A microbiologist and a Cylon walk into a pokémon lab... ((for youmeandpokemon))

As soon as Professor Madrone confirms a good time to drop by his lab, Adia prepares for the visit. It entails little change from how she usually prepares to visit the Nexus -- the only delay is Caspar getting ready, too.

He asked to come with her, but she has to remind him not to wear a suit, not unless he wants it covered in pokémon fur, feathers, or who knows what else. So he needs a little more time to pick out something casual -- jeans and button-down, which he's not thrilled about.

Adia assures him that he looks as professional as always, and teleports them to the coordinates that the professor sent her.

Under a Full Moon

The former Colonies all had several moons, but only one moon goddess.

There was Selene, of course, and Hecate, but both had long been supplanted by Artemis, a Lord of Kobol and a prominent figure in the Sacred Scrolls. She was the goddess of the hunt, of nature, and of truths found only in the night sky.

Adia never had cause to pray to her before the Nightmare. It was a thought brought on by the full moon hanging above her, the only thing that felt real in the that dark, twisted village.

The moon above her feels real, even if its face is new. She stares up at it, the light it reflects so strong that she doesn’t bother with the small camping lantern she brought with her when she wandered from her cabin to the edge of her property, down to where the cleared land meets the edge of the forest.

It’s beautiful, she thinks. Pale white and dark gray, an orb that hangs among the stars and bathes everything around her in a silvery light.

But it’s also a rock in space, full of craters and scars. There is no goddess pulling it along in her chariot, staring at the Earth below and listening for the prayers of a confused young woman.

Maybe in another universe.

And yet…

For all her belief that her universe is mundane, that her brushes with magic and Great Ones and scythe-wielding goddesses only happen in the Nexus and other universes, in this universe she still feels the pull of that moonlight. It’s as inexorable as gravity. How often has she come out to stare up at the moon? How much time has she lost wondering about the connections in her brain, the knowledge she now keeps? Why do things feel different now?

Why here?

The sound of footfalls breaks her reverie. She turns and sees Caspar, the worried lines of his face made sharper in the pale light. “You’re going to catch a cold out here,” he chastises, stepping up to her and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

She smiles softly. “I know you know that’s not how viruses work.”

Caspar huffs and fusses over the blanket so that it covers her back evenly. “Fine. Hypothermia, then.”

The temperature is well above freezing, and she is wearing her coat besides, but she doesn’t bother arguing the point. As he pulls the blanket closed around her front, she leans up and kisses him in apology. “I couldn’t sleep,” she murmurs against his lips.

He shuts his eyes. When he opens them, the worry has disappeared. He looks up at the moon once, then back at her. “Is she talking to you yet? Artemis or what’s-her-name? The scythe lady?”

“Caspar…”

Her tone is vexed, but he perks up anyway. He loves it when she says his name. “What? If you think it’s worth coming out here and listening, then it is.”

She sighs. “I’m agnostic. You’re agnostic. You don’t even believe in your own god.”

“True.” He smiles and kisses her forehead. “But I believe in you.”

A warmth spreads through her and she opens the blanket as invitation for him to join her underneath it. They fit together, her head tucked under his chin, tilted enough so she can keep gazing at the moon.

And when her eyelids become too heavy to do even that, he scoops her up and carries her back to their cabin.