“Wolfie, I have a request.”
Silver Wolf turns her chair around to show she's listening and takes a swig of the can on her desk.
Kafka's silhouette is illuminated by the screens to Silver Wolf's sides and even if Silver Wolf can't see her face clearly, what she can see is enough for her.
“Can you make me pregnant?”
Silver Wolf spits the entire drink and it's a miracle she wasn't facing her monitors (any of her many monitors) or they would have gotten covered in soda.
“What?!”
Maybe she should turn on a desk lamp or something, maybe then she would have been able to see Kafka was up to something, maybe not...
“...Using your Aether editing, is it possible?” Kafka clarifies.
“My... Aether Editing... ?” Silver Wolf repeats, still reeling from the request to make Kafka pregnant.
“Is it too hard, Wolfie?” Kafka asks and her voice sounds taunting even if Silver Wolf isn't sure that's her intent. “I'm sorry for asking,” she adds sounding only very slightly apologetic.
“N-no, it's not like it's hard, it's just...”
Silver Wolf takes a second to take deep breaths. Her heart is still beating so hard because, why can't Kafka ask things normally instead of dropping the requests like throwing live grenades her way?
“Wolfie?”
Silver Wolf tenses and tries to focus on cleaning with tissues the mess she made by spitting her drink, hopefully it won't get sticky.
“Talk to me, Wolfie,” Kafka requests in that soft tone that makes Silver Wolf both relax and tense. “You don't think I'll look good if I get pregnant?” she asks while idly sliding a hand up and down her abdomen and she must be doing this on purpose, because the mental image is making Silver Wolf short circuit. She needs to cut the words before Kafka keeps dishing them out.
“N-no, I'd think you'd rock that look too, it's just...”
What is it about this that she doesn't like? It doesn't really have to do with Kafka...
“Wolfie...”
“I'm not comfortable, doing something like that to y-you, to your body.”
Because no matter how good she is at Aether Editing, this feels like a step too far.
Kafka nods.
“What do you have to get pregnant for, anyway?” Silver Wolf asks, trying to sound annoyed as she pretends to check if the floor and her table are clean.
“Oh, I don't haveto, I just need a kid, but I can't just kidnap one, Elio said we might need to raise one, you know, for the script,” Kafka explains placing a hand on Silver Wolf's desk and leaning some of her weight on it.
“So build one from scratch? I can do that, kinda, I don't need to m-make you pregnant,” Silver Wolf stutters as she swivels in her chair to look towards her screens.
Kafka smiles and gives Silver Wolf a kiss on the cheek.
“I knew I could count on you, my sweet Wolfie.”
Silver Wolf lets out a breath she had no idea she was holding once Kafka moves away.
“But, for the record, if I was pregnant and it happened to be yours, I wouldn't mind that one bit.”
Now Kafka is definitely teasing and Silver Wolf has no time to play that game with her. They won't get anything done like that.
“Did Elio give you any specs for the kid?” she asks, trying to go back to business-mode and Kafka backs down almost immediately.
“Here,” she pulls a yellow manila folder from somewhere behind her and places it down on the desk next to Silver Wolf's keyboard.
Silver Wolf tenses a bit, expecting Kafka to do something else while they’re close, but she's almost disappointed when Kafka doesn't.
Instead, Kafka moves away to sit on one of the extra gaming chairs Silver Wolf has next to her desk.
No one can make sitting on a gaming chair look as dignified as Kafka. She crosses her legs, folds her hands over her knees and leans a bit forward. It looks so elegant it makes Silver Wolf's mouth dry.
So before Kafka’s appearance can affect her even more, she turns to the side and opens the folder, quickly scanning its contents.
The message is clear enough. Their next big script calls for a vessel to hold... a Stellaron.
Silver Wolf’s eyebrows rise and she can’t stop the amazed whistle from leaving her lips.
Kafka broadly explains the details of the child they need to create and Silver Wolf only nods as she reads along, asking questions here and there and by the end she's locked on.
Let’s get this baby-making task on the road. This particular run with a 100% less pregnancy.
Bottom line is, they need a sentient person to hold the Stellaron, Silver Wolf is confident in her own abilities, but that also means she's very aware of her limits, so as she opens her programs and tools she'll need for the task, she turns towards Kafka.
“I've programmed A.I. before, I can make bots talk like they're alive, and I can make the vessel look human, but it won't be real, organic life is a bit outside of my realm,” Silver Wolf states dryly and only Kafka is cunning enough to catch the insecurity seeping through Silver Wolf's tone.
“Leave that to me, I'm confident enough I can do something with my Spirit Whisper, and Elio said he can handle the rest, you just need to worry about making the body, leave the rest to us,” Kafka assures, her words low and velvety against Silver Wolf's ears.
Silver Wolf's shoulders relax considerably at that.
“Then I'll get to work right away.”
Her eagerness makes Kafka smile.
As expected of Elio, the specs for the Stellaron vessel are as detailed as Silver Wolf needs, every question Silver Wolf might have is already answered in the document.
Kafka can't assist much during this process, but Silver Wolf has always appreciated her company even if they're just sharing space in silence.
But Kafka wouldn’t be Kafka if she wasn’t trying to put on a show while doing even the most mundane of tasks. And, truly, Silver Wolf wouldn’t have it any other way, but she wouldn’t be Silver Wolf if she didn’t act at least a little bit annoyed at it.
Once Silver Wolf has finished her can of soda, Kafka places a new one on her empty hand, but she also slides her hands through Silver Wolf’s arms and leans on her back as she opens the can for her.
The huff Silver Wolf lets out is heavy and more shaky than she would have wanted. Kafka hums and looks at her expectantly, but saying anything would just give Kafka the upper hand.
This is only part of the games they like to play and Silver Wolf is more than happy to counter in her own way. So she ignores Kafka’s advances and keeps working like nothing happened.
Of course, this only emboldens Kafka and makes her want to try even harder. Aside from bringing new cans of beverage, she also helps clean the sweat off Silver Wolf’s face and hands periodically and she even offers to use her chest to warm up Silver Wolf's cold hands.
Silver Wolf declines without even thinking if Kafka is teasing her or not. It doesn't matter. Their game carries on.
“How much control will we have over their strengths and weaknesses?”
As Silver Wolf is taking a moment to stretch her arms, Kafka leans forward and asks. Her eyes looking at the rows upon rows of code running through the screens. Silver Wolf isn’t sure if Kafka understands any of it, but in the end it’s of little importance.
“We might start with absolute control, but as time goes by, that control will probably fade away,” she explains.
“How exciting,” Kafka mutters as she smiles. As always, the smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but Silver Wolf can tell this genuinely excites Kafka. “Humans are such fascinating creatures, don’t you think?”
Others would be put off by Kafka’s apparent aloofness to humans, almost as if she herself isn’t one. But not Silver Wolf.
Honestly, Silver Wolf can kind of understand. She is sure she herself is human, but there has always been like a barrier between her and others, a barrier that used to make her feel disconnected, like a secret everyone but her knew.
And it used to be annoying and alienating, that was, until meeting Kafka. She likes how being with Kafka makes her feel less weird. A connection with someone that seems to understand how it feels to be different, and instead of feeling isolated, it feels nice to be alone together with her.
Back to Kafka’s question, she really isn’t sure how to answer, but in the end she decides to be a bit ambiguous and playful with her answer.
“I’ve seen better,” she replies with a shrug.
Kafka huffs but a smile blooms on her face. Success! Silver Wolf mentally pumps her fist in the air before picking up the folder and focusing again on the document in her hands.
“According to this info, the Stellaron might modify parts of the vessel, and Elio expects that they will grow into their own person, but we can set their base stats and set parameters for some stat growths, the rest would be up to them and in the long run, it might change depending on what kind of person they turn out to be,” Silver Wolf explains putting down the folder.
“So, you’re saying we may not have control over the kind of person they become in the end?”
“Yep, but isn’t that the fun part?” Silver Wolf asks, her eyes shining with mischief. “If it worries you too much I can make sure to set some parameters, just so they are lines that cannot be crossed,” she reassures.
“I’ll leave that to you, then,” Kafka says, understanding shining in her eyes.
“Anything in particular you would like me to hard code into them?”
Kafka looks thoughtful for several seconds and suddenly a spark of something shines in her eyes.
“I have a request,” she says resolutely.
But the moment Silver Wolf’s big gray eyes are on her, Kafka hesitates. It’s not very obvious and it’s not as uncommon as one might think when thinking about Kafka, but Silver Wolf notices and she takes note of it.
It amuses Silver Wolf even if she barely reacts on the outside. She just nods, but her cool eyes are incredibly focused on Kafka.
“I want them to be strong enough to protect themself and others,” Kafka states and then after a brief pause, she adds. “Strong enough to push destiny forward.”
Silver Wolf raises her eyebrows but says nothing. Ambitious, but it’s probably doable. But it’s also not what Kafka wanted to say. Silver Wolf notices, but decides not to point it out.
And when Kafka doesn’t add anything else, Silver Wolf doesn’t push.
“Can do, something else?” she asks simply.
“How about physical appearance?”
“I can set base values for an approximation, but I'm giving priority to values that might help them host a Stellaron the most,” Silver Wolf explains giving another look at the documents detailing all that.
“Of course, I just meant something more... superficial, like clothes... looks...” Kafka trails off and Silver Wolf raises her gaze, looking thoughtful.
“We do have some leisure when it comes to cosmetic mods, but I don't see too much value in focusing on those,” she states.
“Notfocusing, but, you know, some slight changes to make them more than justa vessel,” Kafka explains hoping Silver Wolf can understand where she’s coming from.
“I guess things like hair and eye color might be harmless enough to tamper with,” Silver Wolf mutters to herself.
Kafka nods before picking a loose strand of Silver Wolf's hair between her fingers.
“I like your hair, can you make it similar?”
“I-I can try,” Silver Wolf breaths out.
“Also, your eyes,” Kafka adds, her piercing gaze focusing on the smaller woman.
“My eyes?”
“Yes, I like them.”
Silver Wolf shrugs.
“It's not much, yours are prettier.”
“So you like my eyes?”
“I didn't say that,” Silver Wolf replies, only because being silent or agreeing would give Kafka ammunition she doesn't need.
“My eye color is too distinctive, I don't think it might be good enough to help them blend in,” Kafka says suddenly serious. It seems she’s all back to business for now.
“I can give her the shape of my eyes if that's what you want, but my eye color too is a bit...”
“I agree, I love your eyes, but they are only yours, Wolfie, I'd like if they remained unique,” Kafka assures in a soft whisper.
“How about gold for the eyes?”
“Gold?
“My eyes are silver, theirs can be gold, y’know, like the Stellaron,” Silver Wolf explains.
Kafka looks slightly stunned for a fraction of a second before a relaxed smile blooms on her face.
“Wolfie, I love talking to you, you have always the most amusing ideas.”
“Thanks...” she states, before hesitating. “I think?”
The conversation fizzles out after that, and Silver Wolf turns towards her screens again to resume her coding.
Kafka hums some songs to fill the silence as she looks over Silver Wolf’s work. Silver Wolf isn’t sure if Kafka understands a fraction of what she’s doing, but she looks entertained and that’s enough to make her feel reassured.
Soon enough, she’s too focused on her work to even register Kafka is around, and while usually that would be unadvised, Kafka behaves and doesn’t take advantage of Silver Wolf having her guard down.
“I still have loads of things to adjust, but I'm done with the first draft,” she announces stretching her arms and back with a couple of satisfactory pops that make her sigh.
Kafka nods as she stands up from the chair, moving closer to Silver Wolf.
“What do you think?” Silver Wolf asks, offering Kafka a hard-light holographic screen. In there, a 3D model of a person in a T pose is displayed.
With gray hair and golden eyes.
“Can we give her a coat, Wolfie?” Kafka asks, a teasing smile on her lips.
“Already ahead of ya,” Silver Wolf replies enthusiastically.
She turns towards her keyboard and presses a couple of keys. A model of a coat appears over the body and Kafka is a bit speechless. Because she didn't expect Wolfie to anticipate her that well.
And the coat is not bad, it's a bit more Kafka's style, longer and a bit more elegant than the coats Silver Wolf favors, that cannot be a coincidence.
And the half tucked shirt and the gloves... Kafka cannot help but smile at every little detail.
“Do you think she would look well with some sunglasses?” Kafka suddenly asks and it dawns on Silver Wolf that both her and Kafka use them, even if it is for different reasons.
“I did think about that before, but I don’t think it looked good.”
Again, Silver Wolf clicks a couple of things and types something and a variety of different kinds of glasses appear over a screen full of identical headshots of the vessel.
Kafka hums and shakes her head. “Your judgement was correct, Wolfie, it doesn’t feel like it fits,” Kafka replies thoughtful.
Silver Wolf smiles, pleased that her hard work and choices are to Kafka’s liking.
“I think we should give her a name,” Kafka says suddenly, after several seconds of admiring Silver Wolf's work.
“Your decision,” Silver Wolf says with a shrug, but she doesn't look uninterested. It's more the gaze of someone that trusts Kafka enough to give her the honor of choice.
Kafka smiles, a hand sliding over the side of Silver Wolf's face, with a tenderness that can only be read as gratitude.
Silver Wolf relaxes under the touch and against her wishes, a sigh leaves her lips.
If Kafka notices, she doesn't point it out.
“How about Stelle?” Kafka whispers.
“Really?” Silver Wolf questions, a raised eyebrow and all. “You're calling the Stellaron receptacle Stelle?”
“Why not? It's a nice name,” Kafka insists, only a bit surprised at Silver Wolf's rebuttal.
The corner of Silver Wolf's lips lifts a bit in a lopsided smile and her gaze softens.
“Well, it doesn't matter what I think, I did leave the choice up to you,” Silver Wolf says leaning back against her chair and popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “She's your child now,” she adds playfully dismissive.
“Our child, Wolfie, ours, I wouldn't be able to do it without you,” Kafka replies and surprises Silver Wolf by sitting sideways on Silver Wolf's lap as her arms surround Silver Wolf's neck.
Silver Wolf almost inhales the gum with a sharp gasp and suddenly she can't breathe very well, but Kafka isn't particularly crushing her lungs or anything, shes' just sitting on her legs and leaning a bit of comfortable weight on her.
“Say it,” Kafka whispers.
There's no way for Silver Wolf to find anything snarky to say, this time Kafka wins their little game and Silver Wolf isn't even mad she might have lost.
“O-okay, yeah, s-she's ours.”
After a couple of days of working tirelessly on coding the vessel, Kafka decides to make sure Silver Wolf goes to sleep and rests for more than just a couple of hours. Her plan to achieve that? By cuddling her in bed.
At first Silver Wolf complains, but it’s nothing more than token resistance before allowing Kafka to pull her to bed.
Surrounded by the warmth of Kafka’s arms and the soft bed-sheets it’s far too easy for her eyes to close and her body to relax, and in record time she’s already halfway to the sleep world.
“Wolfie, are you awake?” Kafka asks, her voice very quiet.
She sounds weirdly insecure and a tad shy. So Silver Wolf does her best to reply. The best her body can do on such short notice is a little sleepy hum that makes Kafka laugh a bit.
But then Kafka says nothing else. Silver Wolf fights against her closing eyelids but it’s already a loosing battle. And just when she’s almost sure Kakfa won’t talk again is when Kafka chooses to strike.
“I want her to be more like you,” Kafka says and it sounds like an incomplete idea, like the words that slip out of her mouth without her actually wanting to say it out loud.
Even with sleep debuffing her brain, it’s not hard for Silver Wolf to guess Kafka is talking about the Stellaron Vessel. And once she’s more awake she’ll come to the conclusion that these words are the words Kafka didn’t say before when she said she had a request for the vessel.
“More like me?” Silver Wolf playfully scoffs, her voice slow and raspy with tiredness. “Are you sure you want two of me running around and being annoying?”
Kafka laughs, very, verysoftly and Silver Wolf hopes that in the dark, Kafka can’t notice how much that laugh makes her shiver.
“I wouldn't mind that,” Kafka mutters lovingly, her arms tightening around Silver Wolf.
And Silver Wolf allows her body to relax once more in that secure embrace.
“But that's not what I meant,” Kafka adds in another quiet whisper after a beat of silence.
Silver Wolf isn’t even sure if she was supposed to hear that, but regardless, she waits in silence for Kafka to elaborate. The seconds go by and Kafka doesn’t say anything else, her breath slowing down till Silver Wolf is almost sure Kafka has already fallen asleep.
Without really knowing how much time goes by, Silver Wolf finds herself already more than half asleep when Kafka suddenly mutters something else. And it’s so quiet and Silver Wolf isn’t awake enough to be sure she heard correctly.
“I don't want her to be afraid of me.”
There’s something, like a feeling in Silver Wolf’s gut (her gamer instincts, perhaps?),that takes that sentence and records it alongside every other precious bit of information on Kafka in the hard drive of her brain.
It takes days, weeks even, before Elio deems the vessel ready enough. But once it is, Kafka is officially entrusted with the task of raising her.
Even if Silver Wolf had previously accepted to share the responsibility of raising Stelle, Kafka still insists in taking on most of the responsibility on her own. She always does that when scripts are concerned.
For the most part, Silver Wolf is okay with that. She has never been good at teamwork, and she certainly doubts she has what it takes to raise a child. She’s not the caregiver, coddling type, even if she honestly doubts Kafka is any better.
But the moment they meet Stelle, like actually meet her, face to face, something shifts inside of her and she can see the moment something in Kafka changes.
Up until this point, Kafka was mostly playing around with the whole 'our kid' thing but now Silver Wolf can tell that's no longer true.
It’s also not justfor the script either, not fully at least. The moment her eyes land on Stelle there’s this spark of recognition, she’s no longer doing this because it is what the script requires of her. She wantsto do it.
No matter how old Stelle might look, she’s not even a month old and it kind of shows in her clumsy mannerisms. Her golden eyes scan the world for the very first time and when they look at Kafka there’s something there, some emotion that Kafka cannot read, but it makes Kafka feel exposed all of a sudden.
Silver Wolf watches the interaction with amusement. Kafka introducing herself with utmost formality and Stelle’s confused expression darting between Kafka’s face and the offered hand. If there was any remaining hesitation in Kafka, it gets immediately melted away by that naivety. Silver Wolf can sense the way this unlocks something inside of Kafka; good or bad she will eventually find out.
Stelle is taller than both Kafka or Silver Wolf, but she’s not even half as threatening as any of them. It’s no surprise Kafka has this sudden impulse to try to protect her from everything. And, while Silver Wolf feels a very similar fondness for the girl, she is a bit more casual in her approach to teach her stuff.
Back in Punklorde, she grew up pretty much on her own, she had some guidance here and there but it was mostly up to her to figure out how to navigate that.
It isn’t the way things are actuallydone in Punklorde, but it is the way she grew up, and while it’s probably not ideal, she doesn’t know any other way to raise a kid. She’s not too worried, since she’s not doing this alone, and Kafka is dependable as always, even going as far as taking Stelle with her on her missions.
But still, Silver Wolf wants to help however she can. So she tries to at least let Stelle know she’s around if she ever needs help, and in the rare moments where Kafka leaves her out of her sight, she gives her a little tip here, a hint there and it’s really cool to see Stelle figure the rest on her own.
She’s sharp like that, and even if Silver Wolf might never say it out loud, it kind of makes her feel proud.
Even without the Stellaron, Stelle is agile and strong, she takes on martial art knowledge easily and quickly. Silver Wolf is not easily amused, but Stelle is truly impressive. Even Kafka, with years upon years of fighting experience, finds herself struggling to keep up with her from time to time.
It’s very entertaining to see. So she makes a point to sit outside by the shade to watch Kafka train Stelle in their underutilized spaceship yard.
“Silver Wolf, care to join us?”
While Silver Wolf is distracted, Kafka and Stelle have paused their sparring session and Kafka has walked up to Silver Wolf’s place on the sidelines. Stelle is meanwhile finding out how to open the sports water bottle and then squeezing a bit too much water into her face, only some of it finding its way to her mouth.
“Not a chance, that training session looked like a lot, even I got tired of looking at you two,” Silver Wolf argues taking a sip from her colorful sports drink, her eyes look barely amused.
Kafka’s gaze softens in a way that makes Silver Wolf shiver, so she looks away towards Stelle, just as an excuse to ignore Kafka’s eyes on her.
Stelle looks hydrated, but judging by the amount of water now dripping down from her face and down the front of her shirt, the bottle in her hands might not have enough water for Kafka.
Having never before seen Kafka drink something other than plain water or fine wine, Silver Wolf gets one of her trademark brilliantideas and before she can ask herself if it’s actually a good or bad one, she’s already offering her plastic bottle to Kafka.
Kafka eyes the unnaturally orange drink for a fraction of a second before focusing hard on Silver Wolf’s face as her hand takes the drink from her, her fingers purposefully brushing over Silver Wolf’s.
Oh, so this is one of their little games.
Without missing a bit, Kafka offers a soft, almost imperceptible, smile and then... does she have to make such a spectacle of drinking it? She tilts the bottle down, letting the liquid into her mouth, swallowing so slowly, and then she has to lick her lips, slowly too.
The weather outside isn’t even hot, and yet, Silver Wolf feels her face grow uncomfortably warm.
“Thank you, Silver Wolf, that was refreshing,” she mutters directly into Silver Wolf’s ear as she leaves the half-empty bottle next to her.
She turns back to Stelle and both of them resume their sparring session without a hitch.
Silver Wolf has to congratulate herself for not shivering (too much), but still, she cannot deny Kafka’s stunt has left her a bit too hot and bothered.
It takes her far too many minutes to recompose herself and go back to her screens and before she notices, Kafka and Stelle are already wrapping up their fighting session.
“Hope you enjoyed the show,” Kafka says, moving to sit next to Silver Wolf.
Silver Wolf shrugs. “It wasn’t bad,” she replies, her eyes glued to the blueish screen in front of her, but there’s this subtle smile in her lips, she cannot hide it and of course Kafka notices it.
Stelle lifts herself from the floor, where she was trying to recover her breath, and walks towards them silently, her golden eyes scanning them with barely noticeable curiosity.
“Go get yourself cleaned and rest,” Kafka instructs and Stelle replies with a simple, curt nod.
“So, what’s the verdict? Are you satisfied with our kid?” Silver Wolf asks teasingly and Kafka hums.
“She reminds me of you,” Kafka muses as Stelle walks away.
“Me? I’m shit at hand-to-hand combat, what part of her would even remind you of me,” Silver Wolf says, a raised eyebrow and disbelief in her bored tone.
“She comes up with the strangest ideas to counter me, it’s refreshing, it’s like how I imagine a fight between us would go down,” she explains in a thoughtful tone.
Silver Wolf snorts. “If we fought, you would demolish me in 5 seconds tops.”
Kafka looks at Silver Wolf, like, reallylooks at her, her eyes scanning her from head to toe. Silver Wolf feels almost naked.
“I wouldn’t be sosure about that,” Kafka says and then she walks away, leaving Silver Wolf to deal with the confusion.
What is that supposed to mean?
Having ‘shared custody’ of the Stellaron kid can be a lot of work and Silver Wolf feels so unprepared to handle any of it. Eventually Kafka and her somehow manage, because even if at first Stelle is a blank slate with absolutely no knowledge of anything, to Silver Wolf’s eventual relief, that doesn’t last long.
Stelle is leaning quickly, sometimes a little bit too quickly, and sometimes without anyone having any control over the things she ends up learning.
It’s fun and interesting in a way that is so entertaining to watch.
It also gives Silver Wolf opportunities to tease Kafka in ways she has never been able to do before.
Kafka is trying to enjoy a drink in the balcony when Silver Wolf interrupts her ‘me-time’ and asks her to come down with her to see something. Kafka stands alert and follows Silver Wolf with a bit of worry and a curious gaze.
“Your kid did this,” Silver Wolf informs, pointing at the wall with a serious expression. The only indication that she's teasing is the little smirk that reaches her face as she finishes her sentence.
“Ourkid,” Kafka reminds while turning to look where Silver Wolf is pointing.
'Rules are meant to be broken'is crudely painted on the wall in what appears to be the washable finger paints they got for Stelle.
Kafka covers her mouth but a little breathy laugh manages to get out.
“It kind of looks like your graffiti,” Kafka notes, sending a raised eyebrow towards Silver Wolf.
Silver Wolf shrugs.
“But you're the one always itching to break rules,” she shoots back raising an eyebrow.
“And you, my darling Wolfie, have that in common with me,” Kafka replies, sultry and teasing, but it's been so overdone, right now it doesn't affect Silver Wolf.
Silver Wolf's smile is almost imperceptible behind the pink bubble she's blowing with gum. But Kafka is observant enough to notice.
“She got into the bad habit of breaking jars and barrels because of me, can’t she get the whole rule breaking thing from you?” Silver Wolf fires back with a raised eyebrow.
“Afraid not, Silver Wolf, this she got from me as much as she got from you,” Kafka states as she moves closer to the graffiti-looking inscription to inspect it closely with a fond smile; her finger smudging one of the edges where the paint is still fresh.
No matter how much time Kafka spends teaching Stelle how to be human, Silver Wolf's influence is still right there and she refuses to let it go unnoticed.
Because it’s nice, to know there is something that connects them, tangible proof of the peculiar relationship they share. It really is nice.
Kafka is in the kitchen, waiting for the muffins in the oven to finish baking as she hums one of those classical songs she likes (Canon in D, Silver Wolf notes). Meanwhile Silver Wolf is keeping her company, sitting at the counter, playing a game on her phone.
It has been a while since they had something like this. Just a moment of silence, of being alone together. Stelle takes up most of Kafka’s time and Silver Wolf has been busy covering for Kafka in missions she cannot complete while looking after Stelle.
It is a relaxing moment in silence that isn’t meant to last.
That’s when they hear it.
A horrible, deafening crack, followed by various objects crashing against the ground, followed by a loud thump.
When Kafka and Silver Wolf barge into the room where the sounds come from, Blade is lying on the floor, bleeding. The bed's legs are broken and Stelle is also lying upside down on the floor, head on the floor butt in the air. But thankfully notbleeding.
“What to do with you? You’re not a child anymore,” Kafka laments bending down to look at Stelle who has the decency of looking a bit ashamed as she sits up.
Technically speaking, Stelle was never a child, but the days when she was learning about the world and kind of acted like one, are long gone.
“Stand still,” Kafka orders, her voice a bit cold as she stands up and goes check on Blade, who is still bleeding all over the ground. He'll be fine very soon, but he likes the dramatics.
“Hey, you good?” a plain voice asks.
Stelle looks up at Silver Wolf, gazes at her for a couple of seconds, inexpressive gold meeting inexpressive silver, and then Stelle looks away a bit hesitant.
“You aren't hurt or anything, are you?” Silver Wolf elaborates, crouching down to get on Stelle's eye level.
Again, Stelle doesn't answer, she just glances quickly at Silver Wolf before looking away again.
With the head movement, Silver Wolf catches a glimpse of a cut right underneath Stelle's chin. Taking Stelle's face with one hand and pulling out a band-aid from her pocket with the other, she checks the wound before using both hands to carefully place the band-aid over the cut.
Stelle heals fast but this should help it heal without any hitch.
“Kafka is right, you know? You're not a kid, what were you even trying to do?” Silver Wolf asks, her eyes scanning Stelle and finding another cut in the back of her hand that also gets covered by a bright colored band-aid.
Stelle takes a couple of seconds to gather her thoughts before her deep voice comes out.
“I was... bored.”
Oh, damn, is this something else that Stelle got from her? Silver Wolf wonders as she looks at Stelle's gaze, that identical eye shape looking down with a particular brand of frustration that feels so familiar to Silver Wolf.
“So what? You decided to kill time along with Blade?” Silver Wolf tries to sound stern, and she does, but she can't hold back the small smile at her own joke.
Stelle stifles a laugh at that but recovers quickly before she can be scolded for laughing. Damn, they even got that same silly sense of humor.
“I was trying to catch Blade with his guard down,” she explains.
Finding enjoyment in bothering Blade? Yeah, that part is definitely from Kafka's side.
“Hey, next time you're bored we can play some games, like, y'know, on your phone and stuff,” Silver Wolf suggests showing off the game she had been playing on her phone, it must look interesting enough because Stelle's eyes widen a bit.
“Those games will have to wait, Silver Wolf, tonight Stelle is grounded,” Kafka states, her firm voice has a tired tilt.
“Tough luck, kid,” Silver Wolf says, sending Stelle a bored look that has a hint of pity as Kafka sends Stelle away.
“What happened to the bed, Bladie?” Kafka asks turning towards Blade who is still lying on the floor but sits up once he’s adressed.
“She jumped on the bed, repeatedly, as an evasive maneuver,” Blade explains, blood pouring out of his mouth with every word he says.
“Be honest with me, Bladie, did Stelle do all of this to you?” Kafka asks, eyeing all the cuts and bruises in his body.
Blade looks thoughtful for a moment before looking directly at Kafka and shaking his head.
“I may have created a situation where it was easier for me to get hurt,” Blade admits with so little resistance even Kafka is slightly stunned at his honesty.
“I see, go get cleaned up, Bladie, and be careful not to bleed too much on the carpet,” Kafka says and then turns back to look at the mess in the entire room with a sigh.
“I'll take care of this,” Silver Wolf states walking forward.
“I thought your job wasn't to clean other people's mess,” Kafka points out with a soft teasing smile. Silver Wolf has told her those exact words enough times for Kafka to have them associated with the hacker.
“Hey, it kind of is my mess too when our kid is the one making it,” Silver Wolf replies coolly and turns around, putting her phone away before activating a hard light keyboard and a screen.
She's too focused editing the room into a cleaner version when she feels arms rest on her shoulders and a warm body pressing against the back of her head and neck.
“Thank you, Wolfie,” Kafka mutters, her voice so soft and quiet, Silver Wolf can only hear her cause Kafka is saying the words against the crown of her head.
The woman leaves a kiss there before moving back and letting Silver Wolf work her magic.
The room gets back to normal in minutes and Kafka is grateful for that. Its nice to know someone has her back.
It's always entertaining to find out more things about each other through the behaviors Stelle displays.
The girl likes playing games, that’s both Kafka and Silver Wolf, just like she enjoys disregarding rules, again, like both of them, she’s strong and very good at physical fighting, like Kafka, but she's also resourceful and quick witted, like Silver Wolf...
And all of that is easy to connect to Silver Wolf or Kafka... but this...?
“So, you were digging inside the trashcan,” Silver Wolf recounts. “Why...?”
“I wanted to see what's inside,” Stelle replies simply. A direct, flat reply, this one’s a Silver Wolf trait.
Kafka and Silver Wolf exchange glances and it's not hard to decipher what the other is thinking.
Where did she learn this from? Who is she taking after?
“Why?” Kafka asks and Stelle looks down, thoughtful before looking back up and shrug.
“It's fun,” she explains unhelpfully.
“Fun?” Silver Wolf repeats, an almost imperceptible frown in her face.
But Stelle is not deterred as she nods.
“Fun,” she repeats without a doubt. “I found this,” she adds opening her fist and showing off a little plastic baseball slightly smaller than the size of her palm. It’s made of neon yellowish green, see-through plastic, it probably glows in the dark, and Silver Wolf can’t deny it kind of looks like a cool find.
“Nice loot!”
But Kafka seems to not appreciate the treasure as much, she seems confused and a tad uncomfortable.
“Kafka, DMs?” Silver Wolf requests pulling Kafka some steps away.
“Silver Wolf?”
“She's not hurting anyone,” Silver Wolf reasons with a shrug.
“I know but...” Kafka looks thoughtful, she must be really thinking of how to deal with this. Because, it is true, Stelle could have worse habits, but still dumpster diving is a bit...
Silver Wolf sighs.
“Look, this might be one of the things we can’t control that I mentioned before,” Silver Wolf explains.
Like waaaay before, when Stelle was only an idea and a bunch of code.
Kafka sighs, she sounds equal parts tired and exasperated, but Silver Wolf carries on.
“We really can’t do much to change this, but we can teach her how to do it safely,” she suggests. “And teach her that she needs to take a bath afterwards,” she adds entertained and Kafka cannot help but smile at the joke.
“I know I say it a lot, but I really do love your ideas, it’s like everything is a puzzle and you’re just brimming with all kinds of solutions to deal with them,” Kafka says fondly, her low voice making Silver Wolf feel slightly jittery.
Compliments from Kafka aren’t too rare, since she’s not stingy with her praise, but this kind of heartfelt compliment israre, so even if she doesn’t show it outright, Silver Wolf really treasures this moment.
Something Kafka genuinely appreciates about Silver Wolf is how brimming with information she is. Kafka will be standing idly and wonder something out loud and if Silver Wolf is around, chances are Kafka will get an answer.
There’s a hunger for knowledge inside of her and it has nothing to do with an ego trip or some kind of pursue of superiority, it’s just, having information for the sake of learning about it is entertaining to Silver Wolf. It’s part of the bigger game she plays on her own when interacting with the world.
Kafka loves it, it’s so fascinating to witness.
It’s part of what makes missions with Silver Wolf such a highlight. It’s also what makes every interaction with Silver Wolf interesting beyond words.
No matter the silly questions she comes up with, Silver Wolf has this drive to answer, to really indulge Kafka, to play along.
And watching Stelle equally fascinated by that is heartwarming in a way.
All three of them are currently in Silver Wolf's quarters, looking at her screens and monitors displaying various pictures of the planet they will visit for the next mission.
It’s important to familiarize themselves with the area and this is the next best thing they can do without having Silver Wolf 3D scan the place and make a virtual reality map.
“This... it isn’t a trashcan?” Stelle suddenly says pointing at a screen, very interested in the red metal box in the picture. She has seen them throughout the corners of every street in the planet so her curiosity is piqued.
“First time seeing a mailbox? People write messages in pieces of paper, write enough info to ID the person they’re sending the message to, and place the paper there,” Silver Wolf explains as she and Kafka keep looking at other pictures.
“Why not just send an e-mail?” Stelle asks, a confused expression on her face.
“Lots of reasons, some people can’t be bothered to get devices for e-mails, some others might like the aesthetic, or having a paper trail can be somewhat useful in limited circumstances. It might be a slower form of communication, but some people find convenience in it.”
Kafka can’t help but be amused at how detailed the explanation ends up being. Meanwhile Stelle nods, her eyes shining with newfound wonder, and gives another last look to the picture of the mailbox before focusing on other pictures.
Kafka takes Stelle to every mission, it seems to be enough for a lot of the missions they go to. So it’s a surprise when Silver Wolf gets finally assigned to go on missions with both of them.
Missions with Kafka are never boring and adding Stelle to that mix turns out to multiply the fun.
Stelle is a bit overenthusiastic about any new thing, but Kafka seems to be good enough at reeling her in and keeping her in line.
But still that means that half of the mission goes by, having to keep an eye on Stelle to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself during fights. Kafka seems so used to it, but this is new to Silver Wolf, so she makes a point to stay vigilant.
And it’s because of this, that she’s able to note something. Once the battles are won and the whole action-focused part of the mission is done, Stelle looks bored.
Silver Wolf is kind of bored too. They have been waiting on an alleyway for Kafka to come back for a while now. Silver Wolf even resorted to prying open a mailbox and reading some stranger’s letters only to have something to entertain her mind.
“What? No way,” Silver Wolf snickers as she reads a particularly ridiculous letter. “Wanna check this out?” she asks, offering the letter to Stelle.
Stelle doesn’t immediately reply, she just looks between the offered piece of paper and Silver Wolf with inexpressive eyes. She doesn’t get a chance to reply cause Kafka arrives a moment later.
The moment she does, Stelle turns her head towards her and almost jumps from her spot on the floor where she has been drawing shapes on the dust with a finger.
“I found it,” Kafka announces, doesn’t matter what ‘it’ is, it’s not part of Silver Wolf’s script so she doesn’t ask. “But, I have to go alone to retrieve it,” she adds and Silver Wolf doesn’t need to look at Stelle to know the girl is disappointed.
“The surveillance cameras are already off, I’ll stay here and see if I can repair this ship and use it as our escape vehicle,” Silver Wolf says, cracking her knuckles and starting to type on a hardlight keyboard.
They have tons of ways of leaving the planet. But Elio’s script did not specify the method for their escape, which means that Silver Wolf can have fun with it instead of just waiting.
“Stelle?” Kafka says.
Stelle looks up, her eyes lighting up as she looks directly at Kafka.
“Stay here,” Kafka orders and walks away without noticing how her orders make Stelle deflate.
Silver Wolf gets to work, but she can’t help feel bad about Stelle. She knows what it feels like to be bored and with nothing to entertain yourself.
“Hey, kid, come ‘ere,” Silver Wolf calls and Stelle enthusiasm makes her posture straighten and her eyes shine like a little puppy after hearing the word ‘walk’. “Hold this for me,” Silver Wolf requests, holding up a metal box with some thick cables connected to the internal machinery she’s tinkering with.
Stelle is all to happy to rush to Silver Wolf’s side and hold the thing while curiously eyeing the engine.
“This is an IPC standard space pod, pretty common throughout the universe, it’s annoying how the IPC shows up everywhere, but the good thing is their stuff is pretty easy and fun to hack,” Silver Wolf explains as she leans forward to reach further into the engine.
Stelle looks closely as Silver Wolf opens or moves parts of the mechanism, she adjusts the box in Stelle’s hand, twists some parts and then a couple of little lights on a panel turn white.
“Wanna try?” Silver Wolf asks moving aside a bit and offering the tool she was using to Stelle.
Stelle is all too happy to take the tool and follow Silver Wolf instructions to fix a particular part of the engine.
“Not bad,” Silver Wolf says after checking Stelle’s work. “Time to see if it works,” she announces moving back and starting to type something on a keyboard on her wrist.
The motor seems to roar to life as every little piece starts to move and turn. Silver Wolf is almost ready to declare the repairs a success when a badly screwed part suddenly comes out flying.
Silver Wolf barely has the time to scramble out of the way. But before she can lose balance and fall on her butt she crashes against Stelle’s firm frame behind her.
After a second goes by, she looks up to see if Stelle is alright, she’s not expecting to see Stelle, with the stray piece held between her index finger and thumb, turning it around to look at it with unwarranted interest.
“Nice,” Silver Wolf whistles as Stelle turns to look at her, golden inexpressive eyes focused on Silver Wolf. With Stelle’s attentive gaze on her, Silver Wolf offers her a thumbs up.
For some reason that simple gesture is enough to light up Stelle’s entire face.
Silver Wolf doesn’t give it too much thought as Stelle offers her the errant piece and Silver Wolf makes sure to screw it extra tight before giving the space pod another go. The soldering isn’t pretty, but as long as the pod can take them away it’s enough.
But before that, she allows Stelle to check the engine and adjust stuff. She silently moves a couple of things and then, just as silently, she moves back giving Silver Wolf the space to turn on the ship.
And when it roars to life, Silver Wolf can’t help but be a bit impressed.
“Good call, kid,” Silver Wolf says and she doesn’t miss the way Stelle’s face subtly shines.
By the time Kafka is back, Stelle is hovering over Silver Wolf, trying to help in whatever insignificant thing the hacker might need.
And it takes literal seconds for Kafka to notice what is going on. But she doesn’t say anything. Not before they’re already driving away in the pod. Kafka in the copilot seat as Silver Wolf takes the wheel and drives them away from the planet before anyone can even notice the Stellaron Hunters payed them a visit.
Kafka is the better driver of the two, but she still enjoys the novelty of being driven through the stars.
Stelle falls asleep pretty quick on the passenger seat behind Kafka and Silver Wolf and not for the first time, both wonder how someone destined to hold the devastating power of a Stellaron in her body can also be so carefree and silly.
“So, I take it you had fun with Stelle?”
Silver Wolf shrugs, pausing a second to chew her bubblegum before blowing a bubble. She’s starting to suspect ‘Spending quality time with Stelle’ was part of the script. “It was alright, I showed her the basics of how to repair an IPC space pod, she picked it up fast,” Silver Wolf replies, sounding very neutral, but Kafka can notice the hint of pride in her tone.
“She truly is a fast learner, just like a certain little wolf I know~,” Kafka teases in a sing-song voice and Silver Wolf huffs in annoyance, but the way she rolls her eyes looks almost fond.
Kafka gives Silver Wolf enough time to come up with a comeback, but she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps driving in silence, so Kafka talks again.
“She also seems to like praise, I wonder where she got that from,” she says, raising an eyebrow as she eyes Silver Wolf’s smaller frame.
Silver Wolf wants to question Kafka, ask her if it’s not something Stelle actually inherited from her, but the infuriating way Kafka uses to look at her makes Silver Wolf say something else.
“Don’t look at me, I don’t like empty compliments,” Silver Wolf replies almost immediately.
“What's with you being defensive and denying everything?”
“I'm not denying anything, I'm just saying you're missing the point,” Silver Wolf says, still sounding a bit defensive.
“And that is?”
“She likes to be recognized for making the right choices,” Silver Wolf states, it feels a bit nitpickybut the distinction is important enough for Silver Wolf.
Understanding suddenly dawns on Kafka.
“So she’s one of those,” Kafka muses.
“I'm guessing she got that from you?” Silver Wolf asks, with a sly smile.
Not a lot of people would be bold enough to throw insinuations like that in Kafka’s face, specially while being trapped with Kafka in an enclosed area like the space pod they are driving.
Most people are too scared to even breathe in her presence, but Silver Wolf has never being like that. While she may be capable of feeling fear she’s also incredibly comfortable being direct with Kafka.
That is why playing these kinds of games with Silver Wolf is incredibly rewarding.
Kafka smiles, and the gesture is equal parts menacing and satisfied.
“No comment,” Kafka replies her voice sultry, but slightly threatening. Silver Wolf knows better than to keep asking. But she does take note of the wording for consideration.
After all, she’s a completionist at heart and any information to improve her understanding of Kafka is valuable as long as it helps her better her interactions with her (and also takes her closer to that coveted 100% completion rate).
They make it back to their headquarters, and after a short briefing with Elio, they go rest after a successful job.
Silver Wolf finds herself in the shooting range. She’s up to date with her games, there are no pending missions from Elio and she even finished some coding projects she had been postponing.
So with little else to do, she can find no excuses to not practice her accuracy in a game of real life FPS.
It keeps her senses sharp, but for some reason, making a solo run is always duller than competing with someone else.
Playing against Kafka always makes the shooting range tons of fun. Kafka makes every single thing she’s in even more fun, so reluctantly, Silver Wolf finds herself missing her a bit (too much).
It has happened a lot lately but she usually manages to ignore it when she’s engaged in activities that don’t let her thoughts wander. Unfortunately, the shooting range is not one of those activities.
The door opens and Silver Wolf cannot fight against the spark of hope surging in her chest as she turns around to see who the newcomer is.
Stelle stands frozen on the spot, scanning Silver Wolf’s face for any sign that she shouldn’t be here. So Silver Wolf blinks a couple of times to get rid of whatever emotion is flashing through her eyes and looks up at Stelle.
“Hey, kid! Wanna play co-op?” she finally asks and Stelle relaxes almost imperceptibly before nodding.
Silver Wolf gets Stelle another one of her guns, one that shoots lasers and makes noises once it’s fired because those are less serious and more fun, and for a start, they seem like a good enough beginner gun. Silver Wolf wants to pat herself in the back for being at least a bit considerate with Stelle’s safety.
Maybe Kafka will be proud of Silver Wolf taking precautions too.
Since Stelle seems to naturally know how to hold a gun correctly and seems to have some innate talent at aiming, Silver Wolf doesn’t take too much time teaching her the basics.
And in less than five minutes they’re ready to go. They start a game, firing at holographic targets that move and even if Silver Wolf says they’re working together, she cannot help but let her competitive side take over.
By the end of the game, Silver Wolf has more than tripled Stelle’s meager score. Which isn’t actually bad, usually Silver Wolf demolishes everyone else and they aren’t able to scrap together any points, but Stelle manages, and that should be applauded. But Stelle has no idea how good she is in comparison because Silver Wolf overshadows her too much.
So she’s annoyed.
With little care, she drops the gun in a nearby table and walks some steps away, her arms crossed over her chest as she refuses to carry on with their game.
A bit of a temper tantrum, it seems that Stelle hasn’t gotten over them just yet. Silver Wolf is no stranger to ragequitting games. She’s reluctant to admit it, but emotions sometimes get the best of her and she has very occasionally acted in embarrassing ways when games don’t go her way.
But she’s working on getting over it and hopefully Stelle will grow to be someone that doesn’t act like an asshole for losing at games either.
At least Stelle is just sulking, so Silver Wolf thinks she’ll get over it quickly, and she kind of does. Suddenly Stelle perks up and points at something, her eyes shining with admiration.
Silver Wolf follows the direction her finger is pointing to find exactly what Stelle is looking at.
The gun cabinet where a couple of Kafka’s submachine guns are.
Now, Silver Wolf’s gun expertise might come mainly from videogames, but spending a lot of time with Kafka has taught her enough about the infamous MAC-10 that Kafka seems to favor.
“Forget about it, kid, those things are clunky, hard to handle and not accurate at all, you’re better off using any other gun for now,” Silver Wolf states as she turns towards the minifridge in the corner of the room to retrieve something to drink.
Stelle might have no real experience with the gun, but surely she has seen Kafka use them enough in missions to have an idea of how it looks to hold it, load it and fire it.
Too bad she never figured out recoil is a thing guns have (and a bitch to deal with if you’re not expecting it).
Silver Wolf has her back to Stelle for six whole seconds that Stelle utilizes to take out the gun, load it and fire it towards the targets in front of her.
The moment she presses the trigger, the gun jumps with recoil directly into the middle of her face, knocking her off balance and into the floor.
As Silver Wolf turns around, she’s just in time to see the gun hitting Stelle in the nose as Stelle falls back on her butt.
Ah, what a mess.
“Hey! Kid!” Silver Wolf tries not to yell, but her voice still comes harsh and a bit on edge. And when Stelle sits up, rubbing her nose with her hand, Silver Wolf lets out a sigh of relief.
“Here.” Gently, Silver Wolf kneels next to Stelle and places the cool can of soda against the side of the girl’s nose. Stelle nods and holds the can where it hurts the most, letting out a relieved sigh.
Not a second too late, Silver Wolf gets a message from Kafka asking if she has seen Stelle. She hesitates for a second, Kafka is not gonna be happy about this, but she doesn’t want to hide things from her, specially when it comes to Stelle.
So she sighs and writes back.
Stelle is here in the shooting range with me, she’s fine, but we need to talk.
A minute or so later, Kafka barges into the shooting range, her hair down and still wet, a towel draped over her shoulders and clothes haphazardly put on. Silver Wolf can only assume Kafka was taking one of those long relaxing baths she has always liked to indulge in, and that might be the reason Stelle was walking around unsupervised.
She doesn’t look half as distressed as she must be feeling, but still Silver Wolf can sense the agitation underneath Kafka’s calm expression.
“She’s fine,” Silver Wolf states as Stelle looks at Kafka and raises a thumb up with the hand not holding the can.
“What to do with that girl...” Kafka mutters as Silver Wolf pulls Kafka to the side, Kafka has to bend over to get to Silver Wolf’s eye level.
“I know you said you wanted to take care of her tutorial missions, and I’m not trying to be a backseat gamer, but... may I... makea suggestion?”
Kafka looks annoyed for only a fraction of a second before sighing and nodding.
“A Tutorial on using guns,” Silver Wolf finally says. “She needs to know how to actually fire them, because she sees you use them a lot and it made her curious enough to give it a try even when I told her not to,” she adds and the annoyance in Kafka’s eyes melts as she turns to look at Stelle.
She’s hunching on the bench she’s sitting on, her bony knees knocking against each other absentmindedly (how can someone sotall look so nonthreatening? Silver Wolf might never know), her bored eyes looking slightly guilty as she dutifully keeps pressed a cool can of Silver Wolf’s soda to her injured nose.
“Fine, I guess we can give it a shot,” Kafka accepts after several seconds in silence and Silver Wolf visibly relaxes.
Kafka stands up and looks towards Stelle, and the look Kafka is giving her must be all business, because Stelle jolts, her back straight as she lowers the soda can, her face attentive and ready to receive instructions.
“Pick up that gun,” Kafka orders, her voice firm and Stelle tenses and looks up with a bit of shame. She knows she did something wrong and that is kind of enough punishment on its own. So Kafka allows herself to smile. “We’re going shooting.”
As always, Silver Wolf gets comfortable and prepares to see the tutorial start. Watching Stelle pick up skills is incredibly fun, and it also allows Silver Wolf to witness a hidden side of Kafka, the side that is innocently playful and nurturing, and even a little bit tender.
The way Kafka softly explains the basics, what to expect and how to correctly handle the gun, makes Silver Wolf smile so much she needs to pop up some chewing gum in her mouth and blow a bubble to cover up her expression.
Kafka is always slow and calculating, never impatient, but also a bit distant. But when she teaches Stelle, some of that detached facade melts away in a way that makes Silver Wolf wonder if this is what Elio meant when he said that Stelle would change Kafka.
Like this isn’t probably the full extent of the changes... and it’s not the first one of the changes either, no, that one was the moment Kafka met Stelle. But maybe these are the ripples from that first shift she saw?
Suddenly Silver Wolf wants to see more... she wants to witness just how far these changes will go, not only for Kafka, but for Stelle as well.
After Kafka shows Stelle how to correctly stand when firing the gun and where to expect the recoil, Stelle finds herself firing the gun without help and with ease.
It’s so easy, that after firing a couple of times without incident, Stelle seems to lose interest.
So, after making sure the previous gun hit didn’t leave any lasting damage in Stelle’s face (and after Silver Wolf places a colorful bandaid over the bridge of Stelle’s nose), Kafka sends the girl to her room to rest.
And with a yawn and a wave of her hand, Stelle is all to happy to heed Kafka’s words.
“Well that was interesting,” Kafka states, stretching her arms over her head. “But what about you, Silver Wolf?”
“What about me?” Silver Wolf repeats.
“Do you want to try it?”
Silver Wolf’s gaze alternates between looking at Kafka and the gun in the woman’s hand a couple of times before looking at Kafka with a raised eyebrow.
“You should reallytake up the chance, it’s not every day that I’m offering to teach you, free of charge too,” Kafka assures in that low, velvety tone as she moves closer to Silver Wolf, almost trapping the smaller woman against the wall.
Silver Wolf’s breath hitches softly and she takes a couple of seconds to regain her composure before replying in a measured neutral tone. “Sure, why not.”
Even if Silver Wolf isn’t as good of a physical fighter as Stelle or Kafka, she understands quickly enough the basics and Kafka is indeed a good, patient teacher, if a bit handsy at times, but that one Silver Wolf doesn’t mind. Having Kafka’s hands on her might be a bit of a distraction, but it’s a welcome one regardless.
And Kafka seems to enjoy hugging Silver Wolf from behind, her body pressed against Silver Wolf’s back, offering both support and comforting touches.
The guns, on the other hand, are a bit irritating. The recoil makes it hard to keep them steady and even with a steady hand the bullet pattern is too spread and erratic to make any significant focused damage.
Like yeah, in the end, after a barrage of bullets the target is bound to be neutralized, but a well timed headshot can do the same in less time and with less resources.
But at least Kafka’s body against hers as they practice shots is actually nice. And the distraction is a nice touch to add fun to the otherwise boring performance of the gun.
“So, what kind of thoughts are going through that sharp mind of yours, my Wolfie?” Kafka asks once they’re done as Kafka puts away the guns in the cabinet after cleaning them.
Silver Wolf raises her eyebrow, entertained by how little that nickname affects her now after almost an hour of direct exposure to Kafka’s playfulness.
Level up.
“Not much, just wondering why you even like these guns,” Silver Wolf replies absentmindedly.
“Please tell me exactly what is going through that mind of yours,” Kafka requests with a sultry smile.
“There’s no way to minmax a weapon like this, it wastes way too many bullets, the recoil is too much for such a widespread firepower that minimizes DPS and there’s practically no accuracy, the only way you could consistently hit the target with this is if you were trapped in a phone booth with it,” Silver Wolf explains in that calculating and efficient way of hers. “I just don't see the point in using them.”
Kafka lets out a laugh and it’s rich and full and it makes Silver Wolf shiver.
“You may have a point, Wolfie, but in a life so predetermined by a script we must follow, I guess I enjoy the unpredictability of the gun,” Kafka explains, her voice low and a bit longing.
“More like inconsistency,” Silver Wolf rebuffs with a raised eyebrow.
“But isn’t it fun? To pull the trigger and not know if I’ll hit the target?”
That sounds more annoying than fun. But Silver Wolf allows herself to see things from Kafka’s perspective. Kafka is incredibly efficient and an excellent fighter, so if a mission of hers could quickly end with the simple pull of a trigger, that would definitely feel anticlimactic.
If Kafka has certainty in every single step of her missions, adding a bit of random elements could definitely spice things up.
That much Silver Wolf can understand, and suddenly a smile is growing on her face.
“I guess when everything else is scripted, adding real-life RNG to the missions can make them more fun,” Silver Wolf concedes, her smile almost smug.
And Kafka can’t help but smile as well as their mutual understanding seems to grow a bit more.
Stelle might have ended not liking using guns, so guns is something that can stay between Silver Wolf and her.
Kafka comes back one night, having finished a particularly long mission and after escorting a half-asleep Stelle to her room, she goes to the balcony to have a drink of wine while Silver Wolf keeps her company.
They remain in silence for a little while, just breathing the cool air and absentmindedly looking at the stars. Well, looking at the stars in Kafka’s case, since Silver Wolf has a game console in her hands and her eyes are glued to it. But still, she’s only half paying attention to the game in her hands because the other half of her attention is focused fully on Kafka.
There’s something bothering Kafka and if she doesn’t say anything, Silver Wolf already has a couple of plans to get to the bottom of it.
Thankfully, Silver Wolf doesn’t have to go through the trouble of putting any of those plans into motion.
Kafka sighs and immediately Silver Wolf pauses her game, bracing herself for what Kafka might do or say.
“Say, Silver Wolf,” Kafka starts, leaning against the railing as she sends a side-way glance towards the other woman in the balcony. “How much do you think Stelle got from us?”
“Hard to say,” Silver Wolf shrugs, putting her game down. “She seems to mix and match a lot of pieces of our personalities, but we can’t really control which part,” she muses.
Kafka nods. That’s nothing new, Silver Wolf did warn her that this might happen, but back then she didn’t expect thisinsignificant thought to worry her this much.
Noticing Kafka’s uneasiness, Silver Wolf waits as they fall into silence again. If Kafka changes the topic, Silver Wolf is prepared to push back, but if Kafka needs time to put her thoughts in order, Silver Wolf can certainly give her that.
“I don’t feel fear,” Kafka suddenly says out of the blue. Silver Wolf is aware and she doubts this is all Kafka wants to say, so she just nods. “Do you think shefeels fear?” Kafka finally asks.
Silver Wolf looks up, suddenly thoughtful and then replies.
“She might not emote a lot, but I don’t do it much either and I do feel fear, so it’s very likely she can too,” Silver Wolf states.
Kafka sighs, as if the words were soothing to her.
“So... my little Wolfie gets scared?” she teases after a beat of silence.
“I guess...? But just like me, I’m sure she’s capable of feeling fear, she doesn’t really act like someone who doesn’t.” Not taking the bait, Silver Wolf continues her assurance and it visibly relaxes Kafka.
“Truly?”
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s really sure what fear is, but I don’t think she’s immune to it.”
“Good,” Kafka replies and the thankful words never make it past her mouth, but a small smile shows up on Silver Wolf’s lips, so Kafka knows Silver Wolf understands the words left unsaid.
Kafka knows she’s more than capable of raising Stelle on her own, nothing so far has been too challenging for her to handle, but having Silver Wolf by her side is nice.
Watching Stelle grow and develop into her own person with someone else is something she didn’t expect to find as fulfilling as she does and it is nice that Silver Wolf seems to be on the same page.
Stelle might be stubborn, impulsive and sometimes unable to control her strength.
But she's also kind, mindful and loyal...
And no matter the kind of questions plaguing her mind, she can be sure Silver Wolf will offer her an answer that will soothe her one way or the other.
She usually doesn’t fret too much with things that aren’t specified on the script, but somehow Stelle is different. She wants Stelle to be okay and she wants to do anything she can to make sure of that. Knowing she has Silver Wolf’s support is comforting.
Silver Wolf can’t deny she hadfun.
She loves playing video games and she hardly has the chance to do it with the other Stellaron Hunters. So teaching Stelle how to play is one of the best things she has ever done, as expected, Stelle is great at videogames. And after a very long session of playing all kinds of games, Stelle falls asleep.
At first, she was just leaning on Silver Wolf’s shoulder. And she looked so silly, Silver Wolf didn’t even consider waking her up, she took a couple of photos with her phone and then continued gaming on her own.
But it’s only a matter of time before Stelle falls into an even deeper sleep... leaning even more of her weight on Silver Wolf. And it happens so fast too.
One second Silver Wolf is making a challenge run on one of her games and the second she’s lying on her back, pinned to the couch by Stelle’s bigger frame.
By the time she realizes this is actually an issue, it’s a bit too late, she’s too trapped to be able to get away on her own.
Blade walks by the area, stops for a second to look at Silver Wolf and then leaves without a word.
“Blade, come back and help me or I'll kill you,” Silver Wolf tries to yell but it comes out more like a yelp.
“Is that your idea of a threat?” Blade asks stopping for just a second before he continues walking away.
Noticing her blunder, Silver Wolf scrambles to fix her mistake.
“W-wait! If you come back and help me, I promise I'll actually kill you,” she assures, her voice straining to be heard. “I’ll even implant you with a weakness, no micro-transactions!”
But seconds go by and Blade doesn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear her, or maybe he did and just decided not to help her?
Either way, he's a bastard and Silver Wolf will remember this the next time he asks for help unlocking his phone.
For the bazzillionth time, she tries to free herself from under Stelle or reach for her phone resting on the coffee table so she can call for help or do something other than getting flattened to death.
The phone is so close and yet so far, but maybe if she keeps trying she miiiight manageto reaaaaach...
“Having fun, Silver Wolf?”
Damn, just what she needs right now... A slightly tipsy Kafka coming to tease.
“I would be, if I wasn't,” huff,“being flattened to death,” Silver Wolf replies, maybe if she sounds a bit pathetic Kafka will take pity on her and help?
“Oh, don't be dramatic, I'm sure it can't be thatbad,” Kafka replies entertained.
No such luck, she's having fun watching Silver Wolf suffer.
“It was cute at first but now it's... heavy... too heavy... bones breaking, hah-help?”
“Oh, I would, but, you see,” Kafka pauses to do a little twirl. “This coat? It's brand new and I would notwant it to crease.”
“So...you,”huff, “v-value your coat more than me?” Silver Wolf grunts, annoyance barely hidden in her breathless, flat voice.
“Neither you nor I want me to answer that question,” Kafka replies, her voice sultry.
Silver Wolf groans as Kafka leaves the room.
That infuriating woman and her infuriating face, walking away with her infuriatingly long legs...
Annoying. But there's a reason why Kafka's contact in Silver Wolf's phone is “The Woman” and anonymity is less than half of it.
“Sam, be a dear and help Silver Wolf get Stelle into bed,” she hears Kafka's muffled voice and seconds later, the huge mechanical body of Sam maneuvers to walk through the entrance to the lounge area of their ship.
“Hey,” Sam's mechanical voice says awkwardly before Stelle's weight is being lifted from her and Silver Wolf can once again breathe.
“Thanks for the assist, I owe you one,” Silver Wolf says, tiredly.
“It's nothing,” Sam replies, cradling Stelle against the side of their metallic body. Stelle is probably drooling all over them, but Sam is barely reacting.
Not for the first time she wonders how, Sam, the alleged cold-blooded killer, can also be awkward and silly.
Maybe its just part of Sam's hidden charm or maybe that's just what Stelle does to them.
She kind of brings out the softest side of them.
“S-Silver Wolf?” That’s Firefly voice and she sounds a bit nervous. Silver Wolf stops typing the code she’s writing to turn all of her attention to her.
“Can you, uh, help me with something?”
Silver Wolf nods and follows Firefly.
When Firefly asked for her help, Silver Wolf was half expecting the girl to have some issue with her phone or some other piece of tech. But as Firefly guides her through a hallway and inside the dark room, Silver Wolf realizes she kind of guessed wrong.
Kafka is slumped in her chair by a long wall-to-wall window, the light of a couple of moons and some distant stars perfectly illuminating her silhouette.
Rolling on the floor, already empty, are a couple of bottles of that expensive wine Kafka likes and in Kafka’s hands there’s a tall glass with the purplish liquid sloshing around.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what to do,” Firefly explains sheepish.
“I’ll handle this,” Silver Wolf says dismissive and Firefly nods before walking away. Silver Wolf closes the door behind her and walks towards Kafka.
Kafka is always efficient and professional, disregards rules but abides by a strict code only she knows of. She’s easy to work with, and teamwork seems to come naturally to her but she’s also good enough to work alone. One moment she says a thing and then goes and does the opposite the next.
Describing Kafka is always a back and forth, like the bow of a violin sliding from one side of the strings to the other.
So really, Silver Wolf shouldn’t be surprised because the Kafka in front of her is still perfectly in character. She’s not unrecognizable by any standard, and yet Silver Wolf has a hard time wrapping her head around the Kafka she’s looking at.
Because, really, she never pinned Kafka as the sentimental type, even if she knows deep down that a lot of the seemingly meaningless things Kafka does do have a sentimental root.
She also didn’t pin her as someone who would get drunk, like, ever, and yet it’s not like Kafka doesn’t drink a lot.
She always looks in control even if she hardly is and she’s incredibly loyal even if she looks like the backstabbing type.
And maybe some of those apparent contradictions might have awakened something inside of Silver Wolf because she cannot imagine ever wanting to leave this woman’s side, no matter how much of a hassle dealing with her might be.
Silver Wolf takes a deep breath and walks deeper into the room, closer to Kafka and into her eyesight.
She looks refined as always even as she looks at Silver Wolf with glazed eyes, her movements slightly wobbly and less precise.
“Silver Wolf, care to join me?” Kafka asks slowly as she lifts her wineglass in a 'cheers' gesture.
Her low seductive tone used to do things to Silver Wolf, but not anymore. She has built a resistance to it which means she can now progress even further in this game she plays with Kafka.
“Don't you think you've had enough?” Silver Wolf asks flatly, her voice bordering on judgemental as Kafka finishes the entirety of her glass in a single gulp.
That's the wrong thing to say, because Kafka laughs, and it's not her gentle laugh, it's the sardonic one that Kafka gives to people, on the other side of her gun, asking for mercy.
It puts Silver Wolf a bit on edge but she carries on. If this gets her killed by Kafka's hand then so be it.
Pretty poggers to get killed by a sexy milf etc etc.
“Is this about Stelle?” Silver Wolf insists, taking a seat across from Kafka.
“Not everything is about that child,” Kafka replies but her head lolls to the side, trying to avoid Silver Wolf's stern eyes.
“Maybe not, but something tells me this is.”
Kafka sighs, there is no escape from this interrogation and she cannot lie to Silver Wolf, not when she has had this much wine.
“Thatchild,” Kafka pauses to refill her wine glass and watches the liquid slosh in the glass. “Did I do a good job with her?” her voice sounds so quiet and broken and Silver Wolf would like to think that it's all due to the alcohol, but maybe it isn't.
Did Kafka do a good job?
“No,” Silver Wolf replies flatly.
For a second there, Silver Wolf let's the word dawn on Kafka, chill her to the bone and sober her up.
“I'd say you did an excellent job,” Silver Wolf finally adds after several seconds of tense silence.
Kafka scoffs and her mouth twists in a very subtle snarl.
Silver Wolf is poking the slumbering beast and she will either get her head chopped off or she'll manage to get Kafka to open up, whatever happens first.
“I find that hard to believe,” Kafka says and she sounds a bit more sober now. Probably thanks to Silver Wolf's previous tasteless stunt.
“Why is that?”
Kafka finally looks back at Silver Wolf, that cool steel in her eyes grounding the chaos in Kafka's gaze.
“I'm not a kind woman,” Kafka finally says.
“Well, that doesn't matter, remember her base stats? Stelle is kind enough and she's only gonna learn to be kinder,” Silver Wolf says thoughtfully as she stands up and moves in front of Kafka.
The round coffee table is right behind Silver Wolf, with an almost empty bottle of wine that she’s blocking with her own body. Kafka immediately notices this too because when she looks at Silver Wolf, there’s thinly veiled threat in her eyes.
“And for what it's worth it, I think you're kind enough,” Silver Wolf says trying to ignore the threat.
“And just wheredid you get that idea, Silver Wolf,” Kafka asks, her voice cold and intimidating.
This is it, if Silver Wolf dies here, so be it.
She takes a step forward and sits sideways on Kafka's lap. It's usually the other way around, with Kafka on her lap, but this is really nice too. Kafka's thighs are soft and warm and Silver Wolf is glad her shorts are short enough to let her skin soak up that warmth.
She takes one of Kafka's hands, the one not currently occupied with the empty wineglass, with both of her smaller hands and looks directly at Kafka's eyes.
“These hands have killed thousands, but they also can dothis,” Silver Wolf turns Kafka's open palm up and then without hesitation, places her chin on top of it, letting the hand cradle her face.
Kafka looks dizzy for a moment, her cruel, murderous gaze softening almost imperceptibly.
Silver Wolf looks up at Kafka, her eyes as inexpressive as ever, but there's something about looking at Silver Wolf like this, with her round face in her hand, her cheeks between her fingers.
She almost looks like a puppy, politely requesting her attention.
“I haven't been paying much attention to you lately have I?” Kafka asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Silver Wolf shrugs.
“I don't mind, Stelle took a lot of our time, and I liked to see your maternal side,” she explains.
Kafka lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Maternal side? Me? You really do say the most amusing things sometimes,” she says, and even if it kind of sounds patronizing, there's a hint of fondness in her eyes.
Silver Wolf lets a soft smug smile grow in her lips.
“Isn't that why you keep me around?”
“Oh, I keep you around for more than just that,” Kafka assures as she slowly leans down, her lips finding Silver Wolf's.
It's incredible to think about it, but this is their first kiss.
And it's way more tender than what both expected from the other. It’s slow and tentative but there’s also something underneath, like a thinly veiled threat.
Oh, Silver Wolf loves this. It’s like a promise, that this is only the beginning of these games they play and it will only get more intense from here on. Silver Wolf cannot wait and hopefully Kafka feels just as excited.
There’s more things Silver Wolf wants to say to reassure Kafka, but the moment goes by and the things remain unsaid. But it’s all good, Silver Wolf will end up finding other ways to reassure her.
They don’t do much more than kiss and exchange few words of approval here and there, but it’s enough, Silver Wolf realizes that she needs this just as much as Kafka and as much as it is part of their game it’s also a sign that they’re getting closer.
By the end of the night, Kafka gets somehow reminded it's not only her who's saying goodbye to Stelle, they're all gonna miss that little menace.
And she doesn’t have to miss her alone. She has Silver Wolf with her.
Finally, Stelle has been left behind in the Space Station to be picked up by the Astral Express and everything has been going so smoothly. But still there is something bothering Kafka and even if Silver Wolf is aware of what that is, she still waits till Kafka brings it up on her own.
The moment comes as Silver Wolf moves to open a door that will take them to the emergency lift. The area hasn’t been destroyed by the Antimatter Legion but they have to hurry if they want to avoid them during their escape.
“What if, in the end, she truly doesn't want to remember me?” Kafka asks as Silver Wolf waits for her program to finish loading.
“She was disoriented, I’m sure it will be fine when we meet again,” Silver Wolf assures in a tone that sounds dismissive, but Kafka can sense the hidden warmth underneath.
“That's not what you said back then,” she points out regardless.
Silver Wolf was teasing back then and Kafka should know. She was also worried and nervous, but she doesn’t want to admit that so she just looks to the side and sighs.
She might have seemed annoyed or impatient back then as Kafka was saying her goodbyes to Stelle, but it’s mostly that she has never been good with saying goodbye and even if this is part of the script, therefore, unavoidable fate, she still feels a bit irked that she has to say goodbye at all.
Her program loads and the automatic doors open in front of them.
“Let's move out before we get trapped between the Express and the Legion,” Silver Wolf says instead of rebutting Kafka’s claim.
They reach the elevator and get inside. Kafka activates it as Silver Wolf triple checks their escape route is still up and running.
The escape beacon hasn’t been destroyed and is still active waiting for them at the end of this lift. Now all that’s left is wait as they get to their destination.
“I’ve always thought, no one can completely grasp another’s thoughts, and I still think that,” Kafka mutters, breaking the silence. “But, Wolfie,” she pauses and makes sure Silver Wolf’s eyes are on her, “I think you’ve gotten the closest anyone will ever get to grasp mine.”
High praise, very high praise coming from Kafka. It makes Silver Wolf feel some sort of responsibility, like she has unlocked a secret side of Kafka and it is her duty to guard it with her life.
And, make no mistake, she’s willing to do so. But there’s something else there besides the gratefulness underneath Kafka’s words.
It feels like a quick-time event moment, where Kafka is not quite saying it, but she’s waiting for Silver Wolf to react in some specific way.
Before time runs out, Silver Wolf scans Kafka with her eyes and her brain comes up with an idea. Hopefully she’s not reading Kafka wrong. Whatever the case, she’s about to find out.
“She will be fine,” Silver Wolf states, her bored tone sounding somewhat firm as she grabs Kafka's hand and squeezes. She doesn’t say her name, but she knows Kafka understands they’re talking about Stelle. “And I'll keep an eye on her, just to make sure she's not getting in too much trouble,” she adds and Kafka, almost imperceptibly, squeezes her hand back.
Success.
Kafka’s eyes soften and it’s all the indication Silver Wolf needs to know her assumption was correct. Kafka has never been one to get hung up on feelings, so this is uncharted territory and she appreciates Wolfie's assurance.
Afterwards, Kafka sighs and looks longingly to the glass wall of the elevator to the side, as it goes up, passing by every floor as the stars outside remain immobile.
It’s pretty obvious she wants to ask something, there’s an unanswered question on her mind but she doesn’t know how to bring it up and the emotion feels so foreign in Kafka, Silver Wolf catches on the hesitation almost immediately.
“You did a good job,” Silver Wolf replies to the question Kafka would never be bold enough to ask.
“Wedid a good job,” Kafka reminds, turning to Silver Wolf with a sharp gaze and Silver Wolf smiles without even making eye contact with Kafka.
Before this whole script even started, Silver Wolf wouldn’t say she got along badly with Kafka. Among the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, Kafka is the one Silver Wolf would have said she felt closer to.
But their bond right now? It’s a completely different thing.
Silver Wolf cares so much about this woman, she wants to comfort her and see her smile. But Kafka is a complicated woman that doesn’t really like being comforted or giving away smiles.
It makes Silver Wolf feel inadequate for the task, (no matter how many dating sims she plays, no one there is like Kafka) but just like it was when raising Stelle together, she will do her best however she can and hope it can be good enough.
“She’s in good hands, I’m actually more worried for the Astral Express, hope they can handle that little menace,” Silver Wolf says in a tone that sounds dismissive, but it’s not detached enough for Kafka to see it like that.
Kafka finally smiles and it’s such a soft gesture that fills Silver Wolf’s chest with warmth.
Suddenly an idea comes into Silver Wolf’s head and she can’t help but smile and let out a breathy laugh.
The silence is so comfortable, so Kafka hesitates before breaking it to question her companion.
“What?” she asks softly, almost in a whisper, like they’re having a secret conversation.
“I can't wait to see what kinds of messes she gets into,” Silver Wolf replies, her smile growing more as she looks to the side, the vast vacuum of space, dotted with stars almost mirrored in her silver eyes.
“Me either,” Kafka agrees with a softness that is so rare and yet so common for Silver Wolf to witness.
“And we’ll meet again, it’s in the script,” she reminds Kafka, but she’s kind of trying to remind herself too.
“True.”
“And...” Silver Wolf starts once more, standing in front of Kafka and holding her arms in her hands, her intense gaze burning into Kafka’s purple eyes, “...she won'tbe afraid of you.”
Those words warm Kafka in a way that is almost visible in the way her expression softens and her shoulders relax as she leans forward to kiss Silver Wolf.
It’s a soft kiss, vulnerable and raw, and Silver Wolf wouldn’t want this moment to end, but she knows it can’t last forever and she would rather end it by her hand than let it awkwardly reach its end.
So, she decides to go with one of her trademarked greatideas.
“Hey,” she says moving back from the kiss, looking into Kafka’s eyes with a spark of mischievousness in her eyes. “Why are we called Stellaron Hunters? We should change our name to Stellaron Care--”
“Silver Wolf,” Kakfa interrupts, her voice so sharp it sends shocks down Silver Wolf’s spine. “If you finish that terrible terriblejoke I’ll make you regret it.”
Is this worth it?
That’s a stupid question, of course it is. Stelle would have appreciated this joke. And Kafka should already know what keeping her around for her ideas entails.
“...Stellaron Caregivers.”
The elevator trip isn’t long enough for a make-out session, but that’s the last thing on their minds as Kafka pushes Silver Wolf against the metallic walls of the elevator and starts kissing her, keeping Silver Wolf’s mouth busy enough so she can’t say anything else.
In the end, the only regret they both have is they end up lowering their guard and almost blow up in the elevator as a couple of Voidrangers show up to attack, and once they’re back, Elio has some negative remarks to offer, even if he saw it all coming and is most definitely not surprised either.
But hey, at least the mission was accomplished. All according to the script.
And one day, down the line, as Silver Wolf visits the Astral Express, she will see what Stelle has become, and all those doubts and insecurities about being good enough to build a good Stellaron Vessel will vanish.
They will know they did a damn good job at it.