That said, this is a first attempt, and most of this has no basis whatsoever in the series, so. Pretentious wankery and imagery ahoy. Also spoilers for Jupiter Jazz.
This one goes out especially to kyra because she has Cool Icons.
Eckener. It's a German name, he's almost certain. At least, it sounds German. He doesn't look German, but who does these days? He doesn't look like anything much. He's a citizen of the solar system. Old loyalties are hard to keep when most of the lands people live in didn't even exist seventy years ago. Noone has a country. Personal loyalties are all that's left, and sometimes not even that.
But it doesn't matter whether it's a German name. What matters is that it's his father's name, or was once, and he likes to think it gives him roots, even if he doesn't know where they run.
Guo. The name of a family friend. He got his first saxaphone as a birthday present, when he was ten. It took him months before he could play to the satisfaction of anyone else and years before he could play to the satisfaction of himself, but he kept it up. It meant something. It was something beautiful, and he loved the look on the face of the man who had given it to him when he puffed his way through an entire piece, when he made something perfect. He took the saxaphone with him to Titan, although it was very difficult to manage. And sometimes, despite the continual sandstorms and the occasional bullets and the constant press of the still too-thin air, he'd take it out and play. Sometimes people would clap. Vicious never clapped, but he'd stare at the bell of the instrument with hungry eyes sometimes, like he was thinking of something else entirely.
It's probably still in a locker somewhere in the prison. And the one he bought when he got to Blue Crow is still in its case in his apartment. Just as well. He doesn't have the breath left to play, or the time.
Elijah. This name his father picked out for him, a Christian name, a tribute to a god in which he has never been able to beleive. He wonders now, staring up at the blue sky, whether there's some kind of Heaven waiting for him. He doesn't think so. He could never bring himself to believe in a God, trust, love someone he'd never seen. Love is for the people whom he knows. Comrades.
The reason people want to love an omnipotent God they've never met, it occurs to him, is that God will never betray them. But how can they say God has never betrayed them when every sorrow that their life has contained, God could have prevented? No. Better to trust in those you know. And hope they're worth it.
Mars. He was born on Mars, which is why his mother named him that. His mother's middle name was Wyoming, which was where she was born. When he was a little boy he used to read over and over a books he had, which had a woman called Wyoming in it too, who lived on the moon. Nobody lives on the moon now, and he was sorry for that, because he imagined it would have been very interesting. His mother told him all about the place where she was born. It used to be beautiful, covered in wheatfields, she said, but when she was growing up it was mostly dust. But it's still a nice place to remember. He likes to remeber what it was like when he lived on Mars. Most of it is a desert, but he had friends there.
He'd always told himself that someday he'd go to Wyoming. He's sorry he never got to see it except in photographs.
Grencia. This name was his and his only. It never meant anything else. That can be good too. He called himself Gren, and he played the saxaphone, and he tried to be true to his friends, and sometimes he even managed it. That's all that's left of him. Maybe they'll remember.