Trinitite was familiar with the concept of movies, but had never actually seen one. Compared to all the other things the abyssal needed to acquire, the equipment to view them hadn't seemed particularly important. Now that she'd stumbled into the opportunity, however, the Wo-class found herself suddenly curious. Two hours of film that depicted events that didn't actually happen didn't seem particularly interesting, and unlike the miniature wargaming she couldn't think of any practical skills a user could develop, so why did Alex seem to like them?
Mirroring Trinitite's thoughts, Alex released a question behind him as they exited the garage.
"What kind of movies do you like?"
"I-" Her voice hitched as mentally checked if she could afford to be honest. "I haven't seen any."
"You haven't?" He asked, his pace faulting as he looked back towards the abyssal. "What about The Neverending Story?"
"I just read the back." She admitted.
"Oh…" he trailed off in contemplation. "...Well, I think I know where we should start, then."
The two humans were sprawled next to each other, slowly recovering from their fall into the valley. The man in abyss-black clothes seemed to recover first, and the dread pirate scrambled to his companion. He'd sailed far and wide, trained relentlessly, and out-fought every opponent before him to find and rescue his princess, and the years of hard work were now paying off as he cradled her in his arms.
"Can you move at all?"
"Move? You're alive!" She replied, the relief in her voice echoing in Trinitite's bridge. "If you want I can fly."
Despite seeming to have abandoned him, Buttercup loved him after all! It seemed a distant hope, but what if her own abandonment was her unaware mother simply moving on, and knowledge that Trinitite was alive was all she needed to welcome the Wo-class back into her arms?
"I told you I would always come for you." Westley stated. "Why didn't you wait for me?"
"Well, you were dead." Buttercup, the human Trinitite assumed was the princess now that The Sicilian was dead, replied..
"Death cannot stop true love." The human declared.
Trinitite still didn't understand what kind of relationship they had- perhaps they had been in the same fleet back on the 'farm,' but they didn't seem to be in the same family. Besides that, she wasn't sure what this love- no, true love, whatever that was, was based on.
The music rose as their faces seemed drawn to each other, their embrace deepening as their faces made contact. Trinitite found herself strangely drawn to the way their lips intertwined as the music continued to rise, the Wo-class realizing she had the opportunity to study emotions she didn't know existed until now.
She was pretty frustrated, then, when the smaller human from the start of the movie cut in, complaining about what had just happened.
…Oh, that was kissing? To the abyssal's surprise, she felt more curiosity than revulsion at the concept. Why did the escort-type human object to it so much?
The door opened behind her, but Trinitite couldn't tear herself away from the events unfolding on the screen. It seemed like every couple of seconds she was ordering the watch to scrawl questions into the research list, entries cascading down the log almost as quickly as they had when she'd first opened it.
Where was Florin and Guilder? What kind of fighting were The Spaniard and The Dread Pirate doing, and how could she learn it? Was this dreaded iocane powder a threat to her? Which person was the princess?
What really was 'true love?' How did this practice of kissing factor into it? How was it different from how she loved Mother, and why was the smaller human in the present so against it?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the booming of an unfamiliar voice.
"The Princess Bride, huh?" Trinitite turned towards the new human as he delivered his judgment. "That's a classic!"
The movie hadn't been what Alex had wanted to show her. He'd dove into a storage compartment under the large screen in the living room, muttering something about an 'original VHS box set,' when the title had caught Trinitite's attention and she'd idly read it out loud. Alex had jumped on the vocalized thought, proclaiming it as a great film and dismissing his own plans with a surprising disregard. So far, she'd been happy to witness it, the tale of someone desperately fighting their way through a foreign land to rescue their princess only partially dulled by confusion over whether these events really happened or not.
She wasn't sure what the new human meant, but his tone indicated his attitude matched that of his fleetmate. The human was the tallest she'd seen in Alex's fleet, his rangefinders masked by a pair of glasses. His skin was also lighter, the abyssal idly noting that Alex's hull color seemed to be between this man's tone and Paloma's.
"Hey, Dad." Alex greeted as he paused the film, and things suddenly slipped into place. Alex was a product of a genetic trade between this… 'Dad' and Paloma! It had been a while since she'd studied the details (a reminder to refresh herself on the intricacies in her next library trip was added to the log), but it would explain why his skin tone seemed a compromise between the two humans.
"I didn't know someone else was coming over tonight!" 'Dad' exclaimed, his rangefinders distorted by the glasses that now focused on her. "The name's Mitchell Martin." He extended his hand. "You can just call me Mitch."
Recognizing the gesture, Trinitite stood, accepting the handshake with a gloved hand.
"I'm Sarah." She replied. The handshake was firm, a reminder of the workers at her previous job. Compared to them, Mitch was a bit lithe, with more of a cruiser's build then many of the humans she'd worked with, but she wasn't sure if that meant anything.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sarah." He replied, smiling, before leaning in confidentially and projecting his voice with a false-whisper. "You 'just friends' with him, or…"
"Dad!" Alex shout caused a jump in Trinitite, but Mitch only laughed. What had that question even meant? Was it harmless teasing meant to get a rise out of his fleetmate, or had it actually been serious?
"I don't know." She replied.
The laughing trailed off abruptly, and the human leaned in confidentially again. Now, he spoke in a real whisper.
"If you're really trying to build a relationship with him, be more assertive. He can be pretty thick when he wants to be."
Her confusion only grew. What did that mean? Before Trinitite could ask for clarification, he laughed again, giving Trinitite a friendly smack on the shoulder.
"I'm just ragging on 'ya." He clarified, turning away. "Enjoy your movie, kids."
"Actually…" Paloma interjected, Alex's mother emerging from another compartment in the house. "Dinner is ready."
"Oh?" Mitch replied, accepting a hug from his princess. "Nevermind, then."
They kissed.
It wasn't nearly as long or dramatic as the one she'd seen in the movie, a moment of contact that was over before the abyssal realized what had happened, but it couldn't have been anything else. So it was more of some form of greeting? Alex hadn't done that when he'd arrived. Was it because he was in such a hurry, or was it related to the fleet's hierarchy? Were there different types of kisses for different situations?
The unsaid invitation to join this fleet was looking less and less enticing.
Before the Wo-class lost herself in speculation, the pair broke off the hug, walking towards the tiled part of the room as if they hadn't just done anything… strange. Doing her best to act unphased, she followed with Alex.
"Ever had posole before?" Paloma asked, handing Trinitite a large ceramic cup.
"No."
Alex's gaze remained on Trinitite as he accepted his own cup.
"...ever had soup before?"
"Yeah." She replied, and Alex nodded apologetically. She hadn't remembered the details on the labeling, but the cans of soup she'd raided from the Fred Meyers had been pretty good, but it was so long ago that she didn't remember too many specifics.
This stuff didn't seem to have any tin in it, either.
With the soup's warmth slowly easing up her arms, she waited as the family found their seats, taking the remaining chair for herself.
"So," Alex's father spoke, his spoon dipping into his own cup, "what brought you to Chehalis?"
"It's less crowded." Trinitite replied, mimicking the human's motion and dipping her spoon into the soup. She obviously couldn't say that she was running away from the Navy, so this seemed like a decent half-truth. "So many people live around the main ports, and going from living with just my family to a crowded refugee camp…"
"Needed elbow room, huh?" Paloma asked, and Trinitite nodded as if she understood the term.
"Yes. This place is out-of-the-way enough that I can be alone when I want to, but there's enough people here that it's not too difficult to get a job."
Unsaid was that it was still fairly close to the ocean, too. She could have gone further inland, she guessed, but getting that far from open water sounded dangerous in a way she had trouble explaining. This was the furthest away from the sea she'd ever traveled, and she was content with keeping it that way for now.
Carefully, she maneuvered the spoon through the soup, grabbing a loose string of muscle as well as some of the cabbage sprinkled across the top. She brought the spoon to her lips, careful not to bite the steel utensil as she had her first taste.
The turkey tasted entirely different then the slices she'd had from the Fred Meyers, the meat dissolving in her teeth. The shreds of leaves were still crispy, counteracting the melted turkey, while the spoon's excellent steel added a pleasant tang to the mixture. The liquid that composed the majority of the soup carried a deep mix of spices that accompanied a… burning… sensation...
No, no, no, no! It was spicy!
"So where do you live now?" Paloma probed, seemingly ignorant of the Abyssal's suffering. "An Apartment?"
What? That question would be difficult to answer if she wasn't dealing with a crisis at the moment!
"Mhmmm…"
She stalled, attempting to swallow, but that only spread the fiery liquid further belowdecks. The burning didn't compare to the liquid fire she'd unleashed upon herself in the tabasco incident, but it was serious enough for her crew to begin scrambling into their asbestos suits to begin fighting the burning… poison.
Her keel straightened as she suddenly made the connection. Whatever the chemical behind spiciness was, it was certainly one of those! On top of that, just like the iocane in the movie, Alex's fleet had become immune to it!
Was it possible this had been intentional? They didn't know she was storing a chilled gallon of milk for this exact same situation, so perhaps they had some stowed away themselves, and would be willing to offer it… for a price.
It was a perfect scheme! She'd suffer, slowly hollowed out by liquid evil she'd just swallowed, while they could hold some milk or something similar close to her, offering it in exchange for whatever they felt they could get away with. In reality, she could fight her way to the milk or just use some of her own, but that would break her cover!
"Are you okay?" Alex asked, the concern clear on his face. His expression seemed genuine, but it was entirely possible he hadn't been clued in on the plan. Princesses were devious like that.
What could she do? The burning was starting to subside as it spread, but was in the ventilation now! If she showed weakness and asked for some of the fleet's milk, the abyssal would be at the mercy of the humans. They probably would just help her, but Trinitite didn't know Paloma nearly well to be certain she wouldn't take advantage of the opportunity.
Instead, she forced a smile, politely reported "I'm fine," and forced another spoonful of liquid fire down. It wasn't pleasant by any means… but compared to that bottle of tabasco? The tearing pain of shells plunging through deck after deck? Of shockwaves rattling her frames or real fires consuming her very core?
Yes… she would survive this. Conditions aboard Trinitite continued to deteriorate as she ate more and more of the wretched soup, but she knew she could fight her way through it. Determined not to let the poison get the better of her, she tried to focus on the conversation.
"I live-" She swallowed again, but the burning continued. "I live in an apartment north of here. It's, uh, near the highway."
"You sure you're doing okay?" Alex asked, clearly seeing through Trinitite's act.
"I can get you some milk or sour cream if it's too spicy." Paloma added, Alex's concern settling into her own features.
The Wo-class shook her head, desperately ignoring the scorching pain .
"No, it's-"
"It's fine!" The princess cut the abyssal off, standing abruptly and hurrying away. The urgency behind her voice seemed to be genuine, but again she didn't know the princess nearly as well as her son. "I'll get some for you!"
When the human returned, a familiar jug of white liquid in hand, she set it almost directly in front of Trinitite.
"I'm so sorry!" She emphasized. "I should have warned you about the spiciness, Sarah."
The abyssal studied the milk in front of her. It had been offered with an apology and no conditions, but that only made the abyssal feel more suspicious. The jug of milk had been opened before. Could it have been poisoned, too?
Unexpectedly, Alex plucked the jug from in front of her, filling his own glass before returning it to the abyssal. The Wo-class watched him take a drink himself, the glass's level dipping noticeably as he drank.
Well, if he felt safe drinking it…
Trinitite reached for the jug, filling her own glass. The burning that still filled her decks and wreaked havoc among her crew kept her skeptical, but perhaps the meal had been provided in good will after all…
The paint brush swayed in Alex's hand, its wetted tip slowly drawing closer to Intrepid's jacket. The miniature had received several coats of paint already, the fleet carrier's skin and slate-gray dress already coated in a couple thin layers of pigment. Like he always did, he'd underestimated the time needed to paint every ship in his fleet. Now that it was getting… Alex took a moment to check his watch… really late, he realized that if he wanted any energy in classes tomorrow, he'd have to end this painting session prematurely.
He looked up towards his… Could he call Sarah a friend? He looked up towards his friend, watching her apply a thick glob of fluorescent orange to the deep socket in a Wo-class's hat. As she spread the paint evenly across the socket, using significantly better technique than she did earlier in the day, he found his focus drifting to her soft features. That subtle smile. Those relaxed, comfortable eyes, seemingly blind to everything except the figure she was painting.
That didn't seem like the kind of expression one would have when painting their family's killers, but maybe he was just misreading his enigmatic coworker. Still, she seemed remarkably at peace, here. Between this and the transparent wonder she'd shown while they'd finished The Princess Bride, Alex suddenly realized how rare those moments were. There'd always seemed to be a kind of tension in Sarah, an element of stress that Alex could probably speculate endlessly about.
That seemed to be gone for the moment, though. Was it because he'd helped Sarah forget about whatever was troubling her? Perhaps she just felt comfortable around him. Whatever the reason, it was clear he'd done something right.
As she withdrew her brush, dipping it into the bowl they'd filled to clean their brushes, her gaze flicked to meet Alex's. He suddenly realized he was smiling, and mentally cursed himself. What kind of creep did he look like?
"Uh…" He started, unsure how to address the question in Sarah's gaze. "...It's already past eleven."
The answer was lame, little more than a distraction, but it seemed to work.
"Oh." She blinked. "You need to do something tomorrow?"
"Yeah, my classes start at five-thirty."
"Ah." She nodded unknowingly, and Alex suddenly wondered if she'd ever gone to school before. "I guess I should let you sleep, then."
"Yeah…" He trailed off, before realizing how that sounded. "Um, it's been a lot of fun! We can finish this tomorrow…"
…except he'll have homework tomorrow! Well, he guess he'd just have to focus on that and give Sarah any help she needed. Besides, considering how much simpler the color scheme of abyssals was, she should be able to finish up fairly quickly.
"That sounds great!" She replied, standing. "I don't really have a way to store these, but…"
"That's fine, you can leave them here for the night." He replied. "It's probably best we don't move these too much until we've sealed them, anyways."
"Alright." She started to turn. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Was… was she just walking away?
"You don't need a ride?" He asked.
Sarah froze for a second, before her head shifted to look back at Alex.
"What do you mean?"
"You're walking all the way across town, right?" He asked, something in his gut falling. Considering she couldn't even admit she needed milk, Alex knew how this conversation was going to end, but he still needed to try. "That's not safe."
Relatively speaking, Chehalis was pretty safe, but that didn't mean someone who looked like Sarah could trust everyone who lived in the town enough to be walking alone at this hour.
"I'll be fine." The Commissar's assertion came with a small smile, but the tension in Sarah was clear in the expression. "Besides, you need sleep."
"I can get my Mom to do it." Alex pleaded. "She'll be happy to know you're home safe."
For a moment, Sarah stared at Alex, clearly debating the offer. It seemed there was a glimmer of hope, but it died when the usual sad smile returned to Sarah's features.
"Thank you for the offer, but-" she swallowed, an excuse dying in her throat. "Thank you."
"Then, she left." Alex reported, sighing. His mother grimly nodded, Alex's concern mirrored on her own features.
"I see." She replied. "I get that we couldn't force her into the car, but still, I would have liked to talk to her, first. Hopefully she gets home safe."
"I'm not sure she has a home, Mom." Alex emphasized. It wasn't something he was sure about, god, he hoped he was wrong, but he couldn't rationalize the thought away no matter how hard he tried. "She's the type that would lie so we wouldn't worry about her."
"And she doesn't like getting charity, either…" Mother added, her brow creasing. "She might be in danger the next time a storm rolls in…"
Alex felt himself shiver. There was a chance that one day, something terrible could happen to her, and he'd only realize it when she didn't come in the next day. Sarah had nobody to fall back on in case of trouble out here...
"Alright." Paloma announced, the confidence in her voice pulling Alex out of his grim thoughts. "Tell her to think of it this way…"
One third of this chapter fought me a ton, and took the majority of the time I took on the chapter, and another third basically wrote itself in the course of a few days. I'll let you guess which scenes those were.
Referencing real fiction as a part of my own work always feels like I'm playing with fire somewhat. If someone wanted to read about The Princess Bride, they'd read or watch The Princess Bride. That's why I only really wrote Trinitite watching one scene, and relied more on vague references to other parts of the move. The aim is striking a balance between Trinitite interacting with a ubiquitous and highly influential aspect of human culture, without making the story be about that aspect of culture. Hopefully I got the balance correct, but if I didn't there's always the dinner scene to make up for it.
Hope you enjoyed!