What is a writer?
A miserable little pile of words!


Call me MP or Miz


Fiction attempted, with various levels of success.


Yes, I do need help, thank you for noticing.



MiserablePileOfWords
@MiserablePileOfWords

BR247516-I stared mistrustingly at The Big Wet — the sea — outside her cockpit.
She did not like this idea.
Did not want to be here.
Who knew what this structurally unsound sand — beach, her brain helpfully provided — beneath her landing struts would do to her poor ship's engines?

She looked at her operative in the overhead reflective panel that showed her every corner of the ship behind her. "No."

"Aw, come on, Merry Berry." Kyra wheedled, meeting her eyes as she packed another towel in her duffel bag. "It'll be fun, I promise!"

"I was designed in space. I was decanted in space. I was made for space." BR247516-I — Berry, as her operative insisted on calling her for some reason. Not that she minded. It felt good to be... individual. Apart. Highly illicit. Inappropriate. Extremely incorrect. But good. — resolutely countered.

"Yeah, but you go down to planets now. With me." Kyra fired back.

Berry's mouth was a flat, disapproving line as she gestured at the world outside, barely visible through the rain lashing the viewport. Drumming on the hull. "There is weather happening out there." Offended.

Kyra grinned. "I know, isn't it great? The surf's going to be bodacious!"

A nose wrinkle as her operative used yet another word not in Berry's vocabulary. This had been happening with distressing regularity after her assignment to operative Kyra. She added it to the very long list of things she would have to look up later, after this mission.

She played her trump card. "I am a pilot. I do not have any training for this."

Wrong choice.

"Oh, I'll teach you, don't worry." Kyra proclaimed, sounding way too happy about it. She probably wasn't aware that her hands were kneading imaginary flesh — Berry's flesh, presumably.

Hm. That might actually be interesting... No, stay strong, BR247516-I!

"What if I fall in? The sea is cold and dangerous. It can kill you."

Chuckling. Kyra smelled victory. "And space isn't? Can't?"

Drat.

One final sally. "Before you go out into space, you put on an EVA suit! Life support!"

"Ah. Well, don't worry, Berry, I'll get you a wetsuit. You'll be cozy, warm and dry. I'll keep you safe."

Berry frowned. Why would anyone want a suit that was wet on purpose? And how did it keep you dry? On the list it went.
Naturalborn were extremely peculiar and difficult to understand.

Still, she was trying.
Trying to fit in.
Be a good pilot.
Be useful.
To not be sent back.
Decommissioned.

A defeated sigh. "Very well. I will attempt this 'surfing' of yours."

Kyra's fist pumped in the air. "Yes! Oh, you're going to love it, Berry! I know you will!"

Well, Berry did try to collect new experiences not usually offered to clones like her.
Hopefully it would be a pleasant one.


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in reply to @MiserablePileOfWords's post:

Still, she was trying.
Trying to fit in.
Be a good pilot.
Be useful.
To not be sent back.
Decommissioned.

ouchy my heart bones. little bit of a sucker for beings that are made as people, but not treated as them, but for those rare precious few who do. and the love and care of that, but also the worry and precarity of needing them.

Ohhh I love this dynamic, I'm such a sucker for nonhumans who are totally oblivious to the intricacies of human existence. This is cute and I'm gonna keep at it. Have you read Ancillary Justice? I couldn't get through it on my first go around but I have a friend who swears by it, it's very big on sentient spaceship women.