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[demonicbeauty]

[She's not Padmé Amidala. Nor is she Jane Foster. It's just Ariadne, sitting on the wooden floor of her home, in front of an enormous, four-poster bed with a canopy of sheer, white fabric. Splashes of color occasionally hit her face and the background, as her homemade mobiles, flitting with broken pieces of colorful glass, catch whatever sunlight there is. Her long, long, long brown hair is hanging loose over her left shoulder, crinkled to show that it's just come undone from its braid.]

I...I've noticed that a lot of important holidays seem to be in the middle of the winter. And I guess it makes sense. The days are short, the nights are long, and everyone is cold and missing fresh fruits and vegetables. It raises the spirit to have something to celebrate and people to celebrate it with.

[There's a small smile. A memory or two from her days in Valeria.]

Back home, the New Year was the most important holiday. There would be parties and feasts and masked balls. Presents. Lots of music...

[And she misses that music. But Ariadne won't let herself stay sentimental for long.]

Last year, I learned about an Earth holiday. The one where the fat man breaks into people homes and leaves them gifts, instead of stealing stuff. Christmas!

[Makes no sense, but it's a lovely sentiment.]

I was hoping to maybe learn about some other holidays from this time of year. What do your cultures celebrate? Maybe we can find a way to all celebrate together. I'm still convinced that togetherness is the only way we're going to survive this place. And I...I know I'm not alone, feeling that way.

[A small shrug.]

So let's talk to each other more. When there isn't an emergency. Talk about some of the happy things, maybe. Tell me about the good stuff.

[Ariadne doesn't really know where to go from here, so she shrugs again.]

Anyway, that's all. Sorry to interrupt anything.

Comments

[demonicbeauty]

Oh.

[A pause.]

Why do you call him that?

[family_remains]

...

Well. He kind of looks like a pineapple. It's a fruit. I think you'd like them.

[demonicbeauty]

I know what a pineapple is, Sam.

[It's not a pop culture reference.]

I don't think I've ever thought of him as looking like one.

[A pause.]

And "Darth?" Isn't that a title? Like Lord or Duke?

[family_remains]

Yeah, it's a Sith title.

And c'mon, think about it. If he didn't have his tattoos he'd just be.. a horny lemon.

[demonicbeauty]

I...I don't know.

[She genuinely considers it.]

I'm not sure he's lemon- or pineapple-colored.

But it's very rude to talk about things like that.

[family_remains]

How so? We can all be fruit, I don't care.

[demonicbeauty]

It's not the fruit.

It's talking about someone else's appearance.

[family_remains]

[A little shrug. Okay, touchy.]

[demonicbeauty]

[She sighs.]

What about my conversation with Savage?

[family_remains]

Well if I'm not allowed to talk about appearances why would I be allowed to talk about male pregnancy.

[demonicbeauty]

[She laughs.]

It's fine, Sam.

I'm trying to live openly, remember?

[family_remains]

Uhhuh.

So is that the real reason you shot me down or is it still about the being in love crap thing.

[demonicbeauty]

No, Sam. That's not why I turned you down.

[And we're back to awkward. Fun.]

I couldn't get you pregnant from sex, anyway. That's not how it works.

[family_remains]

[That is. That is literally how it works.]

.. so do you.. spit eggs into his mouth or what

[demonicbeauty]

[She makes a face.]

What? Ew. No.

There is no spitting.

[family_remains]

Sea catfish do it.. [IT IS A VALID QUESTION. A GROSS, VALID QUESTION.]

[demonicbeauty]

Alastrians aren't catfish.

[A pause.]

Some people think we're descended from dragons, actually. Although there's no real proof of it.

[family_remains]

I could see that for you.

[demonicbeauty]

Thank you, I think?

[She shakes her head.]

Anyway, Alastrian litters develop in a sac on a male's back, between the shoulder blades.

[family_remains]

[Well that sounds.. absolutely terrible. His face says as much.]

And I'm assuming you'd have to be Alastrian for that to, uh. Pollinate.

[demonicbeauty]

I...think so.

[Although she can't say with absolute certainty, can she?]

I'm pretty sure.

[family_remains]

Pretty sure..

[demonicbeauty]

There was a story once. I heard it from my father. About an Alastrian who somehow managed to mate with an Elf.

...but it might just be a story.

1/2

[family_remains]

In my experience it's the weird stories that are true more often than not.

2/2

[family_remains]

Maybe they spat in his mouth.