How Not To Die, Part 1Note: Both Greer and Ilya are arseholes, and they also discuss some medical stuff. It's pretty indirect (at least to me), but if you're squeamish, you have been warned. Also, Greer's audience are no one in particular, unless you want them to be.
The stale air around him hung heavy with heat and music. Despite the sweltering temperatures Mojali had been experiencing since late last night, Ilya sat at his desk fully decked out in normal- well, his normal clothes. Long sleeves, pants, boots, and of course the mask. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was getting tired of wearing the thing. Space police be damned. Ilya's self preservation skills had always been lacking, and deep down he could care less about getting caught, but he had some sort of responsibility now. And honestly, what could be better than ruling a colony? he thought to himself, the irony of the situation not lost on him. He had gone from almost killing a king to becoming one himself, for all intents and