I could explain it. Or I could explain the one you'll ask later. Considering the average length of a podcast, you'll have to choose.
[ He knows Akira. And he knows the rough average of the times Akira inevitably asks questions when he's trying to go to sleep. But, it isn't like he'll deny him in any context. Ryo knows he knows that. There's a little something at the edges of his mouth as he glances up too. It toes between amused and coy, the line smudged years ago. It becomes more evident now, in the way his attention flicks back down to his communicator. It needn't have to. He'd learn the placement of keys here months ago. ]
Partially. There was something I wanted to ask you.
[ There's a little pause and then: ]
The connotations may not be what they're looking for. Beyond that, they're two different professions with two different curricula entirely.
[ Double majoring in that sounds like most people would never bother with it. ]
[Akira frowns deeply, his brow breaking into creases. How mean. Come on, Ryo. Why would you leave this curiosity door closed...!
...Because Ryo doesn't really sleep enough as it is, and he would especially not be able to get any sleep if he were to answer all of the inane questions Akira could divine from the ether. So, fair.]
ok fine
huh? what is it
[Ryo knows he can ask Akira pretty much anything. To address it directly is a bit odd.]
man for someone as smart as you are you got no imagination
[ There's a little devilish curve to his lips, just for a moment, before it smooths into the usual neutrality he wears. Even still, there's that hint of something more than that. It's in the bright of his eyes and the way he types, keystrokes light and easy. ]
You can forward me the rest. I'll be answering a number of them from now on.
[ Giving away your hand too early isn't any fun, Akira. ]
I thought it might be best to get someone else to pick what we'll be covering monthly. A small audience like this needs a more direct approach. Using the same formula I did back home wouldn't last long. But, more than one perspective makes listening dynamic.
[ He pauses, sinks back more against the couch. It almost disguises the small huff he makes as Akira sticks his tongue out. ]
It's factual. STEM institutions and graduates want more than imagination alone.
[Akira tries not to pay him too much mind. They are too evenly-matched in this.]
oh what really?
[Maybe so, but he isn't going to complain. He's cursed with chronic impatience.]
ohhhh what really youre going to do your show again? haha awesome
[pause.] wait are you asking me to be on the show with you?
[Akira's expression is... a bit complex. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of it, though the capacity he'd thought about months and months ago had been more in a behind-the-scenes, cheerleader-y capacity. Being actually seen or heard was... different. He was a hell of a lot bolder now, but broadcast spotlight was still something that made his stomach turn a little.]
you sure? I dont really know anything about nothing
[Except for maybe some of that imagination that was so pricey.]
[ For the best, it always ends up like that. One way or the other, one of them inevitably has to relent or ignore it. Even still, Ryo lets out a little hum. ]
Really. I plan on asking the network for more. If you like those given, you can forward those too.
[ He knows. That's why he's letting you get first dibs. Well, that and because Akira is undeniably the subject of all of his favoritism. ]
Sort of. I was thinking of making it a podcast. It'll be easier to upload, schedule, and edit that way.
[ But, he doesn't miss pause that comes or the expression that Akira takes to wearing. He feels it, before he sees it. And when he does see it, it too gives him pause. ]
Yeah, [ he says after a moment, the answer dropping past his lips. He tips his head, his pale crown pressed to the dark of the cushions. The soft curls of his hair shift in to smooth the harder angles of his face. This time, his eyes remain on Akira even as he types out: ] I'm sure.
[ Ryo has deep pockets. And he doesn't really care what academia thinks. He only cares about one thing. ]
[Man... what questions would people even submit. The answer seems too big to even comprehend; it could be anything. There were people on board who didn't really seem to know much about modern technology in general, after all.]
oh... so thats just audio right?
[Akira, who had only recently gotten a smartphone back home, tangentially knows what a podcast is. To him, it's basically like radio? Kind of?
If it's just an audio recording, he feels a little bit better about it. The last time he'd been caught on video had put the whole concept of it into a concerning light. He glances up over his communicator again at the soft sound of Ryo's voice, appraising his expression, a dull note in the back of his head inwardly remarking on how ridiculously long his hair has gotten, how much he likes the way it frames his face —
He blinks, looking back down to his communicator.]
ok
I'll do what I can to help sounds like it could be fun having broadcasts like that would be nice, itd make this place feel more like a community of people all living together
[ Most days, he doesn't think about how long his hair has gotten until Akira draws attention to it. He knows it is longer, of course, but Akira seems to enjoy it and so he leaves it as is. One day he'll have to potentially take Sakamoto up on his offer to trim it, but for now — there's a flicker of brightness that catches behind the blue of his eyes, inevitable and unknown as much as it always is when Akira pays mind to him. He knows too that Akira's hair has gotten nearly just as wild. On better days, Ryo can almost shape it into something more purposeful. More often than not — he blinks once, glances back to his communicator. ]
Yeah. I rigged a recording program. It's simple, but it'll do what it needs to.
[ There's a beat as he flips over to the holographic display, a small web of coding appearing on one screen for a moment before he lifts a hand to clear it away. What he pulls up in its place is a rudimentary program, just as he said. It resembles in some ways the old web recorders, though sleek and minimalist. There's a few drop-down menus, presumably for post-production. ]
Sound files are usually more compact, so they're simpler to download and easier to hold onto. Moreover, they can listen to them whenever they want to. Even if we put it on a schedule, they don't have to follow it.
[ That's the beauty of podcasts, isn't it? And Ryo doesn't mind answering what he can. He's covered some very controversial and peculiar topics in the past. But: ]
Thank you. You'll do just fine. Just speak to me about those questions like you usually do.
[ There's a touch of warmth at the corners of his lips. He's always been appreciative of Akira's willingness to help him, just as much as Ryo did what he could to help him. He knows that Akira will do just fine and knows that their last encounter with video wasn't the best, so in many ways it seems easier to do something less in the spotlight. Akira wasn't like him, in that way. Attention had never bothered Ryo, because all he had ever received was attention. More bad than good, it just became something he'd learned to filter out and focus through. In the end, no one brushed against who he was anyway. No one wanted to. Except — ]
Did you talk to Okumura-san about the plants?
[ That one comes after a moment. He knows Akira misses the greenery as much as others likely do. Even Ryo finds himself observing the patterns of growth for reasons more than necessity. He'd never admit to it, but it was quieter there. Many people never thought to tread in for more than a handful of moments. ]
[Akira's hair was a mess, but that was mostly by practice and design — before his parents had left Japan his mother had taught him how best to discern to cut his own hair, and the results were certainly mixed. Messy, but passable. Regardless of what he did to it by this point it remained for the most part untameable, though he prefers keep it short enough not to get into his eyes too badly.
His head tilts in a diagonal as he blankly observes the coding, attention focusing a bit as it turns into something that looks fairly familiar.
Well, it was certainly something to do around here. It gets so boring when they're not being forced to listen to the last few decades' greatest shitty hits or nearly dying from some mystery plague.]
okay yeah if its just something like that then I can do it
[Fortunately he isn't very easily embarrassed.]
oh... no I kinda forgot I really should though because the plants mightve helped with the disease or at least it wouldve made this place a little less soul-crushing when it was happening
[ Ryo had never had to cut his own hair. He'd always had others do it for him. In the year he'd spent with Akira, those at the home had taken care of it, but they'd always found it a shame to cut it too short regardless of his disposition. If it was one thing they liked even more than they liked him, it was his hair. For all they could have picked, it was one of the traits that marked him as something strange, foreign. And yet, it didn't inspire their uncertainty and their distaste in those moments. It was ironic.
Still, Ryo nods once and makes himself more comfortable on his usual end of the couch. He sinks back a little more, stretches his legs comfortably where he has them crossed and balanced upon the table. ]
Don't worry. I'm sure she'll appreciate hearing from you whenever you contact her.
Plants filter out carbon dioxide naturally. It would have made breathing a little easier back then.
[ He adds, after a moment: ]
The month before would have been quieter too.
[ There's a little flicker of something at the corners of his mouth, something like a touch of warmth. It was still loud, but it seemed more tolerable with Akira leading him through the green and the new, his heart humming in a way he hadn't recognized or told himself he hadn't recognized before.
[He wouldn't have known the science of it; facts and scientifically-approved theories were pale, chalky things to him without much tangible use. But he knew the truth of it through lived experience: how it always felt easier running along the tree-studded path near the water rather than the school's track, how dense and oppressive the Tokyo air had felt after he moved from that tiny town on the rocky coast.
The memories constrict upon his lungs like the sides of his ribs turned to iron cages, a pit of lead sinking into his gut. The nostalgia sours into homesickness. He quietly blinks it away.]
if the vents mess up again it would probably help at least a little its so dark around the station though so they might not grow really well but haru would know a lot better about that than me
[Or Ryo, but he keeps that thought to himself. Ryo probably has more assorted knowledge on the subject, but he'd trust Haru's intuition on the subject; she's the one who's had her hands in the soil, tending to the plants, after all.
He sighs, short and quick, through his nose.]
seems kind of like a bandaid on a bigger problem
[A brief pause.]
dont you think we should be trying harder to get outta here?
[ Ryo's fondness for the planet they left behind is housed in a singular form instead of fluctuating topographies, though he could not say so yet. In an outpost of a planet, nestled in the emptiness, Ryo had nothing more than singular instance to pin the warmth of his nostalgia to. An outlying series of data in the theoretical constructions he'd housed himself in, the systems he tried so hard to believe in were always weakened by a variable he could account for. And yet, he never rid of it. He couldn't. No matter how he denied, it implied more about the vulnerabilities and betrayals of Ryo Asuka as a subject. There was no armor strong enough to keep it back, no wall high enough to scrape the exterior boundary. When the contradiction lived within, punched into the mortar of all of his emotional fortresses like ivy, ripping it out without it comprising its structural integrity was an impossibility. Without Akira, who to Ryo was the only important thing, he did not exist.
And the tragedy and blessing of that, perhaps, was the fact he was not yet capable of articulating it. ]
Plants are more resilient than we give them credit for.
[ Straight to the point and matter of fact. He leaves it at that, knowing that Haru has more knowledge of the actual art than the application. One couldn't paint without technique, but one is not a painter without creativity. Ryo was better suited to the harder facts, something he'd been made well aware of.
Even still, Akira brings with him concerns he'd been mulling over for some time now. It hadn't been able to be discussed in earnest until now, but: ]
I do, [ Ryo says. His voice is like it always in these scenarios: direct and without uncertainty.
It's a small series of movements that triggers the transition from text, a sway more than a pull. He straightens his posture, lifts his head, one hand coming up to tuck the longer strands of his hair behind the shell of his ear. He doesn't tend to it more than that, before turning his wrist and unwinding the communicator from about it. He extends to Akira, mouth dipping downward in thought. ]
There was a report posted by a user named Nines. He and another guy opened the hangar bay nearly two months ago. I was able to access the ships and rovers myself, but since then I haven't had the time to dedicate to learning the controls. Moreover, I thought it would be better to wait to see if our more organic supplies were viable. It's hard to say how long the replicator's materials would last in the event something went wrong. [ Between the disease and the endless, looping music — the conditions hadn't been ideal. He leans forward a little, should Akira have taken his communicator, and scrolls through the document he's opened to the relevant portion of the document he's pulled up. ] I tried getting into the system to see if it had an autopilot function.
[ Ryo blinks once and glances up, before scrolling down to another portion of the document for him. ] I haven't found it yet.
[ But, the implication that he's planning to try it again is there, as is the implicit suggestion that Akira's welcome to come along and figure it out with him. It always is there. It has always been there, since the time they were children. ]
[The flatness of Akira's expression looming over the glow of his communicator telegraphs the demeanor of his reply, something which he taps out immediately afterwards:]
coulda had me fooled every time I've tried to keep one alive
[He supposes he doesn't have the mindset for it, too easily distracted and ill-equipped to fall easily into standard routines. Especially in the village of his youngest years he had had a stab or two at trying to maintain a small garden tucked into the corner at the back of the house, but it had never ended very well. Some people just don't have the touch for it, he could vaguely remember his mother saying.
But people like Haru and assumedly others aboard did, so they would just have to rely on them.
His attention flickers back up as Ryo speaks this time in answer, causing Akira to lower the communicator strapped to his wrist. He catches Ryo's intention at the height of the arc of his movement, pulling himself up into a sitting position as well so he could take the offered communicator and see what he had to show him. Between all the listed reports and information, his eyes start to glaze over a bit; he's grateful for the explanation, even if the meaning read between the lines was a little less than encouraging.] The fact that this place seemed to be tryin' real hard to kill us these last few months should mean we should be lookin' more into this.
[Even though...
This last implication is obvious enough, and Akira has to laugh; it's just like Ryo to suggest something like that, and even with how much demonic impulses had eroded his stronger senses of self-preservation, he isn't quite sure about that. Less because it risked himself (because he always seemed to piece himself back together, regardless of what happened), but more because of how it put Ryo in danger.]
Yeah, well... [his trepidation seeps in through his tone,] there's not really a good way of testing out how to fly those things, is there? It's... I mean, if somethin' goes wrong, all there is is space, and we don't have a lot of stuff to protect people from that.
[He's not even sure how long he could survive as Devilman out there. Probably not very long. Regardless of whatever demonic strength he had, he still required oxygen and would probably freeze at absolute zero.]
But if we could test it out a bit in the hangar before actually tryin' to take it somewhere, yeah, could be fun. I just... think that it's pretty obvious that we can't be thinkin' this place is safe for very long, anymore.
[Not that it was ever very safe to start, but now they have more potential options.]
[ He needn't the prompting to remember Akira's failures to coax plants to thrive. Like all childhood experiments, they'd taken singular soybeans and let them grow roots in their makeshift greenhouse bags. Placed up on the window ledges, they'd let them grow pale roots across dampened paper towels before transplanting them. No matter how little mind Ryo paid his, his plants always flourished under his hands. They were hungry, uncertainty things. They grew tall and delicate, but he'd always tell Akira that he could take his. He knew, no matter how hardy it might have had the chance to have been, it would eventually die without a stable place to live. ]
You over-watered them, [ he says, the syllables rounding in fainter fondness at their ends. ] The roots always rotted.
[ The tips of Ryo's fingers hone in on a singular end to his data collection. There's suggestions laid bare there, in terms that are more succinct than academic. But, he'd anticipated too that trepidation. Akira, no matter the impulsivity that Amon had granted him, held fast to his considering core. It was a warm and weighty thing, something that made Ryo's chest ache in presence of it. He pushes on around the sensation, the faint glimmer of certainty perhaps inherent in the way Ryo now looks at him. ]
That's why we shouldn't rely on anyone else to do it for us. [ For all he cared, everyone else could remain as long as they wanted. ] No one else has come to us with a plan and there aren't enough suits to protect everyone. We're at risk in either direction. [ He pauses, scrolls down to a few embedded photos. The controls, to say the least, are complicated. Even Ryo can't make much sense of them, though he hasn't quite kicked one of those things on. ] I thought of seeking out someone who has some familiarity with these, now that the hydroponics have had time to produce something to take with us. [ But, it all really boils down to one thing: ] Transplanting will be easier.
[ He has no idea of the nutritional levels in the soil, but there's sunflowers and sprouts. He's run some limited tests he's with the replicators, but he isn't confident that that would be enough to subsist off of long-term if they really want off the station. Besides that, he has no idea if anything below is remotely edible. ]
In the meantime, testing it out is our best option. [ He pulls his hand back from his communicator, if only to rest it for a brief moment against the crook of Akira's arm. He knows Akira's worries, in that way. They're the inverse of his own. For all that Akira worries for Ryo, Ryo too looks out for him. He lets his hand settle in his lap. ] If they turn us down, we won't have to worry about it, [ he continues. ] I've never seen anyone else in the hangar. They won't bother us.
[He hadn't — and perhaps still doesn't — understand that concept, that something could suffer equally under the brunt of too much attention than under stringent neglect. It had been natural in his eyes that the ones that Ryo had looked after would flourish; in such matters it seemed impossible for him to err, the shape of the world naturally shifting to make up for anything amiss. But Akira's attention and care (and over-attention and over-care) had inevitably cut short the lives of the plants under his care, and so slowly he'd stopped trying, always falling into familiar pitfalls despite being aware of them.]
Yeah. [His answer is soft, his gaze falling under his eyelashes as he looked down for a moment.] Yeah, that was always the problem, huh.
[The images of the controls to the various ships cause his expression to crease in confusion and concern once more, though he's distracted by it by what was brought up afterward.] You really think stuff from Earth might be able to grow down there? Isn't that stuff kinda... sensitive to a whole bunch'a things that change, depending on the planet.
[He's just thinking that all of the planets he'd seen in sci-fi stuff had looked so different than Earth, and the planet they were in orbit of seemed similar.]
Might be better off seein' if there's anything already down there that wouldn't kill us if we tried eating it.
[But that would involve getting down there, and Akira's attention is tugged back up to Ryo's face when his hand comes to rest in the bend of his elbow, a gesture that always seemed simultaneously soothing and bracing.
He exhales.]
If you think that's the best way to go from here, okay. ...Even still, that's just keepin' us alive out here. [He pauses for a moment.] Doesn't really seem like it's gonna get us any closer to home.
[ Akira had always balanced Ryo, as much as Ryo had balanced him. For all the softness that Akira held beneath his skin, Ryo was the shield that protected him. And so, when Ryo could no longer hold the heft of his facade, Akira had tended to the absence of warmth in him like the plants they'd over-watered in their youth. And just as Ryo cannot comprehend (or tells himself he cannot comprehend) the sorrow for each and every rot brought on by consideration, Ryo too cannot comprehend entirely that he is one of the very things that needed an excess of love. ]
It's possible. While plants are incredibly sensitive, many are also incredibly adaptable. [ The decay in the past hardly mattered now. ] The species they have on board isn't an accident. [ He lifts a hand again, makes a gesture more expansive than absent. It's a dismissal of worry, but a confirmation that he's done the homework they needed. ] At worst, they fail and we test. [ His mouth bows, considering and soft. ] I have a plan for that too.
[ He always does. That's what he's here for. He's gone through the library to reaffirm what he'd assumed. They'd have to take to trying what could be edible like every predecessor. But, they'd be safer than they'd ever hoped. The strategies laid were incontrovertible. As long as he had that, there was nothing below that could harm them for long.
But, still — he resettles his hand back in his lap. He reconsiders in the next breath, his fingers unfurling to brush against the edge of Akira's knee. ]
It's a solution only in the short term, [ he starts, his gaze flickering downward. Ryo has known no real home, outside of the one he has lost in another life. An far-flung outpost, green and beautiful. The only one he has now is the one he's anchored in Akira. Where he goes, Ryo follows. It does not matter that he does not allow himself to know.
He shifts his hand, curves his palm to the crown of Akira's knee. There's a small pause, before he drags his attention back up. ] I'll find a way bring us home, no matter what. [ His fingers curl, firm and measured. ] I won't be able to do it unless we're safer first.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
oh shit
why do the colors not mix
I might not be able to sleep unless you solve this sudden mystery right now
[He peers over his communicator to Ryo with a wry, though also vaguely coy smile.]
wouldnt matter?
of course itd matter itd be hilarious
but I mean its your show so I guess... do whatever you want
well theyre dumb then
because rocket surgeon sounds awesome
a combination of two really cool things
[Are surgeons supposed to be really cool?]
no subject
Or I could explain the one you'll ask later.
Considering the average length of a podcast, you'll have to choose.
[ He knows Akira. And he knows the rough average of the times Akira inevitably asks questions when he's trying to go to sleep. But, it isn't like he'll deny him in any context. Ryo knows he knows that. There's a little something at the edges of his mouth as he glances up too. It toes between amused and coy, the line smudged years ago. It becomes more evident now, in the way his attention flicks back down to his communicator. It needn't have to. He'd learn the placement of keys here months ago. ]
Partially.
There was something I wanted to ask you.
[ There's a little pause and then: ]
The connotations may not be what they're looking for.
Beyond that, they're two different professions with two different curricula entirely.
[ Double majoring in that sounds like most people would never bother with it. ]
no subject
...Because Ryo doesn't really sleep enough as it is, and he would especially not be able to get any sleep if he were to answer all of the inane questions Akira could divine from the ether. So, fair.]
ok fine
huh?
what is it
[Ryo knows he can ask Akira pretty much anything. To address it directly is a bit odd.]
man for someone as smart as you are you got no imagination
[He sticks out his tongue.]
no subject
You can forward me the rest.
I'll be answering a number of them from now on.
[ Giving away your hand too early isn't any fun, Akira. ]
I thought it might be best to get someone else to pick what we'll be covering monthly.
A small audience like this needs a more direct approach.
Using the same formula I did back home wouldn't last long.
But, more than one perspective makes listening dynamic.
[ He pauses, sinks back more against the couch. It almost disguises the small huff he makes as Akira sticks his tongue out. ]
It's factual.
STEM institutions and graduates want more than imagination alone.
[ Imagination can be expensive, Akira. ]
no subject
oh
what
really?
[Maybe so, but he isn't going to complain. He's cursed with chronic impatience.]
ohhhh what really youre going to do your show again?
haha awesome
[pause.] wait are you asking me to be on the show with you?
[Akira's expression is... a bit complex. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of it, though the capacity he'd thought about months and months ago had been more in a behind-the-scenes, cheerleader-y capacity. Being actually seen or heard was... different. He was a hell of a lot bolder now, but broadcast spotlight was still something that made his stomach turn a little.]
you sure? I dont really know anything about nothing
[Except for maybe some of that imagination that was so pricey.]
no subject
Really.
I plan on asking the network for more.
If you like those given, you can forward those too.
[ He knows. That's why he's letting you get first dibs. Well, that and because Akira is undeniably the subject of all of his favoritism. ]
Sort of.
I was thinking of making it a podcast.
It'll be easier to upload, schedule, and edit that way.
[ But, he doesn't miss pause that comes or the expression that Akira takes to wearing. He feels it, before he sees it. And when he does see it, it too gives him pause. ]
Yeah, [ he says after a moment, the answer dropping past his lips. He tips his head, his pale crown pressed to the dark of the cushions. The soft curls of his hair shift in to smooth the harder angles of his face. This time, his eyes remain on Akira even as he types out: ] I'm sure.
[ Ryo has deep pockets. And he doesn't really care what academia thinks. He only cares about one thing. ]
You can be part of it however you like.
no subject
oh... so thats just audio right?
[Akira, who had only recently gotten a smartphone back home, tangentially knows what a podcast is. To him, it's basically like radio? Kind of?
If it's just an audio recording, he feels a little bit better about it. The last time he'd been caught on video had put the whole concept of it into a concerning light. He glances up over his communicator again at the soft sound of Ryo's voice, appraising his expression, a dull note in the back of his head inwardly remarking on how ridiculously long his hair has gotten, how much he likes the way it frames his face —
He blinks, looking back down to his communicator.]
ok
I'll do what I can to help
sounds like it could be fun
having broadcasts like that would be nice, itd make this place feel more like a community of people all living together
[It hasn't always necessarily felt that way.]
no subject
Yeah.
I rigged a recording program.
It's simple, but it'll do what it needs to.
[ There's a beat as he flips over to the holographic display, a small web of coding appearing on one screen for a moment before he lifts a hand to clear it away. What he pulls up in its place is a rudimentary program, just as he said. It resembles in some ways the old web recorders, though sleek and minimalist. There's a few drop-down menus, presumably for post-production. ]
Sound files are usually more compact, so they're simpler to download and easier to hold onto.
Moreover, they can listen to them whenever they want to.
Even if we put it on a schedule, they don't have to follow it.
[ That's the beauty of podcasts, isn't it? And Ryo doesn't mind answering what he can. He's covered some very controversial and peculiar topics in the past. But: ]
Thank you.
You'll do just fine.
Just speak to me about those questions like you usually do.
[ There's a touch of warmth at the corners of his lips. He's always been appreciative of Akira's willingness to help him, just as much as Ryo did what he could to help him. He knows that Akira will do just fine and knows that their last encounter with video wasn't the best, so in many ways it seems easier to do something less in the spotlight. Akira wasn't like him, in that way. Attention had never bothered Ryo, because all he had ever received was attention. More bad than good, it just became something he'd learned to filter out and focus through. In the end, no one brushed against who he was anyway. No one wanted to. Except — ]
Did you talk to Okumura-san about the plants?
[ That one comes after a moment. He knows Akira misses the greenery as much as others likely do. Even Ryo finds himself observing the patterns of growth for reasons more than necessity. He'd never admit to it, but it was quieter there. Many people never thought to tread in for more than a handful of moments. ]
no subject
His head tilts in a diagonal as he blankly observes the coding, attention focusing a bit as it turns into something that looks fairly familiar.
Well, it was certainly something to do around here. It gets so boring when they're not being forced to listen to the last few decades' greatest shitty hits or nearly dying from some mystery plague.]
okay yeah
if its just something like that then I can do it
[Fortunately he isn't very easily embarrassed.]
oh... no
I kinda forgot
I really should though because the plants mightve helped with the disease or at least it wouldve made this place a little less soul-crushing when it was happening
no subject
Still, Ryo nods once and makes himself more comfortable on his usual end of the couch. He sinks back a little more, stretches his legs comfortably where he has them crossed and balanced upon the table. ]
Don't worry.
I'm sure she'll appreciate hearing from you whenever you contact her.
Plants filter out carbon dioxide naturally.
It would have made breathing a little easier back then.
[ He adds, after a moment: ]
The month before would have been quieter too.
[ There's a little flicker of something at the corners of his mouth, something like a touch of warmth. It was still loud, but it seemed more tolerable with Akira leading him through the green and the new, his heart humming in a way he hadn't recognized or told himself he hadn't recognized before.
He places the thought aside. ]
no subject
The memories constrict upon his lungs like the sides of his ribs turned to iron cages, a pit of lead sinking into his gut. The nostalgia sours into homesickness. He quietly blinks it away.]
if the vents mess up again it would probably help at least a little
its so dark around the station though so they might not grow really well
but haru would know a lot better about that than me
[Or Ryo, but he keeps that thought to himself. Ryo probably has more assorted knowledge on the subject, but he'd trust Haru's intuition on the subject; she's the one who's had her hands in the soil, tending to the plants, after all.
He sighs, short and quick, through his nose.]
seems kind of like a bandaid on a bigger problem
[A brief pause.]
dont you think we should be trying harder to get outta here?
no subject
And the tragedy and blessing of that, perhaps, was the fact he was not yet capable of articulating it. ]
Plants are more resilient than we give them credit for.
[ Straight to the point and matter of fact. He leaves it at that, knowing that Haru has more knowledge of the actual art than the application. One couldn't paint without technique, but one is not a painter without creativity. Ryo was better suited to the harder facts, something he'd been made well aware of.
Even still, Akira brings with him concerns he'd been mulling over for some time now. It hadn't been able to be discussed in earnest until now, but: ]
I do, [ Ryo says. His voice is like it always in these scenarios: direct and without uncertainty.
It's a small series of movements that triggers the transition from text, a sway more than a pull. He straightens his posture, lifts his head, one hand coming up to tuck the longer strands of his hair behind the shell of his ear. He doesn't tend to it more than that, before turning his wrist and unwinding the communicator from about it. He extends to Akira, mouth dipping downward in thought. ]
There was a report posted by a user named Nines. He and another guy opened the hangar bay nearly two months ago. I was able to access the ships and rovers myself, but since then I haven't had the time to dedicate to learning the controls. Moreover, I thought it would be better to wait to see if our more organic supplies were viable. It's hard to say how long the replicator's materials would last in the event something went wrong. [ Between the disease and the endless, looping music — the conditions hadn't been ideal. He leans forward a little, should Akira have taken his communicator, and scrolls through the document he's opened to the relevant portion of the document he's pulled up. ] I tried getting into the system to see if it had an autopilot function.
[ Ryo blinks once and glances up, before scrolling down to another portion of the document for him. ] I haven't found it yet.
[ But, the implication that he's planning to try it again is there, as is the implicit suggestion that Akira's welcome to come along and figure it out with him. It always is there. It has always been there, since the time they were children. ]
no subject
coulda had me fooled every time I've tried to keep one alive
[He supposes he doesn't have the mindset for it, too easily distracted and ill-equipped to fall easily into standard routines. Especially in the village of his youngest years he had had a stab or two at trying to maintain a small garden tucked into the corner at the back of the house, but it had never ended very well. Some people just don't have the touch for it, he could vaguely remember his mother saying.
But people like Haru and assumedly others aboard did, so they would just have to rely on them.
His attention flickers back up as Ryo speaks this time in answer, causing Akira to lower the communicator strapped to his wrist. He catches Ryo's intention at the height of the arc of his movement, pulling himself up into a sitting position as well so he could take the offered communicator and see what he had to show him. Between all the listed reports and information, his eyes start to glaze over a bit; he's grateful for the explanation, even if the meaning read between the lines was a little less than encouraging.] The fact that this place seemed to be tryin' real hard to kill us these last few months should mean we should be lookin' more into this.
[Even though...
This last implication is obvious enough, and Akira has to laugh; it's just like Ryo to suggest something like that, and even with how much demonic impulses had eroded his stronger senses of self-preservation, he isn't quite sure about that. Less because it risked himself (because he always seemed to piece himself back together, regardless of what happened), but more because of how it put Ryo in danger.]
Yeah, well... [his trepidation seeps in through his tone,] there's not really a good way of testing out how to fly those things, is there? It's... I mean, if somethin' goes wrong, all there is is space, and we don't have a lot of stuff to protect people from that.
[He's not even sure how long he could survive as Devilman out there. Probably not very long. Regardless of whatever demonic strength he had, he still required oxygen and would probably freeze at absolute zero.]
But if we could test it out a bit in the hangar before actually tryin' to take it somewhere, yeah, could be fun. I just... think that it's pretty obvious that we can't be thinkin' this place is safe for very long, anymore.
[Not that it was ever very safe to start, but now they have more potential options.]
no subject
You over-watered them, [ he says, the syllables rounding in fainter fondness at their ends. ] The roots always rotted.
[ The tips of Ryo's fingers hone in on a singular end to his data collection. There's suggestions laid bare there, in terms that are more succinct than academic. But, he'd anticipated too that trepidation. Akira, no matter the impulsivity that Amon had granted him, held fast to his considering core. It was a warm and weighty thing, something that made Ryo's chest ache in presence of it. He pushes on around the sensation, the faint glimmer of certainty perhaps inherent in the way Ryo now looks at him. ]
That's why we shouldn't rely on anyone else to do it for us. [ For all he cared, everyone else could remain as long as they wanted. ] No one else has come to us with a plan and there aren't enough suits to protect everyone. We're at risk in either direction. [ He pauses, scrolls down to a few embedded photos. The controls, to say the least, are complicated. Even Ryo can't make much sense of them, though he hasn't quite kicked one of those things on. ] I thought of seeking out someone who has some familiarity with these, now that the hydroponics have had time to produce something to take with us. [ But, it all really boils down to one thing: ] Transplanting will be easier.
[ He has no idea of the nutritional levels in the soil, but there's sunflowers and sprouts. He's run some limited tests he's with the replicators, but he isn't confident that that would be enough to subsist off of long-term if they really want off the station. Besides that, he has no idea if anything below is remotely edible. ]
In the meantime, testing it out is our best option. [ He pulls his hand back from his communicator, if only to rest it for a brief moment against the crook of Akira's arm. He knows Akira's worries, in that way. They're the inverse of his own. For all that Akira worries for Ryo, Ryo too looks out for him. He lets his hand settle in his lap. ] If they turn us down, we won't have to worry about it, [ he continues. ] I've never seen anyone else in the hangar. They won't bother us.
[ Well, he can be certain of that at least. ]
no subject
Yeah. [His answer is soft, his gaze falling under his eyelashes as he looked down for a moment.] Yeah, that was always the problem, huh.
[The images of the controls to the various ships cause his expression to crease in confusion and concern once more, though he's distracted by it by what was brought up afterward.] You really think stuff from Earth might be able to grow down there? Isn't that stuff kinda... sensitive to a whole bunch'a things that change, depending on the planet.
[He's just thinking that all of the planets he'd seen in sci-fi stuff had looked so different than Earth, and the planet they were in orbit of seemed similar.]
Might be better off seein' if there's anything already down there that wouldn't kill us if we tried eating it.
[But that would involve getting down there, and Akira's attention is tugged back up to Ryo's face when his hand comes to rest in the bend of his elbow, a gesture that always seemed simultaneously soothing and bracing.
He exhales.]
If you think that's the best way to go from here, okay. ...Even still, that's just keepin' us alive out here. [He pauses for a moment.] Doesn't really seem like it's gonna get us any closer to home.
no subject
It's possible. While plants are incredibly sensitive, many are also incredibly adaptable. [ The decay in the past hardly mattered now. ] The species they have on board isn't an accident. [ He lifts a hand again, makes a gesture more expansive than absent. It's a dismissal of worry, but a confirmation that he's done the homework they needed. ] At worst, they fail and we test. [ His mouth bows, considering and soft. ] I have a plan for that too.
[ He always does. That's what he's here for. He's gone through the library to reaffirm what he'd assumed. They'd have to take to trying what could be edible like every predecessor. But, they'd be safer than they'd ever hoped. The strategies laid were incontrovertible. As long as he had that, there was nothing below that could harm them for long.
But, still — he resettles his hand back in his lap. He reconsiders in the next breath, his fingers unfurling to brush against the edge of Akira's knee. ]
It's a solution only in the short term, [ he starts, his gaze flickering downward. Ryo has known no real home, outside of the one he has lost in another life. An far-flung outpost, green and beautiful. The only one he has now is the one he's anchored in Akira. Where he goes, Ryo follows. It does not matter that he does not allow himself to know.
He shifts his hand, curves his palm to the crown of Akira's knee. There's a small pause, before he drags his attention back up. ] I'll find a way bring us home, no matter what. [ His fingers curl, firm and measured. ] I won't be able to do it unless we're safer first.