[hr][center][h1][color=yellow]Yazmin Cormick[/color] & [color=f49ac2]Owen Childs[/color][/h1][/center][hr]

After having stormed out on the others, Owen had spent the next few hours silently fuming in his room. He knew that he should've taken the time to speak with Tahlia about her dilemma, but he also knew the mindset he had been in. Owen had been ready to pop, and it seemed as if everytime he got riled up somebody used it as an excuse to receive a few injuries—not a great track record. So he had hid, locked away in his room with a pillow wrapped around his head so that he could pretend to ignore any knocks that happened upon his door, and he worried. 

At some point he must've accidentally fallen asleep, because he awoke sometime later in that terrible state where he couldn't tell if it was still the same night or the next day. Plus, despite the nap, he still felt tired. Hell, he had been tired since he had thawed out. Living in space and on alien worlds was like being permanently jet lagged, and he guessed that he looked like a weary traveler between the wrinkled suits, the rough stubble, and the way that he stupidly gawked at everything. Maybe it was a good thing that they were going to a tailor later. Owen still wanted a shave, but he doubted that the aliens would've left any razors, laser or otherwise, onboard after Benji had shown off his swashbuckling skills. Besides, he was dying for some real food, and that took precedent over everything else. 

Owen made his was to the kitchen on tip toes, still under the illusion that it was the middle of the night, the faint glow of the hallway lights guiding his way. As he entered the mess he was relieved to see that it was empty—sure, he was no longer ready to go off on someone, but it was still nice to have some "me-time" (especially after the constant surveillance that was likely still occurring). He punched in a few buttons on the console next to the fridge as it...buffered, or whatever it did, and prepped his sandwich. He imagined Echo would be able to explain to him how the soylent was processed through the thingy and then through "transfarring" it appeared in the food dock, but he was fine with the ignorance of the thing. Besides, it was more fun to imagine that there was some miniature robotic butler lovingly sticking tooth-picked olives through a double-stacked ham and cheese sandwich than to know how it really worked anyway.

On the other side of the ship, Yazmin had begun walking toward the kitchen to curb a late night emptiness in her stomach. As she walked, she periodically glanced down at her right arm, curling a fist, and watched the hydraulic cylinder rotate as her prosthetic fingers and electronic muscles coiled and contracted. She always found the sight to be slightly therapeutic, as if it were a reminder of what she could accomplish, even though she only had one arm. Well, real arm, anyway. Possibly, she thought, it signified the things she had overcome. It brought back memories. The only thing that helped, however, was the possibility that they could overcome this new adventure of theirs, just like everything else they had all over come, respectively.

While under the impression that she was the only one awake and walking, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Owen in the kitchen. [color=yellow]"Holy- Jesus, Owen,"[/color] she stammered. [color=yellow]"Do me a favor and eat louder, please,"[/color] she said. She crossed the room to the food synthesizer, and tapped a few options. A minute later, a burger sat on the food dock, specifically a medium-well cooked burger with lettuce, pepperjack cheese, tomatoes, jalapeños and sriracha sauce. Disregarding the fact that she couldn't name the reason she hungered for this specific food item, she sat down across from Owen and took a bite. She did her best to ignore the idea that the burger was completely fake, especially given that fact that it tasted so real. [color=yellow]"So good. Wonder if that thing can synthesize soda..."[/color] she wondered aloud. 

Using the index finger of her flesh arm, she whipped a bit of sauce form the corner of her lip, setting her burger down. She sat back in her chair and look over at Owen. [color=yellow]"Couldn't sleep, either?"[/color]

[color=f49ac2]"Yeah, well, napping for a century sorta throws off you sleep cycle. Besides, we get to deal with enough nightmares as it is in the real world,"[/color] he said before hurriedly taking a bite out of his sandwich. He chewed slowly and refused to make any eye contact with Yaz. Truth be told, he felt guilty whenever she was around; any time she had expressed her fears or frustrations he had consciously made the decision to avoid helping her. It had been greedy. 

[color=f49ac2]"What's your excuse?"[/color] he asked, swallowing his food and finally looking up at her. 

[color=yellow]"Oh y'know, the usual fear of aliens and the anxiety that comes with having an attempted murderer onboard."[/color] She sighed and took another bite of her burger. [color=yellow]"I spent an hour or two tinkering with some stuff in my room. I guess I tinker when I'm scared."[/color]

[color=yellow]"But hey, why that's my cross to carry,"[/color] she said, leaning her elbows on the table. She reached a moment where she had no idea what else to say, so she just left the silence hanging for a moment. Truth be told, she didn't know how to really talk to Owen beyond crappy small talk. She was personally a little intimidated by him, but not because he was over a foot taller than her, but more so because she had a feeling that he was smarter than her. Of course, she knew he wasn't a danger at all, but she was definitely scared of saying something that would make her seem stupid. 

[color=yellow]"What about you? I know you're a feelings wizard, but you've got to be at least a little scared, right?"[/color] she asked. While she spoke, her flesh index finger rubbed a circle around one of the circular bolts that helped hold her elbow arm together.

[color=f49ac2]"Oh yeah, I just wave my hands around, mutter some mumbo jumbo, and magically make everything better. A feelings wizard,"[/color] he echoed with a snort.

It wasn't truly his intention to come off as if he was blatantly mocking her, but it couldn't have sounded like anything else—he doubted that she would guess the words were just a place holder while he tried to figure out how honest he wanted to be. It'd be lying to say that he was a little scared, but would it really be the right thing to tell her that he would've been absolutely terrified if not for his more frequent and more fantastic bouts of denial? Owen lowered his eyes, trying to not appear obvious as he watched Yaz toy with her mechanical arm; a tell, a nervous twitch. He made her nervous, or at least that was what he assumed. He sighed: honesty it was, then, if only to make her more relaxed.

[color=f49ac2]"Sorry,"[/color] he said, leaning forward with his elbow on the table so that he could rest his chin on his hand. [color=f49ac2]"My inner alpha male must've sensed that my machismo was being questioned and acted on its own. Guess I spent too much time around Rend."[/color] There was a sad truth in that statement, although he knew that blaming his growing irritability on Rend was just another form of avoidance. [color=f49ac2]"To answer your question, yeah, I am. I'd be worried if somebody wasn't scared. Who could really see aliens and not have everything they've ever known suddenly put into question?"[/color] he asked rhetorically. [color=f49ac2]"But to be real with you, it's not even the aliens that scare me the most."[/color]

Another sad truth; he lowered his head and bit his lip. The aliens were complete unknowns, and fear of the unknown was understandable. People, on the other hand, were fairly predictable—even with everything around them changing, they would still go out of their way to hurt each other if it had even the slightest chance to better their personal situation. Not everybody was like this, of course; Owen liked to believe that he wasn't, although he believed that pretty much everybody thought the same thing about themselves and thus wasn't truly convinced. Besides, it didn't really matter if he was or if he wasn't when he considered some of the others that represented the last of the human race. It only took one, really, and they had a few spares in their group. However, he liked to believe that Yaz wasn't like that.

[color=f49ac2]"What I'm trying to say is,"[/color] he started, raising his head back up, [color=f49ac2]"that you don't need to carry that cross all by yourself. I'm not going to force you to talk if you don't want to, and if you don't want me to say anything that's cool, too. But while I may seem like a bit of a tool you should at least know that I'm a better listener than a bunch of wrenches and screwdrivers or whatever it is that you're fiddling with in your room."[/color]

Yazmin nodded briefly as she listened to Owen. She tried to ignore his initial sarcastic remark, since she knew he was just as stressed as she was. She leaned forward, pushing her half-eaten burger away. She rested her elbows against the table and placed her chin in her hands. [color=yellow]"It's not so much that I'm scared of the aliens, either... If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead... I just-"[/color] She trailed off, rubbing her metallic hand against her chin as she thought for a moment.

She reached into her pocket and produced a small steel microwrench. The tool was small - about three and a half inches long, but it could withstand a good bit of force. She wagged the wrench a couple times, then looked at Owen. She then took the wrench between her metalic fingers and palm, making a fist. She crushed the metal wrench with a bit of effort, then crumpled it into a ball shape. She dropped it on the table and sat back.

[color=yellow]"That's what I've been doing. I overrode my arm's hydraulic meters and recalibrated them several times higher than the average man. I accidentally broke the bath tub in the palace,"[/color] she stated, matter-of-factly. [color=yellow]"I was scared that Rend would try something else, so I decided I didn't want to be scared of him anymore. So... I literally made myself stronger."[/color]

She drummed her mechanical fingers against the table absently, then lay her hand flat on the table. [color=yellow]"The 'me' that I remember before all this was an angsty computer geek, barely out of her teens, with a bad case of PTSD, and now..."[/color]

She raised her hand and waved it in the air, then let her arm fall to her side. [color=yellow]"I could kill him, Owen... and part of me wants to..."[/color] she admitted. [color=yellow]"So I'm more scared of myself now."[/color]

[color=yellow]"I used to sit around and build computers but now I'm programming my arm into a weapon and thinking of the best ways to use it to kill a man that is a danger to the whole crew. All this stuff - the future, outer space, a ship, aliens..."[/color] She let out a shaky breath, looking up at Owen with glazed, misty eyes. [color=yellow]"...am I going crazy, Owen?"[/color]

He stared at the tool that Yaz had folded like a piece of origami, taking a second to carefully pick his words. Obviously, he wasn't going to say yes, partially because he didn't want to see what that arm could do to flesh and bone, but mostly because he didn't get the feeling that she was crazy. Paranoid, maybe, but not without justification. 

[color=f49ac2]"I don't think so, no,"[/color] he said with a hushed voice. [color=f49ac2]"You wouldn't bring it up if you were. We're just in a pretty insane situation full of norms that are completely different than what we're used to, so any attempt at trying to actually deal with it would strike us as absolutely nuts when, really, it isn't."[/color] Hell, Benji had gone as far as learning their language. Of course, Owen didn't mention that; the Doc was hardly a good example of good mental health.

[color=f49ac2]"But don't take that as me saying what you just said was a good idea. It's not a crazy one, sure, but it's not a good one, either. Our alien guardians are pretty quick to act up when one of does anything dangerous,"[/color] he said, glancing up at Yaz over the rim of his glasses. [color=f49ac2]"Besides, do you really think you'd be able to live with yourself if you took another's life?"[/color]

A brief shake of her head was all that Yazmin could muster. She rested both of her hands on the table. [color=yellow]"No... I - I'm not really like you guys. Echo, Tahlia, and Rend are all like machines of their own, and then you're your physically intimidating self and... I don't know, I guess I'm just shocked that thoughts like these are coming into my head all the sudden, because I've never had to think like that..."[/color] she said, though she knew it wasn't completely true. Her gaze drifted for a moment as she mentally replayed a few events from her past. When she shook the memories away, she looked back to Owen.

[color=yellow]"I guess I really don't know what's going on at all, in my mind or my surroundings. You could say I'm not the best at coping with stress... I'm kinda like that one kid in those anti-bullying ads that needed a safe-space, you know what I mean?"[/color]

She sat back with a deep sigh and rubbed the side of her jaw with her mechanical hand. She looked up at the man across the table, trying to form her thoughts into words. [color=yellow]"Do you really think that Benji knows what he's doing? Is it really a good idea to waltz into the Supreme Court of the United Galaxies like he plans to?"[/color]

A rueful smile flashed upon Owen's face as he got up and walked past Yaz. [color=f49ac2]"To be honest, I don't know,"[/color] he said with a sigh, giving her a platonic squeeze on the shoulder as he went, [color=f49ac2]"but I think it's fair to say that we've all given up the right to having good ideas the moment we signed up for this farce. Either way, you should get some sleep. I know you won't, but you should at least try. We'll talk again later."[/color]