CH5: The Bandana's Back Together (Myra + Kara)
Dec 2, 2018 20:14:38 GMT -6
Post by Captain Ameijin! on Dec 2, 2018 20:14:38 GMT -6
Piece by piece, Myra moved the clothes from the drying machine into a tall plastic hamper. Muddled greens, soft blues, and pure whites filled her bin. They almost disguised the lone piece of clothing that did not belong to her. She cocked a single eyebrow, suspecting that it was a runaway pair of underpants. That couldn’t have been the case, she soon realized, as there were no holes with which to stick legs through. The cloth was a bandana, and not just any bandana: This was Kara’s.
“Well I’ll be damned… guess she does take it off sometimes.”
Myra shoveled the rest of her clothes into the hamper, hoisting it off the ground as she waddled over to her room. After tossing the dry clothes onto her bed to fold at a later time and date, she dropped the plastic hamper into the room and marched towards Kara’s with bandana in hand. She rapped her knuckles against the door.
“Anyone in there? Have a gift for you, still warm from the dryer.”
“Just a sec!” Kara replied through the intercom. Her hair still a bit damp, she put a shirt on and opened the door. “Hi! What's up?”
“What’s up…” Myra started, waving her friend’s bandana in the air. “Is that you left this in the dryer. Figured you’d want it back, even if I was a little tempted to see what you’d do with your hair without it.”
“Oh…” Kara grabbed the bandana. “Thanks. Well, to be honest, I probably would have just made a new one. Wouldn't be the first time, too.”
“That so? Didn’t take you for a seamstress,” Myra admitted. “Any reason you don’t just buy a new one?”
“It's… hm.” She looked down at the bandana and rolled the fabric between her thumbs. The orange embroidery still felt nice to the touch. “I could probably place a custom order to have one just the way I want it, but I kinda feel like it has more meaning if I make it myself. It's uh… what do you call it… a remembrance item?”
“Keepsake? Awfully sentimental of you, Kara.” Myra cocked her head to the side, examining the fabric herself. It was crude, she thought, but it was obvious that Kara had put a lot of care into it. “May I ask what you're trying to remember?”
“...It's my former captain, Jim Torel. I was... unlucky on a recon mission and got captured. He busted me out but, well. He didn't make it. Two in the head in a crossfire on the way out, and that was it.” She sighed. “That was my last mission before joining this crew, so it wasn't all that long ago, and I'm not particularly forgetful, but… it has helped me cope with it, in a way, so… Yeah.”
“He the one that gave you that bandana?”
“Ah, no. I've been wearing bandanas and the like for a good decade actually. Kind of a fashion accessory trademark I guess? This…” She looked down again. “This was his favourite blue. Said it reminded him of the Nordic seas. Never been there myself, but I figure it's as good as any for a, uh, keepsake.”
“That so? Seen the waters myself but I couldn’t tell you what color they were,” Myra confessed. “And what about that symbol you always wear? Come up with that yourself?”
“Ah, yeah actually. Really just a stylized signature, but I see it as my own branding, so to speak.” She chucked. “In the future, I easily see myself owning a hoverbike garage or something and I like to think of that symbol as an extra special touch on the paint job, if you see what I mean.”
“Here I thought you were a career soldier,” Myra mused. “Guess you have dreams of your own, huh?”
“Well I’ll be damned… guess she does take it off sometimes.”
Myra shoveled the rest of her clothes into the hamper, hoisting it off the ground as she waddled over to her room. After tossing the dry clothes onto her bed to fold at a later time and date, she dropped the plastic hamper into the room and marched towards Kara’s with bandana in hand. She rapped her knuckles against the door.
“Anyone in there? Have a gift for you, still warm from the dryer.”
“Just a sec!” Kara replied through the intercom. Her hair still a bit damp, she put a shirt on and opened the door. “Hi! What's up?”
“What’s up…” Myra started, waving her friend’s bandana in the air. “Is that you left this in the dryer. Figured you’d want it back, even if I was a little tempted to see what you’d do with your hair without it.”
“Oh…” Kara grabbed the bandana. “Thanks. Well, to be honest, I probably would have just made a new one. Wouldn't be the first time, too.”
“That so? Didn’t take you for a seamstress,” Myra admitted. “Any reason you don’t just buy a new one?”
“It's… hm.” She looked down at the bandana and rolled the fabric between her thumbs. The orange embroidery still felt nice to the touch. “I could probably place a custom order to have one just the way I want it, but I kinda feel like it has more meaning if I make it myself. It's uh… what do you call it… a remembrance item?”
“Keepsake? Awfully sentimental of you, Kara.” Myra cocked her head to the side, examining the fabric herself. It was crude, she thought, but it was obvious that Kara had put a lot of care into it. “May I ask what you're trying to remember?”
“...It's my former captain, Jim Torel. I was... unlucky on a recon mission and got captured. He busted me out but, well. He didn't make it. Two in the head in a crossfire on the way out, and that was it.” She sighed. “That was my last mission before joining this crew, so it wasn't all that long ago, and I'm not particularly forgetful, but… it has helped me cope with it, in a way, so… Yeah.”
“He the one that gave you that bandana?”
“Ah, no. I've been wearing bandanas and the like for a good decade actually. Kind of a fashion accessory trademark I guess? This…” She looked down again. “This was his favourite blue. Said it reminded him of the Nordic seas. Never been there myself, but I figure it's as good as any for a, uh, keepsake.”
“That so? Seen the waters myself but I couldn’t tell you what color they were,” Myra confessed. “And what about that symbol you always wear? Come up with that yourself?”
“Ah, yeah actually. Really just a stylized signature, but I see it as my own branding, so to speak.” She chucked. “In the future, I easily see myself owning a hoverbike garage or something and I like to think of that symbol as an extra special touch on the paint job, if you see what I mean.”
“Here I thought you were a career soldier,” Myra mused. “Guess you have dreams of your own, huh?”