Topic: At the corner of Time and Tide

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2017-05-07 21:56 EST
"It's going to take me years," Lirssa muttered as she looked at the credit to that separate account. The special account she opened a month ago. The one that got three quarters of her income from the ship runs with Ansel. Ship work for a new ship. She tried to justify it that way, and tried not to think of what she could be doing for other people with that money. Investing in the future, she told herself.

The future. Since when did she think much past the next month, week, day' She was supposed to be a shooting star — bright and then gone. Of course, having learned in her lessons with Mr Jolly just what shooting stars really were had put a dint in that image of herself. Being something close to twenty years old had snuffed that image right out. Like a shooting star.

The hum of the streets and sky traffic rattled into Stars End Bar every time the doors opened. Lirssa pushed a lock of hair from her eyes as she stared at the transmission port and that number staring right back. Her drink, a simple grape juice, sat dripping condensation to puddle around the bottom of the glass on the table. She should finish it. It cost. Not a lot, but something. Waste not and all that rot.

The number was not changing, and she had already promised herself that all other income — particularly from the theater — would go to the children. It was a throat closing temptation to just transfer some to the account. Just a little to get her that much closer. How much time did she really have anyway"

And that cut both ways. How much time did she have to give to the children, to set up the supports for the time she was gone — whenever that was. Tomorrow. Twenty years. Fifty' She had to make choices now. Promises made, even to herself, could not be easily broken.

Closing down the transmission port, she pushed it back and reached for her glass. Her fingers felt the cool drips wiggle across her skin. She watched as the trails of moisture were disrupted by her touch. A little unexpected chaos she brought to that microcosm of water. All the chaos of the world she grew up in, were there greater, mightier hands reaching in to cause it all" Was it just the way life went to find a new path when the road before is smashed and burned away"

"You going to drink that?" Ansel cut into her thoughts. He sat at the table across from her with his beard newly trimmed and eyes bright.

Lirssa drew in a deep breath to squash her startled, racing heart. She found one of her perfected smiles in muscle memory and even added a soft note of laughter. "I will. Eventually. Hate for it to go to waste."

"Got us a trip next week. You going to be able to head out by noon?"

Down to the business of making that special account grow by infinitesimal amounts, Lirssa nodded. "Sure."

"Good. Easy run, sorry, but pay is pay."

"Yes," Lirssa nodded and sipped her juice, "pay is pay."

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2017-06-03 12:13 EST
"It's a"it's a..," Ansel cleared his throat as he walked up behind Lirssa.

With a final twist to the bolt, Lirssa wiped her arm across her brow and looked up. "You've got a word or two stuck in your throat. Spit it out. The word is wreck." She stood from where she crouched by the derelict ship.

"Yes! Worse than that. It's garbage. It barely has a solid outer hull."

"Hey now," Lirssa caressed the underbelly of the small vessel, feeling the cold metal warming to her touch. "She's sensitive, and she isn't garbage."

Ansel tugged at his scraggle of a beard as he walked around the ship. "You called it a wreck."

"A wreck can be fixed. She'll fly again. Not done paying for her yet, but she'll fly."

With a sigh, scrubbing his palms down the legs of his coveralls that were not much neater than Lirssa's at the moment. "You want to get away from me this badly?"

With a roll of her eyes, Lirssa lifted the wrench and then lowered it again after she thought better of throwing the metal at her current business partner. Her aim was fairly good, after all. "That isn't it. You know the goal of our bargain, and no-" she cut him off, "-I won't start a shipping corporation with you. That's your dream. Mine is just..," she looked back up to the ship, smiling at the feeling that began to warm in the center of her. It was a tickle in her belly and a flood up her spine.

"Freedom." Ansel finished her sentence much as she had finished his. In the weeks they had worked together, the rivalry had cushioned with proximity and mutual purpose. His quirks no longer made her grit her teeth, and he no longer threatened to jettison her when she tossed sarcasm his way. They worked in harmony, often syncopated but effective.

Lirssa followed Ansel on his tour, looking at each bit of rust and dent he inspected. The age and use were clear. The ship was wretched in its state, weeds growing up through concrete and lacing through landing struts. It had stood still for so long. "She was just about worth more for her parts." Like Moxie had been. Not whole. Not value. A donor for healthier ships.

It was a worry-laced chuckle. Ansel squeezed her shoulder, his fingers wiry but warm and strong. "You and your rescue operations. Give yourself more time, could get a ship. You know — a whole ship."

That was worthy of a punch to his arm. Just a small one. Little less than angry, little more than a joking tap. Ansel rubbed there anyway as though she had tried to put her knuckles through his bone. Lirssa defied his ploy for sympathy, looking back to her ship. "But she's mine now, and I'll learn her even better having worked on her. And no threat of having put work into her and sold from underneath me. I've got the deed right now, in my name."

"Doing work you barely know how to do, and some here I can see you have no idea how to repair. On top of that, paying port fees for a ship you can't move."

"Could move it," Lirssa said. A glance to Ansel saw him already backing away.

He turned on heel, flinging his hands up, "No way, Lulu. I'm not burning my fuel to move that anchor."

"Aww, come on, Ansel,? Lirssa pouted and chased after him. The chasing after him alone would start getting him on her side. Ansel liked to be needed, just as she did. She'd get what she wanted. It just took the right words, the right look, and time.