Appetence

Archive Log: 46

Days slowly dragged by; it was hard to know when one day fed into another, and another began. It was all very much the same. Nothing differed in the slightest, although upon this, Minerva's eyes slowly opened as she looked towards the purplish nebula before her. She had taken up residing within the observation room. The large domed window gave a brilliant panoramic shot of the space beyond their ship. At the moment they were travelling through a system no one knew even existed. The stars shone brightly with a blueish hue, as the gas clouds around them continued to glow varied colours from blue, to purple, white streaks tinged the outlines as a burst of yellowish gold was in the centre. Honestly, Minerva felt herself smile, it was beautiful.

This was one nebula of many they had passed, and she couldn't help but note how each was beautiful in its own way. They had passed a greenish gold mixed one a while back which had captivated her attention to a new level. But this one, there was something calming about it. Her eyes managed to pick out the few stars within it which were shining brighter than others, those were clearly closer to their ship. She liked this part of the ship. Well, she only liked it when there was something outside to look at. When it was just darkness, she sat cross legged and unmoving, her eyes shut and just seemingly still to the world around her.

She couldn't help but wonder whether her father ever thought that this would happen. If he could see the space they now travelled through...her heart hurt, placing a hand to her chest, she pushed gently. Thinking of everyone that had died had this effect, even more so when it was her family. There was an unresolved farewell there, and it would forever hang over her. She knew that. Didn't mean she openly accepted it.

Sighing, she just took to concentrating on the colours in front of her. They were mesmerising really. The rest of the room around her was dark, mainly because she had accessed the lights and switched them off. There was something comforting about sometimes being in the pitch black. It wasn't like she had a fear of the dark, unlike humans. At that thought, Minerva's calm exterior slowly hunched and turned into a very bitter one. She had been excluded. It had been a gradual thing, a slow growing thing, taking over like vines wrapping up and around a tree to suffocate it of life.

Elizabeth and David were getting close. She had sat one day, or night, and watched as they seemingly talked, joked even, as if they were old friends. It was bizarre. One minute Elizabeth was wary of them, like a trapped mouse, next everything had seemingly been forgotten and everyone should be all buddy-buddy. They hadn't included her in the conversation, seeing as how it was David teaching Elizabeth how to properly read star maps, it seemed neither thought she'd be interested. Or maybe she didn't have the intelligence to read a bloody map. She wasn't an idiot. And she didn't like being left out and made to feel like one.

Yes, her systems may be old, outdated by far, but she was still as sharp and switched on as David, even if he was craftier and smarter than her. She could keep up with them both, but this whole map reading thing wasn't even the first or last of it. She didn't get it. She was all for trying to get along, but this sudden closeness in an apparent friendship that literally came out of nowhere, just like this pretty nebula she was watching, confused her. She didn't get it.

She still didn't get it. She wanted to do a social experiment and see how long it would take for either to notice she was gone. As petty as it was, she also couldn't stand to sit around watching them be best buddies. If Elizabeth was confused over something, there was David. And if David seemed puzzled over something rather mundane, or even sitting in thought, there was Elizabeth. She got it rather fast, she was jealous. Third wheeling, sucked. She had been gone from their company, by her calculations, which was hard seeing as how time couldn't be based on anything; but from the stopwatch she had managed to find on a salvaged tablet from the Prometheus that Elizabeth had bought with her, the digital numbers blinked out, 350.85.27.