The Worlds at Our Fingertips
A Stardust Perc’ahlia AU. After a nice break over the holidays, I’m back to fic writing! Things are a little more cluttered in this stretch of my life, so weekly updates may not be happening. Rest assured I am still excited about this fic and love writing it! Thanks to everyone who has been waiting patiently, and I hope you all had a wonderful holiday!
Vex has no idea how much time it takes for The Broken Howl to stop pitching and swaying. The passage of time stops its usual habit of leaving mental markers in her mind, and trundles along down a nondescript path that leaves her disoriented. Additionally, Vex isn’t sure if the airship escapes the storm, or if the storm itself merely leaves them behind. She supposes it doesn’t really matter. What matters is the fellow she helped pull back onto the ship is doing well with the exception of some stitches and a sharp headache. Vex is careful to speak in a moderate tone near him, sympathetic to his plight after having spent her recent days nursing similar injuries. A few other people in the mess hall are sporting smaller pains, bumps, and bruises. They’re all the result of the splintering channel… but the storm had come and gone without leaving any serious injuries.
With the danger safely behind them, and business as usual continuing above the deck, the crew has no qualms speaking about the onset of the storm. It had apparently appeared with breathtaking swiftness, developing at a rate that must’ve been spurred on with magic. None of them had caught a whiff of magic beforehand, and the conjuration of the storm had blindsided them all. Pike had acted quickly enough to buy her crew time to prepare and secure their lifelines, but at the cost of mistiming a strike of lightning. Everyone is eager to explain that things could have been much worse had their fearless leader not acted as she did.
Vex listens while swimming around in a mental fog. It seems like people are speaking around her, but not to her. She feels dazed and incredibly small. The memory of the storm still thunders in her mind, and the quick glances Percy keeps shooting her don’t help her pay any sort of attention to what’s being said. He’s standing near the wall by the metal stove, warming his hands. Vex doesn’t feel quite up to standing at the moment, otherwise she might join him.
Unexpectedly, a flagon of ale is planted between her hands. Vex startles and looks up into Scanlan’s blinding grin. His hair is damp and mussed, but somehow still maintains the appearance of purposeful styling.
“A drink for the big damn hero!” Scanlan says loudly.