back, as if Davesprite couldn't see it. There wasn't even the whir of air conditioning in the background – the sound control in the header made sure of that.
"So you gonna show me this gift sometime or am I gonna be sat on the edge of my seat here because though I'm all for practicing for the seat-balancing Olympics in the next -"
He cut himself off the moment she took out the drawing and began to unfurl it (Sixteenth folds, eights, fourths, halves) to show him but not so fast that it'll tear. Her arms shook a bit in holding out the drawing – as if he wouldn't be able to see it clearly from the opposite side of the room – and maybe she'd made a mistake. After last week, she'd done some research, used what he had told her to get the face and body just right, but maybe she shouldn't have gone digging, shouldn't have drawn the man he "used to sort of be" in the first place.
"You didn't seem to like being only a crow's head to Skaia, so I drew you a Sona," is what she managed, the last few words coming out to barely more than a whisper.
When Davesprite spoke, it's not with his natural tones – there's a rough edge to his voice, like an unmastered audio recording. She'd only heard it thrice, including right now.
"'S real fuckin good dude, gotta give you props on the mad shade of orange you've got going for me and those crow wings with the wispy ghost tail, it's like I'm a video game spirit guide here to give cryptic hints to puzzles and remind you what the A button does with some sweetass shades and – thanks, man. Really."
"I'm sooo glad you like it. I'm going to put it up on the window, above you, okay?"
"That's the best fucking idea I've heard of."
She laughed in the response, taking out the small pack of gel sticks in her pocket and puts up the drawing. She was awfully proud of it – getting the details right to make it really look like him had taken forever.
"Not to kill our time basking in the masterful work of the next Leonardo da Vinci here but I've got something to show you too."
"Ohh?" she asked, peering at the camera above her.
"Yeah, just scootch your ass straight into a seat and lean back upon your throne Warrior Queen Madame President Leijon, 'cause this video game crowguy's made you a show worth swooning over."
"Alright," she said, and pulled up her favorite chair. Not a second after she had settled do the lights of the header shift from orange to yellow to olive green, and music faded in to match the light changes. The beat was regular, like most of the music Davesprite had played for her, except there's something about the sound, maybe it's the crackle and noise and fuzz that reminded her of the warm yellow lights of her childhood home, looking through the window at night. As it washed over her, she wished, great and quiet, to stay like this, in the cozy space of the header with the best person she's ever known, for just a little bit of forever.
Author's Notes. Originally posted 2022.02.10 for the Chocobox Exchange, with an illustration.
