(no subject)

[imthepilot]

Bodhi's room is simple and narrow. Nothing more than a bed, a locker, a fresher and a writing desk.

There's nothing personal here. He has nothing. Owns nothing.

Is nothing.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"How old was she?"

[imthepilot]

Bodhi strokes Myrrh who jumps up into his arms. "She was ten. I was six at the time."

[cook_the_rude]

"I am sorry."

Long pause.

"Misha was three. I was twelve."

[imthepilot]

"I'm sorry." Bodhi nods. "Were you... was she unwell?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Very bad times," Hannibal says. "It was in Soviet Russia -- a regime apparently not entirely unlike your Empire. Our parents had been killed already. I ended up in an orphanage for the next three years."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi listens, nodding and sympathetic. "You... found a way free?"

[cook_the_rude]

"My uncle, who lived in the West -- away from Russian influence -- and his Japanese partner found me and essentially bought my freedom of the Soviets," Hannibal says. "The rest of my youth, I spent with them in Paris."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi nods. "My grandmother, she came back to Jedha to find us. She... rescued my younger sisters and me."

[cook_the_rude]

"That is good," the doctor with Galen's eyes says. "What had happened to your parents?"

[imthepilot]

"My mother isn't- wasn't... her Way preferred group marriages, and communal raising of children. I don't know which of the men in that group was my father. And once weaned, mothers rarely have much to do with their children." He shrugs, eyes lowered. It's a bitterness that might never fade.

[cook_the_rude]

"It was a cult?" the doctor guesses. "How did they raise their children, if the mothers didn't?"

[imthepilot]

"Not a cult..." There's not a lot of conviction in his voice. "Just... the sort of twist of good religions you get in poor areas. Where people want to believe something that makes them feel more... in control." It's a pragmatic defence.

"The Way said that children should be raised by the community, to share the skills everyone has. But what it means in practice is roving packs of street kids that no-one takes responsibility for."

[cook_the_rude]

"While the parents are busy with The Way in order to feel more in control despite their misery?" the doctor says.

[imthepilot]

Bodhi nods, curling up tighter. "I don't know what slums are like on other worlds but..." He shrugs helplessly.

[cook_the_rude]

"Much the same," Hannibal says. "Talk to Gavroche Thénardier, if you can find him."

[imthepilot]

He nods gratefully, setting the bowl down. He hasn't eaten more than a third of it. "Thank you, for your advice."

[cook_the_rude]

"I'll leave you the food, in case you get hungry again later," the doctor with Galen's voice says. "You can re-heat the curry by putting the bowl into a larger bowl of hot water. That should be universal, unlike the microwaves and induction plates I could suggest."

[imthepilot]

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I don't mean to seem ungrateful. Sharing food is... important where I'm from. But my stomach is still... not right." Might never be right again. Like a lot of things.

[cook_the_rude]

"You had a shock," the doctor says, pouring him tea at last.

"Drink that, and then you will be able to sleep. The cat is with you, and you'll be safe, and might well wake up hungry again."

[imthepilot]

He nods and accepts the tea. "Thank you. I don't... I haven't slept much."

[cook_the_rude]

"You will now, Bodhi."

The doctor lightly touches Bodhi's shoulder, nods to him, and then quietly leaves.-

[imthepilot]

Bodhi sips the tea, nodding his thanks as the Doctor who isn't Galen lets himself out. Myrrh mews at him, headbutting him lightly at he lays down, curling up against Bodhi's chest.

Bodhi lays there a long time, waiting for the tea to do it's work. But even as his eyes finally close, they still rest on the small knife on the trolley.