Hell's Gate never sleeps, not entirely. Still, it's possible to get moments where it feels like it - no matter that Pandoran days often have no night, and have been known to send the evolved-on-Earth (aliens
) humans clinically insane, the powers-that-be have decided to run on twenty-four hour time, and try and keep everything as normal as possible.
(Pretty much everyone agrees that all this does is add a degree of surreality to their everyday existence that isn't needed, but as the saying goes, theirs is not to wonder why.)
(theirs is just to do and die)
The clock on the wall is saying 3:45 in green light on black, which is pretty normal, though.
Normal for Trudy when she and sleep are having disagreements.
It's nearly 4am, even the gym is quiet, dark, mostly empty except for the equipment and Trudy. And mostly quiet except for the fact that no one is truly silent
when kicking, hitting, punching a punching bag. Mostly dark, except for the few lights she's turned on because she's been cursed with practicality.
"At least you remembered your hand wraps this time."
She pauses, doesn't answer, spins and delivers a kick that would break an opponent's jaw, if she were actually fighting an opponent.
"Aren't ya supposed to be sleeping on the couch when Anjali kicks you outta bed?"
From out of the corner of her eye, she can see Farzan pinch the bridge of his nose. "I haven't been
to bed yet."
Then she sighs, tips her head back with her eyes closed and just breathes for a moment. Then, "What are you doing here, Farzan?"
"Got a sixth sense. Tell's me when you're being stupid."
"I'm not being stupid," she mutters.
"Sure you're not."
(Muhammad Farzan has known Gertrude Chacon since they were shiny new students in the Marine Flight School, although Trudy wasn't so shiny, even then - cheerful, but not shiny and new - and he knows when to shut up and let her thoughts come together.
Especially at nearly four in the morning)
"May. June. July. August." Trudy takes a deep breath. "Just. Um. I hate August, okay?"
"I know," he says, quietly, now walking forwards.
(August, and her birthday.
he knows very, very well her feelings about her birthday)
"And if you are going to die on me, just...don't do it on my birthday, okay? I can't..." She shuts her eyes again, breathes deep again. "Just don't.
Her breathing isn't nearly so even now.
(It's nearly four in the morning, which is why Farzan wraps his arms around his best friend and says nothing. It's nearly four in the morning, and he'd rather be anywhere else but watching her have one of her moments of falling apart.
And you couldn't order him away)