Fragile

[When Vie speaks, her voice is quiet, words more to herself than anyone else. In the background a man's voice, or rather that of a pumpkin, pleads with her to kill him.]

You look the part, but you are not him.

[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]

In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.

[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b

She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]

How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.

[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]

Stay out of my head, Deior.

[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]

[Vie is on the top deck, perched on a ledge a little ways off the ground and looking rather relaxed to be there. Her eyes are on the sky, watching the now normal stars. Beside her is a bottle of liquor, opened and partially consumed. She's not drunk... yet, but she's on her way to being that bit more open than usual.

When the audio feed starts, it's catching her out mid song. The words are foreign, the song a tune from her homeworld. Her voice is soft, but clear and the tune a little melancholy. She trails off, lost in thought and then, Vie speaks.]

A question, fellow passengers. What do you miss the most about home?

[Everything that happened before her arrival is finally catching up on her. Vie clicks off the comm.]