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Cerydra (hsr) and Carlotta (wuwa) are my daughters, don't be weird about anyone but if you're weird about them, instant block <3
Fictecyâ â ââ â The need to be perceived as fictional, or as a character. Being seen otherwise ( or as "real" ) may cause discomfort or dysphoria.
Kafkaâs slowly growing absence in the Stellaron Hunters has got to be building to something.
Back with Silver Wolf & Bladeâs voice lines about her, it was clear that she still spent a fair amount of time with the rest of the Hunters.
And then we get Fireflyâs, and she seems to be distant from at least Firefly now.
And now Silver Wolf Lv.999âs voice line..?
Silver Wolf is close to Kafka. Weâve seen it. But Kafka is still basically MIA when not called for missions now.
Trailblazerâs absence is absolutely affecting her. Its not even a question. The one thing that we know coincides with Kafkaâs growing distance from the Hunterâs is the Trailblazerâs departure.
With how fear is connected to other emotions, I cant imagine the way sheâs responding is standard. And Kafka probably doesnt know how to react to the loss any more normally than Silver Wolf does. Sheâs never had a connection like the one she does with the Trailblazer. Theyâre literally essentially soulmates.
Blade responded the healthiest to the Trailblazerâs departure as far as we know. Firefly started to get depressed and cling to a promise supposedly forgotten. Silver Wolf basically ignored the fact they werent in the same party anymore and inserted herself right back in their life. And Kafka started to genuinely slowly shut down and pull away from everyone else.
Itâs absolutely building up to something. The only questions are what, and when. (5.x at the latest pleaseeee i need more Kafka content⌠by all means considering weâre getting a Silver Wolf and Blade sp, we should be due for Kafkaâs next cause she came out after themâŚ)
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in which silver wolf and sunday realize they have more in common than they'd originally thought. 2.1k words.
Itâs just about 4:00:00 system time when Silver Wolf finds herself pulling yet another all-nighter.
Sleep doesnât come easily to her; as much as she needs it (much to her chagrin, as unfortunate as it is, she is painfully human and thus needs sleep as everyone else does), she often finds herself staying well into the wee hours of the night with her room shrouded in darkness and her face illuminated by her various consoles and monitors.
She stifles a yawn as her thumbs move on autopilot across the rhythm game she has up on her phone. To any normie, the bright colors and flashing lights wouldâve given them a seizure with how rapidly they blinked. But Silver Wolf is already starting to get bored of it - even at this speed, the game was too boring, too slow.
Thereâs little to no joy as the victory screen flashes. With a sigh and a stretch of her arms, Silver Wolf leans back in her chair.
Sheâs bored, so incredibly bored.
Nothing interesting is happening anymore. Itâs like the cosmos has gone dead-silent, waiting for the next update or patch to come. Except unlike with games, Silver Wolf canât just leave this reality and pick up another one.
She stares up at the ceiling despite the lack of light. It isnât like anyoneâs awake at this time, either. Firefly might be, but sheâs off in a whole ânother star system and probably doesnât feel like having some fun - not after Penacony. Bladeâs knocked out, and Silver Wolf would eat her shoe before she asked Kafka of all people to game.
That leaves two people: Elio, and the new recruit.
And Elio hasnât left his man-cave for the last three weeks - not like Silver Wolf would play with him, anyways. Heâs got to be one of the most boring players of all time; he already knows everything thatâs going to happen, and so heâs never lost.
As for Sunday, wellâŚ
She raises her hand and violet-blue screens materialize at her fingertips. She sorts through the baseâs security camera feeds (made by yours truly), scrolling mindlessly until she spots something, no, someone in the hall outlooking the cosmos.
She grins. Perfect.
With a cartoonish popping noise, she teleports right besides Sunday so she can speak in his ear.
âWhatcha looking at?â
Sunday jumps, wings flaring like a deer in highlights. He unfortunately doesnât scream in absolute terror, nor does he jump back with a face so scandalized it would rival that of the oldest and most traditional of great-great-grandparents.
Silver Wolf bites her lip to hide her disappointment. Indifferently, she tilts her head and lands neatly on the floor besides Sunday.
As soon as he gets his bearings back, Sunday sighs with a pointed look. âWas that really necessary?â
âOf course,â Silver Wolf snickers, planting her hands on her hips.Â
She kind of hates how she has to crane her neck up to look at him - over three years of working with the Hunters, and sheâs yet to find someone who wasnât taller than her. And sheâs been drinking a lot of milk, too (never let Kafka find out. If she did, Silver Wolf was going to throw herself off the top of Pier Point)!
âYou didnât answer my question, though. Whatâre you doing up so late, Mr. Wings?â
If Sunday cares for her nickname, he doesn't show it. He rarely shows anything. âI could say the same to you, Miss Silver Wolf.â
âWell, since youâre new, Iâll let this slide. But itâs pretty well-known around here that I donât exactly need sleep.â
Sunday raises a brow. âIs that right?â
Thinly veiled amusement laces his tone. He obviously doesnât believe her.
âYou donât have to believe me,â she shrugs, feigning indifference. âIsnât the fact that Iâm here proof in of itself?â
Her eye twitches when Sunday insteads lets out a breathy chuckle, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Time and time again, Silver Wolf has been looked down on because of her stature and young age, and many more times sheâs used that to her advantage. Sheâs been called a child, immature, a brat - all by people she would eventually bring down with ease.
But for some reason, she doesnât see that condescending gaze in Sundayâs eyes. No, itâs something different - something⌠warm, and fond.
It creeps her the hell out.
âItâs rude to stare,â she clips, crossing her arms. âDidnât your parents ever teach you that?â
Sundayâs gaze becomes downcast. Shit. Did she say something she shouldnât have?
âMy parents wereâŚâ
Fuck.
âYou donât have to finish that,â she interrupts hastily. Sunday shakes his head.
âNo, itâs alright.âÂ
Looking up to the great vastness of the universe, Sundayâs eyes become unfocused, as if gazing upon something far, far into the distance, something that couldnât be seen by the naked eye.
âMy parents left me at a very early age due to the Stellaron Crisis,â he begins. Internally sighing, Silver Wolf falls silent. âFor as long as Iâve ever known, Robin was the only person I had. We did everything together, from our lessons to sneaking out at night to watch the stars.â
âYou? Sneak out?â Silver Wolf raises a brow. Maybe he isnât as uptight as she thought he was.
âIt was mainly Robinâs idea, although I was more of a troublemaker than I am now.â
âYouâre a wanted criminal.â
âThatâs besides the point.â
Well, at least thereâs potential. Silver Wolf wouldnât know what to do if she had a religious prick with a stick up his ass as a coworker⌠heâd be fun to tease, but thatâs it. Regardless, she nods for him to continue.
âAnyways, it goes without saying that Robin was⌠is very important to me. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, even if it meant that Gopher Wood would target me instead of her. And⌠as much as I owe to Gopher Wood, he wasnât the kindest of father figures.â
He turns his head slightly to meet Silver Wolfâs eyes. She hopes that her expression is normal.
âSo, forgive me, if I haven't learnt anything my parents shouldâve taught me.â
Whatever sympathy Silver Wolf had shrinks quite quickly. Her face drops into a pout.
âAlright, geez,â she groans, stretching her arms. âIâm sorry, okay? I said something insensitive.â
Sunday hums. âAre you really?â
Her pout drops into a glower. âIf youâre thinking of making me grovel, think again. Iâm not going to stoop that low.â
âAlright, alright,â Sunday concedes with a smile. âI forgive you.â
Thereâs something in the way he speaks that makes it so that she doesnât even want to grace him with a response. Turning her cheek with a huff, she joins him in watching as the nebulae pass by.
For a moment, the world is still. Silence envelops the base, and the only sound is a distant soundtrack of classical music.
Then, for reasons she doesnât know herself, she speaks.
âYou know, I also had a sibling.â
In the reflection of the window, she sees Sundayâs brows raise with intrigue. Warmth rushing to her cheeks, she coughs and hastily continues. By the End, why did she ever think this was a good idea?
âWell, they werenât as much a sibling as they were a coworker. But they were the only one who could ever keep up with me. Iâve yet to meet another person like them, and I doubt that I ever will. They were like a 5-star artifact that rolled into all of the right substats.â
âYou say âwereâ,â Sunday observes carefully. âHave theyâŚ?â
âTheyâre not dead,â Silver Wolf says bluntly. âThey just left. I see them sometimes, but they donât remember me.â
âDonât be.â Silver Wolf waves him off. If heâs about to get all sappy or therapist-y with her, she doesnât want part in any of it. âIt was going to happen one way or another. It was in the script.â
âStill, isnât it lonely?â
Lonely?
Silver Wolf doesnât know what to make of that word. Loneliness implied the lack of companions, of which she has many - excluding the Hunters, she has Friend, Demon Lord, White Collar, and Servant. They are the ones who have been with her ever since her days in that dingy old fast-food restaurant. With them around, she was never alone.
But that doesnât seem to be what Sunday is asking.
âI donât know,â she says nonchalantly. âIt is boring without them, though.â
Sunday doesnât reply. The silence returns, but this time with a heavier weight. Her chest constricts - she wants to sigh, but holds herself back.
Itâs stupid, anyways, to grieve for someone who never left. She still sees them, after all. They just⌠donât like her as much as they used to.
A memory sheâs tried to bury comes to mind - the Astral Expressâs cabin, a hologram, and a distrustful gaze, and a word that haunts her more than sheâd like to admit: Intruder.
Ugh, whatever. She knew it would happen; Elio had warned her. Sheâd read the script. Sheâd taken their memories herself. She even made fun of Kafka when they didnât fully remember her.
Sheâs being stupid - maybe this is why Blade always told her to not stay up too late. Emotions are dumb, and she does not have the time to deal with them-
Thereâs a gentle weight on her head, and then a soft rustling of her hair. Silver Wolf bluescreens.
âIt isnât a sin to miss someone,â Sunday offers softly. âNor is it a weakness. All it means is that you treasured that person deeply.â
âI know,â Silver Wolf mutters. She hates how her throat has become a little choked up. Slapping his hand away, she shoots him a disgruntled look. âIâm not a child, by the way. You donât have to treat me like one.â
âMy apologies,â Sunday chuckles, returning his hand behind his back. âIâm afraid I got a tad bit carried away. I do hope you can forgive me, Miss Silver Wolf.â
âWhatever,â Silver Wolf sighs, dusting off her hair in a meager attempt to get it back in line. âAnd you donât have to call me that.â
âCall you what?â
âMiss. It sounds stuffy. Just call me Silver Wolf, like everyone else does.â
âNot everyone, though,â Sunday points out, mirth glimmering in his eyes. âIf I recall correctly, doesnât Miss Kafka refer to you as-â
âCall me âWolfieâ, and Iâll drop you off at the IPC. â
âPoint taken.â
Silver Wolf squints. She doesnât like Sundayâs tone, still patronizing as ever - but maybe thatâs just how he talks. Eh, who cares. He isnât the only one who talks weird - Kafka would give him a run for his money.
In search of some sort of stimulation, her phone materializes in her hands and she starts up yet another game - that Origami Bird game that sheâd dueled against them with.
As always, she opts for PVP - Aeons know how dull the A.I.âs playing style is. But barely one minute in, and she already finds herself itching for something new.
âIs that from Penacony?â
Silver Wolf nearly jumps out of her skin, but thankfully, she manages to play it off well. Sunday is looking just over her shoulder, intrigue barely noticeable but still present.
âYeah,â she says, shifting away slightly so that he doesnât breathe on her. âGot launched a few days after you got arrested. Wanna play?â
Surprise flickers briefly over his dove-like features. âI⌠I suppose I could; although, I do have to warn you - it has been quite some time since Iâve picked up a video game.â
âReally?â Silver Wolf wrinkles her nose as she hands him one of her consoles. âWhat do you do in your free time, then?â
Sunday blinks. Silver Wolf blinks back.
âMy what?â
Silver Wolf visibly cringes.
âGood grief, how are you worse than Blade?â She blows a raspberry, starting up the game. Atop her head, her holographic origami bird flutters to life, nestling into her hair comfortably. A few moments, and soon Sunday's own avatar materializes with a gentle coo. âAlright, whatever. Get the tutorial done, and then Iâll PVP you.â
âAh, alright. How do I do that again-?â
Does he even know what PVP means? She doubts it. But as the familiar theme song begins to play, the chirps of the holographic birds fill up the empty silence, and she once again finds herself in the motions of teaching someone to play, she can hardly bring herself to care.
