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[tearsinajar]

I feel like, with everything that's going on, I've lost track of time.

I mean, we've been on a ship for so long, we've gone on a few planet trips, and then there was that whole— [ Elena waves a hand, dismissive. Only because that's a difficult one to process. ] —year thing. Or at least I think it was a year.

Not only that but we've gone and swapped out captains, most of us have survived a ship crash landing or two, and Lord knows what else.

But in all of that— and yes, there's a point to this— how are you supposed to celebrate a birthday when you've barely had any time to sit down and process everything? When you sit down and keep asking yourself, "What day is it?" or "What month are we at?" or better yet— "How old am I again?"

[ Like the song What's my age again? ]

I really doubt this place has a bar with decent male strippers.

[ A tiny pause. She makes a face. Oh god. ]

...what if they're alien male strippers? What am I supposed to do with that?

Comments

[tearsinajar]

I'd believe that. Maybe it's deserved, maybe it's undeserved.

[inconsequence]

Most certainly deserved. Or the fault of those who are.

[tearsinajar]

And yours?

[inconsequence]

What do you think?

[tearsinajar]

I don't know.
You tell me.

[inconsequence]

I attempted to rekindle an ages-old war between humans and monsters. In doing so, I served as the catalyst for a destroyed marriage, a divided kingdom, and the death of many who, certainly, did not deserve to die, yet had to bear the sins of my choices. Had my plan succeeded, I would have exacted a mass-scale genocide on all of humanity, and razed every last member of that miserable species to the ground. Turned each and every one of them to dust. In some timelines, I did exactly that, and watched the world turn into a pointless, empty void.



So again. I ask.



What do you think?