Under normal circumstances, TO would have loved their flight time. On this day in particular, they should have been especially thrilled, as it was the first time in a long time when their wings felt powerful. They still couldn’t do the more complex maneuvers that were easy to them once, but they could fly with ease.
They should have loved it, but they didn’t. There was an odd anxiety building up in them and they were certain it had to be because of the approaching ship, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like that was the issue. If that was the issue, they’d only be able to think about the ship, rolling the problem around their head in search of solutions. Instead, it was like their mind couldn’t settle on a single issue.
They were anxious for no reason, and that was even worse than being anxious for a reason. They even tried to convince themselves that the oncoming ship was a huge issue, that if they didn’t think of a better solution than just waiting to see if it crossed paths with them, then Scraprock would be destroyed and everyone would die and it would be their fault since Kei only knew where they were going because of TO’s chip!
It didn’t work. Somehow, the knowledge that Runala had so much more experience with this kind of situation than TO did put them entirely at ease. In fact, when they managed to convince themselves briefly that it was something to worry about, they remembered how long Runala had been running Scraprock, and how confidant they were. They reminded themself that Runala, like themself, was a ‘strange synth’ and would be able to come up with ideas just as easily as TO. They’d then enjoy a brief moment of relief which was instantly followed by the growing, gnawing anxiety over... nothing.
This continued until, distracted, TO missed their contact on a pipe and ended up slamming into the pipe under it, knocking the wind from their lungs as they scrambled to hold on and keep from falling. Mirian flew behind them, easily grasping the pipe TO had been aiming for with their feet and carelessly swinging over it so they could hang upside down to watch TO struggle to regain both their footing and composure.
“You missed.” Mirian said. TO had their back to them and Mirian was speaking Synth speak so their voice had no tone to it. Still, TO was certain that if they could see their ears, they would see the particular way they flicked - a mixture of amusement and smugness.
“I’m well aware.” The words came out in a gasp as TO pulled themself up onto the pipe, straddling it as they caught their breath.
“You’re not flying right today.”
TO frowned and looked at Mirian. To their surprise, they seemed less amused and more just concerned. With a heavy sigh, TO nodded. “Yes, I know. I thought I was doing better, but maybe I was pushing myself too much.”
“That’s not it.” Mirian said, “I mean, I’m not as good at this kind of stuff as Pulsar is, but as far as I can see, you’re moving right, but you’re not paying attention.”
TO’s ears burned in indignation, pinning back as they glowered silently at Mirian. “I always pay attention.”
“Not today.” They said. “Why?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Your ears say otherwise.”
“Fine.” TO hissed, their temper snapping like brittle glass. “No. I’m not fine. There’s a ship heading our way, and Runala doesn’t seem to care about it! They just think they can manage whatever it is when they get closer, but it might be a synth ship and they don’t care! And I should care more, but I don’t! I’m anxious, I feel like I need to move but I can’t focus on what I’m doing so I end up bashing into a pipe and breaking a damn rib, and while that’s going on you’re there being So helpful in pointing out that ‘I missed!’” They looked away, their hands clenching into fists, “And now, I’ve been shouting at you, so in about five minutes I’m going to feel awful about this too!” TO hadn’t noticed their voice rising like that until they were almost done with what they were saying, and now the silence that fell after was deafening. The sudden burst of anger drained away, leaving them only with the gnawing in their stomach. Immediately, they wanted to apologize, but they just didn’t know how to after all that.
“You don’t gotta feel awful,” Mirian said after a while. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I shouted at you.”
“And I don’t take it personally.” Mirian let go of the pipe and dropped down before swooping back up and landing on the platform around the edge of the room. “Come here.”
TO watched as Mirian landed and went to their tote bag - an old, worn thing that they probably had when they were still in King Decon’s service, but which was now covered in pins and painted in black strikes on jewel tones. They looked up as they took something from the bag, and saw TO still sitting on the pipe, “Really come here, I got something that’ll help.”
TO loosened their grip with a sigh and slipped so they were upside down on the pipe, then let go and flew over to the platform to see what Mirian had. As they approached, they saw Miriam pull a little baggie from their pack, which contained some kind of pink-toned fruit leather.
“Here.” They said, opening the bag and holding it out to TO, “Chew on this. You’ll feel better.”
TO wrinkled their nose, “Drugs?”
Mirian pursed their lips, their ears flicking in consideration. “Depends on how you define a drug, I suppose.” They said. “It’s not dangerous. It doesn’t have any long-term effects - well, so long as you’re not eating it all day every day for months on end - but it helps us when we’re feeling like this.”
“like what?”
Mirian gave another flick of the ears - thought, consideration- as they bit their lips. “Sometimes,” they said, taking care with their words, “We can feel almost like we want to jump out of our skin. We’re anxious, we need to move, we can’t focus on doing anything, and we get quick tempered. This helps to calm that down.”
TO eyed the bag and the strange pink strips inside carefully. “Addictive?”
“Nope.”
“Synthetic?”
“Natural. Actually, it’s from Apoikia. It’s used as a kind of medicine there. We just grow it here and process it ourselves.”
TO’s ear dipped as Mirian said it was medicine. “Is this a sickness? Am I sick?”
“You’re not sick, I promise!” Mirian said, their ears flicking in a mixture of amusement and panic, “You’re fine. This is just something that happens occasionally, and this is how it’s treated.”
“What happens, though?”
“I really can’t explain it, but I promise you’re fine. You’re not sick. It happens all the time to Runala. They just eat this when it does and they’re fine.”
At the very least, Mirian wasn’t lying about anything they said. After an extra moment of consideration, TO reached out and took a piece. “How much do I need to eat?”
“Just chew on it throughout the day.” They said, “It’s like gum. What you got there will last a few days. Just Break some off and start chewing. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”
TO broke off a small piece from the end - it wasn’t sticky at least - and stored the rest in their pocket before chewing on the piece. It had an earthy, nutty taste which surprised TO, as they were expecting something far sweeter.
With a heavy sigh, Mirian sat down, crossed legged, on the platform. “Give it a bit before you fly again.” They said, “Once it kicks in, and then we’ll see how you do.” Their ears perked up, pinned slightly but not angrily, “I don’t want you to actually hurt yourself. I want to race you, or run an obstacle course as soon as possible, so I can’t have you getting hurt!”
TO looked aside, their ears dipping down. “I don’t know that you’ll get to do any of that.”
“Oh?” Mirian looked up, confused for a moment, their own ears dipped down. “Oh. right. Runala said you all would be leaving for Apoikia. But, they also said it wouldn’t be until you were healed, so-“
“Apparently, it could take another month or so before I’m back to what I was,” TO said, “We were just staying until I was able to move normally on my own power, and fly more or less normally. Goretta and DH looked me over the other day and said I’m good to go.” With a flush of their ears, they added, “Once Runala and Pulsar are available, we’re going to talk to Runala about charting our course.”
“Well, I’ll just have to wait until you get back.” Mirian pulled a water bottle from their bag and took a long drink. “Better keep in shape, because I plan a proper little competition when you’re back.”
TO chewed slowly, hesitating before they spoke, “I don’t know if we’ll be coming back.” They said. “We may stay on Apoikia.”
“Right.” Mirian fell silent as they put far too much attention into putting the cap back onto their water bottle. “Is this because of what I said?” They asked, “Runala said I shouldn’t have said anything, but they’re talking about that stuff all the time, so I’m just used to it! But I swear, I’ll never bring it up again-“
“It’s not that!” TO’s ears dipped back down, “I promise, it’s nothing to do with this place, or you, or anything!”
“Then why leave?”
“We need to go to Apoikia. We think Avery has that shatter-sickness.”
Mirian scoffed, “That’s an old translation.” They said, “I don’t even think they use that on Apoikia anymore. I could be wrong though, they’re old fashioned.”
“Well, what do you call it?” TO said as their ears pinned back.
“Depression.” Mirian said, “Specifically, depression caused by loss or abandonment, but depression nevertheless.”
“I read that it was a serious sickness, and that if you knew someone suffering it, you had to talk to-“
“An adult?” The amused flicking overtook Mirian’s ears once more. “You must be reading the book for children. I can get you a copy of one we wrote that’s far less traditional and made for adults.”
TO’s eyes narrowed, “The book said it could be deadly in some cases!”
“Yes, depression can be.” Mirian suddenly caught the way TO’s ears pinned back, and their ears dropped. “Look, sorry. I don’t mean to be-“ they pursed their lips, trying to think of the right word. Finally, they gave up and said, “An ass. I don’t mean to be an ass, but you’re reading old books meant for children. I promise, Avery can get better here just as easily as they can get better on Apoikia. Maybe better, and -“ They paused, and shook their head, “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“We shouldn’t talk about this now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re probably still on edge, and that stuff you’re chewing will take a little longer to kick in.”
Another flurry of anger overcame them, but this time they remembered how they snapped at Mirian earlier, and how awful they felt afterwards. Maybe Mirian was right. Maybe they shouldn’t talk about this now. Whatever Mirian wanted to talk about, it could wait.