Wish Upon A Star

Red Dwarf

Repra is angry. Repra will not allow him back. Repra is the ultimate home which he would go to if he had followed the path of his people, if he had stayed home and not tried to make himself feel whole. What will happen to him once he breathes that final breath? Was it real, was this his only lost chance at an afterlife? Would it matter now, that he had long made that decision? He didn't know, but he also wasn't sure, he wasn't sure of anything. But it was all that he had ever known, ever been told, preached to through most of his life. Everything he had known, every single day feels tested, pushed, and scolded.
His own body would never be taken from it's place and sent to Repra and her harsh winds. It would never be torn apart and left in it's dust and ashes. He would never see his family again beyond those terrible days of fighting and pain before he left. He was no longer part of the whole, no longer part of anything. Just another poser human, one who couldn't fit in even as his life depended upon it. No longer with a place to welcome him home with open arms.
And this is what he solely wished for. Not to be condemned to this life alone.

"The afterlife is whatever a soul wishes or believes it to be." -- Aimee Carter

Neutron

For all the times he kept himself separate, trying to maintain some composure to appear as a person that he was not, there had been so little. A lack of experience outisde of all that this universe had to offer. Even now, there was fear, worry, and uncertainty in people. If the wrong person knew what he was, what he could produce, everything could go away with the snap of fingers. Sometimes he didn't care, he wanted to pretend it didn't matter the way that other people made it out. That everything was nothing, even though he lost his own arm due to it. An arm lost when no one else was saved because he failed. An arm that only left him lost and choosing something artificial, losing his family and friends, and everything else that made him feel whole.
He was a lost cause, a collapsed light that fell in upon itself. And each time he felt like someone cared, it blew up into something else or died as quickly as it came. A place that left him even more alone than he was when he first came through the gateway. The distinctions between the way of life here and the one he once had, the shock and need to change that no one else understood. The burden was his, and for all the times he tried, there was a content to let it all go the way he had been let go of. He only wished he didn't have to.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." -- Norman Cousins

Supergiant

Moving into his next decade of life, that appropriated place in society and who he is to be from now on. Finding his place in this life, he only wishes to make a difference. Not ever one that had simply been out for himself, but an out of place alien among people who were alien to him. Forever feeling the cast of being this outsider, it didn't stop his will. His purpose previously undefined, ringing through his own ears as people asked questions. What do you do? Why do you do it? What led you there? These were never questioned before, never in that place that is a long lost home. They were duties he was most adept to, the most suited place for him. To do for all and not only himself.
No journey was easy, but to find the path of least resistance, the one with the least pain, that was what he had been taught to do. For that sense of fulfillment to grow, to look upon Repra and know what matters. Holding fast to his memories, he signed up for more than an expectation. He signed up for a life of nothing short of showing he cared. Because if someone can dislike or even hate and hurt others for no reason, he could see the opportunity to care without knowing them. To wish them the best, and willingly hold a hand out to help them up.

"To make a difference in someone's life you don't have to be brilliant, rich, beautiful, or perfect. You just have to care." -- Mandy Hale

Main Sequence

There's a line of snowglobes situated so that he can open and close his eyes to it each night. The glistening from the way that light strikes it even in the dark. The way it shines and sings its songs with the turn of a wheel. A reminder of better things, of better times, moments that are merely memories that will not be relieved. Of times where he experienced something that cannot fade. Shaking it and watching as the false snow slowly falls over the display inside. A smile that creeps in without notice, following that feeling that is deep seeded within his chest. Even in a time of cold, he's left with warmth. The kind that does not just subside, but holds him in place.
Closing his eyes, he can still smell it. That clean, fresh, natural scent. The soft texture, even as it crunches against a gloved hand. The chill that comes when it falls beyond the material and wedges in to touch his skin when he prepares to throw. The laughter that surrounded him, with all the smiling faces, pink cheeks and noses. It was the one time he was the least confused, in the moment. Without question or care beyond what was needed. Light and happy, earning the fun he hadn't felt he experienced in so long. He only wished for more all encompassing feelings and moments. Ones he could add with this ever notable collection.

"Life becomes more meaningful when you realize the simple fact that you'll never get the same moment twice." -- Anchal Mehsanri

Red Giant

There has never been a time where he didn't value his life, his upbringing, the world in which he knew. Of all of Kenope and the wonderment it brought about him. There would never be a time he wasn't thankful for what he once had. One must adapt or die. One must adapt if they are ever to succeed. There is no other life than the one before him, no matter where he goes, no matter what other system, he knows how much this rings true. But sometimes, sometimes he wishes this weren't such a necessity. It drives him to the point of trying to understand things that no one can explain. No one seems to know what anything means beyond what a definition tells him, what their own perception is. Nothing feels as though it was ever explained to them, as if they are all on his own same level of understanding what it is to be human.
Everyone with their thoughts and ideas on why you're wrong, never right. Thoughts on why your ideals are far from the truth. Without reasons why other than their own personal preferences. Without any explicit truth to hold onto and accept, only more of the same from every angle that peeked from a corner to decide you were worth the time of day in that moment. In that second of a thought. The way he's seen it, through each and every time, even as people pick fun of others for not being like them, not having what they have. And something about that hurts. Lost without his own people, even grasping at straws with anyone that may appeal to be similiar. So many wishing to be outcasts, but not listening to how that feels. He only wishes it would all go away and that he could see the humanity of everything, in everything, instead of what keeps finding him.

"The greatness is of humanity is not being human, but in being humane." -- Mahatma Gandhi

White Dwarf

He came to this station looking for a more viable source of income, a warm place to stay, somewhere he wasn't left eating the remains of whatever today's supposed chef chose to be stew. Looking around, all he found was a place to begin digging a foundation for a fresh start, a new home, a new life. But there is no digging into rock and steel. Only dings into the ground, finding it less and less like what the promises of such a start would be. All the claims of what would and could be. He nearly gave up, and in some ways he had. This wasn't the home he wished to build, but it was all that he had now.
Smothered by all the knowledge unlocked, and by that which was left unknown. He went against the grain, instead of moving deeper, treating this the way he would at home, he looked up. More than simply to the stars above, the stars all around, but navigated a way towards the docks. Capitalism brought about the separation of class, and no matter how unworthy of such movement he felt, nor understood, he was here. Finding his own balance, wishing upon every star he could find that it would lead to that feeling he so longed for. That this would feel like home.

"A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it." -- George A. Moore