thisavrou | voice;

[It’s been a long time since she’s addressed the community. While she’s always sounded annoyed, now there’s a heartache behind the anger. An exhaustion, a defeat.]

Back in the desert we got this story that gets told to every greenie that shows up in the sand. That it don’t matter if you went and got dusted ‘cause your shadow still lives on. [A shaky, sharp breath.] Killjoys never die.

But in this place, it ain’t true. The desert doesn’t believe in death but here there’s no life to begin with. Light’s out is just light’s out. [The anger in her voice picks up, deep and visceral.] All this place gives is empty promise after empty promise, dangles lil’ shiny pieces of hopin’ right in your face then laughs it away again. Just makes everythin’ you were ever told one damn cruel joke.

[There’s a few moments of nothing of but heavy breathing and snotty snuffles before she starts again, voice forcibly more calm.]

So why don’t all you rat kings and thrill seekers and wannabe white suits give me a new story worth believin' in?

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I've lost a lot, more than once. Even before I came aboard the ship.

It never gets any easier. I don't think any amount of stories will fix that. No story really has an end.

What the long version of the story you tell in the desert?

Never? We're just supposed to carry it all the time? It don't seem right.

Dr. Death used to say it when he was signing off sometimes. The other DJs would too. One of them used to tell everyone- [She pauses, starts again.] He used to tell me about the Witch. How she'd find your soul and keep ya from bein' alone if someone cared enough to put your things in the box. You live on 'cause there's people out there lookin' out for you, even if you're just a ghost.

Cherri tells it a lot a better.

The sting wears off a little at a time, but it always hurts when it happens again.

[Dr. Death is a hell of a name.]

So that's why you cared so much about recognizing the dead. I think there's a lot of sense in that story.

Can't tell if it's worse to have it happen all spaced out like this or if it was better when it was all at once.

[DJ Dr. Death Defying. The man knew how to take a title.]

Cherri always thought it's what we were supposed to do. If you were lucky to stay alive, then there's duty to the people that didn't.

[If there's anything that could convince him that this little girl is brilliant and "gets it", it's this conversation right here. To other people, it might be tragic. But to him, it says she has more respect for her comrades than half the people he knows.]

You're absolutely right. You know some smart people.

He used to be a real smart man.

[Still is, but she doesn't feel like being charitable to Cherri even among those who wouldn't know better. Her's was a grudge held bone deep.]

But anybody who lived out in the Zones knew it. Nobody was ever gonna care 'bout what happened to our people 'cept for us. So we gotta keep each other's memory.

A long time ago, I lived on a base with a bunch of other soldiers. It was a home for us, and we were like a family. Something happened and I lost most of them. Lost my best friend, too. [In a very complicated, strange to explain way.]

I lost a friend on the ship, and one in the crash. I've always done my best to remember them.

Hopefully your friend just went home and he'll be okay.

'm sorry. Ain't nothin' worse in the whole world then losin' family. Nobody should hae to deal with that, losin' a bunch at once.

You keep thinkin' 'bout them and you're doin' the right thing. 'cept I know that all that thinkin' just makes it a lot harder.

Kobra's not going to be okay. He's dead. Before I came here, I saw him die. I saw all of 'em die. [And, as far as she was concerned, it was all her fault. No matter how many times Kobra had tried to convince her otherwise.] Being here was his only chance.

I'm sorry about that.

[Unfortunately he never knew that Kobra and Bucky were ever close. If he had, he might have mentioned that. That at least he did live a little while he was around.]

But it's true. It never gets easier. I never guessed I was remembering them properly if it did.

Thanks.

Back home, because of the box, we'd write letters to people we missed. Send 'em pictures, tell 'em things we didn't get to say when they were 'round. Some people would even leave a candle lit. It's supposed to help. [She'd only ever done so for her mother and she was never sure how it made her feel to write to a woman she never knew.] Ain't sayin' it'd make it any easier, but some people reckoned it makes the dead feel better. You could do that, if you wanted to.

I still have some paper if you want to try it.

I remember the art you did on the ship.

I kept the pictures of it. I even have them despite our old communications devices being gone. [He'd told her he'd print them out.]

We don't have the boxes here. [She pauses, it's a paltry excuse.] I know I should. For all of 'em.

[She just doesn't know how to properly apologize for what she felt was her role in what happened]

You did? Thanks. [He said he would, but she always half expects people to let her down. It's good to be wrong.] I should do another. Plenty of buildings 'round here.

They probably wouldn't like that very much. A lot of the buildings probably have their own owners.

Unless you can get someone to pay you to paint. That's a possibility, too. You're pretty good, you could make a decent amount of money for it.

I could always paint my own place up.

[Her tent was rather boring anyway.]

Gettin' paid to paint? Sounds a lil' too good to be true. And I'd bet nobody would be payin' me to paint what I wanted to.

Perhaps not. But if you find yourself willing to take commissions, I think you could do pretty good.

I'm thinking of opening a diner. I could give you a job there. It wouldn't be interesting, but it would be pay.

Mm. Maybe.

Diner? A for real one? [Obviously he wouldn't offer otherwise, but it takes her off guard. Diner would always first and foremost make her think of home.] Doing what? I don't really know how to cook.

Sweeping or something small. Something easy.

[Which isn't really teaching her a trade like he usually believes in, but she's already very creative and it seems like giving her time to think would be good for her.]

I could handle that. I mean, I never did a lot of cleanin', but I can work pretty hard when I wanna.

I wouldn't ask too much work of you, so you wouldn't have to worry about that.

[He doesn't expect other children to have the work ethic he had as a child. If anything, he would hope that they wouldn't have.]

You don't have to go easy on me. I don't mind helpin' you out. Like you better than anyone else I'd have to work for.

I'll take that as a compliment.

Alright then. I'll give you the address. Hopefully you're not too far away.

It is one.

Thanks. Close enough for me.

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