It was another one of those nights. When you woke up from a horrible dream, sweat beading down your brow. Your heart rate quickening to an unreasonable rate. The dream still stuck out in your memory, sticking out like a sore thumb. These kinds of nights weren’t exactly rare. In fact, they had become quite common for our pilot. Dreams of friends lost, territory lost, the sounds of war. As if the pervasiveness of war invaded even your dreams. Even in the most private domain of your head, where you thought you were safe, what you ran from seeps into your very thoughts. That’s how it was for Megumi, a young Capsuleer nestled somewhere in one of the Jita stations. Almost every night was like this. It was an eternal cycle of drinking herself to sleep, then waking up from a nightmare. Usually followed by a bout of smoking. Being a Capsuleer, an immortal god, one didn’t have to worry about petty things like lung cancer. Those things were beneath her. Mortal things.
It was the same dream as before. That damned one where she called back to those losses in her wormhole. It was something she thought about constantly. The faces of those crewmen lost, the personnel that were with her when the Citadel fell. While Megumi manage dot escape via Pod, none of the rest of the crew were as lucky. Death rates were just about a hundred percent. As high as it went. It couldn’t get any higher, really. Just about every man, woman, and child stationed in their hole had perished. And, after all these years, there had been no recourse. No just action, no revenge. Nothing had been done to honor their names. Those men had no funeral, only letters home telling their family that they had passed. Megumi had never gotten revenge for those pilots either. Attempts at it hadn’t worked, always falling flat in one way or another.
The poor girl sat there in her bed, head held in her hands. Tears streamed down her face while she recalled everything. Every vivid detail of the dream. Those losses stung, even if she was a Capsuleer. She wasn’t supposed to feel a damn thing. Her peers expected her to be stalwart, stone-faced at this loss. As if it was absolutely nothing. Like she was above them in every way. A veritable god. Those people had no idea what it was like, they viewed killing as sport. As something to do when you were bored or needed money. Megumi had never dehumanized herself to that point, or gotten to the period where lives lost no longer mattered.
A shower. That’s what was needed. A long, warm shower. Jita offered absolutely fantastic water, and practically unlimited heat. While they smelt like sulfur, they still felt nice. So, Cycle rose out of her bed, naked as the day she was born. First she sat on the edge of her bed, inspecting the space around her. It was dark, but she was knowledgeable enough about her surroundings to make her way to the bathroom. The room was utterly silent, besides the creaking of the bed, as the pilot stood up. Woozily stumbling, it took a moment for the Capsuleer to catch herself. It took even longer for her to gain a proper footing and stand up straight. Megumi never was a balanced woman, and being in complete darkness didn’t help matters.
One step. Then two. Slowly, she made her way across the carpet. Despite being completely alone, the girl seemed to be trying her best to be silent. As if there was another person in the room with her. With each step she became more and more confident in her ability to walk correctly. Soon she was walking just fine, and was well on her way towards the bathroom. Then, it hit. Her lack of balance struck back with a vengeance and she tripped over herself, falling to the floor with a loud bang. Loud noises, the entire thing she was trying to avoid, filled up the room. Knick Knacks from her desk rolled onto the floor with loud thuds. They’d have to be picked up in the morning, when Megumi had light.
Megumi scrambled upwards, clawing towards anything that’d help her get up. It only took a moment for her to find her desk. She grabbed onto her keyboard, as if that would help, only for her to fall back down. Of course, dragging the keyboard with her, and thus a slew of other things. Things were looking bad, with the pilot sitting there covered in empty beer bottles and a keyboard. Luckily for her, however, the automatic lights finally decided to kick on. They were faulty and barely worked so it was no surprise to Megumi that it took as long as they did to turn on.
What the lights revealed wasn’t a pretty site. In fact, it was absolutely horrid. Random pieces of clothing sat strewn about the room, along with empty alcohol bottles and shot glasses. Her bed was covered in undergarments and a few shirts. Her couch was littered with manga and high-definition anime cases. The walls were drearily painted, a nasty green on some walls and a dark blue on the others. Along the walls were various posters showing off your typical Caldari animation flick. It was the den of an absolute degenerate who didn’t have their life together.
Rolling to the side to get the items that had fallen on her off, she pulled herself up using her chair and stood on her feet. A wave of sickness hit her, and the girl wanted to double over and vomit. She was still drunk. Like every other day, she had gotten absolutely shitfaced just a few hours before going to bed. It was a miracle her floors weren’t dirtied with vomit. It would only make the room smell worse, and it was bad enough just being occupied by a person who showered every other week.
A walk. That’s what she needed. To walk through the halls of the station. Maybe stop by and see some sights, or get some noodles from one of the local Udonge stores if they were still open. They probably weren’t, but it was worth seeing if at least one was still serving this late at night. Megumi was naked, but a quick patrol around the room fixed that. It wasn’t exactly hard to snatch up a few pieces of clothing. She wasn’t necessarily picky about what she chose, settling on grey sweatpants that were stained with what looked like pizza and a black shirt she had sweated her ass off in. Megumi could go without socks for now .Those weren’t quite as important and they’d have taken too long for a spur of the moment thing. Instead, she simply jammed her feet into her worn down tennis shoes. It was uncomfortable but it’d have to do.
What wouldn’t be so easy was the fact that it’d been a few days since Megumi had stepped outside. The idea of being seen by other human beings rapidly hit her, and her stomach dropped. It felt as if she’d throw up again. The girl steeled herself, throwing those thoughts aside. It was healthy to go outside. Everyone did it, even the most depressed of people. Surely she could handle a quick step outside.