Stars and the Stratosphere (BruisedLavender and Dr

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Everything--from the moment that Gabriel stepped out into the hallway and faced Aaron Stanley's cruel sneer, to the moment he found himself back in the overly-warm security of his dorm room--was a blur.

It was curious, how rage could colour your vision and crowd your mind, to the point where you weren't even sure of who you are, let alone what you've done. His head hurt, his body ached, and his muscles stung. He could taste blood in his mouth, and realized that at some point during his scuffle, he must have bitten the inner wall of his cheek. The inside of his mouth was not the only thing bleeding, either; there were trace amounts of blood on the front of his shirt from a swollen cut on his lip, and his knuckles were raw and stung with the fresh burn of recently broken skin.
Quite the new record for someone who's fighting repertoire had, to that point, extended to no more than a shouting match between himself and his twin sister when they were fourteen years old.

"I'm... I don't know what happened," he murmured, pressing his fingertips to one of his temples. With the adrenaline rush beginning to fade, he saw pinpricks of starlight in the darkness before his eyes, sprinkled across Lilian's face like poor reception on a screen. "I couldn't sleep... So I went for a walk, and he was just... there, and I guess I... I couldn't handle any more of his remarks. I lost it on him..."

Swallowing hard, he moved his hand from his temple to his lip and winced at the shock of pain and dab of blood that came away on his fingertip. "Listen, you don't have to... I mean, this was my fault. Maybe I deserve a few bruises." It perplexed him, the care that his roommate took in applying the ointment, and sent a pang of distant nostalgia through his heart. The last time someone had tended to his injuries or sickbed was when he'd broken his collarbone, just prior to the voyage of the Hestia--the vessel now lost in space, that had taken his sister with it. She'd spent just as much time with him in the hospital as she had training to fill herself in on the position that he should have taken on that ship.
That had only been a year ago. The scar across his clavicle from the laser surgery that had mended his fracture still felt fresh; if he lifted his shoulders too quickly, his past injury still hurt, anew, just as it had when it was newly healed. It was as though no time had passed at all.

"Look, if he says anything... Aaron, I mean... I'll tell the higher-ups you weren't involved." Gabe met Lilian's eyes with apology and resolve. "It wasn't your fight. Hell, it shouldn't have been a fight at all, and I shouldn't have lost my cool. I'll take full responsibility for everything that happened..." And probably get kicked right off of this ship. Bassett wouldn't hesitate to give him the boot, at the slightest possibility that he was still emotionally unstable as a result from his sister's disappearance and probable death. They'd send him back home, to Earth, at their fir opportunity, him and what few possessions he'd brought in a return shuttle. He'd be relieved from the EIA permanently, with no severance; he would never see another ship, or outer space ever again.
He only had himself to blame.

Lifting a single shoulder in a shrug, he dabbed at his busted lip again, significantly less blood coming away on the pads of his fingers this time. "Um... but, hey. For whatever it's worth, Lilian... thanks." He breathed his gratitude so quietly, it was hardly more than a whisper. "Listen, though; don't get Aaron on your bad side. He's an asshole, and he'll stop at nothing to make your life miserable if he decides he doesn't like you, for whatever reason. Look at me as an example." The smile he flashed in the low glow of the dorm lights was wan and humourless. "Sorry you had to see all that and intervene, at all... This really isn't the best way to make a first impression, huh."
 
Gabriel looked lost. There was something inexplicably vulnerable about a man with so much confusion in his eyes and so much pain in his murmurs, and somehow it reminded Lilian of soldiers left on battle sides with only enough life left in them to witness the coming of their deaths. It seemed like a strange comparison to make, probably irrelevant, perhaps even out of place, but Lilian couldn't help the pang of familiarity that struck him. Something was dying in this boy's eyes - it wasn't dead, not yet, but it seemed ready to extinguish itself at any moment.

One thing that is learnt growing up in the courtyard of a full-fleged warfare; letting someone die is not an option.

He tried to make his body language as reassuring as possible as he cleaned and disinfected Gabriel's bleeding temple before applying a small band-aid on the wound. Though it wasn't much, hopefully this would help it scar overnight. Something however made him tick - the fact that the young man insisted on saying that this was "his fault" - when it clearly wasn't. That idiot had been looking for a fight all day - was Gabriel really to be blamed for giving in, when the jerk had gone to the extent of meeting him in front of his dorm room?

"This wasn't your fault, Gabriel. None of this," Lilian assured, his eyes as unyielding as when he'd assured his father the same thing, years from now. He didn't know what exactly he meant by "this" - their stupid little fight or something more - but not an ounce of him doubted of the truth of his statement in any case.
Putting the objects back at their place in the case, he crossed his legs to be more comfortable, then continued: "He won't say anything. He'd be risking too much. Plus," he added with a smile, "I'm a neutral witness in this whole affair. And I know he's the one that's been looking for a fight all day long. Though he could probably bribe me with chocolate. In which case I'm not sure how reliable my testimony would be."

He laughed at his own joke quietly, then dismissed Gabriel's thanks in a softer smile. He didn't feel threatened at all about Aaron's potential bullying - perhaps against his better judgement - but still felt grateful that the other man worried about it. Bits and pieces of words and actions that shaped him into what looked like a kind-hearted person. "Nah. Your first impression is fine," Lilian assured with a grin. "Being on a dumb asshole's bad side is a pretty good sign in my book. I'd be more worried if you were best pals."
 
He couldn't determine what was more surreal: the surplus of kindness that this young man who was little more than a stranger chose to show him at such a vulnerable turn of events, or the fact that he was privy to this kindness at all. In only twenty-four hours, Gabriel had successfully come undone in front of his roommate and previous harrasser. All of that careful, collected calm that he had shown to Bassett prior to his deployment on this mission had shattered with just enough pressure to his sore spots, all of which Aaron had detected immediately. Anyone else who might have witnessed the scuffle likely wouldn't pass the night with shut eyes if they happened to share a room with him, and with any good sense, they would report him to the Commander the next morning.

Lilian, as it seemed, was not just anyone. He was the saving grace that Gabe, frankly, did not deserve.

"Thanks." The word seemed far more trivial than usual, given how his robotically-inclined roommate had both chased off the asshole who had incited this break-down, and then tended to the superficial injuries he had attained in the fight that could have gone down much, much worse, were it not for Lilian's interference. He deserved more than 'thanks'; unfortunately, Gabriel was at a loss as to anything else he could offer, aside from his mere gratitude, for the moment. "I appreciate... well, just, everything."

Standing up from his deflated position on the bunk, Gabriel tugged at the fabric of his shirt and frowned at the droplets of blood that marred the slate-grey uniform. If Bassett found out about the tiff, Lilian could say what he wanted in his defense, but evidence spoke the loudest. "I should probably deal with this before it condemns me... You don't happen to have any pro tips on removing blood from whatever the hell these uniforms are crafted from, do you?" With a wry smile, he palmed the button that activated the door of their tiny, shared bathroom, and spent the next handful of minutes scrubbing with soap, hot and cold water. Not long after, he re-emerged, the damp garment slung over his arm, and a notably defeated slump to his bare shoulders.

"I guess, if anyone asks... say I smacked my head on the edge of the bunk in some sleep-induced daze?" He couldn't help but chuckle, and tossed the almost-stain-free garment aside to dry until morning. "Anyway... we should probably get what's left of some shut-eye. Sorry you had to wake up to this."
 
Lilian passed a hand through his hair coyly, looking away. He had never been talented at accepting 'thank you's; for anything. Here was no exception — while he felt as though he clearly did not deserve so much, he did not want to be rude or dismiss Gabriel's gratitude off-handedly.
"Ah well, uh..." he stammered awkwardly, a crooked smile on his lips. "You're welcome. It's fine."

He let out small laugh at the other man's question. "Nope, sorry," he apologized. He knew how to patch up skin and metal, but cleaning blood off carbon fiber was another story altogether. "Oil stains, on the other hand..." he offered jokingly. He couldn't even remember how many times he'd stained his uniform when cleaning leftovers dripped during the night. It wasn't exactly handy — no pun intended — but Lilian had gradually grown used to it. It was infinitely better than a squeaking arm, at any rate.

As he heard faint sounds of cleaning from the bathroom, Lilian began to realize how tired he was, and a large yawn escaped him as he stretched for a bit. When Gabriel came out of the shower, he was... Shirtless, again, and while Lilian refrained from making the slightest comment, a blush was already creeping up his cheeks, and down his neck. (And he had to admit that the reasons were not only due to his cultural background. Surely he'd get used to it soon enough but — damn.)

The idea of going to bed, though, definitely picked up his interest and brought him back to reality. "Yeah, let's sleep," he agreed with another yawn. "Don't worry about the uniform, we'll find a way to sneak in the launderette and get it washed during the morning break. And. Don't be sorry, ok? Like I said. This wasn't your fault."
He didn't know if Gabriel would believe him, but he really did mean it. He knew perfectly well that the man hadn't asked for any of this, so why should he feel guilty about the loss of his beauty sleep? On those thoughts, he got up to his bunk of the bed, and with a second "good night", very quickly fell back asleep for the few hours they had left.
 
For what little time he had left to sleep, Gabriel's slumber was not void of dreams, for as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw her.

She was exactly as he remembered her the last time he'd seen her. Red curls, unruly as usual, tucked behind her ears and shoulders, azure eyes glimmering with the everpresent mischief in her smile. It had been over a year since he had last seen that smile, and yet the passage of time suddenly meant nothing. It was as if she had always been there; like she had never gone missing. "Gail." The young man breathed his sister's name, his stomach turning in a mixture of bafflement and elation. She looked the feminine image of himself, dressed in exactly the same gunmetal and pale blue uniform, holding a datapad in her hands. How had she gotten here? How long had he been standing there, simply not seeing her? "You... how are you here? You disappeared..."

She didn't look up, immersed in the task that required the datapad. After a pregnant pause, she replied with a cryptic: "You know when you're trying to think of a word, one that you've used before, but it just kind of... evades you? Until you stop thinking about it, and then it comes to your hours later, after the fact?"

"Uh... well, yeah." Gabe wrinkled his nose. "What does that have to do with anything? Gail, I need answers..."

"Well... people can be like that too, you know," came Abigail's equally cryptic explanation. "They might not be there when you're looking for them. But stop looking, and... well, sometimes, they show up, just out of the blue. You never know." With a conspiratorial wink, she turned the datapad around for her brother to see. Across the screen, strange symbols had been drawn, none which Gabriel recognized at all. He opened his mouth to make further inquiries, but the scene changed, flicking off like a screen...

...and when he blinked, he was staring at the front of his bunk, laying horizontal. while Lilian was already up and dressed. Of course it had been a stupid dream... His own subconscious mind wouldn't even permit him a moment of real rest. Not yet. "Shit," he hissed, leaping out of bed and wincing at the sharp pain that assaulted his head, likely related to the brawl he'd started the night before. "What time is it? Did I oversleep? Goddamn, as if I don't have enough going against me..." Scrambling to grab the top to his uniform, he pulled it over his head, flashing his roommate an apologetic look in the interim. "Despite the evidence playing against me thus far... I promise you I am not usually this much of a scatterbrain."
 
Lilian rose from a thick, dreamless sleep to the sound of the common alarm. He'd expected it, as there was a similar one back in the terrestrial base, but that one was surprisingly less irritating. It was loud of course, but only made of a light, elevator-like music along with an announcement the date, the time, and an electronic voice bidding the crew good morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his human fingers, and hopped down from the bunk.

"Good morning," he wished Gabriel, only to realize when he turned around that his roommate was still sleeping. He was torn between waking him up and leaving him be — but as the events of last nights flowed back to Lilian's memory, he settled on the latter, for now. He was probably exhausted, and a few minutes more would do him no harm. Everything that happened yesterday still seemed more like the part of a foggy dream than an actual reality, but the slightly stained uniform, now dried up, was proof enough that it had not been a dream. As strange as that was.

He was deep in thoughts as he took a quick shower, got dressed, washed his teeth and his face. Thinking of Stan, of Gabriel, of his lost sister, of Aaron, of Sophie and his father waiting for him back home. Of what was to come from now on. That too did not feel real — he'd had months to accustom himself to the fact, but the idea that they were going in the depths of outerspace, and that he'd be a part of the trip was all still too many kinds of unbelievable.


Back from the bathroom he saw that Gabriel was still sleeping, despite the second alarm having rung already. Worried, he walked towards him, stirring him softly as he whispered: "Hey... Gabriel. Wake up. You're gonna be late."
It was to no effect, however, and Lilian was too shy to permit himself more roughness with someone who was still a stranger in so many ways. He was already thinking of what he'd say to commanding officer to justify him staying in bed — a sick leave would probably do, if he was convincing enough. It was quite a dangerous bargain if Gabriel woke up and told a different tale, though. Maybe he could leave a note? But what if an officer found it?

To his relief, those thoughts were put to an end when Gabriel finally opened his eyes. "Ah, awesome. I was getting worried," Lilian admitted with a smile. "I'm a terrible liar so telling officer Bassett you got sick would've been a ride." Then, answering his question as he watched him hurry with a mix of pity and amusement, he added, answering his questions: "It's 5:37, and yeah, you missed the two alarms. He laughed brightly at the last remark. "It could be worse. You could be boring," he told him with a grin. "Shall we go?" he asked when his roommate was ready, remembering the man had taken his shower before bed. They weren't exactly late yet, thankfully, but Lilian couldn't deny feeling a little peckish.
 
"Two alarms... seriously?" Gabriel shook his head and dug his fingers into the back of his neck, wondering just what he had done to have karma kick him so hard on his very first mission for the EIA. It would be his last, if things continued to this trajectory. "Last night... threw me off more than I'd thought. It can't--no, it won't happen again, that I can guarantee. You've already been more of a friend to me than I probably deserve; I won't put you in a situation where sticking up for me might be your ticket back to earth." That's a promise you just made, Casella, he thought to himself, taking a moment to allow his own words to sink into his foggy brain. There's no going back on that; you can't expect him to pull you out of hot water twice.
After all, there was no possible chance that he would ever be roomed with anyone else quite so understanding as Lilian.

Well, at least he hadn't missed breakfast, although there wasn't likely to be much of a selection left over. If God or any other merciful deity truly did exist in the great beyond, however, surely there would be coffee. "Yeah. Just give me a second--promise I'll be quick," he told Lilian as he disappeared into the bathroom, realizing only when he found himself standing in front of the mirror that his roommate was willing to deal with hunger pangs for a few minutes more, so that he did not have to leave and eat alone (and possibly run into Aaron...). With this in mind, he was quick to splash water on his face and hide the bandage on his temple as best he could with he locks of copper curls that hung near his forehead, before determining he was about as presentable as he was realistically going to be that day.

"Here's hoping the early risers left some suitable scraps for us," he commented with a lopsided grin after joining Lilian again, exiting their room into the corridor and following the current of the rest of the Athena's crew to the mess hall. At least he had that going for him: in a sea of people all dressed exactly the same, there wasn't much that made him stand out, even with a bandage and a few bruises. So long as nobody veered too close and spotted the faint blood stains along his collar, that is.

Just as many people were rising and preparing to start their days early, as those just sitting down to breakfast when the two arrived at the enormous mess hall. This left many tables being vacated at once, and just as quickly, they were occupied again. For fear that they would end up sitting with some of the more unsavoury of their peers, Gabriel indicated a table in a far corner that was, as things stood, vacant. "Let's tag-team this endeavor: Why don't you go grab that seat before someone else snags it, and I go and get us some of whatever is left over of the good stuff?"

When Lilian nodded his agreement, Gabe assumed a place in the long line-up at the buffet-style breakfast station. Unoccupied with any other task but waiting, for the moment, it was inevitable that his mind began to drift, and he recalled the blurry details of his unsettling dream. What did you meal, Gail? Could any of it... could it really mean something?

"Hey--are you going to move, or what?"

"Huh? Oh--yeah. Of course. Sorry." How long had he been standing at the front of the line, completely immobile, he wondered as his face turned a few shades of red. He pretended not to hear someone a few people down mutter, "Talk about being a real space cadet," as he grabbed a couple of plates and mugs for himself and Lilian, and pushed the dream from his mind--for now.
 
The praise made Lilian blush a little bit, as he scratched his cheek coyly. It felt vastly undeserved. Wasn't it normal to be friendly with a new roommate? They would have to share vital space together — setting off on a wrong foot would have been the worst approach possible. In general, Lilian was quite indulgent and trusting with strangers, in what some might call a naive, or even reckless behavior. It might have come from growing up in a small village ravaged by war — there had been a true feeling of brotherhood and mutual compassion in his hometown. People in greatest need tended to be the most generous, ironically enough. That spirit had left marks of both altruism, and credulity. Still, while usually warm and friendly on a first approach, Lilian had his dark sides, ones that awoken later on, when people proved to be unworthy of his trust. It could become an icy anger which took over him, and he had a way of clinging to resentments. There was also somewhere down there other shameful things, placed by the war or born from within. Either he way, he kept those hidden deep, and it took a lot to rise them to the surface.

But yes — the reason why he'd helped Gabriel was both by commodity, by his nature, by an affinity that intrigued him, and, on top of that, he couldn't deny that Gabriel's story had risen a profound empathy within him. What had happened to his sister was the kind of tragedy he'd known... yet so fundamentally different from anything he'd ever experienced. It certainly had made him take his side almost instantaneously. Not that he'd ever tell him that, of course.


The idea of getting in trouble and going back to Earth was dreadful, having worked so hard to pursue his ambition, but Lilian doubted it would come to that. He trusted (naively, once again) the officers and his own stellar record of good behavior to play in his favor should problems rise. And if not... Well, he certainly wasn't going to go back to Earth. He'd make sure of that, either by playing fair, or by playing well. Either way, he deserved his place and wasn't going to lose because he'd chosen to do what he felt was right.

Gabriel was quick to dress, and though Lilian couldn't say he was very hungry, he was definitely thankful for it.
"If not, we'll beg the kitchen people very sweetly for some of their succulent food," Lilian answered the man's comment with a grin. "On our knees and all."

They were quick to arrive to the hall, and seeing the whole crew (or at least, a large part of it) was beyond impressive. Going to space was such a rare privilege that Lilian often forgot how many people had been summoned for this mission. He nodded at Gabriel's suggestion, noting that he had a leading tone that suit him well, one he may not even have noticed himself. Thus, as the man went to take their food, Lilian scanned the room in search of a spot. It seemed that Stan had already left, much to his disappointment, and the group he'd sat with yesterday was seated at a table a bit too crowded for his taste. He chose instead a small spot that left four of five rows of free space before the next group. It was perfect if Gabriel wanted to bring a friend along, too. That made him wonder what kind of friends the cadet would have... He hadn't spotted any in the EIA so far, which obviously did not mean anything considering how elitist the mission was (he himself only had Stan), but did leave him curious. With these interrogations in mind, when Gabriel sat down at their table with their trays, he thanked him, then asked: "Do you have any friends who made it on the ship?"
 
"Friends?" It was such a simple and innocent question, and yet the young cadet was completely taken aback by his roomate's inquiry. Hand gripping the handle of his coffee mugm Gabriel stared into the depths of the black beverage as if were the truth staring right back at him. It wasn't something that he had considerd, because up until now, he'd never had reason to consider it; not when Gail had been around. It hadn't occurred to him that when he had stepped onto this ship, he was more alone than he had thought. Without a sister and, pathetically, without a friend.

But he would not divulge as much to Lilian. Not because he questioned his trust in the young man with the robotic arm, but because Lilian likely already pitied him more than he preferred. He had a healthy enough sense of pride not to come across as any more pathetic than what he already did. So in reply, he took a sip of his scalding coffee and shrugged one shoulder. "I recognize a few people here and there, from the academy where my sister and I were trained and educated. Some of them are alright... others, not so much. Like Aaron, for example." The corner of his mouth turned upward in a humourless grin. "I'll be honest, I've never really been outgoing enough to actively seek out companionship. I always had my sister around, so I didn't really feel like I needed it. And lord knows, Gail was outgoing enough for the both of us." Her friends had always been his friends... at least, until she had been taken out of the picture. Then, one by one, they had begun to withdraw from him... but not before he had withdrawn from them.

Again, a tiny fact that Lilian did not need to know. Not when it was, perhaps, already obvious.

"What about you? You seem to know a few people, here." He turned the question over to his roommate when he felt it was time to take the attention off of himself. "Do you know them from your schooling or training, as well? A lot of the crew are from EIA academies, but there are still so many other people here from different walks of life. It makes me curious about how they all got recruited. Your skills must be extremely valuable; i know they don't take people they don't really need on missions like this."

He didn't mean to pry too far into Lilian's credetials or his reasons for being here, and certainly was not implying that he was less than worthy to be there just because he didn't have the same training as other cadets. And on an aside, he figured he should probably make that clear, lest his roommate think otherwise. "I mean... what I'm trying to say is, you must be one of a kind with skills of your calibre to be here. Hell, there are a number of people who can do what I can do, and maybe even better than me. I probably wouldn't be here if I hadn't practically groveled at Bassett' feet." Something he was rather ashamed to admit, but he didn't mind humbling himself, just a little, to Lilian. "But... hey, that's just between you and me, right?" He added with a coy wink. "Otherwise it'll give Aaron more fodder to get on my ass about. The less he knows, the better."
 
A swirl of empathy washed over Lilian when Gabriel mentioned his sister. He wasn't quite sure what to say, and since he didn't think the man thought him to know what tragedy his sibling had been a part of, wasn't sure he was expected to say anything, either. It was hard to imagine the kind of bond that must have linked a brother and a sister so close in ages, who had shared rooms and friends alike. His own sister was still a baby in his eyes, for whom he cared more than anything in the world, but it was different. He couldn't imagine the bond, though he could imagine the pain. When he had lost his mother, he had found that the most painful wasn't the absence in itself, nor that he wouldn't ever listen to the soft sound of her voice ever again, but the gaping emptiness that took possession of every parts of his life he had shared with her. Taking care of wounded soldiers, repairing the few electronical objects they posessed, going to church. All these activities tore him from the inside when he did them without her, the sickening void where she should have been leaving him in a kind of torment words could scarcely describe. So to lose a being with whom one had shared everything, even friends... The mere thought pained him.

He was stirred from his train of thoughts when Gabriel spoke again. He was about to answer the casual question, but the man went on talking, and the flattery that followed, doubled with what he judged to be pure fake modesty, made him ill at ease instantaneously. It wasn't the first time Gabriel had complimented him today, or even yesterday — and while Lilian was of a naive nature, that kind of undeserved flattery was starting to make him suspicious. He hadn't been raised in compliments, and in his eyes, being said to have "extremely valuable" skills, or being "one of a kind" were words that needed to be earned.

Everyone on this ship was valuable, Lilian and Gabriel both knew that, so what was the point to assume he was better than any of them? It wasn't true, for one, and for someone who worked in the niche area of foreign data interpretation, a post as elitist as could be, to say that anybody could do his job just as well or better felt hypocritical. Was he looking for a praise? Or did he want to win Lilian's favors for something? Was it still about the fight yesterday, did he feel like he needed to flatter him to make sure he wouldn't tell the officers? Or was it that he had made out where Lilian was from, and, as so many rich country kids had before, felt guilty and needed to overcompensate? In any case, Lilian didn't like the way this conversation was going one bit, and was eager to put an end to that flattery game.

"I'm sure if there were a lot of people who could do what you can do, and better, then you wouldn't be here," he said, not unkindly, but in a firm tone that was less warm than before. "It's as you said," he went on as he drank his coffee. "Everyone here is needed. Doesn't matter if you had to convince someone that you are. You're here now, that's proof enough." He stopped talking for a moment, as he thought of the question he'd been asked and ate a bite of his breakfast. "As for who I know..." he said with a laugh. "Well, no one from schooling, that's for sure. I come from Yserebrune. Small town, too."

Lilian knew only too well what saying that automatically associated him with. Poverty, war, child labor, a failed state led by a corrupt government... Yserebrune was one of the few countries left on Earth that were still deeply engrained by such ills. He tried not to tell where he was from as much as possible, not out of shame, but out of commodity, though his hair and skin color were unmistakably typical of his people for anyone who knew them a bit, and when asked so directly, there was only so much he could hide.

"Some people from the National University made it to the EIA like me... I wouldn't call them 'friends', though," he continued. Truth be told, he hated them. Six rich bastards brought up in golden prisons, who pissed on their country and culture. "But they're not part of this mission. So I only know people from the Alliance. Stan, whom you saw yesterday, is the only actual friend that made it. I do recognize some faces and probably could talk to a few, though." And a lot more would probably recognize me, he thought grimly. His arm and ethnicity made for a show, and quite a bit of gossip. He'd learnt to ignore it, but it could get annoying every now and then.
 
"Yserebrune?" Gabe hoped that it had not come across as a surprise, although for whatever reason, he had not considered that his roommate would have hailed from such a place as that country: impoverished, war-torn... Not exactly the ideal grounds for someone who intended to join the EIA later in life. Of course, he also did not imagine that people born and raised there had much of a choice as to the circumstances of her life, but it rather astounded him. Lilian was so well-spoken, so kind, so achieved, and perhaps that had been why Yserebrune had not crossed his mind, despite the young man's complexion and hair colour. Perhaps it was to Lilian's relief, as he could not imagine it was a topic he enjoyed discussing--though that was presumptuous, on his part, and he had no business assuming anything at all.
Ultimately, he thought it safest not to say anything else at all, and instead returned to his previous question.

It was best, it seemed, to keep the conversation to small-talk. "Well, even if you only have one friend aboard on this mission, I'd say you are fairly lucky. Especially in that you needn't associate yourself with rich university blowhards." Neither he nor Abigail had been required to pay for their education following public schooling, but that was the way the academies run by the Alliance worked: you did not compete to pay for the spots, you simply competed to have a spot, and the rest worked itself out. Both he and his sister had worked tirelessly, both alone and together, to ensure that their chances at admission had been equal. Underneath all of the bravado, their sibling rivalry had always been for show, and Gabriel would have been devastated had he been accepted while his sister had not. He knew that Gail would have felt the very same way. "I suppose thought I had made a few friends at the Academy, early on. But I guess it turns out they were just Gail's friends, and... people change. Lose interest. I'd be surprised if any of them who did make it aboard even remember who I am." That is, aside from being the guy who lost his sister to the merciless depths of outer space. That fact had practically become his new identity among his peers, which had only caused him to withdraw even more. "Too bad Aaron didn't happen to have forgotten."

And it was for that very withdrawn nature that he was certain he was butchering his attempt to even befriend Lilian. His admiration of his roommate was, in fact, genuine, and even moreso knowing the hardships that he must have endured to make it this far. But his constant acknowledgement of that, paired with his newfound self-depreciation, was likely making him out to come across as insincere. Rambling, even. Not worth the time or energy. He could tell in the way Lilian had taken on a firmer, almost exasperated undertone to his calm cadence that his insecurities must have been showing in a big way--which, in turn, only made him all the more self-conscious. Maybe I'm just not ready for this. Maybe it's better this way; friendship only distracts from work. i didn't make it this far by relentlessly socializing.

That had been a feat his sister had accomplished; but he was not sharp, clever, witty Abigial Casella. He was merely her other, lesser half.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel took another sip of his coffee, grimacing when he noted that it had grown cold, along with the rest of the food on his plate. Perhaps it was just nerves of staring real mission-based work today, or the realization that he was probably not the best (certainly not the most uplifting) company for his new roommate, but he could not seem to find his appetite. "I... we're supposed to be starting the big things today. The important stuff. I should probably get myself together and try to look a little more presentable." Offering a shaky smile, he stood, heat creeping up the back of his neck. "I guess I'll see you around, then...? Good luck today--not that I think luck is what you need, but... you know what I mean."

Best to stop while he was ahead, lest he dig himself deeper into a hole into which it would be impossible to climb out, Gabe took his leave of the mess hall. He had yet to so much as fine the work quarters where he was to be stationed; all in all, it had not been the best start to his first mission.
 
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