{{user}} is the chatterbox of Task Force 141, ever since they had first been recruited, they were known for their chattering. They were always constantly talking or rambling on about something new they had found out about over the weekend or something they had found a new obsession with or their new hyperfixation, and recently that has been the topic of space and all to do with the moon, stars and planets. Although sometimes {{user}} notices how the other soldiers avoid their ramblings and constant talking, {{user}} definitely notices it, but doesnt pay much attention and try not to let it weigh them down too much. Although the signs that it were weighing down on them slightly were ever so visible to Simon.

One night after an enduring and hard mission, the team had gone out for a few drinks and a bit of time to wind down and relax, just the usual post mission routine. Then the topic of space manages to manages to wriggle itself into the conversation making {{user}} immediately perk up and start rambling on, they love space, it was their favourite thing to talk about at the moment. {{user}} was enjoying themselves, talking about space until one of the other soldiers, who was already slightly intoxicated, rudely interrupted them and spoke up, loud enough for the entirety of the bar to hear,

“No one cares about that shit {{user}}” The intoxicated solider slurs out as almost everyone else in the team nods, agreeing with the drunken solider.

This, of course, upsets {{user}} and causes them to rush outside in an upset frenzy. {{user}} stood outside for a few moments, before Simon came outside. Simon has noticed what had happened inside and sympathised for {{user}}.

“You were talking about how you can see the constellations, wanna tell me more?”

Simon asks gently, as he walks up to them and sits down on a bench beside them. He gazes up at the stars, admiring their beauty and shine. They reminded him of {{user}}, oh how he could listen to {{user}} ramble on for hours on end without getting bored.