Possibilities
Document
Possibilities
by Proud Flame
Proud was, for once, not in motion. Rather, he stat alone, in the deep nightwatch of the Tartigarde’s watch rotation, having asked the shiplets to make the viewscreens transparent. Cameras and video never seemed to capture the reality of the Phlogiston, and the shifting hues and twisting waves of its presence reflected in his eyes.
Max, when she entered the bridge, did so with a cup of coffee and a yawn; she took in Proud with some curiosity as she dropped into her station, noting the Tabaxi’s boneless lounging across the arms of the Captain’s chair, and his fixation on the colors beyond the ship. “Penny for your thoughts?”
He flashed teeth in that grin of his - not quite looking away. “Max. They’re all over the place. You might need a few pennies to get anything coherent.”
“Well, I have some pocket change. Howabout a quarter?”
“Ha! Right. You know, I’ve never gotten tired of looking at it. All the times I’ve seen it, everywhere I’ve been - which … isn’t as many places as everyone thinks, but is more than they know… it never really changes. I think that’s kind of the point. Nobody knows what it is, everyone has suspicions - me? I think it’s the stuff of existence, just.. Unspun. Not put in motion by one power or another.”
“It’s just…” He waved a clawed hand. “Infinite possibility. Which is probably really prosaic and utterly untrue as I just don’t think possibility would be that combustible - but I’m a romantic, and screw it. Why not?”
Max tapped her cup absently with a nail, curious, “Nobody knows?”
“Nobody. Not a soul. If the Powers know, they’re not saying. You know, Max, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more whole. Isn’t that funny? Growing up, I just had this sense that there was something out there I needed to go find. I think.. I think maybe I found it. I’m not a firm believer in Destiny, but I’m starting to lend it a little more credence.”
Max laughed, “Really?”
“Really. I’ve had a hard time trusting the path in front of me. I’ve gotten caught up in all the troubles or the moment and … I’ve lost track of faith. I’ve had to face down faith, these days, and I have had problems getting it to agree with me. But you know? I think… I think it makes more sense now. I’m starting to understand it’s not the ending, it’s the dance itself. It goes on forever - we take on our parts, and we shape it, hopefully for the better, and we leave it in our turn. Even if it doesn’t remember us, it’s different because we were in it.”
He went on, thoughtful - “I think maybe - just maybe - people like us, all of us? We have inordinate influence on it. I was asking myself ‘why me’? What’s so special about me that makes -me- worthy of that kind of thing? And then I realized - that’s the wrong question. It’s not ‘why me?’... it’s ‘why not me?’ Why shouldn’t it be? Who else would I really trust outside of the people in this ship? Maybe we won’t get it right, but I trust our hearts, and our futures. So .. why not? Really.”
Max looked at the Tabaxi over her glasses. “Huh. I never really looked at it that way.”
“It’s in the trying that things are better. It’s in wishing that things improve. That’s what this is - and I’m starting now to understand the promise I made. Making the dance one filled with joy and hope isn’t always about winning - it’s about doing the right thing, and letting other people see that hope doesn’t end even if we do.”
He stood, then - languid and easy. “I’m going to go hit the workout room. Call for me if anything happens? I want to … I dunno. Move.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks. Tell them a story - the shiplets? They love stories.” He left then, humming softly to himself.
