Isolation works wonders for keeping some of the usual nonsense outside their door, but it also makes it difficult to understand when something usual (outside of the Aurora, which is hard to ignore) is happening in the world around them. This time Crozier doesn't realize anything's amiss, and goes through his usual schedule of chores and some light work outside before returning to the hearth to work on a supper for him and Ram.
He hears the door swing open and Rama step inside, immediately turning around from the pan to greet him. The fish continues to sizzle as he quietly stares and rises to his feet, mouth opening in confusion and a small twinge of something else he can't quite name -- he's wearing...what is he wearing? Why is he wearing that?
His eyes look down at the shining boots that hug his lower legs, the fit trousers, the tight, well-tailored jacket adorned with medals and a smart-looking gold braid slung over his chest. A pistol at his side, the medallions and crown - mirroring in many ways a marine or an officer's dress uniform. It makes him think of the heavy epaulets Jopson used to have to strap to his shoulders before command meetings. The uniform, so out of place and yet clearly familiar to Ram, is so distracting that he almost doesn't notice the shaven beard.
He looks so different, so unlike himself. He can't imagine what a smile would look like on his handsome face, not while wearing that blood-red jacket. He closes his mouth, licking his lips idly as he pulls the pan off the fire and takes a few tentative steps towards him.
Ram looks so handsome in that uniform. So put-together, so controlled, so measured, so unlike the man he's come to love. He has the sudden, surprising urge to hit that chiseled, uniformed man across the face, get that red-coat down onto his knees in front of him and...
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-07-31 03:01 am (UTC)Isolation works wonders for keeping some of the usual nonsense outside their door, but it also makes it difficult to understand when something usual (outside of the Aurora, which is hard to ignore) is happening in the world around them. This time Crozier doesn't realize anything's amiss, and goes through his usual schedule of chores and some light work outside before returning to the hearth to work on a supper for him and Ram.
He hears the door swing open and Rama step inside, immediately turning around from the pan to greet him. The fish continues to sizzle as he quietly stares and rises to his feet, mouth opening in confusion and a small twinge of something else he can't quite name -- he's wearing...what is he wearing? Why is he wearing that?
His eyes look down at the shining boots that hug his lower legs, the fit trousers, the tight, well-tailored jacket adorned with medals and a smart-looking gold braid slung over his chest. A pistol at his side, the medallions and crown - mirroring in many ways a marine or an officer's dress uniform. It makes him think of the heavy epaulets Jopson used to have to strap to his shoulders before command meetings. The uniform, so out of place and yet clearly familiar to Ram, is so distracting that he almost doesn't notice the shaven beard.
He looks so different, so unlike himself. He can't imagine what a smile would look like on his handsome face, not while wearing that blood-red jacket. He closes his mouth, licking his lips idly as he pulls the pan off the fire and takes a few tentative steps towards him.
Ram looks so handsome in that uniform. So put-together, so controlled, so measured, so unlike the man he's come to love. He has the sudden, surprising urge to hit that chiseled, uniformed man across the face, get that red-coat down onto his knees in front of him and...
Oh.