chain of souls : affinity
Chapters
Chapter 01: Frye Christoph, the Killer Ostrich
Chapter 02: L'cirufe, the Jolly Xeno
Chapter 03: Neilnail, the Xeno Scholar
Chapter 04: Seer Torna, the Ares Prime Core
Chapter 05: Spica, the Beloved Miss Secretary
Chapter 06: Elma, the Team Leader
Chapter 07: Kentaro Nagi, the Defense Secretary
Chapter 08: Jack Vandham, the BLADE Commander
Chapter 09: Maurice Chausson, the Director General
Chapter 10: Phog Christoph, the Quiet One
Chapter 11: Hope Alanzi, the Kindly One
Chapter 12: Irina Akulov, the Hot Temper
Chapter 13: Gwin Evans, the Farmboy
Chapter 14: Hector Birtwhistle, the Self-Styled Elite
Chapter 15: Sharon Effinger, the Deadly One
Chapter 16: Bozé Lowes, the Ardent Monk
Chapter 17: Alexa, the Skell Nut
Chapter 18: Celica, the Xeno Girl
Chapter 19: Lao Huang, the Master Sniper
Chapter 20: Doug Barrett, the Tough Guy
Chapter 21: Mia, the Rookie
Chapter 22: Lin Lee Koo, the Genius Girl
Chapter 23: Tatsu, the Talking Potato
Chapter 24: Eleonora, the BLADE Secretary
Chapter 25: Ga Jiarg, the Wrothian Prince
Chapter 26: Yelv, the Reclaimer Pard
Chapter 27: Liesel, the Ace Test-Pilot
Chapter 28: Alois Bernholt, the Prodigal Hero
Chapter 29: Rock, the Good-Natured Gaur
Chapter 30: Lisa, the Invisible Cross
Chapter 31: Mirabilis, the Studious J-Body
Chapter 32: Melia, the Stoic Outfitter
Chapter 33: Phoebe, the Feral Curator
Chapter 34: Ga Buidhe, the Wrothian Vassal
Chapter 35: Professor B, the Plutonium Thief
Referring to Seren as both "my man" and "Lady Luck", Frye and his penchant for accidental quibbles with gendered language were the reason they'd diversified into using he/she as well. After all, what quarrel or frame of reference have they got for specifically existing outside the gender boundaries, rather than across the entire conventional spectrum at once?
Nevertheless, the Killer Ostrich can often be heard asserting that he'll follow Seren anywhere, and Seren agrees - they've followed him to places they wouldn't go with a slair, a Skell, or a supernova.
While Frye disagrees with Seren's standard choice of drink (fruity, sugary, or otherwise), he definitely appreciates their willingness to stay up with him until all hours of the night and wee morning, talking shop and a bit of philosophy about the nature of BLADE work, and what it takes to be a three-dimensional character.
L is, no holds, Seren's favorite person in the entire universe. With their complementary senses of humor and cir ever-towering horned figure looming above Seren's halo, L's the best friend a star ever had. And L vociferously agrees, always happy to greet cir "dear friend" of BLADE fame.
They make many a malaphor together, delightfully weird and wild to the consternation of all gathered; before meeting L, the rest of Elma's team had assumed that Seren was just a little bit too try-hard punny. Then the kooky hit, and there was never a hope of going back.
A beautiful, quirky scholar from another star system with a vested interest in writing poems and studying Miran language? Sign Seren up!
Due to Seren's as-yet-unconfirmed role in Mira's special "something about this planet" as concerns the universal translation of all languages spoken by the various races present thereon, they are eager to speak with Neilnail about any and all curiosities so related, and to observe sidewise when Neil seems to take a page out of L's shoes and mix up some idioms.
Above all, Neil's voice is just so pleasant, melifluous, stellar. Seren would gladly listen to them parrot on about anything whatsoever.
Seren doesn't know what it's like to have a sibling; to be joined to another by very definition in such a way that, even without the pull of gravity, the two are linked, eternally. It is situational force that binds two stars together, and if some entity or event were to rupture the proximity, the bond would be severed without hope of reconciliation.
But then, there is Seer. Throughout the course of the search for the Lifehold Core, their mutual apprehension diminished, until Seren realized that the unexpectedly pensive red star to their surprisingly unserious blue had been there all along. Another of their beloved Galactic Knights, with a love for eclectic curios and deep communication, Seer is one of Seren's most treasured allies, but they always endeavor to allow xem xer privacy and independence, never once thinking of tying him down to their team.
Spica, lovely Spica. Out of courtesy to Yelv, Seren makes a point to take their missions from and give their reports to Spica, rather than the other, usual choice of available comm-holder. That's at first, anyway, but later on, even when Yelv is taking a break, Seren makes a beeline for those tidy pink braids (alongside a soft-combed pin-gray head) somewhere in the sea of dirty blond dotting the concourse to see what surprises and sweet things Miss Secretary has in store for them today.
Seren's a long (long, long) way from being as obsessed with Elma as everyone else seems to be, and it's difficult to buck any strains of attendant, emanant guilt when all anyone talks or thinks about is all Elma, all the time. At least the colonel seems to agree, somewhat, about the rampant overemphasis of her earthside reputation. Seren has nothing against Elma personally; it's just that...isn't anybody else allowed to think around here?
That critical, skeptical opinion takes a bit of a turn when Elma reveals her true form, however, and Seren sees someone beautiful, blue, and unhomed, just like them.
(They never do tell Elma that they don't like - hate, actually - being called Rook.)
Obviously, Nagi's the real engine of NLA and what now remains of the ECP, developing strategy to pass up to Chausson and down to Vandham with just so much as a wrinkle of his brow. Seren values his input, rare and difficult as those gems may be to obtain, and keeps Nagi's peerless equanimity in mind as they make the tour of all ten battle classes. The stability of the raygun is what draws them, and it works well paired with the nimbleness of the knife, clearly. So how about the discipline of the longsword paired with the destructive unleash of the gatling gun?
Seren's lack of "real-world" hobbies, especially in comparison to other BLADEs, has them thinking about starting a knife collection, because it's good way to start branching out, and knives are small. They still haven't decided whether they want to share this burgeoning interest with Secretary Nagi, though.
Yeah, Chausson's a mook of walking red tape, complete with the tie, but Seren doesn't find him quite so vapid and corrupt-leaning as most others. How could the figurehead tell everyone what's real, all the time, without riot? Is there really any way to hold a position like that without being somewhat bloodthirsty, or else drier than Barbarich in a sandstorm? Or just plain fake. Seren's really glad Chausson's not fake, and on the odd hours that they've had the pleasure without accompaniment, he's indicated much of the same. Whatever that means, they'll never really know.
From the moment the words "goddamn magnificent" left Vandham's mouth, Seren knew they were going to like him. Not just all bluster, but all business, too. The very way he carries himself suggests that he's not much for ceremony, which suits Seren just fine. From time to time they have to hold themselves back from presenting to the commander at any and every opportunity for anything and everything he says needs doing, that they might grub just a mite closer to the effortless glory of being a post-engineering biouvac boss in clogs and cargo pants. Someday they might even coax him out into a Skell for a round!
What Seren gains in not having to make small talk with Phog, they lose when he won't start in with what he's thinking about at all, and they have to flip the script to hazard a guess. Enough of Frye's warning and waning entreaties have made an impact, though, so they're determined to keep Phog from foul. And, when it comes to sitting together in silence, Seren finds it a welcome exercise. Watching ants, birds, fish... Anything to get a little closer to Sky High.
One of Seren's many heuristics for navigating the many dialogue courses they're so blessed to have to advance through in NLA is always deferring any exchange about reward - because they really, really don't care. If there's a particular piece of casual wear to be had, they'll do what it takes to find it, but especially at first, there's no point quibbling about a few credits here, a holofigure there.
So, in this way, they get along easily with Hope, and never have to side with Ornella about sticking it to the therapy-seeking men and women of the city. Their halo, too, makes them do a little eyebrow-raising questioning of how right it can possibly be to distribute philosophical alms on the steps of a cathedral for a fee. No, Hope and Co. will happily soldier on for nothing but the thrill of it (or, rather, the resolution).
Never mind all that about a trauma they're supposed to share, Seren's just game to care for people without actually having to think about how.
Irina's anger is a fireworks show, for Seren. That wellspring of self-possession she's got is mesmerizing; to walk up to a tyrant and talk about where your mood's gonna take them? Even for the down-to-earth tryhard that Seren sees in themself, that's gutsy.
Of all the people who're goggle-eyed for Elma, Seren respects Irina's devotion the most, and they let her see it in the way they support her, tooth for nail.
Sometimes Seren suspects that they and Gwin are bound to the greatest of friends. Sometimes Seren's just glad to have a dependable colleague who'll make the occasional insightful observation and keep the Overdrive running.
One thing Seren never hears Gwin comment on is the shocking number of BLADEs, or civilian NLA residents, with siblings. Of course, there's good reason for that, but all the same, Seren wants to know what he thinks, and if he was always such a sterling young brother as he presently is.
It isn't that Seren refuses to be H.B.'s admirer and adherent, much as he would wish it. It's more that they don't really care for his achievements beyond what they bring him for his own sake. Happy for you, sure! Ready to chip in where and when needed, or politely asked. But that's the peak point of their investment.
It's a shame to have to exist in such a perpetual continuum of excellence, they suppose? Any time Seren catches Hector relaxing, he vehemently denies having any genuine interest in the activity. And that's just sad. Still, Hector can be oddly - and not only superficially - pleasant when Seren least expects it, and they're content to engage in kind, when those times come.
Murderess is a rare case where Seren's actually willing to use another individual's assumptions against them. If what Murderess wants to see is a "big, strong BLADE" who'll snidely comply with her vague requests, then that's what she'll get. Makes no never mind to me, Seren says!
Seren's command of language on Mira gives them more than a fair shot at shooting down anything over-the-top Murderess asks for, and even if they're not imposing enough in their own body to tie Murderess up and away from her nefarious ne'er-do-welling, they have backup. Maybe someday Murderess'll even be one.
Look, Seren's a pleasant person. They get along with everyone, generally, because they can and because there's no reason not to. There will be something, Seren is sure, about every one that annoys them in some insignificant fashion, so they figure it's best to let those problems alone, and focus on what is good in the interaction, the conversation, the relationship.
Bozé doesn't have any of that. Whenever he talks, Seren's in another solar system, too skeeved to even wait patiently, presently, for the time, precious time, at which he is no longer speaking. They find no value in his words, no interest in his backstory. They just want him to get away.
Seren's first impression of Alexa was sort of...passive? Those dark eyes, which didn't give much for contact, left Seren searching. The fact that Alexa wears the same unflattering BLADE Wear as to make any mechanic or AM employee invisible probably didn't help. Seren has more opinions on aesthetics than maybe they best should, but after all, here's a case where the male offering has the female beat.
Anyway, Alexa. She's bright, peppy, and hyperfixated. She's forgiving in conversation, owing to her high level of focus on her own responses, and she's not closed in her obsession; she'll try new things and take suggestions as those around her who care see fit to mention. What's not to like? So Seren's not as swiftly able to overcome first impressions as maybe they best should. It'll be okay.
Celica's a rare case where Seren really felt like grasping her hands and telling her, imploring her, all about what they once were. The forlorn way she speaks of the stars and that lost skyline of Qlu pull at what in a human would be called heartstrings, but what in a mim are only facsimile feelings.
Seren cannot remove themselves back to being as strange a stranger in a strange and stranger land as Celica is (though even she perceives L as odd and ill-functioned), but they can embrace Celica's cautious zeal for Mira, and they do, for themselves as well as for fair Celica. It's a simple joy to assist her with whatever she asks, and include her in their whims whenever she doesn't.
Seren can't say that they always saw Lao's apparent about-face coming. They can't say that they necessarily understand it, either.
Dwelling on futility, revenge, denying rebirth on a new planet for the entire remains of the race in one...
They know they can't fault him outright, but it's an uncomfortable acceptance all the same. They're also just the slightest bit spooked by his all-encompassing stillness, whether at the ready or at rest. Of course, Lao trusts Seren no more, and probably much less, than he does any other BLADE, save Lin.
It's okay. Seren can appreciate - or try to - someone with well-deserved, painfully unrecoverable secrets.
Seren and Doug see eye to eye (well, not literally) on a good number of things. Choice of pet (even if Doug likes the beagle and Seren likes the dalmatian, though they settled early on for the labrador), fairness in divvying up responsibilities, straightforward way of getting down to business, easygoing relation to change...
Doug doesn't always see the patterns that Seren does, but Seren is always happy to point them out, and even if Doug doesn't buy in, he appreciates what's - apparently - going on. He has his Harrier style, and they have their...Sirius.
Also, he's...not that tough? Not on Seren, anyway, and they don't see him that way towards his own self, nor Lao. So this part remains a mystery.
It's hard to remember patience for Mia being so utterly inept at the handling of BLADE responsibilities when it often feels like the one thing Seren came with and didn't have to fight for. However, they soon realize that Mia has the clumsiness Seren so often righteously refuses, and much less of a mind for mental mapping.
Though Seren feels a touch guilty not including Mia in their regular team, they are happy to be that number-one Chief in the barrel chamber whenever called on for a chopper's worth of aid. Mia's fervent gratitude never changes, and if she's just a little bit puppylike...well, Seren won't tell.
Seren works with Lin because they have to, at first. Everyone else marching them through their first few missions is so young-adult samey that Seren doesn't know how to handle the one child on all of Mira (or at least, that's what it feels like). They're not sure what they'd make of Lin if she didn't have a startling amount of emotional maturity, but Seren soon gets it turned around right and decides that it's Lin they've got the most to learn from out of anybody on this spectacular many-mooned rock.
Seren's sure Lin quickly noticed that their heuristic for choosing the night's meal was just proceeding in a line on their comm down the list in Lin's shared folder containing grocery lists (what otherwise would be ration requisitions), recipes, and other culinary tidbits.
The last thing on their mind when shoving this rote decision out of it was what would happen to Tatsu once Lin got wind.
Potato, potato. Maybe it's Seren's least favorite of Vandham's bits, but they go along with it, without caring very much. If Tatsu were actually in danger, then they'd act. No biggie.
(And Seren calls Tatsu Tatsu, because that is Tatsu's name. If there's a truly clever potato pun, then they employ it, with abandon.)
Seren would love to say that they read Eleonora's minor-major bout of duplicity right from the jump, in the spirit of protecting Yelv, but they're just not that good at reading people. Most of the time, they avoid having to be good, let alone that good, at reading people.
And Eleonora is, otherwise, entirely pleasant. She greets Seren with a smile, avoids terms that concern anything but the work to be done and the state of the scenario, and always offers the most interesting missions without any reservations about if it's "too tough" or alternately "tantalizing" so as to entice a lesser-statured BLADE.
Yeah, Eleonora's alright, in general - for what she is, and what she isn't. Seren can get along with that.
Ga Jiarg leaves Seren lacking for answers, most often. He speaks of a people historied by war; Seren has long watched the explosions of Earth, before they ever fell corona-first into one. He pits new change against old tradition; Seren is all of these things in one. He refers to them as "my friend" in the same breath as he suggests an idle, performative trading of blows.
Well, that's not exactly what he suggests, but that's what Seren gets from it. The gods of conflict...those gods are good to steer Seren clear of any actual argument with the contrarianly belligerent warrior prince.
Seren knows from the jump that Yelv's memory issues are different to theirs. To start, they know without having to know that there was no prior Earth life, for them, no matter what anyone (cough, Elma) says. It's fun to game around with the questions folks ask about the old country - it's not lying if it can't have ever been true, is it?
But Yelv's not quite that way. That is, he doesn't always win, with his sarcasm. His wounds are much closer to the surface than Seren's supermassive underdepth. What he needs, Seren deduces (and is it so horrible, to deduce?) is passive support, so they take their silent protagonist role and roll with it.
"Hey, you're a star, Pard!"
Yeah. That's where it's at.
Despite some awkward moments owing to Liesel's blunt European nature and absolute gravity taking centrehold of a conversation, her hot pink undercut and passively-aggressive vocal fry have Seren inexorably charmed and envious.
Her habit of totaling Skells instead of ever, ever jumping out, however? Seren can't admit to being pleased, even if they've tried their best to make their barracks a little more like home (and that home is clean, effortless whites and blues). All this talk of test data from battles, and nothing about the poor mechanics that have to repair the same damn Hraesvelg over, and over, and over...
Good thing it's not still in development and they can actually afford to have it standard shop serviced, at all.
There's no way around it: Alois Bernholt's spectacular share of neurodivergence is simply not compatible with Seren's. They clash over little things, a battle of bristly and impotent awkwardness, yet Al is the one who's most open about the thing that draws Seren to humanity: the sheer depth and possibility carried by the concept, the spirit and the active phenomenon, of love.
Sometimes Seren feels that they're too much, but then they see Al laying a hen's nest over pepperoni pizza. It's an opportunity to be helpful, and gracious, and they take it, but they don't let up on their matter-of-fact teasing of the hero come landed from the rift.
What can Seren say about the newest and biggest resident of NLA besides that they're beyond thrilled to have Rock here? For one thing, it's just fantastic in itself to be able to climb a mountain that moves!
Well, alright. So Seren has the good grips to realize that it's not polite, actually, to treat well-meaning people like a walking rock wall. But Seren does so dearly love the experience of walking down the streets of the Industrial District watching each miniature movement of mimeosome with their own (mimeosome) eyes, and not through the visor of a Skell. They're always game to be creative with tasks Rock can take on, and if they can be Rock's first foreign friend in the city, that's definitely a plus.
Seren is blissfully lucky never to have to contend with the human concept of embarrassment - only that second-hand, and only that occasionally (they travel with L, after all). And it's not that they instinctually pin Lisa's reticence and desire to remain hidden on something shameful, rather than a personal choice, but if that's the way it is, so be it! Seren will take the glory for both of them. In turn, Lisa helps teach Seren how to slow down and wind down, enjoy a calm cup of plain herbal tea. Maybe even get their face out of the limelight once in a while.
It takes a bit for Seren to get to grips with Mimi's relentless onslaught of teasing, and for them to realize that they won't get anywhere muttering under their breath. Since Mimi's ears were lost post-adolescence (as much of one, it turns out, as she even ever had), her voice has only the slightest warble, so Seren sometimes forgets her handicap and subsequent superpower.
The two make a task of acclimatizing together, and though Seren can feel guilty taking time away from Yelv, they know that there are a handful of the activities catching Mimi's interest that their mostly-mutual pard just won't go for.
The curious thing about Melia is that where most BLADEs who act standoffish will quickly convince Seren to keep their distance, and let it alone, Seren flatters themself able to tell that there's a kind, warm soul beneath the stern expression, smartly perched glasses, and love of the cold not found anywhere on Mira, save with a certain Ms. Effinger.
Seren the Star doesn't really know how to burn cold. They can only offer their own sometime-bubbly personality and see what comes back - their offbeat back-pocket comment about the lack of BLADE division to handle wildlife just about does the trick.
Seren's relationship with Deeby can best be described as an orevein of awestruck chariness. How they manage to do, see, and collect so much with so much energy and flexibility, then retire to her own space (or run away to Oblivia, more like) and disappear for a few days, is mystifying to even the most amped-up of stars on surveying days. Every week, there's another piece of news about a crazy Ghostwalker on the loose.
There's also the thing about Deeby's eyes being beadily, shadily impossible to see, most of the time - Seren has to admit to the irony, versus their own vitiligo. But Deeby's better a powerful ally than an enemy, for sure, so Seren does their best to keep up.
Seren's a dog person. The Wrothians haven't done much to change that. It doesn't feel great to take such misanthropy - because it's not really xenophobia, you see? - about a specific one of the refugee races, when Seren has found such great success and rapport with the Prone, the Ma-non, the Orphe, the Zaruboggan, and even the Nopon, to an extent. It's not the targeting of the Vita, the recalcitrance, the ambush, the similarity to the inferior barracks pet that insists on licking its own ass; none of that.
The air of intractable superiority wafting off of Ga Buidhe's red spear is what pushes Seren away. Even though her prince has consented to consort with other races, Buidhe remains somewhere north of firm, unyielding, disinterested. Perhaps disapproving, even disdainful.
Maybe another would admire this. Maybe Seren should. But they'll stick with their own L, thanks.
More than just desperately interested to learn how to pronounce - that is, how to fit their incapable mimeosome mouth around - the bizarre words that Professor B speaks, Seren hopes to find a way, through B's survehicular technology, to travel back to the time when Sirius still hung above Earth, brighter than anything, unimpeachable in its superplanetary fame.
Perhaps thirty, fifty, one-hundred years...perhaps nothing so exact. Surely, somewhen, they could find their old nearest neighbor, at the very least to take one last wistful glance.
Wup, wup. Professor B has just enough patience to listen to the winsome tale, and then the Miramobile disappears in an up-combusted trail of topaz wine.