returnjourneylogs | (no subject)

Passengers: William and 🤗 friends 🤠 and corporate ptsd 🚫🍟
Location: Loading bay, YOUR BED???, the cabin Grace and William are gonna break into
Date: Backdated a couple days, let's say the 26th
Summary: William returns from ~~hell~~ his mission, please don't ask him about it (please do).
Warnings: No one's dead yet!

William gets back late—the Avro's lone passenger, dressed in the suit he hasn't worn since his first day. It's a relief to touch down, but at the same time he wishes he'd told the little ship to circle the Peregrine once or twice. Like making another loop around the block. His steps ring through the deserted bay as he hurries to the observation bubble in time to watch the ship's departure.

He stays there long after it's gone, staring—well, out into space. Culina had beautiful views, but they had—like practically everything on the planet—been manufactured. He leans over the railing, cranes his neck. Savors the lack of buzzing neon, the not-quite-chill.

Exhaustion hits all at once, and he briefly considers spending the night in Warden Command. Instead he almost sleepwalks to the elevator, then to the dorms, where he flops onto the nearest bunk that isn't visibly occupied but may very well belong to someone. Closes his eyes and lets out a groan before he starts kicking off his shoes.

...look, there were a lot fewer inmates when he left.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Nothing like coming back from a long day of botanical research to a warden in your bed.

Theo stands there for a moment, frowning. Sure, it's a bottom bunk and it was momentarily unoccupied, but that doesn't mean it's yours!]

... Okay, so. You stay there, and I'm gonna go sleep in your cabin. Deal?

[ He really is tired—thoughts clouding over as soon soon as he's surrendered to the mattress. Body slack, although his feet dangle out of the pod. He lies still a moment, eyes closed. Breathing deep.

One eye cracks open. ] This must be a nightmare. I'm being negotiated with. [ William frees the heel of one foot, flips the shoe in Theo's vague direction. ]

Who's negotiating? You took my bed so I'm takin' yours. Seems like you made the choice for me.

[Maybe he's a little nervous about a warden suddenly in his cabin and he's trying his damnedest to act like it's fine. But unless William suddenly starts flipping the mattress and everything else in the cubicle, it should be fine. This was fine. With a huff, Theo climbs up to the now empty bunk above. He preferred the higher ground anyway.

It now dawns on him that William had been gone for awhile, too. Easy to notice since he slept in the dorms with the inmates.]

You enjoy your vacation or whatever?

[ There's a pause after Theo speaks—long enough, maybe, to give the impression the other man's fallen asleep—and then a second shoe thumps to the floor. William makes a sleepy noise in the affirmative, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and his feet vanish into the pod. ]

Mission. [ Some rustling sounds as William pulls himself into a sitting position, slumped against the back of the bunk. ] I got to see another planet. [ His cheer is faint and short-lived. ] It was depressing.

Mission? What fucking mission. I thought you were a warden.

[The movement in the bunk below worries him, so he peeks down over the edge.]

Hnn. That so. Starting to think most planets aren't as impressive as they could be. Did this one at least have a city on it?

I do what needs doing. [ Which, experience has borne out, will almost always be the thing he least wants to do.

He startles—it's slight but undeniable—at the sight of Theo's face. He's still in his suit, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. His hair slicked back but beginning to rebel. He drops his arms, straightens out his legs.

He rolls his eyes, but it's good-humored: there's a smile underneath. ] It was all city. A food court that devoured a planet. A bunch of companies devouring and regurgitating each other. They sold the sky for ad space. [ William runs a hand through his hair. Is it that unusual? Billboards, blimps. No—it was the scale of it all, like someone wallpapering a house with McDonald's wrappers.

Anyway: ] I'm glad to be back.

[Theo's brow furrows as he thinks about what that would look like, and then resettles himself a bit so his head isn't having as much blood rush to it.]

Sounds like Planet Times Square. [Not that it's even half as bad in Theo's time as it is in William's.] Not that I know if that makes any sense to you or not.

[He wrinkles his nose and scoffs at the idea of anyone being glad to be back on the Peregrine.]

You must be nuts. I wouldn't have come back.

I'm from Connecticut. [ There's a flat, deadpan quality to the remark, as if under other circumstances it would be funny. William nods to the foot of the bed. ] You can sit. [ On his own mattress! How generous.

He's silent a moment, thinking about Culina, wondering if New York had seemed as remote to Theo as another planet. ] I like you guys. I like—seeing people for who they could be. [ He shrugs, unabashed—too tired for it. ] You feeling homesick?

[He can't fathom for a second how anyone could like this place. The mind boggles.] You are nuts.

[He hesitates for a few moments before coming down. He wasn't too keen to sit and chat with a warden, but it was Theo's space. He'd feel better keeping an eye on his own stuff.

And besides, how many people in a day bother to have a conversation with this kid? He won't answer that question directly, but the answer is obviously yes. He sits opposite of William, looking away.]

I'd never left San Francisco before coming here.

[ He glances to Theo with almost startled urgency—finds Theo's gaze already averted. There are 987 dead people more deserving of his sympathy, but something about it is tragic, dying before you have the chance to leave the city you were born. ] Is that what the books are for? Taking you places?

[ He can't help it: he yawns, though it's more contented than tired. ] A few days in storage, you're almost ready to dodge New York traffic.

[Theo seems like he'd never considered that idea, but it's a bit too romantic of a notion for him. Considering he has a strong preference for adventure novels and exciting pulp stories, though, William probably isn't far off the mark.]

I dunno. I just like reading. Most books are better than real life any day.

[Says a kid who was studying magic. It's not as exciting as books would make it out to be all the time, though. So much studying, rote memorization, research. Fiction is a nice break.

He settles himself against the wall behind him.]

You say that like SF's traffic isn't something to be contended with. Ever been?