Ximilia Contact

[bossily]

// stargirl

TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO

XIMILIA

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[bossily]

what?

of course not

your beautiful face is all I need to gawk at

though now curiosity demands that I know which handsome men you're keeping in your bedroom

[peasant]

hmmm. you must've gotten trapped looking at your reflection and now you've mistaken it for mine.

oh, loads. i have a stable of them, you know, available at my command. (funny joke, i know.)
it's definitely not the doctor. i don't think he can paint in straight lines.
his name is rhysand. pointy ears? he makes his existence too hard to overlook.

[bossily]

and he's agreed to be all ours for the night, has he? You must have done something incredible to convince him

[peasant]

i can be very convincing when i want to be 😇

[ — bossy is likely the correct word for it. ]

i think he likes to feel useful, actually.
and he does more primping on himself than i've ever seen in my life, so ...
his expertise is more trustworthy than mine. never let an artist paint your nails or you'll be trapped forever.

[bossily]

of course

but when are we gonna get to the part where you tell me why he bothers wanting to make himself useful for you specifically

[she's here for the gossip don't let her down]

that's a yes, by the way. I'll pop by as soon as I'm finished with my gardening

[peasant]

maybe when you try to bribe me for answers.
you're supposed to be bad cop, remember? where's my interrogation?

[ did she consult unassuming orbers to discover what a cop even is, to avoid looking foolish in front of clara? yes, unfortunately. ]

how is that going, by the way?
anything to harvest yet?

[bossily]

if you want an interrogation, I'll give you an interrogation

[she really didn't mean for that to sound like a threat okay]

I'll even bring along some of the fruit we've managed to grow over the past few months as part of the bribe

[peasant]

miss clara oswald, brutal inquisitor and gardenkeeper.
that would be intimidating if you didn't need a stool to stare me down.

[ alina, you're barely taller. ]

you must really be after my secrets, bribing me with sweet things.
i don't suppose you've been growing any flowers, lately.

[bossily]

are you suggesting I bring you flowers too?

[peasant]

well, i'm not not suggesting it. it's perfect blackmail material for yours truly.
you've got to charm me properly to get my secrets.

mostly i was wondering if you had space to grow any.

[bossily]

You know, I like to think that Leonard is the most level headed and responsible person here on the station. And I'm sure most people would assume my head's always up in the clouds and lost in the stars. But I've been preparing for the supply drops to eventually stop, so we've made plenty of room for growing all sorts of things.

Pretty flowers for pretty girls included.

why? what are you wanting to grow?

[peasant]

[ flatterer. still — alina doesn't twist it back toward clara, this time, even as pink pools in her cheeks. ]

irises. the blue kind.
there's a meadow filled with nothing but blue irises where i grew up.
it used to be my safe place. not even our headmistress could find me there. and trust me — she tried her best.

i know it's a little silly to grow flowers when it could be used for rationing.
but i think it would be nice to have a flower garden. a real one, not the illusions in the sunlight room.

[bossily]

Then we'll have to find a way to obtain seeds. Viveca might be the best chance of getting them.

[It's a nice thought, to have real plant life here. It's exactly why she originally started trying this garden idea. And if it hadn't been for Bucky and the Doctors, she never would've gotten it up and going.

But she's determined now to get Alina her irises. They're something that makes her happy, and it's something simple she can provide.]

[peasant]

as long as she doesn't ask for a body part in exchange.
on second thought, maybe i could spare my little toe. one less nail to paint.

what about clara oswald? no favorite flowers?
if we're going to try to grow mine, we should grow yours too.
it could be our garden.

[bossily]

oh, but then you'd have to spend time with me every day. tending to the garden and making sure it's all in order. Are you sure you have it in you?

Lilies, by the way. Yellow and the ones that are white with pink in the middle. They're my favorite.

But I absolutely insist we include pink roses too.

[peasant]

you say that like it's a punishment.

[ for all that alina volleys that teasing back, playful, something in clara's comment is — nostalgic. a reminder of the same tactics she's used, that she's witnessed from rhys. dressing up their insecurities in prettier wrapping, until they're easier to accept. more tolerable for the hands they're passed into, as though the ugliness of exposing them might drive someone away.

it's not difficult for alina to make the instinctive decision to be painfully, boldly honest to chase away any uncertainty sinking its claws into clara's chest. ]

spending time with one of my favorite people every day could never be a chore.
i think you'll be the one getting sick of me after awhile.

lilies and pink roses. i'll make a list, queen clara.
is there a reason for those choices, or is it just because they're pretty to look at?

[bossily]

[Ah, there's a question she wasn't expecting. It's one that would be easy to lie in response. She could say anything and it would be a suitable answer.]

My mum used to grow pink roses in our garden when I was a little girl. After she died, I tried keeping up with them, but they seemed to die along with her. So I thought that maybe it'd be nice to have a second go and see if I couldn't do better this time around.

Lilies though. The yellow ones remind me of the stars. That, and they were on a mural I saw recently. One of those tragic memorial sort of things. It was sad, but they were absolutely beautiful.

[so much for lying]

[peasant]

[ sorry, she wants to blurt, battering at the front of her mind and begging to be set free. she imprisons it, instead — presses it back into a dark corner, abandoned. if she were in clara's shoes, she wouldn't want her own raw vulnerability brought under the light, grated by any sign of pity. ]

you have me now. double the love should keep your flowers alive.

[ and the memory of clara's mother, along with it. ]

it's a little sad, isn't it? how tragic things tend to be the most beautiful.

[bossily]

It takes a certain perspective to be able to see things that way. I wasn't able to until recently.

[But she's found a way to see most tragic things as beautiful since dying. It's funny how that happens, she thinks. It's sad that Alina already sees things that way. She's far too young to have to.]

[peasant]

it helps that i come from a permanently morbid country.
we aren't ravkans if we aren't writing grim poetry about martyrs and war.

i like tragic flowers much better than any of that.
they might be sad, but they were grown out of a memory of love. what's more beautiful than that?

[bossily]

What if the flowers were from your own memorial? Would they be more tragic or beautiful then?

[peasant]

i don't think there would be flowers for my memorial.
ravka sells the bones of their saints as good luck charms. we're all objects to them.

[ morbid, indeed, but she knows that isn't what clara is getting at. alina lapses into thoughtful silence, despite the dread suddenly churning whirlpools in her stomach. ]

honestly? i'm not sure i know how to answer that.
beautiful that your memory touched someone enough to live on in someone's heart.
tragic that you would have to leave behind the life you wished for, and the people who will mourn you.
but i suppose it's hopeful, too. that life can grow from death.

[bossily]

And that is exactly why you have to let me take you away one day. Ravka doesn't take care of things that shine the brightest. Things that shouldn't ever have their light burnt out.

[The idea of anyone trying to sell Alina's bones once she's dead and gone is horrifying. She won't stand for it, even in this conversation of hypotheticals.

She's so focused on saving Alina that she doesn't even bother addressing that second part that is relevant to herself.]

[peasant]

no, they don't. my country has never loved me, even when i begged it to.
maybe ravka as a nation doesn't care for me, but its people deserve someone to save them.
not for its rulers, or men with power, but for children who have to come into this world already knowing loss.
for the citizens and soldiers ravka passes over and forgets.

[bossily]

[And there it is, her big responsibility. Left out in the open, where Clara can do nothing but stare at those words for several minutes before responding.]

What are you expected to save them from?