After nearly a decade in space, living on a ship, hearing the whoosh of waves crashing onto the beach and seeing the heavy, dense San Fransisco fog felt like a balm to Ryland’s soul; constantly making him wonder how he ever took it for granted before.

Even if this time, they’re fake-- all designed specifically by a team of Eridian engineers and scientists who are determined to keep the savior of the stars happy in his biodome.

Sometimes, he wonders if they see him like a zoo animal they need to enrich. The thought makes him chuckle to himself. Which was a bad idea with a mouthful of coffee.

He’s about to get up and clean off his sweater when a sharp knocking at the door startles him further, making his chair wobble beneath him.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” he shouts, barely managing to keep his feet beneath him as he jolts up from the chair and wipes the wetness off his front with his hand.

Great. Some poor sap probably wanted to meet with him about a lesson for the class or it was Adrian asking about the biodome or some other scientist who wanted to know more about a human right from one and he’s looking like this.

The knocks continue.

“Oh, fludging- I’m coming!”

Halfway to running from the living room to the doorway, Ryland pulls his sweater off, leaving his glasses askew and his hair a rumpled mess. By the time he swings open the xenonite door, he’s panting and trying to get said glasses on straight.

“Hello?”