Petal wakes up with a groan, rubbing their eyes to try to make the headache go away. They roll over in the oversized bed that they’re starting to think might be the smallest bed the Affini would ever let a human sleep in. Other than an affini, although the affini might actually be bigger.

Nope. That’s not a thought for when they’re stuck in bed with a headache. The thought of having an affini just swoop in and take away all their pain was way too appealing when they were actively in pain. So they should wait until they’re not in pain to make that decision. Nevermind that the only time they can actually remember not being in pain was when they were high on xenodrugs. Another thought to avoid, then. They’ve been having a lot of thoughts to avoid.

Even their new name is a bit of a minefield. It felt right at the time, and as much as they don’t  really want it to, it still feels right, even now that they’re sober. Maybe there’s a constant low dose of… something, pumped throughout the whole ship, but if there was, would they really have a headache right now?

Why did everything about the Affini have to be so unfair? Petal shouldn’t make big important decisions when they’re sober, because then they’ll just want whatever takes the pain away, and they shouldn’t make big important decisions when they’re on xenodrugs, because then it’ll just be the xenodrugs talking, and the idea that they could always just get somebody else to make the decisions for them was just a particularly pernicious brainworm from Affini propaganda. And the exact kind of decision that they shouldn’t be making while in pain, or on xenodrugs.

With another, louder groan, Petal rolled to the edge of the bed, and managed to stand up. They almost immediately regretted it, their legs feeling barely able to support their weight after all their walking yesterday, and this time, there wasn’t a giant plant lady to make sure they didn’t hit the ground.

They think for a moment about crawling back into bed and waiting for the Affini to decide that they couldn't take care of themself, but that feels exactly like the kind of decision they shouldn't be making in this state.

They stagger their way towards the main room in the ridiculous Affini hab unit. The furniture is all sized for a human, technically, but every room is just… huge. Probably so that the Affini could swoop in and domesticate anyone that wasn’t taking care of themself. They glance at the door that leads to the bathroom, their bathroom, and feel their chin. They should probably go deal with that, but it just feels like so much effort.

They look towards the kitchen, tucked away behind a bench that would probably come up to about Delphinium’s knees. The room still had a way of making everything look small. Still, a bench scaled to an affini would probably come up at least to Petal’s head, if it wouldn’t just be taller than them, so at least they can actually use the kitchen.

Even back when Petal was living on a planet, they never really felt comfortable in a kitchen, it always just seemed too exhausting. But then there was that marvel of Affini engineering, the atomic compiler. With that, they might even manage that whole self-sufficiency thing that they’d probably need to demonstrate to not have somebody swoop in and declare them a risk to themself.

Now they just needed to decide what they wanted to eat. Hrm. There weren’t a lot of good things about being in the navy, and even fewer about the rebellion, but not having to decide what to eat was one of them. They look back at the table, also human sized, and as such completely dwarfed by the room they find themself in, but they’re focused on the small glass of enriched water they tested the compiler with, and the small purple flower delicately resting inside.

Ice cream. They can figure out a better menu later.

Petal collapses onto the couch with a sigh. they hadn’t managed to make the decision to try any of the other seemingly endless flavours of ice cream, but they had found some way to add some sort of nutritional supplement. Well, actually, the compiler had asked if they wanted it to do that for them, but still. It was nice to think that they actually might be able to get by by just eating whatever tastes good, and trust the Affini-tech to make sure they’re getting what they need. Assuming the Affini let them keep something this ridiculously high-tech. Although it’s probably about equivalent to a toaster to them. 

They’d had a random thought about asking it to make them a gun, but that was just asking for trouble. It would probably have the same effect as walking up to Delphinium and just asking her to make them a pet. Besides, it’s not like there’s any good reason to have a gun.

They had also checked the bathroom, which was, again, ridiculously oversized, although the bathtub was closer to the size of a pool, and the shower was clearly tall enough for an affini, even if there were also controls closer to a useful human height. When they found out that there wasn’t a razor, they went back to the compiler and asked for one, which the compiler eventually gave them, but not before passive-aggressively reminding them that an affini would be able to provide them with far more effective options for removing unwanted hair. Which wasn’t entirely unhelpful, but the compiler had actually said that their ‘owner’ would help them with that, which left them with an uncomfortable feeling. They probably also should have showered, and brushed their teeth, and whatever else, but they had gone long enough without doing that that surely another day wouldn’t make much of a difference.

It had been a long day, or, at least, it had felt like a long day, a quick check of the clock revealed that it had actually been about two hours, but either way, they were tired, so they pulled the rest of themself up onto the couch, which was only marginally less comfortable than the bed, which, they had to admit, was also less comfortable than lying in Delphinium’s lap. But that was probably just because of the xenodrugs. They looked over at the little flower. It was starting to droop. They should probably do something about that. Maybe they could get it pressed, or something.

Just as they had almost managed to drift off to sleep, a pleasant Ding-Dong sounds throughout the room, and the condescending voice Petal had come to associate with the hab announces, “Hey cutie~! You have a visitor, lucky you!”