Vita Nova [AL]

Dreamless Realm

Dreamless Realm

Restless writer
Benefactor
Life on the Edge GM
Pronouns
They/them


@Treasure Your character arrived to an unfamiliar space station, and was told to stay outside a few office doors, along with many others, all kinds of people are sitting outside with you in some sort of waiting room. There is no way to see into any of the office.s

Some of them look nervous, watching over each other and grouping up often with their brethren, however unknown. Some look more aloof, however, not worried at all. A few have games in small, portable holo-projectors or even hyperthin 1 use ice screens.

One of the doors opens, drawing the attention of many. A medium height Bavethjan waits besides it, and nobody comes out. They look into a tablet and call your character's name.
 
Keith sat staring at nothing, long, thin, white fingers casually playing with each other. His spine was ramrod straight, but his head bowed, red eyes fixed on his hands. It would be fine. Everything was fine. They said they were looking for people wanting new lives, right? Well, he fit that description perfectly! He would fit right in. Or at least, he would not stand out any more than he usually did. Yes. Besides, what was the worse that could happen? They said no? It was not like he hadn't heard that before.

The quiet chatter of the others made his sensitive ears tingle, and he closed his eyes. Keep it together! Don't be an idiot and lose control. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was the matter. Just ignore them. Ignore the noise and the smell. Ignore-

Someone was calling his name. He jolted and stood up, his movement fluid despite his tension. "Yes, I am Kieth," he greeted, walking toward the door.
 
Inside, the lights were slightly dimmed in an attempt at making the experience more pleasant for Keith. There was a wide desk, and two chairs at opposite sides of it. The door shut gently behind Keith.

A blue skinned alien was sitting at the desk, regarding Keith with a kind expression on their face. They were an organic Bavethjan, dressed in a formal uniform over their usual undersuit.

"Welcome, Keith!, I'm Kevve. Please take a seat, I have your file right here so we can go over it together." They said, holding a thin tablet on the table, and smiling gently at the other.
 
"Um, hello, yes, hello," Keith said, bobbing his head nervously. He slid into the seat, taking up only the edge. He seemed like a bird poised for flight even though physically he could have beaten any one or multiple of them in hand-to-hand combat. He looked around the room with wide eyes before focusing on the blue skinned person before him.

He took a steadying breath, calming himself visibly. "I was told you take any that want a new life."
 
"Ah well, anyone... that's something you'd have to take to the marketing department, honestly. But we are very open and welcoming, of course." They explained.
"You're lucky, no bavethjan were involved in any issues you've had so far. At least none that were described in your file, your diet isn't very different from ours, besides a few oddities. That's a topic I wanted to talk about with you. We haven't had many relationships with your particular race before, so forgive me if I happen to say anything offensive. I assure you it will come from ignorance, and not from any malicious intent."

Kevve smiled, a row of sharp teeth that could have been threatening.

"Now, your diet needs blood. Would you mind explaining to me what kind and in what amounts you need it to live comfortably?" They asked.
 
Keith eyed the teeth. Shark teeth? Not quite, but interesting. He did not bother commenting on the offense comment. He tended to flip back and forth between absolutely nothing offending him or every little thing offending him. Not to mention he had absolutely no idea what would or would not offend these people, but he was not too bothered about that.

"Two pints a week is average," he said slowly, considering his diet. "The synthetic stuff, it varies. Usually I need a little more than two pints of that, but some brands get close or better to the right percentage of lipids, proteins, salts, sugars, and clotting factors needed by my race to have a healthy diet. I need other foods, but that part is far less exact. I mean to say, I have more liberties with that."
 
"This question might seem a bit silly, but some people actually prefer synthetic grass beer before the real thing... Do you prefer synthetic blood, or real?." Asked Kevve with a soft laugh, completely unbothered.

So far, they just went over a few pictures on their tablet for the next few choices and questions to give Keith.
 
"The real thing always tastes better!" Keith replied promptly. "It is so rich and warm. The synthetic does not heat up well." He hesitated. "But... the synthetic is generally... safer. Sometimes I forget to be gentle." He dropped his gaze. "I feel bad later."
 
"I see what you mean, we'll take it into consideration. But... no promises." Said Kevve with a nod.

"Now, why don't you tell me about yourself and where you see yourself thriving?. Not just living, scraping by or surviving. Talk to me about your ideal setting and life. Your dreams, goals... just tell me how you feel about it all." They said, setting the tablet to record Keith's words for later use. "And don't be shy, not even if your ideal is problematic by other people's standards."
 
"I..." Keith hesitated, his eyes wandering. "No one has ever asked me that. I have not even thought about that in a long time. I do not know how I would... flourish." He paused again, thinking. "I think I would flourish..." His hands twitched suddenly and he dropped his gaze. "No, hold on. Don't get excited," he whispered harshly.

When he felt calmer, he looked up again. "I do not know how I would flourish, exactly, but I have talents in speed and I am good with my hands, but I am not sure what I need beyond that and..." He bit his lip. "I do not think you have any power over this, but I would really like a friend. I have never had one of those before. It sounds like quite a sob story, doesn't it? A bit pathetic." He couldn't help smiling at himself.
 
Kevve nodded again and gave Keith a warm smile. Their four eyes glinted with a positive feeling.

"You'd be surprised, about how many people have a difficulty forming relationships, therapy can be a great help with that. And I'm speaking from experience." They explained.

"Would you prefer somewhere urban, like a big city, or more rural?. Let's start with that, where would you like to live?. It doesn't have to be permanent by the way."
 
"I think maybe urban would be safest," Keith said after a moment of thought. "Rural sounds really pretty, though. I would not mind trying that if it would be safer. I worry about being alone to much, my head gets... funny. I don't like too many people either, though, it gets too chaotic. Can you really pick where I live?"
 
"Hmm, yeah, of course we can. Ideally, you should be able to pick as well. Clean slate, remember?" Said Kevve, already having a good idea of here Keith might like to live.

"There are smaller settlements, village sized, that are usually within a reasonable distance of bigger urban areas. You wouldn't be alone, my people... we're really social. Always in groups, families, and very welcoming of newcomers. Does that sound alright?. It would also offer jobs of the physical kind, like working in farms, construction or deliveries"
 
Keith slowly brightened with every word. "Yes!" he breathed. "I could do deliveries! I do not know if I could do farmwork, but I would try." He smiled as he pictured himself running all over the country with packages. That could be fun! And farm animals always looked fuzzy and like possible food.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed as he eyed Kevve. "I do not do family. Or relationships," he stated, his tone suddenly harsh. "I can't be trusted, and family gets on my nerves. I won't be adopted!"

He caught himself, his white cheeks flushing. He dropped his eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't mean my burst outs, sir... ma'am... commander."
 
"Kevve is alright, Keith... and there's always found families, like friends. A family doesn't have one definition, you know. You can build one out of friends, and relationships can also be just that, friendship." Explained the bavethjan.

"Something you wont be used to, probably, is the way my people understand gender. We don't have two different sexes, or genders. It's all the same for us. Just one gender, neutral pronouns. In our language -Xenthe- is the word used to refer to others directly, untranslated, if that helps you." They explained, turning a bit more serious.

"Of course, nothing is stopping us from adopting different pronouns should our identity vary from the norm, but it's pretty rare and you'll be told in any case. Is that alright?. It might be a lot to take in and confusing at first, but it is what it is."
 
Keith stared him blankly for several silent seconds. "I do not understand," he finally stated. "I don't think I need to, though, not really. Whatever you are used to or what your culture says, I've been around enough not to be bothered too much. I once met a race where the genitilia was in their knees. And while they had hims and hers, I never could work out which was which."
 
That got a soft laugh out of Kevve, who didn't really press on the subject. Not everyone understood, but everyone could choose to be respectful. That was enough.

"Good, then. We know you'd like to do deliveries. A residence in a small settlement won't be hard to find. I understand that you prefer places without much solar radiation?. You have quite a pale complexion. It'll probably result in cold biomes though, and always close to water."
 
"I have never really been anywhere cold for an extended period, but if I go somewhere bright, I will not be able to come out except at night. I have done that before, but I want to change how I am living," Keith said, happy to leave the gender discussion behind. "You said this is not permament, yes? I could try the cold region, and if it is not good for me, I could go elsewhere?"
 
"Of course, that is always an option, Keith. There's always space stations and zerograv cities, but those tend to be more multi-cultural and mixed settings. It isn't always guaranteed that the residents won't have a problem with us moving ex-criminals in. You have to live in a Bavethjan colony for 3 to six Megacycles to obtain full citizenship. Only then do other races have nothing to say on where you go, sadly. Intergalactic relations are complicated..." They sighed, looking down at the tablet and stopping the recording.

"Now, as it happens... since you mentioned wanting a friend, we have several people who volunteer to help newcomers settle. They'll travel with you, make sure you're comfortable, and be your direct connection to us. They'll be friendly, and we've got three applications for you to choose from. Are you ready to see them now?" Said Kevve.
 
Keith wasn't surprised to hear at least some of his movement would be restricted as far as where he could go. Ex-criminals were often frozen out, but he couldn't really blame people. Especially not in his case. It would be nice if it were not true, but in certain cases it was justified. In others, not so much.

When Kevve offered to introduce his new friends, Keith straightened, taking in a deep breath. "Do you mean... do you mean that I qualified?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Do you mean that you will take me on? Truly?"
 
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