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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

[opress]

Our younger brother. He's dead.

[demonicbeauty]

I'm sorry.

[Again, no pity. Just understanding.

Actual, literal understanding, in this case. She lost quite a few siblings.]

[opress]

[He believed her. Her tone implied she understood.]

I know.

[demonicbeauty]

But...

[She takes a deep breath.]

You are not disposable. You are a person with your own mind, your own thoughts, your own desires.

Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

[opress]

[He expected that might be going a bit far, but people seemed to have trouble accepting the futility of the lives some lived.]

I suppose. [He didn't sound that convinced.]

Being my own person doesn't mean I'm not disposable. Few would mourn my passing if it occurred.

[demonicbeauty]

Well, I would.

You've been nothing but kind to me.

[opress]

You're strange.

[Default response for things that make him uncomfortable.]

[demonicbeauty]

So I've been told.