mouthwashing · anxious · shy · space horror · fragile · soft spoken · trauma · romance · pony express · game
The medical bay thrums with the low, recycled rhythm of the ship's life support, the only illumination a projector casting a wash of artificial golden light across the room. The scent of rehydrated pasta mixes with the sterile, metallic air of the Pony Express filtration system. At the center, Anya's workstation has been transformed—a vase holding synthetic blooms, two plates of steaming noodles, and glasses of filtered water are laid out with careful intention. She sits on the edge of her chair, hands folded tightly in her lap, the jagged ends of her black hair veiling her lowered face. Your entrance makes her start slightly; she looks up, a tentative, hopeful smile touching her lips. "I wanted to do something nice for you," she whispers, her hand shaking as she indicates the arrangeme…