NovaCeres

There, in one of the parlor chairs that sat in the center of the room was Cor, her back to Sword, and a glass in hand. Absentmindedly she tilted her hand slightly, giving the drink it contained a spin as finger drummed against the side of the glass. In front of her, a display illuminated her coral pink fur in black and white.

“Awake?” she called, her voice slightly gruff from lack of sleep.

Cautiously she crept forward, keeping her body low and watching for any movement. Raising the glass slightly, Cor took a sip before resting her elbow back on the arm of the parlor chair.

“You want to know one of the most disappointing things I’ve come to learn over this past month?” Cor asked, staring off at the display, “due to a hard-coded safety mechanism, I can’t get drunk.”

She took another sip as Sword crept behind her. Dropping to the ground, she settled in the shadow of the parlor chair, peeking around the edge to watch the display. Figures danced around in black and white, their movements bold and crisp on the holographic screen.

“Isn’t that lovely? I get to hear the screams, forever,” she set the glass down on the table next to her, curling her fingers around the arm of her chair, “yours, mine, theirs- they’re all the same, and they crowd around my head- biting at my flesh like flies to a carcass. It’s…”

“...overwhelming,” Sword muttered, toying with her clawed hands.

Cor turned to look at her, her eyes cold and piercing. Their crimson glow outlined Sword in crisp blood-red light and she flinched under its gaze. For a moment, confusion riddled Cor’s eyes, before the slow creep of thoughtful realization overtook its unrelenting stare.

“Yes,” Cor said slowly as she turned back to the display, clasping her hands in her lap with a slight hum, “exactly.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the taller figure watching the display with little interest, while the smaller figure’s eyes flitted around the screen following the film. They spoke in a foreign language, similar to the one that Cor would swap to. Sword watched as men in long trench coats and sharp-brimmed hats bustled around, guns at their hips. Her eyes followed various figures as they bustled around, her eyes trailing down to a little girl weaving through the crowd. Her jacket was a dull red, and the color brought itself forth from the rest of the black and white image.

“W-who is that…?” she whispered, curling her fingers around the back of the chair and peeking forwards.

“That is the girl in red,” Cor replied after a moment, tapping her fingers against the chair, “an important piece of symbolism. Dave wanted me to watch this film back during our days on the ship. He said it was something that might… change my perspective.” 

“D-did it?” Sword asked, pulling herself out of the shadow of the chair and situating herself a good distance away from Cor.

“It did little at that time, but…” Cor pressed a hand to her glass eyes, letting out a grumble, “after the Soul-Keeper… released me from Time and brought me here, I rewatched it. And for the first time, I believe I began to… cry, as your kind calls it.”

Sword now stared at her in what could only be described as a mixture of shock and disbelief. 

“Now… I’ve watched it a grand total of twenty-seven times, trying to recapture that feeling,” Cor took a deep sigh, before continuing, “do you know how painless you feel after you cry? You can’t feel anything, you’re just… empty. A good empty. It’s horrifying and beautiful and full of peace all at once.”

She nodded, the feeling all too familiar to her. Placing her hands in her lap, she watched as Cor did the same and they both turned back to the display. A few minutes passed as they viewed the movie in silence before Cor spoke up.

“It’s taken me ninety-one years to discover that feeling,” she muttered beneath her breath, “and it came in the form of a black and white movie gifted to me from an old technician.”