Sailing the Skies with my Endergirl 4 (Patreon)

Commissioned by InfiniteChaosRai

Sailing the Skies with my Endergirl

Chapter 4

-VB-

“You’re up.”

She had no name. Her people did not place an importance on them, and all of them were born fully independent, aware, and, most importantly, apathetic to each other. 

After all, what else would monsters be if not uncaring of their own kind? 

She knew, instinctively, that her people used to be something greater. Something better. But whatever that had been was now buried beneath this layer of … otherness. 

And had she not run into her Beloved, she might have lived and died in that apathetic state. 

But she met him, and through him and his means, she found out - no, learned to feel - that there was something more to life than just the apathetic nothingness. 

He blinked. 

She could only see half of his face underneath her breasts with his head resting on her laps. 

He took a deep breath in and got up, barely brushing her breasts with his hair. Instead of standing up and leaving to do whatever it was that always kept him busy, he sat next to her for a while with a blank face. But his purple wings puffed and fluttered a bit before settling down. His fur, covering all of him, also poofed up a little before settling back down.

“Do you know my name?” he suddenly asked. 

She looked at him in surprise. 

This was … the first time he asked that question. 

“No. You are just my Beloved.”

“... I see,” he replied quietly. “My name is …” he paused. “It’s Jeremy.”

“Jeremy,” she rolled the name in her mouth and on her tongue. 

She smiled. 

“Hello, Jeremy. Did you have a nice sleep?” 

“I did,” he replied as he turned to look at her. As always, he had to look up at her. “... How long has it been?”

“Since you fell asleep?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been three hours.”

“... huh.” He sounded surprised, though his blank face didn’t change even as he turned away from her. “Twelve… three… factor… four?” he muttered to himself after looking away. 

She wished he would look at her more like that. Jeremy from before and Jeremy in front of her were different. Less cold. More here. 

“J…eremy?” she called hesitantly.

He turned to look at her again. 

When his eyes were on her, it made her feel fuzzy. 

She liked it. 

She smiled. 

“So what will you be doing now?” she asked him. “Mining or building like you usually do?”

“You remember what I did?”

She nodded. Of course, she did. She followed him around when she could. Watching him was one of the few things she made a conscious choice to do after she became more like him and less a monster. 

Freedom, she’d learned, was best used on small things like that. 

She smiled. 

Having his attention was already making her happier than when she simply had his sleeping head on her lap. 

“I see. What was I like?”

She blinked. 

That was an odd question. 

“Silent. Industrious. Always looking for something to do.”

He snorted. “I guess I was. Still am,” he muttered. He looked around and found a clock. “8 p.m., huh?” Then his stomach growled. He looked down and didn’t say anything for a while. He took out a golden carrot and ate it on the spot without thinking. Then he paused. He looked at her and brought out another golden carrot. He extended it to her.

She happily took it and nibbled on it.

Yes.

She was happy. 

-VB-

Jeremy really was envious that he was not there on Earth Bet himself, no matter what might happen in its future. 

Because even if he didn’t survive Golden Morning, he would at least die happy.

She looked happy when he shared a golden carrot. It was odd how she could be both simple and endearing. 

Or maybe it was just he who had overly exaggerated expectations. 

Whatever the case was, he now needed to talk to the PRT people. 

And if he was right, that meant that he would most likely talk with Director Piggot with Armsmaster or Deputy Director Renick with Armsmaster. 

He got his character to stand up and walked out of the room with the Endergirl.

It was here that he forgot to ask.

“Do you have a name?” he asked her through the microphone after turning to her underneath the doorway. 

She looked surprised at his question. 

“No.”

“... Would you like one?” 

She nodded vigorously. 

He looked at her. How she looked almost innocent in contrast to her voluptuous figure and overbearing height. She wore a dark purple one piece dress that didn’t cling to her body like a fetishist’s dream but still kept to her form enough to give anyone looking a decent image of what could be beneath them. At the same time, she also wore a dark blue denim crop jacket. There was certainly a clash of messages and identity there… if the Endergirl was a normal girl. 

Would it be ironic if he gave her a name that had nothing to do with that? 

“Cattleya. It means queen.” He was summarizing the name a lot. For one, the name came from an orchid. Two, it meant less queen and more beauty and elegance. And as beautiful as his Endergirl was, she was neither queen nor elegant. Simple in her attractiveness and demeanor. 

She hummed. “Cattleya,” she repeated the word. Then she nodded. “I am Cattleya.”

It was good that she seemed to like the name. 

“Alright. Let’s go talk to the locals.”

-VB-

When he received the news that the unknown had woken up and walked around the base’s corridors, Colin stopped writing the latest line of code and moved to put on his more “casual” outfit: a PRT uniform dyed with his colors and his helmet. 

After putting them on, he wove his way through his workshop before leaving the room and walked into the hallways. 

“Where?” he asked the console. 

“On the first floor of the Rig with his partner. Nearing cafeteria.”

“Understood.”

And he made his way toward the stated location. 

He had no opinion about the two unknown parahumans, but he did have some assessment of them. Neither were “normal” capes; the woman was too tall and the man appeared to be a Case-53, though he claimed to have his memories. The woman was a teleporting Mover while the man was a Shaker/Striker; the giant rectangle of obsidian he built on the road was not only proving to be difficult to remove but also time consuming. Moving it by brute force was slow and tedious and attempting to lift or chip away at it was even worse. Despite the fact that obsidian was volcanic glass that should not be able to resist fracturing under assaults with steel tools, they did. It was only when diamond tipped tools were brought out that they made progress. 

Colin was very interested in such materials. 

His footsteps’ thumps echoed around the hallway and down the stairs as he got closer to the cafeteria. 

And when he entered it, he found himself with a sight he didn’t expect.

The still unnamed woman and man were eating and seemed very happy about merely eating. 

No. It was actually the woman who was experiencing higher dopamine levels. The man did not appear to be. In fact, he ate methodically in line and rhythm with what the woman was doing. His face remained neutral, and no other body part showed movements that might express joy. 

Was he like Weld? It was possible, but speculation without evidence pointing to possibility was wasted energy and time. 

“Obsidian. Gether.”

His call got the man to stop. 

“Obsidian?” he repeated. 

“That is the PRT’s current codename for you.”

The man snorted. “I’m Jeremy, not Obsidian.”

“Capes are given cape names,” Colin replied evenly as he came around to sit across from them. While this was not an ideal setting for an interview, he read that moving people away from their preferred place and activity will decrease cooperation. “Do you have a name you would like to use?” He also read that giving people a chance to make their decision increased cooperation, which he knew to be true considering his years of record collaborating with such a statement. 

“Jeremy” looked at him, still keeping that neutral face on. “I think… Rail would fit me most.”

“Rail?”

“Rail. I have a habit of putting down railways everywhere when I’m not making airships.”

“You are a Tinker?”

“Rail” paused. “I suppose you could call me a Tinker, yes. I actually have everything I need on  me to make an airship.”

Colin was now very interested. 

“And what kind of airships do you make? What are their fuels? Airtime?”

He and Rail got into the details. 

And ideas began to roll away in Colin’s head.