#fuck you hermann. let her die

[amystarrstuff]

canto v thoughts???!!!

#amuposting #limbus company #lcb #canto v #canto v spoilers #anon #asks #OHHH MY GOD. OH MY GOD #ishmael being so obsessed with killing ahab was actually really scary at times #those sprites where she's glaring with that smile. haunting #ik dante had their own reaction to seeing her like that but i kinda wish we could see the other sinners reactions too #but either way #her letting it go in the end. and the SONG bro #i will admit when i was at the scene where you have to target the whale instead of ahab i tried to target her anyway AKSFHGSD #fuck you hermann. let her die #anyway the killstealing in limbus company has been crazy so far #demian stealing sinclair's kill of kromer when he SWORE he'd do ANYTHING to kill her as revenge #to ishmael stealing the pallid whale kill from ahab when she bloodied her hands and slept with her eyes open vowing to do it herself #inch resting. #anyway i think the scene with ishmael being helped out of her membrane rewired something in my brain

[mango-dolphin]

playing a game with myself called "inventing a man and scaring myself with it"

Note: Not all of these predictions are meant to be taken literally, more figuratively/metaphorically/so on. You get it. Note 2: lighter the text, the more likely i think it is to be (in part or in full) true

ALSO. thank you @maxknightleyunofficial for the yuri box.

bingo transcribed below [with additional Author's notes!]:

Limbus Company Predictions

Row 1:

Sinner Number correlates to recruitment order. (Which, yes, would imply Dante joined LCB before Sinclair, Outis, and Gregor. No points)

Another character based on a poet (or philosopher) is introduced. HM: Ovid SWEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meursault's source material is his backstory: he works for the LCB because they saved him from the death penalty

The E.G.O gear the Sinners are attuned to all corrode because the gear or their attunements are imperfect. As in: your LC nuggets got that good shit [because the LCB doesn't have Cogito & can't manufacture E.G.O gear: the Sinners have to "connect" to the Abnormality instead, however that works] / are better [than the LCB Sinners]

The psychosis warning is for multiple Cantos and/or side stories, but one of the Cantos needing that warning is Meursault's.

Row 2:

Sinclair goes tree mode. I will not explain any further.

Limbus Company wants to be the new L Corp, or at least be continually influencial to whoever takes the spot.

The Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; [it will be] a constant theme. Dante cannot "eat" (the apple), and thus is not "doomed to die" like the Sinners.** **The Sinners are named thus because they "partook" in the fruit: these moments, from blissful yet tormentous naivete to a sudden sinful upheaval, are highlighted in their Cantos. Gregor's was cutting the apple (crossing the boundary from child to war machine); Rodion's was killing the tax collector (her desire to be a hero completely upended by her actions leading to the deaths of all her neighbors); Sinclair's was following Kromer / letting her into his life (specifically allowing Kromer into his basement and witnessing The Horrors)... **This could imply LCB as the serpent in the garden, but more than anything, Dante is Eve. [Iori could also be the serpent she's got the range. swagever. It'd be funny.] HM: Or even worse, the opposite is true.

Sinners will get upgraded versions of their base E.G.Os; These versions have relation to the shadows cast in their E.G.O portrait.

Ishmael's white whale is a Library of Ruina character.

Row 3:

Faust's Faustian Bargain is classically straightforward: she "sold her soul" for knowledge. HM: The Devil in this exchange is the LCB.

Outis is in the middle of her years-long Odyssey as we speak. HM: It's why she's one of the last Sinners

Purgatorio & Paradiso

Outis, Don Quixote, and Hong Lu are using fake names

Dante (prior to the events of the game) has been on the Outskirts of the City, or even left City limits. HM: They're from outside the city

Row 4:

Gregor is an abnormality / abnormality-like; Hermann's "gift" to him is that. [Honestly he'd be one in the same way Tomerry is, but further than that? He's more than just a genetically modified soldier is what I'm trying to get at.]

Iori

^ HM: Lion, Panther, and Wolf were sent to Dante as a test. [Idk what kind of test it'd be. Trust me.]

At least one Sinner will Distort, and possibly multiple Likely Hong Lu, Ryoshu, Rodion, Heathcliff, Faust, or Meursault. Don seems obvious.* *Colors are likelihoods, not pairs. Though I don't see it likely that they all will distort UNLESS SOMETHING FUCKING HAPPENS *ADDITIONAL hard mode (so hard it's mode): Meursault Distorted before joining Limbus

the golden boughs are the remnants of Carmen's body or essence / the byproduct of the Seed of Light. [That's NERVOUS SYSTEM, baybee!]

Dante goes to Paradiso alone / with only Vergilius (I forgot how it went :( idr if Dante Dante's Inferno went up there alone)

Row 5:

Something bad happened to Gregor's sister :( HM: She's still alive. This is a bad thing. [Leaving my wording vague here on purpose.]

Marie (L'Étranger) is in the Blue Team (with Demian); Gretchen (Faust) is in the Red Team (with Hermann). Gretchen switches teams? [Honestly likely Faust hasn't encountered Gretchen either!]

There is yuri moments and maybe even yaoi moments (not Yuri) SINCLAIR. Yi Sang, Outis, Ishmael, Meursault, Outis again, Hong Lu, HM: Outis Wife Penelope

Angela.

Dante knew Carmen

#mango japery #limbus company #projmoon #bingo #oh god transcribing that took forever. WOE #i'll stand by my golden bough theory it feels way too obvious #carmen LOVES haunting the fucking narrative have you guys taken a look at the decals & graphics in the UI lately #she's in the ID cards she's in the title cards are you fucking kidding me #could've sworn she's in more but my man..... my guy.......... *breathes heavily

[perpetually-sad-but-its-fine]

11x07 of chicago fire

i always loving seeing the girls on fire scenes

STEALLARIDE

they’re so cute!!

THIS ISNT FAIR

im so proud of Stella

she's fantastic and im in love

boden and kidd’s father-daughter relationship is something to live for

hermann and cruz are unofficial besties and father-son

we deserve more of them

we don’t see hermann in charge too often

i love it

who’s this guy that thinks it’s okay to make fun of a firefighter who’s doing his job????

also

thE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN TO HELP?

HUH?

w h o   i s   t h i s   g u y ? ? ?

oH SHIT

THINGS JUST GOT OUT OF HAND REAL QUICK

oHHHH NOOOOO

lieutenant kidd taking charge is everything i never knew i needed

oh who am i kidding

i always knew i needed that

‘hey, john, we’re gonna get you outta here’

john’s gonna die, isn’t he?

oh poor john

poor guy

they're making cry for a character ive known for 8 and a half minutes

john’s definitely dying

definitely

*snort*

‘an expensive midlife crisis... time for a minivan’

sev’s gonna take the bike???

John is sooooo dying

one hundred percent

carver and gallo would be good friends tho

like

if the writers stopped causing unnecessary drama around carver

i could see them being besties

‘weirdo of the week’ is an understatement

LMAOOO the ‘hypothetical’ with ritter and hermann is making me cackle

‘and the friend was maybe dying’

‘and not fun anymore’

‘he could pull through! it’s possible.’

‘what kind of hypothetical is this?’

hermann spiralling to ritter is hilarious to me

I FUCKIN KNEW HE WAS DYING

aw poor hermann

‘you tryna rub a hole through your equipment, cruz?’

‘it’s called cleaning capp. you should try it sometime.’

we love that interaction

kellY LOOKING OUT FOR CRUZ

I FUCKIN KNEW KELLY WAS GONNA GET THAT BIKE

oh wait

mouch???

ohhhh

it’s his midlife crisis

‘do you know how to write a bike?’

‘more importantly, do you know how to fix one?’

‘eh, i'll manage’

sure you will mouch

sure you will

mouch asking kelly for help just as kelly’s leaving?

peak comedy. golden.

fuCKS SAKE

THAT GUY AGAIN

THE FUCK DO YOU WANT MAN????

steLLA KIDD TAKING PICTURES OF HER GIRLS LIKE A PROUD MOTHER

stella looks good in her lieutenants uniform

reALLY GOOD

macy’s mom needs to take several seats

macy made her choice ma’am

either support her or get the hell out

goD STELLA’S GONNA DO SMTHING STUPID BECAUSE OF THIS, ISNT SHE???

hermann’s really showing his age

im living for his crusty father humor

ritter finding katherine in twenty seconds while hermann’s complaining is *chef’s kiss* we love to see it

sylvie brett looks absolutely gorgeous

mouch is giving me second-hand embarrassment and I DONT LIKE IT

capp smirking at mouch makes me cackle

gallo and hermann’s niece??

still??

reassuring husband!kelly is what stella needs

thank you kelly severide

stella please

baby

stop doubting yourself

oH MY GOD

THIS GUY

THE FUCK DO YOU WANT GUY?

WHADDYA WANT?

thank you boden

bro better leave

right. now.

good

he’s gone

‘hopefully that’s the end of it’

wallace

please

we all know that that’s not the end of it

that's nowhere NEAR the end of it

stella testing kylie is adorable

and the worry written on her face??

god it kills me

stella

stop doubting yourself

please

let kylie do what she wants

and SUPPORT HER

ritter is concerned

he’s gonna do something, i can feel it

hermann trying to talk to the automated message is peak father behavior

christopher rambling on the voicemail is so sweet and so cute

kelly you better help mouch

dude’s about to hurt himself

oh thANK GOD

mouch’s sly little shrug to cruz

kelly’s face of ‘oh great, now im stuck w/ it’

oH MY GOD THE HECKLER’S BEHIND THEM

WHY?

god

what the fuck do you want?

gallo and carver’s exasperated look

we love that

WHY IS HERE?!

dude just causes chaos and then leaves

brO GET THE FUCK OUT

thank you random police officer

get him outta here

please

i can't stand this asshole anymore

oh so john’s not dead?

brett’s reaction to hermann is so cute

oh they were serious about turning the washer/dryer area into kidd’s office??

looks nice

OHHHH

RITTER BACKSTORYYYY

oh poor baby

ritter

i love you honey

you’re perfect lovely

yes thank you ritter

you're helping stella w/ this

thank you

mouch wearing sunglasses while standing next to bike that he ‘fixed’ but can’t drive just SCREAMS midlife crisis

its also giving me second hand embarrassment and i can't stand this

truDY

trudy: ‘what’s going on here?’

me: ‘mouch is having a midlife crisis’

LMAOOO

I DID NOT EXPECT THAT

I THOUGHT SHED BE PISSED OFF NOT TURNED ON

LMAOOOOO

everyone in the background smiling and being confused is a meme waiting to happen

‘hop on baby’

GOD STOP

everyone cheering loudly for mouch and platt is adorable

y'all 

THEYRE SO CUTE

the fuck kinda name is edgar weston?

look

edgar

i get you're pissed off

but there are better ways to go about it

than to HARASS a bunch of firefighters

and paramedics

who are just doing their job

ooooo

stella and kylie

yes

aww their banter!!!

also

kylie’s so pretty!

ah god

the heckler

bro

theY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT

THEY DIDNT START THE FIRE DAMMIT

also

god

viOLET

YOURE MAKING ME CRY

hanako’s performance is amazing

oh poor guy

i still don't like you tho

poor violet’s ‘you can’t’ just breaks me

oh john

he’s alive!

oh damn

then what’s gonna be the consequences of his actions

john

you’re overthinking this

hermann is great at giving advice

awwww

that’s so sweet

PFFT

‘i'm the guy who left that very long message’

there are better ways to introduce yourself

im shipping katherine and john and i barely know them

aw stella

awwww stellaaaaa

looking out for her girls!

THATS SO SWEET

cindy and hermann are adorable

oHHHH

THATS SO CUTE

they’re so cute!

awwwwww

AWWWWWW

ohhhh joeeee

how's this gonna go???

please tell me its approved

BRO?

THE SUSPENSE

YES

OH MY GOD

ITS HAPPENING

YESSSS

THATS AMAZINGGGG

THATS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT

#*kissy kissy* watches chicago fire #chicago fire 11x07 #stella kidd #kelly severide #chicago fire spoilers

[fictionalreads]

Chicago Fire Season 10 Episode 18

Joe

LMAO True though! When is this wedding?

Violet

She’s guilty that’s what she is.

I was about to say, damn you can’t even say sorry, but then she did.

Nah go with your gut Violet, something is off about Emma.

Did she just cut you off? Rude.

Boden

….ARE WE GETTING A BODEN CENTRIC EPISODE

When I was excited, like two seconds ago, about a Boden episode, I didn’t mean I wanted him in trouble.

Boden don’t you have a radio?

Sir, if you hurt Boden before he sees his kids get married (yes I’m talking about Stella and Kelly)

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU VOLUNTEER THAT INFORMATION STORE CLERK?

You happened to her idiot!

Store clerk go somewhere and keep your mouth shut.

IF YOU GONNA ESCAPE YOU CANT BE CLUMSY

How does he have a dollar? Didn’t he just escape from jail?

Don’t you dare store clerk. You’re gonna make it worse.

Can we knock this guy out? He’s not helping anybody, just being an ass in a bad situation.

WHY THE FUCK ARE YALL TRYING TO MOVE A TABLE?! Just let the people get you out!

STORE CLERK IS A PROBLEM

Oh fuck he caught them in the back.

Fuuuuuck he’s gonna go out and raise the gun. No DONT do that! You have a life still! Dying, it ain’t worth it. That’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem!

Oh God I’m glad he didn’t die. My heart was racing and my breathing was getting shallow.

Boden you can’t blame yourself. You were on the other side of the store trying to protect other people. You couldn’t have seen that guy.

LISTEN TO HERMANN!! They would’ve died if it wasn’t for you. Especially blabbermouth store clerk. Pretty sure Will would’ve shot him if you hadn’t intervened multiple times.

Miscellaneous

Oh shit Kelly IS the senior most officer now.

11 months? Homie I thought you were gonna say you got a couple years.

You were supposed to do your time. That’s what you were supposed to do. You may have just been the lookout but you were still committing a crime my guy.

Should’ve just done your 11 months, man. Would’ve been over after that. Fuck man now it’s worse for you.

Shoutout to the retired lawyer!

Emma, why you lie?

#chicago fire #season 10 #season 10 episode 18 #chief boden #kelly severide #stella kidd #violet mikami #blake gallo #joe cruz #tony ferraris #capp #mouch #christopher hermann #mason locke #darren ritter

[proficientatfreakness]

Watched Pacific Rim: Uprising

I'm smad. Rant starts under the cut:

Not under the cut because I can't figure out how to add cuts in the app.

The only saving grace is badasses extraordinaire Liwen Shao and Hermann Gottlieb.

It's a fucking Darkest Timeline AU, but poorly written.

MAKO? I'm so sorry baby I'm sorry they'd treat you like that you didn't deserve this

I liked the dark segue in this, but boy it was badly executed.

NEWT??? MY BOY??? Ok I get it I get what happened they ripped you apart from your boyfriend so you flipped and that's understandable and in-character but the end is SUPER ANTICLIMATIC? WHERE'S THE CLOSURE??? WHY ISN'T HERMANN VISITING HIM IN THE POSTCREDITS? HELLO? SCRIPT-WRITING 101? END WHAT YOU START?

Also while I'm on the topic of postcredits, a follow-up on the previous film's post-credits would've been nice? As in, it was done for a reason?

I'm sorry but it's super poorly written to have the ending of the film showing two people who don't know eachother, whose only conversation was "wow your dad was cool", have them pit against eachother as if they were sworn enemies? No one's invested in their interaction? Much less when it would've been much more heartwrenching for it to be Hermann saying that to Newton?!?

Much more Hannibal-ey (as in the silence of the lambs) to have them face eachother with all the unresolved tension, enemies to friends to lovers to enemies again? At least it would've made sense? Because they have history? Because we know they care for eachother? Not in a "it's in the fans heads" but in a "we've shown they care for eachother throughout the first 3/4s of the film"!? We've seen the mind-controlled character breaking from the mind-control and reach out for the other??? And then nothing???

And, dude

The fridging of Mako Mori.

Everything from then on just lost any scrap of respect

The rivalry between Mako and Liwen and their joining forces could've been SO. MUCH. BETTER.

But instead they kill her off. With her brother failing to save her. Wow this is really going to give him some depth of character, amirite viewers? It's not as if, say, he'd already lost his dad to this war?!? Like Mako lost two families to it?!? LET MY GIRL CATCH A BREATH?

But it's even worse. Instead we get John Boyega fighting over Adria Arjona with GenericWhiteGuyWithUSTandBrokenRelationshipWithTheProtag Nate whatever. Just fuck already, no one cares.

And the killing of teenagers because it's a war and people die but don't give them any character, they're just dummies to be burnt- like the Weis and the Kaidonovskys in the first. That sucks.

I am going to selectively forget and heavily edit the rest.

Also what the fuck in the year of the lord 2kfucking18 were they talking about rare earths for fuck's sake that's the oldest con in the book, by then bitcoin already existed, they literally could've said anything else, we're not short on cons?? It's allegedly 2035???

And the thing about "all Kaijus headed to Japan" dude if there is only one entry point: the Breach, and it's in the middle of the Pacific, Manila and San Francisco ARE NOT IN THE WAY TO JAPAN I'M BAD AT GEOGRAPHY BUT NO ONE CAN BE THAT BAD WHAT THE HELL THEY'RE NOT FOLLOWING A MAP THEY'RE ALLEGEDLY FOLLOWING THEIR SENSES THE FASTEST PATH FROM POINT A TO POINT B IS NOT GOING THROUGH POINTS C NOR D NEITHER FUCKING ALASKA IT'S A GODDAMN STRAIGHT LINE PACIFIC RIM DIDN'T HAVE THE MOST COMPLICATED LORE IT WASN'T EASY TO FUCK IT UP ACCIDENTALLY YOU HAD TO DO IT ON PURPOSE

Bad enough the PPDC was kinda enabling a police state and the Jaegers used as their weapons (no big surprise there though, Boston Dynamics anyone)

And I haven't said anything because I don't want to be *that guy* but, come on, first five minutes, the black character is a thief? The only black guy? Wow. Very innovation. Such surprise. Is that why they killed Mako off? Too many (2) asian women?

AND WHILE I'M AT IT? Recycling stuff from previous films is good but the intro was very poorly cut? It was chopped with a dull knife and bleeding on the floor asking for mercy? I haven't even finished my degree and I could whip up a better montage than that?

And using character A to explain to character B the things they did together in the first movie for the viewers is shoddy work at best, and having a third person explain stuff that you're TOO LAZY TO SHOW IS FUCKING BORING??? AND EVEN WORSE, BOTH EXPLANATIONS FEEL LIKE A GROCERY LIST OF TOPICS TO MENTION BEFORE THE TIME RUNS OUT???

In conclusion, I am VERY PISSED OFF

I'm gonna cherry-pick the good stuff (the characters) and drop the dead weights (the backstories, the script)

Don't pay to watch this film, borrow it from a friend and never give the dvd back, you'll be doing them a favor.

Friends don't let friends watch Pacific Rim: Uprising without preparing them for the disappointment, I've had years to prepare and boy it was not enough.

Tl;dr: Just check the gifs on the Pacific Rim: Uprising or the Newmann tag and then go watch Hot Fuzz instead.

#MAKO??? #NEWT??? #but really #most unsatisfying #it's a dark AU #not having any of this shit #rant #pacific rim: uprising #Mako Mori #hermann gottlieb #Newton Geiszler #Liwen Shao

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

Pacific Rim 3

I outline the plot of Pacific Rim 3 as experienced by me in a waking fever dream before and during today's 4am shift as a way to distract myself from real life stress with imaginary stress, written in breaks during work and in the parking lot before driving home because I'm going back to sleep when I get there and I want to preserve this fever dream first before I lose the details of it,

Ok I've been here for 3 hours and I don't know how to do a read more link on mobile I'm sorry you're getting this as is whether you want it or not I need to sleep goodbye

Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen are working on building their own portal to the Precursors to beat them up once and for all

Jake is seen giving an inspiring speech to a new wave of cadets who've been training with the old ones, now fully realized Jaeger pilots. Amara is everyone's favorite instructor.

Jake is very imposing and military and inspiring. Jake is everything the kids need him to be. Jake slips away from the party early and tears off his uniform before disappearing down a side street in his civilian clothes

Nate has the visible emotional human reaction of milk curdling and goes after him

Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen Shao are talking to someone about how they're making progress on the rift but they need help. Someone in particular who knows about alien tech. He's coming in on the next flight, actually. The person they're explaining this to gives a disbelieving "no..."

NEWTON

Wakes up in his house in the middle of fuckass nowhere. Somewhere away from technology he could theoretically use For Evil, or people he could theoretically hurt. This is, however, a self-imposed isolation, as he seems to have been granted his freedom, conditionally.

We see his morning routine, featuring normal stuff like making coffee, panic attack in the shower ft. indistinct memories of the Precursors, taking a massive dose of PPDC-granted experimental medication, starting the car, another indistinct alien trauma flashback, listening to the radio on the way to the airport where people appear to recognize him and he low-key has a panic attack because oh God everyone knows what I did

Jake leaves the bar and runs into Nate, who gives him the old Argh Argh Responsibility And Pride talk and Jake is like yeah man I know shut up

They have a fistfight in the rain and the neon lights in the alley outside the bar

No one properly wins because they've drifted so many times and they can predict each other's attacks but they both land a few and take a few, Jake gets hit a bit more because he's drunk

They both end up just sitting in the rain feeling sorry for themselves

Nate: Jules proposed to her girlfriend.

Jake: I know

Nate: they're getting married.

Jake: yeah that usually happens when someone proposes

So Jules wasn't going to end up with either of them and they're both sad about it. Nate suddenly suggests they go back in the bar. He'll buy Jake a drink to make up for beating him up. Jake is like ok sure but the drink's gonna be soda because I was LEAVING the bar because I was ALREADY drunk

They share a Soda Of Angst at the bar and talk about how they're gonna die alone. Jake says "at least we've got each other" and it's impossible to tell if he's joking. Nate is like "you know what this place isn't that bad we should come back sometime."

Newton reaches the lab. He is terrified of Liwen and awkward around Hermann. He instinctively calls Liwen "boss" and she reminds him matter-of-factly that they're working as equals now, "since you ruined my life's work."

Hermann asks how the medication is working and Newton indicates that it works fine but he still gets anxiety about it not being enough. Hermann promises him it's been proven effective, thus why the PPDC let him out of his crimes against humanity iron cell of shame. It's revealed that what they're giving him is a stronger dose of a medication originally developed for burned-out Jaeger pilots with unmanageable symptoms, and that it blocks out memories related to the drift--and since this is how the Precursors were reaching him, this works to block out their influence. The cost is that Newton doesn't remember much of anything past building his own neural bridge. He knows it happened but the details won't load. He's constantly worrying that it's not enough, that the Precursors will come back, and is taking a dangerously high dose that gives him constant hand tremors and worse insomnia than usual.

The first time he and Hermann are left alone they have an uncomfortable attempt at talking which gradually turns into an argument about nothing in particular. Newt keeps calling him Hermann but it sounds Wrong and Hermann hasn't been allowing people to just use his first name here and he finally snaps at Newton to stop it and he's like "oh my God I can't call you your NAME? what the hell am I supposed to call you??"

Newt says something angsty and Hermann says something like 'yes well the nicest thing that ever happened to me was drifting with a dead and decaying piece of kaiju viscera' and he says it sardonically but he's serious

Newt doesn't remember any context for the time they drifted.

Newt assumes he's being maliciously sarcastic and starts SCREAMING at him

Hermann just looks at him in shock at first then just lets him go for a little while

Eventually shutting his mouth by jabbing him under the chin with his cane and saying, very quietly and coldly, "get out of my lab"

Newton gets out of the lab

Newton runs into Nate and Jake at The Angst Bar and they recognize him but he has no idea who they are but he's willing to just roll with it at this point and asks them if they know Hermann well enough to give him advice

"like that was sarcasm right? I'm pretty sure he was making fun of me but now I'm less sure idk"

Nate's: no he's immune to sarcasm

Jake: yeah it's kinda funny

Nate: *the gaze*

Jake: I mean, nothing wrong with that, but yeah if he was being sarcastic that'd be first time it's happened as far as I can tell

Newt: are. Are you telling me. That someone actually. For some reason. Offered me a sincere compliment. And. I yelled at him

Jake: that's your call, I mean, you know him better than us, right? You guys were friends right?

Newton, who doesn't remember any of these people:

Nate: I mean I wasn't there, only way to tell is to go back and ask him

Newt: aaaaaaa

Newton goes back and Liwen is like "hey I've got no idea what's going on here but can you weirdos just act normal for two seconds so we can get some work done" and Hermann and Newt both just kinda. Laser focus on rift stuff

Remember the guy with the "no why would you involve Newton"reaction? No because he's but important and has no name or real identity? Yeah ok every Pacific Rim movie needs one Designated Douchebag to cause Interpersonal Drama and this guy is it. I'll call him DD for short

DD shows up and is like oh my God you actually turned Newton loose in the lab?? Why would you do this we're all going to die

Everyone just ignores him

Designated Douchebag has the self-importance of a high elf and the confidence of a fucking walnut and doesn't like being ignored

And starts talking directly to Newton, which really freaks Newton out but he continues pretending to ignore him

DD: so you're safe now? Not going to start speaking alien gibberish?

Newton: don't plan on it

Hermann, without turning around: DD you may not like to hear this but it was never your business who we brought in to assist, we don't need your permission, and complaining about Newton now that he's already here is certainly not going to do any good.

DD: alright fine but you'd better keep a close eye on him.

DD: anyways Newton tell your girlfriend I said hi

Newton, blank: who?

DD: you know, Alice?

Newton's face registers several emotions as he grapples with a name from the buried memories-confusion, disgust, terror-mostly shock

There is an abrupt cut

Liwen, thinking her two colleagues were acclimated to each other enough to allow her to leave the room and get tea without disaster, is walking back down the hallway talking with a lab tech when they hear the sound of something breaking

A moment later the doors to the lab are flung open and DD is forcibly ejected, collapsing on the floor in front of them. Dr. Gottlieb exits the lab behind him, holding his cane like a cricket bat. There is a muffled sound of Newton yelling OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

Liwen backs out of range of cane damage and sips her tea, mildly intrigued. The lab tech starts to run for help and nearly crashes into Nate and Jake, who came running to see what the yelling was about.

Nate: what is--

Dr. Gottlieb, panting with restrained bloodlust: HELLO SIRS GOOD TO SEE YOU I BELIEVE THERE'S BEEN A SECURITY BREACH BECAUSE THIS FELLOW HAS JUST BEEN CASUALLY CHATTING ABOUT RESTRICTED CLASS-J49 INFORMATION PLEASE LOCK HIM UP

DD: it's COMMON KNOWLEDGE and he ATTACKED me

Dr. Gottlieb: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID SIR!! *He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes some blood off the handle of his cane*

Nate: WHAT is happening

Newton: *trying to have a quiet hysterical laughter meltdown in the lab before anyone remembers he's there*

Anyways next plot point. An alien shows up

Not a Precursor! A nice alien

Listen if PR:U gets to pull all that bullshit with Mt Fuji I'm allowed to add aliens okay

Hermann should have a nice non-genocidal alien friend I think he deserves it

Anyways the alien is clearly a different species than the Precursors (or Kaiju) and seems friendly but they can't communicate with it, the linguistics team is working on it but it's going to take A Lot of Work

Hermann goes "hm I've got a quicker and more accurate option"and wheels out the drift interface

This alien's mind doesn't link well with human minds but Hermann is a pro and powers through

He gets seasick and throws up and finally comes out shaky with a bloody nose and eye but he's managed to communicate!

The alien is a diplomat from another world the Precursors attempted to colonize, they survived because the Precursors underestimated the humans' resilience and spread themselves too thin, trying to invade earth and the alien homeworld at the same time and then getting distracted dealing with the humans, which left the aliens time to prepare their defense

They're here to help with the war effort, they don't have a lot that's relevant to current human scientific understanding but they can help fill in some of the gaps in the human's knowledge about rifts

They're making progress! Yay!

Things are getting serious, training montage Jake and Nate and the new pilots getting ready to kick ass

Newton finally brings himself to apologize to Hermann and explain he was confused but the net progress here is still zero because then they immediately have ANOTHER argument

Hermann has started writing his notes in the alien's language, he wants to make sure he can remember it well enough to help the linguistics team, and it's also beautifully precise and he just loves it and loves that he's able to write it, come on who wouldn't be proud of being the first contact human

Newton sees a bunch of notes of Alien Gibberish (to him) and gets Bad Vibes

Newton doesn't think they can trust the alien, Hermann does but his proof is mainly "I can tell because I drifted with them" and Newton 1. Doesn't remember what that's like and 2. DOES remember that the last time he thought it was a good idea to drift with an alien he ended up nearly killing literally everyone on earth

They yell at each other some more

At some point Hermann tries to deescalate and asks why they can't be friends again and Newton, still yelling, says "people keep acting like we're friends and I don't remember it! As far as I'm concerned this is all we ever had! I barely remember you at all and what I do remember is that we hated each other!"

Hermann: ....I never hated you. .. alright, colleagues, then? We've got a rift to build

Newton, still hyperventilating slightly: ok ok yeah sure yeah

Interlude: Jules gets married!

She asks Hermann to walk her down the aisle (where she meets her wife, who walked down the opposite aisle to meet in the middle)

Newton, protesting "I don't know I don't feel like I should be here," is physically dragged into the venue by Liwen, who is telling him that this is a diplomatic event it's his duty to be at.

She drags him over to Hermann and settles between them, soaking in the chaotic gay science panic vibes

She seems to be enjoying herself

Jules sees Hermann in the audience and an evil gleam comes into her eye

She has a strong arm

She hurls her bouquet directly at his face

Hermann ducks, panic granting him lightning quick reflexes

The bouquet, travelling at about Mach 5, zooms past him and hits Jake Pentecost squarely in the nose

He inhales several petals of baby's breath and gets slapped in the eyelid by a vine and goes into a dramatic coughing fit. Nate pounds him on the back.

Alien, speaking through a translating device they've got set up (it isn't perfect but it works on a basic level mostly): is it bad luck to touch the flowers?

Hermann, still slightly panicked from the near miss: no it's ahh, there's this silly tradition that whoever catches the bouquet is likely to get married next, and ah, as you see there, sometimes a bride with a sense of humor will, err, intentionally aim it at someone who, uh, didn't necessarily want it?

Alien: I think I understand. My sibling often tells me to go the southern hills of ^°^=^^°^°^^°°= to find a mate, though I have told them many times that I have no such desire.

Nate and Jake are like "ok neither of us have a date I guess we're drinking our sorrows away together at the reception" and do that

And maybe make out a little bit

Neither of them is ready to deal with Feelings so they both just blame it on the alcohol and try not to think about it too hard

Newton, venting @ someone, explains that there's an empty space in his memory where he knows that that something about Hermann is supposed to go and it doesn't feel like the other, worse memories he's blocked out, it feels like he lost something precious, but he has no idea what that is

Hermann tells Newton he's been working on a device that might block out the Precursors' influence without affecting his memory, so he can use all of his knowledge. And so he isn't constantly so confused about who he does and doesn't know but he doesn't say that part

It connects to his skin a bit like a drift interface

Newton is terrified but enthusiastic about maybe being Less Confused All the Time

The fact that he is guarded by a full security detail to make sure he doesn't Become Evil Again the whole time he's going off his meds really doesn't help the stress much

Memories start coming back but they're confused and jumbled and at first he's not much better off

The Precursor nightmares are about what he expected but he keeps hearing Hermann's voice in there too and he's not sure why and he can't remember when he heard it like that

Meanwhile Hermann keeps needing to drift with the alien to clarify important details about the rift that they don't know how to translate into human terms, but it fucks him up a little bit more each time he does it until the last time he passes out for like at hour and wakes up disoriented with a nosebleed that just won't stop and Jake orders him to stop drifting

He's ok with that because they've got the information they needed anyway!

IT'S TIME, THEY'RE SENDING THE JAEGERS INTO THE RIFT

Newton, despite his misgivings, reluctantly joins Liwen, dr. Gottlieb and the alien in command to supervise the mission, still wearing the device and getting random bursts of confused memory

Jake and Nate are piloting the Lady Avenger (did u know gypsy is a slur and they prefer to be called Romani) and go though first and start punching Precursors and their bodyguard Kaiju

Newton goes very still and just stares at Hermann for like a solid minute while he's trying to work, his expression shifting to something new

Hermann, softly: what?

Newton, smiling: I remember you.

Hermann, furiously trying to interpret alien data: is this really the best time??

It's a close fight across the rift, the Precursors are on their home turf and the Jaegers are not, fighting in a bizarre low-gravity environment that doesn't really have floors

Their base is set up differently than expected and Hermann decides he needs to check something with the alien. By drifting with them. He's still bleeding uncontrollably after the last stunt that got him banned but he's determined to do it because It's Necessary

Newton takes the headset from him and puts it on instead

It feels Bad

But then he sees another planet, beautiful, so different from his own yet so similar. He sees aliens attacked by monsters from the deep, responding more or less how the humans had, moving inland, building useless walls, building their own monsters for defense. He sees the alien diplomat losing friends and family.

He sees the journey to earth, and drifting with Hermann. He sees the alien's memories of Hermann, and Hermann's memories in the drift. He sees how Hermann remembers him. What he forgot. What the Precursors had blinded him to.

He doesn't have time to think about it because he's feverishly trying to translate the knowledge he's receiving into data that works with their human technology so they can help the Jaegers and there's blood dripping from his face onto the controls but it's there, in the back of his mind, he knows now. Hermann missed him.

The Lady Avenger is hit and Jake is knocked unconscious. They begin to drift downwards as Nate, unable to move the Jaeger alone, yells at Jake with no response

Newton disconnects from the drift, nearly blacks out, and has to sit down for a minute. When he comes back around he sees the Jaegers are in trouble--none completely disabled yet, but they need more help

Newton has an idea

Newton: ok I'm gonna do something stupid. *To his security detail* listen I need you to aim your guns at me and shoot if you think I'm out of control

Liwen, with zero hesitation, reacting quicker than anyone else in the room, pulls out a gun and sticks it right in his face

Newton: see, yeah, that's what I was saying, like that. Thanks boss, glad someone here's got guts.

Liwen: not your boss

Newton: I kinda like saying it tho

Liwen: hm. I'll allow it.

Newton: ok. Hermann--uh

Hermann, hearing his name said right this time: it's ok

Newton: :) ok cool I'm going to deactivate the blocking device I need you to turn it back on as soon as I squeeze your hand, can you do that

Hermann: absolutely.

The Precursors are a hive mind. In battle, when pressed, they can force their thoughts outwards, confusing and scrambling the communications of other species while keeping in contact with each other. This is going well and normal until there's an unexpected distortion which resolves into Newton's voice

Yelling WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS I'M BACK

(epic Tom Morello riff)

Newton can't keep the connection open for more than a few seconds before they start to overwhelm him, Hermann pulls him back. It was enough to confuse the Precursors and give the jaegers an advantage.

During the delay, Jake wakes up. He's disoriented and in pain and so is Nate, still linked to him, but they can move again. They one-hit-k/o the Precursor that was creeping up on them, turn around, and realize they've drifted almost right into the reactor they've been looking for

So they blow it up

Hermann is still holding Newton's hand as everyone else celebrates. He looks at Newton for confirmation, who nods in relief.

"they're gone. Well, those ones are, anyway."

Humans start opening rifts across the galaxy to kick Precursor ass across multiple star systems

(epic Tom Morello riff intensifies)

Humans team up with multiple alien races previously menaced by the Precursors to take out their common enemy. Jaeger tech is combined with alien science, humans and aliens drifting

They figure out how to use a recording of Newton's Precursor-influenced brainwaves as a weapon to confuse them

So basically Newton makes a recording of himself screaming at the Precursors that's weaponized by teams across the galaxy and it's incredibly cathartic

Jake, in a hospital, is woken up by an infuriating snoring noise. Nate is sleeping in a chair by his bed. He's both annoyed and touched. Mostly the latter.

Hermann writes a book in what is now his third language, the alien script precise and beautiful

We see Newton and Hermann getting dressed together for an Important Event, they're both complaining about having to go but seem not to mind too much. Newton ties his tie too loose, like in the good old days. Hermann fixes it for him.

No one died

The free peoples of the galaxy took down the Precursors with no casualties and the power of screaming

#personal (ok to rb) #pacific rim #what to tag as #headcanons #fanfiction #sorta #humor #extended fever dream that wouldn't let me rest #EVERYONE'S GAY AND NO ONE DIED

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Six : Old Friends

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Red is beginning to crumple under the pressure he puts on himself to take care of Dapper and the stress of being away from his siblings and Anti, but a new sliver of hope arrives in the form of someone who remembers his name. While Doktor has a breakthrough about the way he thinks of himself and his family, Trick is only being drawn closer to Anti as the days go by.

Trigger warnings in this chapter for serious discussions about abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, meltdown/panic attack, vomit, and police chase, including gunshot and injury warnings. Jackie’s meltdown in particular is very intense, so please be careful.

Section Six of Chapter Three: Old Friends

spicydanhowell asked: personally, i'd like to stay here and chat with him, red

The door and the handcuff on it jingle softly as Red returns, unlocking his makeshift cage and pushing into the door, his eyes low and tired and ashamed.

He’s dripping wet and his sweater stinks like filthy pollution rain. He throws it off as soon as he’s in the door and gives a long, deep sigh.

“Dap, how are you - oh.”

His little brother is asleep. Red gives up the ghost and shucks off the rest of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers. Wet fabric is horrible, horrible, horrible against his skin. He sits down on the end of Dapper’s bed and strokes his hair for a second, checking for life in him.

“Chat with him, huh?” mumbles Red. “Talk about something good?”

He’s distant and thoughtful, chewing on a hangnail, a couple bags at his side.

Anonymous asked: Red, the magicians have specifically said that they understand that you have killed the other but are willing to provide refuge for you to protect you. They only want to keep you safe, not letting past events get in the way of this

“Ah,” sighs Red. “Well, that’s… nice of them.”

He stares at the floor.

“Sorry… I know you want to help. I just can’t stop thinking about that house… and how everything was perfect. And it’s like even if I could get away from Anti…”

He laughs to himself, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, rubbing rainwater from his soaked face.

“I can’t get that back. I don’t know what it is to be actually happy anymore.”

He’s silent for a long moment, those faraway eyes fixed on the wall.

“Saw someone today,” he mumbles. “He reminded me of…. someone. But I didn’t know who. Someone important. But I couldn’t remember.”

Anonymous asked: Red, do you actually want to go back to Anti? After everything you saw when you went back in time? I don’t think you want Anti, I think he’s the only thing you’re used to and that’s why you want to go back. You want to go back to what was normal. Which is perfectly fine, but you know it’s going to be bad if you do Red. It’s never going to get better. You wanted to get better, right? If you go back to the environment that Anti built for you you’ll fall back in line again and everything you (1/?)

Red’s mouth starts trembling by about the third line, and by the time he gets to the end of the message, he’s holding his cold bare shoulders and rocking a little, deep, mourning sighs falling out of his mouth as he tries not to cry again. He cries so much lately. He’s just sad, he doesn’t mean to.

What if the only reason he wants to go back to Anti really is that it’s the only thing he knows? Is that why seeing the house changed everything for him?

“No, no,” he groans, rubbing at his face. “I… I’m supposed to be with Anti. We all are. He’s what makes us all who we are. And I - I’m big brother, that’s what I am, I’m Anti’s. If I’m not that, then…”

He clutches at his shoulders, gritting his teeth.

“I can’t start wanting this,” he hisses. “I can’t! It would make it too hard to go back to him. And I have to. I have to see the others again. I have to go back to that. It’s where I’m supposed to be. He told me…”

A moment passes. Dapper’s clock ticks.

“How would I even get away from him if I wanted to?”

Anonymous asked: You were big brother long before Anti had you.

Red’s mouth tightens with the guilt of it.

“Not a good one, then.”

He glances over at Dapper, underfed and pale, hungry and hallucinating on the shittiest motel mattress in the world, bed bugs eating away at him, old scars patterning his chest like latticework.

“If Anti really is bad,” he says slowly. “And he tricked us… I let them all be tricked. I didn’t protect them. Did I? Even now, I can’t take care of him.”

He glances at his gatherings from the day. He wanted to get rice or ramen, but they have no boiling water anyway. He has a Subway sandwich he got out of the trash and some expired bread he bought. But he didn’t steal anything. He knows the cops will be closing in and he’s afraid.

“I need help,” he says. “I need help. I can’t do this anymore.”

Anonymous asked: *softly* Red, if Anti was right outside that door would you open it? After everything you’ve learned? Would you let him back in your life because you’re scared or because you love him?

Red grits his teeth tight in his mouth, a flush of fear coming to his face.

“Look, I just… I can’t live without Anti. I’ll go to prison. I could starve. Dapper could die, sick as he is. Yes, I’d open it. I have to.”

He rubs at his face and then laughs, cold in the little room.

“Anyway… Anti doesn’t knock.”

Anonymous asked: It’s okay, Red, we can help. The magicians can help if you’re willing. Although we need to talk to them first before we can give you anymore information.

“Scared of magicians,” mumbles Ro. “I just want to go back to that house.”

Anonymous asked: hey, magicians!! dok!!! JJ and red!!!!! there’s been a fuck up!!!! stay the fuck away from the church okay!!! anti knows, you gotta get the fuck outta there

Rojo blinks, staring at you.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on - Anti knows where we are? Is he coming to get us?”

He looks back at Dapper again, a light coming on in his eyes.

“He has medicine and food and stuff? Where? The church?”

—————————————–

You find Dok walking stiffly down one of the yellow corridors with Genesis and JP talking calmly to him, leading him onward, out of his room. At the beeping of the message, Genesis flicks out her phone.

“Oh, no,” she says, her face falling.

“What?” asks JP.

Genesis turns and looks at them, putting a hand on Dok’s shoulder. He’s holding his favorite book in one hand, apparently for comfort. The Bridge of San Luis Rey. By Thornton Wilder. Set in Lima, Peru. Trick bought it for him in Norway. He knows the whole thing by heart.

“Let’s go sit down with the others and talk about it,” she says. “We all need some breakfast, huh, Wilder?”

bupine asked: heyyy, magicians. i'll cut right to the chase. i accidentally kinda gave the demon the location of the place you planned to meet red and dapper. i was giving the location to blue and trick, because trick seemed to be coming around to the idea of running away from anti and i wanted to help get them all together again. but trick was anti in disguise, and i didnt know until it was too late. i think he's coming to where you are. i'm so sorry, i really didn't know!

The magicians are having the same breakfast they always do - cheap, warm rolls with butter, cheese, ham, and apricot jam. Coffee, water, apples, and plates and silverware coat the white tablecloth of the long table, and by the time Genesis sits down, you are a part of the chatter and bustle of all of it. The three children you saw earlier are fighting over the last piece of cheese on their side of the table, Juana and Nina chat gently, JP wheels into place too hard and makes the whole table shake, and Genesis punches Hermann’s shoulder as she sits down beside him, making him laugh. The Old Man is sitting beside Emmanuela on the other end of the table and his eyes narrow coldly at Dok.

“Want to sit here, Wilder?” asks Hermann, patting his other side, and Dok slinks slowly down, ashen. Hermann passes him food and coffee to keep him distracted and begins chattering about his book to keep the conversation light.

“Actually,” Genesis cuts him off, her voice low with disappointment. “I, uh. Think there’s something everybody needs to know. Emmanuela?”

Emmanuela glances at you and pulls out her own phone, checking the system. For just a second, she closes her eyes, but then she has put the phone down again, and her face is calm.

“Well,” she says. “The more people know a secret, the more difficult it is to keep.”

“What?” asks Dok, frowning. “What is it?”

“We had told your brothers they could meet us at a place in town if they wanted to,” says Hermann. “But now it looks like the monster found out.”

Dok drops his knife.

hollenka99 asked: The church is going to be compromised. Anti has been reading some of our messages and discovered the plan. Is there anywhere else you could pick up the two brothers who are still on the continent if they wanted to come?

“I’d drive to get someone,” offers JP.

“No,” says Emmanuela. “You must continue searching for a way to help the sick magician.”

“No point,” scoffs the Old Man, smearing jam over his roll. He chooses to speak in Spanish and your translation software buzzes back to life. Dok shrinks away from his gaze. “I’ve told you already, magic that is stolen like that cannot return the same way it went out. A part of him is missing; he will be crippled for the rest of his life.”

“There might be other ways to return his strength or his magic to him,” insists JP, frowning. “Or even just to ease his pain.”

“I’ll go,” says Nina.

“You’ll risk nothing with the baby in your stomach. It’s pointless anyway, they’d have to be in Peru, in our jurisdiction. Some of our surrounding neighbors were not so amicable to the idea of us taking in those who helped the monster burn part of the forest down and kill more than one magician that night. If they are not in Peru and not willing to come back to us, we can’t help. And now, Peru might not be safe…”

She looks over at Doktor. His fists are bunched tightly in his white coat. He stares at his butter.

“You can’t move him,” says Nina, in Spanish too. “He hasn’t even adjusted to this place yet. He barely trusts us, let alone other magicians who might be angry at him for what the monster did to the jungle. His anxiety is too high even as it is and I don’t trust anyone else to look after him. He has to stay here, Mama.”

Anonymous asked: Red if you go back to Anti you will never make it to that house again. The magicians can help you, really, they’ve promised not to hurt any of you and they’d give you space and freedom that you’ve never had before. It’ll be the closest thing to “that house” at this moment. I know it’s scary but I promise they are good people with an abundance of compassion.

“Well,” sighs Red, rubbing the back of his neck. “Doesn’t sound like that’s an option now anyway.”

Just about starved, he reaches for the wrapped up sandwich and begins to pull the paper off, hoping to find that it isn’t gross from the trash. Luckily it was wrapped up tight and it looks fine, just badly burnt on one side, which is probably why it got chucked.

“Ugh, tuna,” he grumbles, but he isn’t really in a position to complain. He pulls off his half of the sandwich and begins to eat, and a moment later, there is a small white hand sneaking towards the other half of it.

Red can’t help but laugh. “You can take it, it’s for you.”

But Dapper doesn’t smile back at him even as he takes the sandwich and grabs it to his chest, glaring around the room, his face twitching badly, his eyes constantly flickering up to the lights. Up, up, up.

“Something up there?” asks Red, trying to be gentle.

“Locked me in my room,” growl Dapper’s hands. “Angry.”

“Alright,” grumbles Red, turning away from him before he can get pissed. Dapper gives a little gasp as something grabs his ankle, but when he pulls his foot out of the blankets, there’s nothing there. He stares sorrowfully down at his tuna and clicks for attention.

“What?”

“Maggots!”

Red looks at his sandwich.

“No, there aren’t. It’s tuna. You’re seeing things. Please eat it. You need to get some strength back.”

Dapper gags and sets it down, watching the meat writhe. Red sighs.

cest-mellow asked: magicians, when this gets to you, anti knows about the church and he knows you guys are in lima still

“He knows where I am,” mumbles Dok, barely loud enough for anyone to hear him, clutching at his coat. “He knows I’m here, he’ll come get me.”

He chew on his lip for a second, his eyes foggy with the shock of it.

“Santo Domingo,” he mumbles to himself, holding his book tight to his chest.

Anonymous asked: Hey dok how are you handling things right now?

He is not going to cry at the breakfast table. He is not going to cry in front of strangers. He is gripping his coffee cup very tight.

“I want,” he says, with a strong voice but weak air. “To see Trick again.”

Emmanuela nods at Hermann, who leaves your view for a moment and comes back with a tray. Genesis starts loading Dok’s breakfast onto it and Dok is grateful for the permission to flee, even if he only got here a minute ago. Before they have everything ready for him, he has already run away, back to his room, where he always stays.

Nina gets to her feet. Everyone looks at her.

“What?” she says. “He’s already freaked out. Might as well go ahead and do that check-up I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh, Nina, be gentle with him,” groans Hermann.

“Being gentle is all well and good for a while,” she says, following after him. “But sometimes if you want to set a bone back in place, you have to shove real hard.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Magicos, please be cautious with Dok. He can have quite the temper when he snaps.

“Oh, a temper, huh?” says Nina, putting up her chin. “I hope he comes at me. I’ll kick his stubborn little teeth in. No, I don’t mean that. But he better not try anything!”

She heads down the corridor that leads to his room, her med bag thrown over her shoulder.

“You know, I was married before JP,” she says. “And he was an ass. But I wouldn’t leave him. He got worse and worse as the years went on and I wouldn’t leave him. Because I loved him and he was all I knew and it was just too much, to admit that I had been that wrong about him in the first place. Eventually it was JP who pounded it into my head that he was a shitbag. I was furious with him at the time - cut him out of my life, actually. But he told me the truth when no one else could, and because of that, I was finally able to…”

She’s stopped outside Dok’s open door.

One of the backpacks is missing and he isn’t inside.

“Oh, fuck,” she says. “Just like that, huh?”

Anonymous asked: Magicians, ever since the demon stole Marvin's magic, he's becoming physical. He has actual blood now. He's becoming corporeal. It may be a stretch, but I think, maybe if you team up with tons of you, you can actually kill him. Maybe start planning for something big. He's headed your way, he thinks two of the brothers will be at the church. Don't send your men there. Stay hidden until there's a more concrete plan.

“Don’t think I don’t see these too,” snarls Dok, his breathing shaky and afraid. He’s moving swiftly down past a great white wall. “You and them - you’re going to hide me from Anti and hurt him if he comes for me!”

immabethehero asked: Hermann, Genesis? Anti, the demon with the magician's magic, knows where dok is. he knows where red and dapper are too. you might wanna find them before anti finds you both

“Oh, he knows where the others are too?” worries Juana from the other side of the table. “He will snatch them up again. How are we to - ”

“Hey,” shouts Nina, reappearing in the dining room. “He made a run for it just like that. Let’s get up and grab him before he goes far.”

“He won’t make it anywhere,” says JP, blinking. “Sure you don’t want to just let him tire himself out trying to find a way to escape?”

“He’s cleverer than you think he is,” warns Nina, her eyes flashing. “And I’m worried about what he might do to himself trying to get out.”

“Go look for him,” says Emmanuela. “But be careful. He is not a large man, or a particularly strong one, and I wouldn’t even call him a fighter - but sometimes, men like that must learn ferocity to make up for it. You don’t know where his head is. Go.”

Anonymous asked: H, what are you doing?

“Where are Red and Dapper?” he says, ignoring you. “Close? Are they safe? Could I get to them by bus? Do they know about the church yet? We’ll have to pick somewhere else since the magicians now about that one. Depending on where they are there are several places we could choose. I’ve been here too long. I’ve been here much too long. Complacent! What would Trick think if he knew I’d just been waiting? That I’ve abandoned him, most likely! No more. Time to go. It was stupid of me to wait here.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, no one is going to hurt you...well, except for Anti who WILL when you get back.

“I don’t care,” snarls Dok. “I don’t care. That’s my family. That’s where Trick is, and Blue, who needs me, he’s ill. And the others will all be there. You think I don’t know Anti hurts me? Anti’s always hurt me. Me and Trick, we linger at the edges of his affection. Trick’s always striving for it, but me - ”

His eyes shine with moisture. His mouth trembles but his voice does not.

“I know my place. I know who I’m supposed to be. And a spoiled little hideaway - eating jam and rolls while my brothers struggle without me to look after them - no, that is not who I am. Let Anti torture me. He knows where we stand. I don’t care about him.”

But this only deepens the hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t! I can live without him loving me! I can, I can! I accepted it a long time ago, so why does it never stop burning in me like this? I have to take care of the others. No one can take care of me. It’s not who I am and it never will be. I belong at the bottom of the pack!”

Anonymous asked: Dok please don’t leave

“Stupid magicians,” laughs Dok, almost wild with it, his face burning as he moves, approaching a high black gate. “That’s what they get for all eating together. For all being equals. If it was my home, Trick would be guarding and no one would escape.”

He leaps onto the black gate and, with a dexterity you’ve only seen Red embody, he begins to hoist himself up, pressing his feet against the slick bars of the gate and reaching up for the bar at the top.

“I know something magical hides this place,” he murmurs, his eyes flashing. “I hear the way they talk. My memory is perfect. I’ll figure it out. They can’t keep me here. I am Anti’s brother and Red’s and Dapper’s. I am sly and strong and crafty too. I can be everything I need to be. You have to be, in my family, or you’ll regret it.”

Anonymous asked: Dok then convince your brothers to come to the magicians! It’s safe with them you know that!

“They don’t like Anti! They’ll hurt him! He’s a part of me! He made me what I am! I’m nothing if I’m not with him.”

His hands reach the bar on top and he throws himself over the side, tearing a deep line in his beautiful white coat and gasping as it bruises hard along his ribs.

“Fuck!” he wails, grabbing his side, but it’s just pain, and pain for Anti’s sake, and how many times has it been pounded into his head that that is worth it, worth it, worth it, deserved. Your fault. You shouldn’t have let her grab you in the first place, Doktor. You shouldn’t have let yourself be stolen when your family needed you. He needs someone to punish him. He needs Anti.

bupine asked: henrik, no one deserves to be treated like shit. none of you should be "bottom of the pack", you should be equals. that's how family is supposed to be. you and your brothers deserve so much better than that.

“I could have run any time I wanted to,” says Dok, and his voice shatters, but he’s still trying to keep running, out into woods now, great woods of flowering trees. “I could have! Blue pulled me down to the beach. He doesn’t remember but I do. I was never strong enough to fight Anti. I’m not strong enough to be alone. I don’t know why I don’t leave him! I don’t know! I don’t want to have to think about it anymore! It’s not fair! I’m so fucking good for him!”

He screams and his feet fail him and he crashes to the ground for a second, stone grinding against his skin as he cries out. He can hear someone shouting behind him.

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m good all the time! I’m not disobedient, I don’t fail him! I don’t ask for things! I don’t complain! I’m good but I’m still not enough! If I was enough he wouldn’t treat me that way! That’s why I’m at the bottom, there’s something wrong with me.”

He screams again, striking a tree as he rises and keeps running.

“I don’t deserve to be free or treated well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But if there wasn’t something there, he wouldn’t treat me like this. He would love me like he loves Dapper. He doesn’t. So I deserve it. I deserve it! I have to be better. Maybe if I come back to him he’ll be pleased with me. But even if he doesn’t, I know I’ll keep bearing it. I don’t know why! I don’t know!”

asexualzucchini asked: Jackie, Henrik, JJ, anti is physical. He can be hurt now

Doktor nearly stumbles back down to the earth again, his breath catching in his throat, crashing into a tree and coming to a halt, panting.

“Anti is what?”

——————-

Ro’s head whips up, alarmed. “I’m - what did you say? That’s not possible. That’s not what Anti is.”

Dapper is staring at his own hands, confused.

“Physical…? Lastingly?”

“That’s why he can’t find us,” gasps Red, rising to his feet. “He can’t just zap over here and look!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, he would have found you by now if he wasn't physical. He can't find any of you without access to a computer.

Red stalks around the motel room, chewing on the hangnail again, thinking, while Dapper watches him and the monsters swirling around him with big tired eyes. He is holding his bear close to his ear so he can hear it better when it speaks.

“You know what this means, right?” says Red. “We have to find a way to tell him where we are without him tracking exact signals. We have to cause a scene. I need to go out again. I - I’m going to get in a fight with the cops! Then he’ll know exactly where we are! And even if I get arrested, he’ll come take care of you!”

“I was not,” Dapper is signing to his bear, apparently cross. “And I didn’t - no! None of you ever listen to me. Of course, but that’s just what dead things do.”

Red isn’t watching him. He’s tugging back on his soaked clothes and shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

Anonymous asked: Red what the fuck? That’s the worst idea! No! Don’t do that! What are you thinking?

“Then Anti will know where we are!” he says, panting a little. “It’ll be in police records, news, things he can access from far away, without having to be right here! And he’ll know exactly where we are and when he comes back he’ll be able to find Dap and maybe me too if I get away. Dap, I’ve got the room for a couple more nights, so you can just sit tight here, right?”

“Red is going to lock me in again!” cries Dap to his bear, and crumples back onto the bed with real distress.

“Hopefully I’m back in an hour or two, but if not, Anti will come scoop you up and then everything will be okay.”

“Just trying to sacrifice himself so he feels like he’s my hero! Stupid Red! Don’t leave me here! I want to go with you!”

“Dapper, no.”

“Better fighter than you are!”

“No, you are not!”

Dapper is sitting ram-rod straight on his bed suddenly, his blue eyes flashing.

“Beat you. Gas station. Beat you.” He pauses and blinks and then whirls on his bear. “No, I don’t want to do it again!”

Red shrinks slightly away from him, startled.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, you think Anti loves Dapper? Really? You think he loves the one he infantillizes, the one he locks away, the one he isolates from the rest of you, only to let him out when he can kill someone in Anti's name? That's not love. Anti doesn't love Dapper, or you, or any of your brothers. Everything he's ever done has proven that.

Doktor tries to push himself back up and keep going, grabbing at his face for a second, coughing.

“He… he beats Dapper and locks him in. Sometimes I hear his little nails scraping against the door. And he wants to be with the rest of us, but that’s not… Anti can’t just be - ! Please, stop saying these things! I can’t stay here any longer, I’m beginning to wish I could stay…”

He shoves himself onward, racing through the trees, until he sees the end of them, and pushes through at last, revealing the -

Exact… same convent he just escaped from?

“Wilder!” calls Hermann, opening the black gate he leapt over, except now it’s on the right side of the building instead of the left. Doktor blinks, aghast. “Come back, please! You’ll just exhaust yourself!”

Doktor backs away towards the woods again, panting. He needs to hide, then, if running won’t work!

spicydanhowell asked: Red. I say this lovingly when I say: Get your head out of your ass. Anti is physical, and stealing Blue's magic is tearing him apart. He is too sick to hunt you down. If you get yourself locked up, you will just rot in prison. Anti could easily die in the state he's in right now. And then where will we be? You'll be behind bars, and Dap will either be kidnapped or arrested or murdered or hospitalized or something if he doesn't just die alone without you. Please just do what's right for Dapper.

“I can’t do anything right for Dapper!” shouts Red, slamming his hand against the wall and then regretting it, immediately, when it makes Dapper jolt. “I’m sorry.”

Dapper turns away from him and curls up in his bed.

“I… don’t have to get into a fight, per say,” decides Red, rubbing his hands along his wrists, trying to calm himself down. “But he can’t go on like this. I’m breaking into a pharmacy. Dap, I’m going to go now, before they talk me out of it. I’ll come back with antipsychotics or I won’t come back. Okay? It’s my job to take care of you.”

“We used to be equals,” moan Dapper’s hands frailly. “We used to look after each other.”

He buries his face in his pillow, and so it is that Red misses the faint silver light coming back to his eyes.

“I’ll get you help tonight, bud. Something has to change. We can’t go on like this. Goodbye, Dap.”

He’s shoving his bag back into order already, refusing to so much as look at Dap. Refusing to listen.

Dapper shivers and holds himself. A million voices are laughing at him. The great time traveler, helpless again, alone as always.

“He’ll come back,” hisses Dapper, tears and anger welling in his eyes as his hands flash. “I will make him come back if I have to. I am an adult. I get to make choices too! He’s right about one thing - something has to change tonight. I’ll show him, if he won’t listen. I’ll show him!”

The clock in his hand is burning so hot you see his palms turn black.

Red scoops up the camera and leaves, locking the door behind him.

Anonymous asked: You will not be able to help your brothers like this. Anti will more than likely tear you all apart from each other the minute he finds you all. You won’t be able to take care of anyone like that. If you brought them to the magicians you’d be able to do your job with an abundance or resources at your disposal. Think about this Henrik, please.

You sit with Henrik curled beneath a bush. He’s grabbing at his head, rocking himself a little, wishing for Trick.

“No, I hate this,” he cries.

The birds are singing and the sun is clear and everything smells of flowers.

“I hate being with strangers instead of my family. I hate that no one here understands. I hate that I have to struggle with this! I don’t want to! It’s too hard, I can’t do it! You don’t know how fucking badly it will hurt. I can’t just accept this - that so much of my life has been a lie. That so much of it has just been a humiliation!”

He is weeping into his hands. Into his coat. Into the earth.

“It can’t be true,” he sobs. “It’s too horrible. I don’t want it to be true. I’m not strong enough. I think about it all the time. You don’t understand. I can’t stop thinking about everything he’s done to me and telling myself - no, no, I must be remembering it wrong, or I must have deserved it, or - ”

“Weird how abuse works, isn’t it?”

Dok chokes and whirls, turning to see Genesis standing a few feet away, kicking up the dust around her feet, leaning against a tree.

“How did you - ”

“Transportation, remember? I just checked about every spot in the forest. You aren’t great at hide and seek, are you, medico?”

Dok rubs hastily at his face. Just one more humiliation.

“I wasn’t… I’m not… I’m not abused. I’m not. He can’t have.”

Genesis lets out a long sigh, and then she glances at you.

“You guys have internet, right? Can you tell me some of the symptoms of abusive relationships?”

“Don’t,” croaks Dok. “Don’t…”

“If it’s not true, you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

Anonymous asked: H, you can stay. Just give the magicians a chance. You don’t have to figure out or unravel every inch of your trauma tonight but you can go back and figure it out bit by bit with help. It’s okay to want something that Anti does not, it does not make you incompetent or disobedient. You are allowed to make your own choices, you are an adult and you are free.

“No,” mumbles Doktor, exhausted. “No. No more middle ground. I can’t bear the back and forth. Either he hates me or he loves me. Either I must be trying to get back to him or I must be staying here. All week I’ve been ‘bit by bit.’ And yes, wanting something Anti doesn’t want… that would be disobedience. I disobey or I run back to him.”

Hermann, panting, has caught up to Genesis, and when he catches sight of Dok he rushes forward to help. But his friend’s hand comes out to stop him, holding him back.

“Give him a moment,” says Genesis. “Give him a moment. Wilder, you already know what the truth is.”

Dok shakes his head, gripping his hair.

Anonymous asked: Sorry Henrik... “A more sophisticated form of psychological abuse is often referred to as “gaslighting.” This happens when false information is presented with the intent of making victims doubt their own memory, perception, and sanity. Examples may range simply from the abuser denying that previous abusive incidents ever occurred to staging bizarre events with the intention of confusing the victim.” (1/?)

Doktor covers his face with his hands.

He remembers a great white burn on Trick’s hand. Anti told him to take care of themselves while he was away. Trick was cold. He started a fire for them. When he came back, Anti punished him for disobeying him. Trick didn’t know the smoke was against the rules.

‘You should have,’ said Anti. ‘You should have.’

Trick’s hand is still burned. Mind games. Haldol they were never told to pick up from the pharmacy.

“He just has a bad temper,” groans Doktor. “That’s all.”

Anonymous asked: “A common form of emotional abuse is “I love you, but…” That may sound nice at first, yet it is both a disguised criticism and a threat. It indicates, “I love you now, but if you don’t stop this or that, my love will be taken away.” It is a constant jab that slowly strips away your self-esteem. Abusers get a lot of reinforcement out of using the word “love” as it seems to become a magic word to control you.” (2/?)

“Anti doesn’t care enough to tell me he loves me,” mumbles Dok. “So that one… doesn’t count.”

Anonymous asked: “Abusers at times do what I call “throw you a bone.” The partner was “nice,” “complimentary,” “gave me a gift,” etc. as if it should erase all of the bad treatment. You need to understand that this is part of the dynamic and cycle of abuse.” (3/?)

Candles on Hanukkah.

Doktor is sobbing.

Hermann comes up beside him and puts his hand on his shoulder, in silence.

Anonymous asked: He doesn't want you to know it yet; can you respect that a little longer? You can call him Doctor, or Doctor H?

Genesis sighs, running her hands through her hair.

“I guess? I mean, at some point - ”

“No,” says Nina.

She steps up beside them, her hand on her belly.

“Medico, look at me.”

Dok stares at the earth. Hermann’s hand soothes the muscles of his arm.

“You aren’t just realizing this,” she says. “No one just realizes things like this. Things like what they told you. For months, you’ve suspected. All week, I think, you’ve known. You’ve known. It’s just scary. I know. Trust me, I… I know. But you don’t have to get stuck. You don’t have to be the person he told you to be.”

She leans down, crouching beside him and Hermann.

“What’s your name?” she says. “What’s your real name?”

bupine asked: his name is henrik von schneeplestein, genesis.

“Anti stole it from me,” he tells her. “He stole it. It isn’t mine anymore.”

“Then take it back,” Genesis answers, above all three of them. Her short dark hair, cut by Anti’s hand, is beginning to grow out again.

Scars along his arms, along his hands. Wind in his hair and earth beneath him.

“Take it back. It’s yours again, or it could be, if you wanted. Come stay with us. Really, this time. Come stay with us. Start trying to take it back.”

Hermann is holding on to him. “My friend,” he says. “No more denying the past.”

Doktor looks at him, and meets his eyes, and sees Trick in him.

“My name is Henrik,” he says, very softly. “I fix hearts.”

Anonymous asked: hey dok? i was really attached to an abuser too. even though he told me that real things that i remembered happening weren't real and he pushed my down a flight of stairs and kicked me under the table and pinched my arm, i was so attached to him, and i thought i would be nothing without him. but the thing is that that's just what abusers teach you to think. they teach you that you are vulnerable and worthless and that they are the only one who can take care of you, but it's not real. i'm sorry.

“Sometimes we can’t see it for what it was until we’re out,” murmurs Genesis, and Nina nods with her, because they know, they know.

“Shit,” whispers Henrik, with fervor, hiding his face again. “Shit.”

They let him sit there for a long time.

“I always let myself believe it was just a bad temper… or that we had to live the way we did, because we were hiding.”

A pair of finches chase each other through the branches.

“And the memory loss, fuck… I knew something had been taken from me, but I couldn’t admit it. It was too frightening, knowing he might have really done something so horrible. Taken my life away from me… taken everything. Except Trick. I guess that’s why I stayed. He gives you one thing to hold on to… and when you only have one thing left, you can’t let it go.”

Hermann has put his head down on his shoulder.

“But so often the thought occurred to me - this isn’t right. I shouldn’t let him. He can’t do this to us. But I never stood up. I was too weak.”

“It’s not weakness,” murmurs Nina. “It’s survival. Henrik… you survived.”

He’s here.

He’s alive.

He’s still fighting.

“You’re still surviving.”

Anonymous asked: H, you are enough, you’ve always been enough. If I could I’d give you the biggest hug right now, schatz. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, nothing would change if you tried to prove yourself to him, nothing, and it’s not because you aren’t enough it’s because he doesn’t know what having a family means, he doesn’t care about family he just wants attention, all of it. You have proved time and time again that you are stronger then him, you are kind and grateful, you are so much more than enough.

He’s so fucking tired.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, to all of you, and means it.

It’s just a start.

It’s just a start.

But he’s waited a long time for the chance to start again, if only in the smallest ways, if only in a whispered name, if only in a tiny, powerful admittance he makes to himself, a secret that has been building in his chest for months and months and months:

Maybe I’m not the problem.

Maybe Anti is not what he tells us he is.

Maybe Anti is not even a part of my family.

I can’t let him treat my family the way that he does any longer.

No more excuses.

“Medico, you okay?” asks Hermann gently.

“Thank you,” Henrik repeats in a mumble, his body going a little limp, and Hermann startles and reaches up to grab his other shoulder, giving a small gasp when Henrik slumps back against him, his eyes suddenly gone glossy and dull with exhaustion, and when they call his name, again, again, he does not answer, breathing slow and tired through his nose and staring down at the ground, his hands flexing gently.

---------------

Anonymous asked: Oh my god, is what you said true Anti? Really? You're just doing this all so pwecious mastew will notice you. All you ever wanted was Jack's attention. Makes sense the 7 year old acts like a toddler. I know these asks make you pissy. Not the type of attention you're looking for hm? I bet you wish we would love you again. Or that any of your brothers would love you without mind control. Or that Jack would let you anywhere near him.

Trick and Anti are sitting together in the living space. You hear a bag rustling as they share a tube of Ritz crackers, their legs close together, their heads bent down.

“Yeah, okay, but Anti, you can do it without glitching it out!” giggles Trick.

“Those ones aren’t - Sometimes I just glitch, you little ass!”

Trick laughs hard, poking the screen to distract him, and Anti growls and shoves against his shoulder. Trick shoves right back, and pretty soon, bent over a clean little Nintendo Switch, they are all but wrestling. Determined, Anti keeps the Switch in his hands even as he pushes Trick back against the empty steps and squishes him into the ground, his body tangible and warmly heavy on top of Trick’s own.

“Ah! Uncle, uncle!”

“What was that? What was that? Sorry, I’m killing these goblin things, I can’t - ”

“Anti!”

Anti gets off him, smirking, and Trick groans in fake hurt, flopping across the stairs. After a moment, Anti pauses the game and turns to look at him, handing him the Switch back. He lets out a long, thoughtful sigh, running his eyes over Trick.

“What?” murmurs Trick, smiling at him. He reaches out to touch Anti’s head, tangling his fingers through his hair for a second. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it. You like your thing?”

Trick hugs the Switch to himself, humming.

“Yeah, I thought you would. Game consoles are easy, you can have any game you want.”

“You look tired.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Anti, leaning back to lie beside him. “Go on, play. You can tell me about it. I like to watch.”

“Oh, I wanted to check in with the cameras today.”

“Okay,” says Anti, rubbing at his face and tossing another cracker into his mouth.

Trick hands him a camera and Anti re-enables your voices.

Trick’s face falls a little.

“Is this how they talk to you?”

Anti’s eyes slid slyly open at you as Trick reads through the messages.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, but Trick, with a little frown on his mouth, scoots a little closer to him and puts his hand down on his knee, soothing his palm across the bone. Anti allows it, relaxing, his eyes circled slightly in blue.

Anonymous asked: I fucking knew it that bastard, “what part of this doesn’t look like I’m taking care of him” arrogant asshole I hope it bites him in the ass

“He is taking care of me,” protests Trick, sinking down beside Anti. “He is!”

Anti glances out of him out of the corner of his eye, humming fondly as Trick continues his nervous shuffle towards him, always wary of being pushed away. Anti’s eyes flicker across his body and then he reaches out to hook an arm around Trick’s waist, squeezing him closer, and Trick all but melts.

“Things aren’t easy right now,” says Trick, staring up at him. “But we’re doing okay.”

“Of course you are,” says Anti, and for a second his eyes swim deep, deep black, and Trick sways a little beside him, clutching woozily at his knee.

“Mm-hm,” he mumbles, smiling at him. “Of course I am.”

Anonymous asked: damn... we can't even call him a glitch bitch anymore, anti's practically a flesh boy

“Yeah, that’s been weird, hasn’t it?” murmurs Trick, leaning back against his chest. “But it’s like on and off, really strange. You feel tangible now.”

“I’ve always been able to seem tangible.”

“Mh.” Trick tugs at the laces of his hoodie. “I hear you coughing sometimes at night.”

“It’s not as bad as it was. Maybe the curse will settle soon.”

“I hate those magicians,” grumbles Trick, his hand reaching out to snatch Dok’s handheld on the ground beside him. “They should come after you again, I’ll show them who they fucked with.”

“Of course.” Anti seems relaxed by his blood-thirst. “And then steal your Dok back.”

“Yeah! So you think he’s okay?”

“Good reason to think he is,” says Anti, glancing at you.

“Hell yeah,” beams Trick. “Next week?”

“Next week.”

Trick snuggles down against his chest.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Was that really necessary, Anti? He's already a puppy to you. Leave poor Trick alone.

“He’s happy, what’s the matter?” snaps Anti, ignoring a bewildered look from Trick. “He’s happier than any of his brothers right now, I guarantee. It’s easier to be right here with me, isn’t it, lil Stammer? Isn’t it?”

Trick laughs and blushes, nodding.

Anonymous asked: trick, pick your side. anti just ripped blue out of his hospital bed and broke his nose, and told him he'd never be free. so either go to him, and turn your back on anti for good, or put your muzzle and collar back on, and sleep at his feet. anti's dog, or blue's brother? it's about time you decided.

Trick’s face falls.

He looks up at Anti, and then down at you, and then up at Anti again.

When he speaks, his voice is soft.

“Did you really break Blue’s nose?”

Anti is interested in his nails. His ears are pink, and, today, so are his cheeks, changing color with the anger and the other feelings in his eyes, emotions you’re not sure you recognize.

“Got upset with him,” growls Anti, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trick pauses, his mouth slightly open.

“You… can’t be doing that. What was he going to do, Anti? He’s too sick to do anything.”

“He was being - ” Anti hisses and rubs at his face. “He was being - I got pissed off, okay, I wanted him to come home!”

Trick stares at his shoes, picking at the laces. Immaculately clean Converse, given to him by Anti a long time ago.

“Me too,” he says. “But can’t be hitting him.”

“Whatever, Trick, listen to them, then!” says Anti, suddenly screaming, and Trick jolts hard, curling slightly in on himself. “I get it, alright, nobody wants me if they’re not out of their fucking mind, I get it! You can prove them right, you can be like the rest of your brothers, you think I can’t feel my strings loosening, you think I can’t tell they’re being changed while they’re away from me? And my own body is a weapon to me now, sure, listen to them!”

Trick is on his feet, his head down, heading towards his room.

“I get it, I know, don’t you think I don’t know, I know and I always have known!” he shrieks. “You can go like the rest of them, you can leave me behind, everyone does, sure, listen to them, you can’t be my brother’s and Blue’s, too, right, is that what they said? Fine, run away, go ahead! I know! I know!”

Anti slumps back against the stairs, seething, his eyes brown and his teeth clenched. He digs his nails into his palm and hisses, trying to calm down. There are scorch marks where his hands touch the ground.

“Whatever,” he growls, biting his teeth at nothing. “Whatever… I don’t need anybody, I don’t - ”

Footsteps come back towards him.

Anti stops short, turning his head, and when he sees Trick, his whole face slackens.

Trick steps slowly towards him. Anti reaches out in bewilderment, a strange look in his eyes.

When he finally reaches your view, you can see Trick’s collar, tucked safely into his backpack, latched around his throat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” says Trick.

His voice is level. His eyes are clear. He sits down at Anti’s feet.

“I’m not ever going anywhere.”

Anti is shell-shocked, staring at him, winded. Weird thing about being physical is the new feelings it comes with - like something grabbing your heart and warming it between their hands. His cheeks are very red.

Trick leans forward.

Anti grabs him and hugs him tight to his chest, squeezing him down, down, down, holding him.

“Cameras off again?” asks Trick, muffled against his stomach.

“Cameras off again,” whispers Anti, and, grabbing you, he turns you off and throws you away.

----------------

aether-mae asked: Red, maybe you failed to protect them in the past, but if you continue to let them be returned to Anti after everything you’ve seen, then your still enabling their torture. You need to put your foot down and end this. Choose to do good, despite everything

Red breathes out a shaky sigh, staring down an alleyway at the lights of a tattered drug store.

“Choose to do good, huh?” he mumbles to himself, his hood drawn over his head.

The truth is he doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. Nothing feels clear cut. To lock Dapper in his room feels bad, but to let him come along and get hurt or run free and have an episode alone would be bad too. To go back to Anti has begun to feel frightening, but to continue living this way with Dapper so sick could be worse. Maslow’s Pyramid is boxing his morality in - with an empty stomach and a hallucinating brother, just about anything that eases his pain feels like the right thing to do. Killing people is wrong, but self-defense is good. Stealing is wrong, but taking care of Dapper is good. Who is he supposed to turn to? Where is he supposed to go? For a rare moment, he feels something in him cry out for the cold pews of that run-down church where they hid, but God’s never helped him before and he doesn’t expect salvation now that he’s done so many things nobody should ever do.

“Just let me try and get him some medicine,” murmurs Red, moving towards the drug store. “Maybe cause just a little trouble, so Anti at least has an idea… I can always choose to run later, but I just - I just can’t do this alone anymore.”

And he does feel alone. Dapper is just a responsibility. No help is coming.

“Look, I’m just going to put you in my backpack so you can hear,” he says. “And then, if everything goes really wrong… you’ll be able to tell Anti and the others. And they’ll know why I did it, and not to look for me. And then, you know. It won’t be so bad, I don’t think. Maybe kind of peaceful, even. I’ve heard it’s like sleep. No duties there, you know? No one to hurt me. Nothing to wrestle with. Feel like I sealed my fate a long time ago, so, hey. I can be a way for Anti to find and look after Dapper again and then everything… everything will be okay.”

He swallows hard and tries to believe himself.

“Just need you with me,” he says, a little gruffly. “In case things go wrong.”

He puts you in his backpack.

After that, a great many things go wrong.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Wait red dont die what went wrong

Skidding footsteps pound down the sidewalk; raw gasps are matched by the shrieking of sirens, and your screen is jostled rapidly with the running. There’s a a pause as Red tries to turn, and then the sound of a gunshot, and Red whimpers, taking off again, a hard gasp slicing through his voice.

“Anti’s right,” he chokes, heaving. “I’m not a good thief!”

There are voices yelling at him. You hear clanging as he tries to flee, leaping up the side of the building. Another shot goes off and he cries out, terrified, but he will not surrender. He can’t go to prison. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. This was stupid, this was so stupid. He can’t remember why he did it now. He just saw a chance at getting out of this situation and leapt for it. Maybe he was just hoping to get shot.

Anonymous asked: Not everyone thing simplified to two options, y’know. Why not make your own choices and discover a third option? Think outside the box a little, Red, anything is possible if you want it bad enough.

Red is trying to get you out of his backpack, grabbing you as he runs, having found some distance from the police behind him as he sprinted through back-alleys and abandoned buildings.

“Well, I am VERY OPEN to suggestions right now,” he shouts. “Like, just, incredibly open to suggestions!”

He turns an alley and sees a dark figure at the end of it hallowed in red and blue. Fear flashes over his face, and then, before he can turn -

Gunshot.

Red wails, clutching at his arm, and turns to race away again, but he’s getting rapidly boxed in. Dark figures on every side. Circling him like a lynx surrounded by wolves. He cannot breathe and blood is soaking his sleeve.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red! Please be careful.

“What do I do?” he gasps. “What do I do!”

He stares around you. Cops to the right, and coming down from the north too. He could go to his left or south. South is an abandoned building; left is more alleyways.

Anonymous asked: Did you steal what you needed? As for suggestions, lose whatever jacket you're wearing and double back if you can. If they didn't get a good look at you, you might be able to get past without seeming suspicious.

“My… my jacket?”

It’s the only thing he owns. He clutches furtively at the sleeves, feeling suddenly paralyzed. A blur of blue and red lights. A blur of shapes faraway getting closer. The cold as he takes off his jacket. The blood, hot, soaking into him, and the stinging bullet embedded in his arm. Oh, please. Oh, please. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“No, no!” he cries to himself, trying to focus on your message. “I have - I grabbed antipsychotics I think, but I - I don’t know what kind, I don’t know what to do - don’t act suspicious, don’t act - k-keep it together, Red! Keep it together, Roser!” Fuck, but he wants Blue!

Anonymous asked: Cops may know the area better than you do so you might get pinned in the alleyways. The building may be a bit tricky but if you can move quick and hide you might be able to get away unseen. Weigh your strengths

“Okay, okay,” wheezes Red, hurrying towards it. Shouting around him. He’s scared they saw him but he isn’t sure. He doesn’t speak Spanish. He’s not sure he could understand English right now. He sprints towards the abandoned building - some kind of greenhouse, if he had to guess, and shoves himself in through a rusted door. He needs to find someplace to hide!

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Go south maybe you can lose them in the building's

“I’ll try and stay hidden,” he pants. “If I do good enough, they might leave. Maybe they won’t check thoroughly. They don’t know I’m the one who’s - they don’t know I’m a killer, right? Right? They just think I’m a petty thief. Or did they recognize my jacket? They’re shooting at me…”

Anonymous asked: Every second you stay out of their line of sight is good; try the alleys, take as many turns as you can, wait until they're good and behind you before you try climbing anything. Unless you think you can do some rooftop parkour from the abandoned building, in which case, try for there first. Just move quickly, make as much time as you can where they don't have their eyes on you.

“Oh, fuck, I can’t get on the rooftops with my arm like this,” he whimpers, the realization hitting him. He clutches the machete Anti gave him in his good arm, panting. “That’s how I always get away when I’m in trouble!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Go down to the abandoned building! It might buy you some time. But if you think you still have the energy to run, book it down those alleyways!

“It does buy me time, it does,” pants Red, hunkering down between a closet and a table at the corner of the back of the long, open building. “Yeah, okay, okay, gotta take a second to collect myself before they find me. I’m okay. If they find me, I can fight. I’m good at fighting. I’ve fought with worse than a bullet in my shoulder before.”

He’s pale, but not pale enough to lose consciousness. Not yet.

The door he came in through creaks.

“Hello?” someone whispers.

Someone else shushes them and footsteps skitter in the darkness.

Anonymous asked: Hey Red that’s alright! That just means you gotta get a little more creative with your tactics. Just relax and think logically, act like you are in control of the situation. If you don’t you’ll trip up and get caught and we don’t want that.

“I’m in control,” he wheezes to himself, nearly silent in the darkness. You can just see the outline of his face. “I’m in control. I am a soldier. I am a fighter. I always come home to my family. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have left him alone. I shouldn’t have locked him in. Okay. Okay. Sh, Ro, sh.”

Anonymous asked: that's ok red, you can keep your jacket. maybe you can wear it inside out or around your waist?

The hood, for now, is hiding his face, but he thinks that’s a good idea. He nods. He’ll change it once these cops leave. Someone is sliding closer to him. He tries to breathe.

Anonymous asked: Red, I get why you see Dapper as a hindrance especially in this unmedicated state, but bear in mind he could be your greatest help if you'd let him. Trusting him is going to help him trust you. Two-way street, bud. You're not alone, so quit acting like you are because, like it or not, you're both in this together.

“He’s just… always seemed so helpless,” murmurs Red, clutching his own head. He should probably shut up, but he’s trying to ground himself. Quiet, quiet. Can’t breakdown now. At least this place is cool and quiet and the fire in his arm is beginning to go numb. “Sometimes it’s like he can’t even think for himself. I don’t hate him, I just don’t know how to see him as capable anymore. He’s always sick or acting like a baby… maybe that’s not what he wants, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Anonymous asked: Can you see who it is, Red? Be cautious, but I think they might be an innocent.

Red swallows and turns both himself and you slightly to the right, sinking down so you can all see beneath the legs of the table. The black boots and navy green uniform of the policia. A gun.

Red shudders, going still. There is another pair of footsteps, moving even more quickly towards them, and this person makes much less attempts at being quiet, panting in the hot shadows. Red squishes himself down small, small.

Anonymous asked: Blue would tell you to calm down and think through this right? Deep breaths and think about what is happening in the moment, nothing else. Your main priority is to get away, to disappear, don’t worry about anything else. What if you weaved down the alleyways to try and loose them? Just don’t get cornered.

Blue would tell him to calm down.

Right? Right?

Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. Get away. Disappear. Don’t be scared, Red. Don’t be scared, Rojo.

Right?

He wouldn’t be angry.

Calm down. Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. I’m not angry. I forgive you.

Maybe that’s what Blue would tell him.

Right? Right?

I love you, he’d say. Focus on that. I forgive you. Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. Stay here with me.

The flashlight of the cop shines on him.

“Está aquí!” and the gun cocks.

Another voice cutting through the darkness, and footsteps running towards him. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t shoot!”

Anonymous asked: You're alright, Red. You can do this. Just one step at a time, yeah? You can handle this. Deep breaths. Do you have any subtle stims that can ground you, like tapping your fingers or rubbing a seam on your clothes? Just focus on that for now, and you can act on something else if something else happens.

Red can’t move. Red can’t breathe. Red can’t move. Red can’t breathe. Get up, Red. He can’t move. Run, run. Gun in his face. Shouting. Machete in his hands; clutch the scabbing handle tight, focus on the pressure in your hands. Get up, Red, run, can’t move, can’t breathe, hold the machete; blood on your arms, jacket, light in his face, Blue, Blue, Blue, I’m sorry, I love you, can’t move.

Someone collides hard with the police officer, shoving him back a few steps, and there is shouting, loud.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Angry Spanish in reply. “He’s armed, he has a machete!”

“Put the gun down, don’t hurt him! Hey, hey, put the machete down for me, man, can you put the machete down?”

Can’t move. Anti’s machete. Protect Dapper. Silver water. Can’t breathe. The gunman whirls back towards him again and Red is going to die.

The other stranger pulls back his own gun and slams it down on the skull of the police officer.

The body crumples.

One breath, sucked desperately in. One breath. Knife handle. Jacket. Quiet. Warm. Focus. Calm down, Ro. Deep breaths.

The stranger stands over him, panting, stammering, staring at him. He drops his gun and it goes clattering to the floor beside the body. After a moment, he picks up the flashlight and shines it on Red.

Red covers his eyes, panting, holding the blade in his trembling hand.

Anonymous asked: Red DO NOT strike first! Only in self-defense, ONLY fight if you HAVE to!

Get up, Red, fight.

Ro, he just protected you.

Don’t strike first. Don’t fight unless you have to. Injured. Alone. Trapped. Afraid.

The stranger has not moved. Red staggers back against the wall and pushes himself up, slowly, until he is standing on trembling legs, and only then does he pull his protective arm away from his eyes and face the man with the light.

He saw him earlier.

When he was scavenging for something to eat.

He had thought he seemed familiar, somehow. Forgotten, but familiar.

He is not South American, but his skin is dark and his hair darker, soft and silky on his head. His eyes are so golden-brown Red thinks of tigers. A wide mouth made for smiling now turned into an astonished o, eyes wide with shock and light, strong, familiar features. Red knows him and Red does not know him. Red does not know him at all and yet knows every part of him. Red is afraid.

“It is you,” the stranger whispers. “I didn’t believe…”

Behind the flashlight, the stranger seems to glow with light, and then, as the realization hits him and sinks down into him, with joy, too.

“It is you,” he says again, a smile lighting up his sunlight face. “Jackie.”

Anonymous asked: Who is that??

Red is close to suffocating.

“Who?” he tries, but the words are mangled in his desperate mouth. “Wh - who - how - ?”

“It’s been so long,” gasps the stranger, taking a step forward.

Red flinches and he steps back again, worry on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and the smile comes back. Red thinks he sees tears in his deep eyes. “I had started to think - I had almost started to give up, Juice Box, I - oh, fuck. Then there was this weird power signal in Peru, and I followed it, and then I could swear it was you in that police arrest, and then, up north, a trail of crimes with you fitting the description, and I - I - Fuck. I’m so sorry, I’m just - !”

He laughs aloud, making Red startle hard, and the stranger again tries to readjust, worry in his face.

“Sorry, you’re spooked. It’s okay. We need to get you out of here.”

He reaches out a hand. Yes, definitely tears in his eyes. Joy on his mouth. That old name. Jackie. Jackie.

Red slinks back against the wall, staring at him.

Wary.

“Are you okay?” asks the man. “Are you hurt?”

He reaches farther forward. Red jerks back and the stranger frowns.

“Don’t touch me,” Red manages. “Don’t even think about touching me.”

bupine asked: hey there, stranger. can you hear us? what's your name?

“Does that thing get messages?” he asks, tilting his head at the flashing light of the camera. “Is that… is that him? Can I - ?”

Red clutches you jealously to his chest and slides slightly down the wall, shoving the desk between himself and the stranger. He is panting, hard, and as he moves the man catches sight of the gleaming blood on his arm.

“Did they get you? Let me look at it, Jackie, please - ”

“Don’t come near me!” shouts Red, shoving himself further down the hall, though the tentative movements of the stranger towards him make him nervous and paralyzed, not remembering how to run away. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Okay, I won’t, I won’t, I promise, see?”

Hands held out. Feet planted. Eyes like the earth, rich.

“It’s okay, I won’t touch you or come closer if you don’t want,” promises the stranger.

“Who are you?” shouts Red, and the heat of the humiliation of not knowing him, though he knows him, rises in his face like flame. “Stay away from me! Who are you?”

But there is no anger or frustration or even disappointment in the man’s eyes.

Just knowing - acceptance. And then, for a moment, a grief so wide the ocean couldn’t make space for it, and then the knowing again.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay. You must have been through so much, I know. It’s Max. Do you remember me at all?”

Red shakes his head numbly. He sees again the great dark hurting grief, and then Max is calm and smiling soothingly again, the knowing in his eyes, the sorrow resting on its underbelly.

“Oh, okay,” whispers Max, very soft. “Not at all? It’s me, Max. No? That’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He will have time to hate Anti for it later.

Anonymous asked: Red, don't be afraid. There's no need to be scared, I'm nearly certain. Be cautious, but this person just saved your life. I think you can more than trust them.

No. No, no.

Red doesn’t like this, this isn’t -

This isn’t how they’re supposed to be.

He doesn’t know how they’re supposed to be, but not like this.

And he’s ashamed, but he doesn’t know why.

He covers his face with his hands. He will not cry in front of strangers. And this man is a stranger no matter what he says or what he knows. He doesn’t want to be looked at or seen or real. He wants to wake up, or maybe die.

“Who are you?” croaks Red. “Who, who, say things that matter this time!”

“I - I’m a detective, or I was, with the Sussex Police. I’ve been trying to - Jackie, wait!”

The word ‘police’ and Red tears towards the exit of the greenhouse, yanking frantically against the locked door.

“No, I won’t hurt you!” swears Max. “I’m on your side, please! I’m here to help, I am, just please talk to me.”

“Fucking pig,” snarls Red, whirling on him again, panting hard. “Don’t touch me.”

“Is Anti here now?” asks Max, his eyes beginning to redden. “Is he making you do all this? Is he making you act like this?”

A strangled laugh from Red’s throat. No. The last week has been all him and his bullshit. Nobody made him do anything. And now Max is seeing him like this. Sprinting away from a crime scene. Running from cops. Probably he stinks and his clothes are fucking filthy. He is, very suddenly, so aware of every scar along every inch of his torn, abused flesh that he wants to scratch them all back to blood just to hide them.

“Jackie,” whispers Max.

And Red strikes like a snake.

Max shouts in alarm as he is tackled to the ground, and Red’s fist comes down once, twice, staining his teeth crimson, and Max struggles frantically against his grip, yelling. “Jackie, stop! Jackie! I won’t hurt you!”

“Don’t call me that!” Red screams, slamming his head back against the ground. Max moans. “I’m not Jackie! Jackie is gone!”

“No,” he hears Max cry, grabbing at his face, his right hand finding the back of his head and grabbing his hair tightly. “I know you! Even from the others, I would know you. I could know you by the way you breathe.”

“No, you don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me or the person I am now!”

“Jackie,” he begs, his hand still in his hair, protecting him. “Jackie.”

“Shut up!” screams Red, and strikes him again, and leaps away from his body, taking off at a dead sprint, throwing his whole weight at the door this time and busting the hinges entirely. You get a glimpse of Max staggering to his knees but then collapsing back to his side again, striking the floor in his anguish, his white teeth gritted.

Anonymous asked: Stay hidden, Red, but as soon as it’s clear you need to get the hell away from there and go the opposite direction.

He tears off his hoodie and wraps it around his waist instead, sprinting so numbly now that he isn’t even sure if anyone’s following him. That’s an order he can follow. Get the hell away. Get the hell, the fuck, the goddamn away from there and from him and from everything. He can’t feel his arm anymore. It doesn’t matter. He’ll run until he passes out if he can’t find his way back to the motel. He can’t think. He’s sprinting. It’s quiet at last. Dark streets and silence and the bundle of feelings cutting him open from the inside. Even Dok couldn’t cut that shit out of him. Nurse, I need a liter of not-being-so-fucking-useless, stat. He laughs wildly and stumbles as he runs, beginning to hyperventilate, beginning to slow, exhausted.

“Can’t call me that,” he pants to himself, staggering down a street he doesn’t know. “Can’t call me that…”

Anonymous asked: Red, what was that? Why did you do that?

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” he shrieks.

He tries to rationalize it away.

“He was a cop! He was going to arrest me! And Dapper, he could find him! He knew who Anti was, he could hurt us! He’s been stalking us! He’s the kind of person Anti’s warned me about again and again! I should have killed him! Anti would have wanted me to!”

He slams against a wall and covers his face with his hands - or tries to, but the injured one has lost all feeling. His head spins fiercely. He’s going to be sick and he isn’t sure if it’s from the blood loss or the encounter.

“I didn’t want to see him,” he cries. “I didn’t want him to see me.”

Anonymous asked: Ro, you need to calm down.

“Why can’t I do anything right?” he groans, tugging at his hair like he always does, pulling at the thick dark hair. “Sometimes I just want to be normal. I get so freaked out. Fuck, when was the last time I just… met someone? Met anyone? Spoken to anyone other than my brothers and you?”

He holds his own aching shoulders, shrinking down against the wall. “I want Blue, why does Blue always feel so much safer than anything… I need him, I can’t do this, I can’t, I can’t!”

He strikes the wall with his fist so hard it will bruise.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, Max is NOT out to get you.

“Everyone’s out to get me,” he chokes, rocking himself and rubbing his palms together. “The whole world is out to get me. The whole world is out to get me and my family. I can’t trust anyone but my brothers. That’s the way it’s always been. Even before i remember. Cops waiting for me at food pantries. Guns surrounding my house in the middle of the night. Strangers stalking me home from the marketplace on Christmas Eve.”

Anonymous asked: You make mistake just like anyone else, but it’s what you do after that that defines you. You either do what you can to make it right or you sit and have a pitty party. It’s okay to mess up, Red, but Blue is not coming so you have to figure this out on your own.

Red shivers hard. “I… I wish I could remember a time without Blue. I’ve never done anything without him. Anti told us to stay together and I walked away.”

He rubs his wrists into his eyes, trying to breathe.

“Okay. Okay. I can figure this out. Need - I need to get back to Dapper. I need to bandage myself up. Can’t be bleeding everywhere. I can’t think about him, I won’t…”

Shaking so hard it is difficult to rise, he nevertheless gets back to his feet.

Anonymous asked: Red, bud... You're having a trauma reaction right now. You've been attacked and stalked so often with mal-intent that it's causing a trauma reaction. Can you breathe for me, love? Breath in 4, hold 7, out 8. It's okay, it'll be okay. Max wasn't going to hurt you, buddy. Everything will be fine, but right now work on calming and guiding yourself our of this flashback.

“Keep having nightmares,” whispers Red, and then he tries to breathe for you.

One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four, five, six, choke - pause, cough, try again - one, two, three, four… one, two three, four, five, six, seven… one, two, three, four, sigh deep, too deep, so tired.

Everything in his life is always difficult and frightening and he’s tired. Afraid. He doesn’t remember if it was always like this. He doesn’t think so. He thinks he used to be brave and safe and maybe even happy.

One, two, three, four…

Anonymous asked: Wow what a shocking coincidence that your life was only exhausting and frightening and traumatizing since you've belonged to Anti, hm, Red. I wonder who could possibly at fault.

“Please,” mumbles Red, clutching at his face. “Tell me I didn’t help bring them all back to an Anti who wanted any of this. Tell me I haven’t belonged to an Anti like that. I couldn’t bear it.”

Anonymous asked: Red, fucking /stop/. You need to calm down, please. Go back, see what he wants. He won't hurt you, he said it himself. Explain who you are if he doesn't understand. Stop running from your past. Stop running from people who want to help. You will /die/ if you keep running from everything that tries to help you. Dapper will die without help.

“I… I think I’m lost,” he mumbles, shivering despite the heat, staring around himself. “I don’t even know where I came from.”

He holds his arm as it begins to hurt again, feeling coming back as the adrenaline fades. “Ngh… maybe I should have at least let him bandage it up. No… Dapper will help me. Even if I left him behind. I think I need to apologize.”

He runs his hands through his hair. Dapper will die without help. He groans and moves forward, looking around for anything he recognizes.

Anonymous asked: Sadly.... You have Red. You've belonged to an Anti who told us he hates you and loves seeing you in pain. You belong to an Anti who killed you in front of Dapper and forced him to rewind every time he disobeyed. You belong to an Anti who threw Blue out of a hospital bed, gagged him with his own stolen magic, and broke his nose.

He is set to shuddering again, crumpling against the wall, panting and dizzy. He can see Blue sick, now, choking and bleeding. He can see Blue hurt and himself not there. He can see Blue dying. He can see himself dead, and Dapper looking on, afraid, Red’s blood made as a tool to control him.

“I don’t believe you!” shrieks Red, clutching his hair. “No! Stop it! I’ll turn you off! I want to go home to Dapper! I need to see him! I need to - we used to protect each other, I need - I need to see Dapper! Where am I?”

Anonymous asked: He wasn't stalking you, he was rescuing you Red. He was helping, he came to save you. You can't 'rationalize' this one away, buddy... He was a friend. A friend that you don't remember. He came to save you. His eyes were grieving you, missing you.

“A friend,” chokes Red.

And suddenly, he needs it to be true so badly he can barely breathe.

He needs a friend.

He really, really, really, fucking needs a friend.

“This is so stupid,” he sobs. “I’m supposed to be able to do this alone. It doesn’t matter now. I can’t start to know anyone else. I’ll just lose them when I have to go back to Anti. And I beat him, anyway, so he won’t want me now. I don’t know how to trust anybody anymore so it’s better if we just go.”

But he wants it, he wants it, he wants it so much he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his mouth is warm with the tears and his chest is hiccuping and he has to calm down, he has to.

Anonymous asked: Whether you believe it or not doesn't make it any less true. What are you going to make the "he just has a bad temper" excuse too? Red, do you know the definition of "gaslighting"? Do you realize how shattered your reality is because of what Anti has done to you?

“No, no, no!” He thrashes his head back and forth, rocking again, but it hardly helps. He needs someone to hold him. He wants someone to touch him. He wants to feel safe. “I’m the shattered one, it’s not anybody else’s fault. Why would he do this to me if he knew? Why would he hate me? I’ve never done anything but protect him, my little brother, my angry, hurting little brother, I’ve never done anything but love him.”

He wants Anti to come hold onto him and tug at his hair. It is only belatedly that he realizes he has no memory of Anti ever holding him like that at all.

“Stop talking!” he screams, his voice splitting down the middle, grabbing at his face as the lights around him become overwhelming again. “Shut up!”

Anonymous asked: You know it's the truth though, don't you Red. You know your master better than anyone. Do you really think I'm lying? Do you underestimate his cruelty, even now, after all the shit he's done to you? After he almost killed Blue? Blue would have died if it weren't for one of the magicians healing his heart. Anti would have killed him. He's still killing him, every single day.

Red crumples.

You can hear him breathing. Harsh and thin and wheezing like an asthma attack. A low string of mumbling pours from his trembling mouth. His nails bite into his palms. He puts his forehead down on the filthy dirt of the alleyway and clutches at his head like there’s bombs coming down and he’s beneath his desk. He can see Blue’s corpse on the shore of the river. He sees purpled lips and swollen eyes. The body goes unbelievably stiff as it dies, and so soon too. Red knows. Red has held corpses. Blue would be so heavy, with bones like metal, unyielding as a concrete building. His eyes would never see the stars again and the life would be gone from him. Red can smell the decay. The rotting blood. Red can see Blue dead, but Anti wasn’t the one who killed him. Red walks away and hears Blue crying out for him beside him.

Ro? Ro? I don’t want to die. Red - Jackie - I’m afraid, please -

Be good, Blue. Be good. I’ll see you again soon.

Red slams the side of his head against the concrete. He is holding his shoulders as he always does, but he lets his fingers dig into the bullet-hole at the top of his shoulder. His palms fill up with blood.

Anonymous asked: "Gaslighting: form of psychological manipulation in which a person or a group covertly sows seeds of doubt in a targeted individual, making them question their own memory, perception, or judgment, often evoking in them cognitive dissonance. Blatant lying. First, people who gaslight tell obvious lies. Deny, Deny, Deny. Using what you love against you. Additionally, people who gaslight use what is closest to you against you. The slow death of self."

The slow death of self. Red shudders and is sick against the concrete, and now he cannot breathe at all through the smell of his own vomit. He falters and tumbles against the brick of the building beside him, his eyes rolling, rocking himself back and forth, his head striking concrete every time, desperate breaths wheezing out of his throat.

Anonymous asked: "Gaslighting. Everybody else is the enemy, outsiders are not to be trusted. Lovebombing, holding love and affection over your head and using it against you. The constant confusion that the abuser has instilled leads the victim to become desperate for clarity. More often than not, the victim searches for this clarity in the abuser. If the gaslighter is a liar and a cheater, they are now accusing you of being a liar and a cheater."

He is not reading anymore, shaken and blind against the concrete, lost in his head, overwhelmed, sick. He hasn’t made it home and no one is here to comfort him. Dapper does not have a camera and Max is still searching. He is very dizzy now, milk white with it, his rocking slowing on the concrete as he faints for a moment, a low moan sliding out of his teeth.

Anonymous asked: Alright, why don’t we hold off on the truth bombing tonight? Ro hasn’t exactly had an easy trip this evening so let’s just chill a bit?

Numb.

He’s a dead thing, he thinks.

He lies there for a long time.

Anonymous asked: Guys I don’t think this is the correct approach to this, especially since he’s just had a anxiety attack from a trauma trigger. Red, it’s okay. You’ve been thought a lot today and you’re in pain and loosing blood still, your priority right now should be to get somewhere safe and patch yourself up or get some help (Max I mean max). We can wait to talk about the more touchy feely topics until you’re safe.

Brain slush. Tired. Dry mouth. It hurts to blink.

Safe and patch up. Safe and patch up.

He doesn’t move. His tongue presses against his torn lips. He sighs. Sleepy.

Anonymous asked: There is much more to this world then guns and knifes and scary people. There are people that genuinely want you boys to get better, kinda like us. It’s scary to take a change but you aren’t going to get anywhere if you don’t. Remember what we said about that third option? Thinking outside the box beyond BNE and Anti as a solution? He could be it.

He stares at you, his eyes dull and glazed over with fatigue. Right now, he’d take a third option. He’s too tired not to. He just wants someone to hold him. The strange memory of Dapper that he has tucked away rises in his head again - soft white hands washing the blood away. Cleaning him and helping him to bed. His soft warm hair against his own. Good pressure. Warm Jameson.

And warm brown eyes, deep. Tiger. Sleepy.

Anonymous asked: Shit okay okay, guys fucking stop pressuring a guy on the brink of an entire meltdown jfc what is wrong with you people? Alright, Red can you hear me? You shouldn't sleep right now. But first deep breaths. In and out. In and out until you feel better. You have to find Dapper and then maybe go approach the guy Max earlier. It seems they're pretty worried about you in a personal level so they'll help you and Dapper some if you just asked. -🌻

Oh, help. And food and bandages - medicine? Tired. He rubs at his face and then shudders, drawing away to find blood on his hands. A quiver shakes his chest and he snuffles out a sigh, dazed.

Deep breaths. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Dapper.

Max.

He looks up at the sky and the buildings, trying to put the floating pieces of his own brain back together.

Anonymous asked: Red, can you hear us?

He looks at you, licking dryly at his mouth, his eyes fluttering. Eventually, he shuffles into a less awkward position, rising onto his calves and palms. You can see his whole body tremble.

He’s strong and he has been for a long time.

He reaches out to pull you into his hand. He’ll try to get up in a minute, he thinks. Oh, a coherent thought, is his second coherent thought. He laughs to himself, his head swimming. He’s a fish, pushing up silt, floating along the bottom of a black ocean.

Anonymous asked: Damn it, is there a way we can get Max's attention? There's no way Jackie got far, do we have a blinky light or something??

If Max can find him, the cops can find him.

Then again, figures Red dully, he said he had been looking for Jackie for a long time. Maybe he’ll keep looking. Even if the person he’s looking for is dead and has been for a long time. Red pulls at his hair, whimpering.

Anonymous asked: I have a feeling he’d forgive you if you asked him for help, love. He seemed to really, really care about you. He respected you too.

Yeah, he was nice, thinks Red, he was, he didn’t touch me when I told him to, he was okay.

Can’t start thinking like that, just lose him to Anti, just hurts more… No one would want him like this anyway. No, no pity party, no more fucking around, he had promised Dapper. He wants Dapper. He’s moving again, slow, his hand on the wall beside him, his head hanging low.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red? You're going to be okay, honey. You are SO strong. You will be okay. Right now, we need to get you help.

I think I freaked out, Red registers dully. I think I just flipped the fuck out.

He’s moving, oh. He didn’t notice. One foot at a time. There’s a blur of light in front of his eyes. A casino. He thinks maybe he recognizes it. The lights are pink. They caught his attention. But when? Which direction? He stares around him. He feels like he’s a sardine and the can around him was just peeled open and now the whole world is staring at his little wriggly body, his eyes fixed morbidly open. He tries to blink and it hurts his head.

Anonymous asked: Bring Max to Dapper, Red! He might be able to help both of you

“Where is he?” mumbles Red. “I knew him…”

Anonymous asked: Do you know which direction you came from? You could try to backtrack a bit to see if you could run into him.

He stares around him. Nothing seems familiar but the casino. Wait - a Subway, buried in the wall, dirty and silent at this time of night. There’s a dumpster out back. Tuna sandwich.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is this where you found the food for you and Dap, honey???

“I guess,” he mumbles. “Love eating like a rat.”

He didn’t want to steal anything. Scared of getting in trouble with the cops. He laughs low in his chest. Nice work, Red.

Anonymous asked: Red, buddy, I know you're hungry, but please do not eat out of the garbage

“Not right now,” he sighs, turning in circles, trying to find out where he is.

Anonymous asked: Oh, thank god, a land mark. Red, do you remember the way back from here? Be safe, might be best to stay out of sight since you're... bloody and covered in bruising.

Good advice. He feels so gross. Suddenly, he has a desperate desire to see what was inside that room back at the house in the middle of the trees, Jackie’s room with the pictures and notes and newspaper clippings on the door, all arranged like there was something funny about it. He imagines a big, sunny room. The smell of linen and Febreeze, maybe a little sweat, too, but not too much. Clean clothes arrayed colorfully in a cool dark closet. Everything tucked neatly away. A freshly made bed. Green sheets.

He laughs to himself, confused by the thought. He doesn’t know why the sheets would be green. Pictures of his family on the bedside drawer. Laughter through the walls.

Anonymous asked: Sorry about pressuring so much at once. Sent all my messages right after each other, and I couldn't read how upset you were, Red. I feel cruel after seeing how much it upset you.

“Oh, too fast,” he laughs. “I get it. I’m supposed to be able to take it, right?”

He shivers slightly and adjusts his jacket.

“Everybody always expects me to. Anti doesn’t like to say I’m autistic, did you know that? He says I just freak out sometimes.”

Red swallows and glances around.

Anonymous asked: Shit. Can you turn back, Jackie? Retrace your steps?

He wanders down the street, turning his head side to side, the sense of familiarity growing a little. Is this close to where he carried Dap, with his body so heavy in Red’s arms, stiff and tired?

He looked after Dap. Dap let him. Dap rested.

Why does he never let Dap look after him?

Anonymous asked: What would help you right now, bud? Do you need to stop and stim for a second? A poem you like? Stay calm, it's gonna be alright

“No stimming,” he laughs wearily, swaying as he walks. “Way too much - way too much everything already. Too loud.”

A poem. His eyes water for a second. He pauses to rest and bows his head. He can hear Blue, but doesn’t remember the words, not well.

“Did you want to see me shaken? Bowed head and lowered eyes…”

Joy on his brother’s face.

“Ro? Ro? I don’t want to die.”

Be good, Blue.

This is the back of the motel.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: That doesn't mean that anything is wrong with you, Ro. It just means that there's another part of you to love! We are all different. Just have to embrace who you are :)

“You guys are all crazy sweet,” he manages, wiping at his face, touched despite himself. “But you’ll have to wait til I’m a little less tired for me to appreciate you like you deserve. Maybe… maybe talk about it, I don’t know, I’m not really supposed to, but… maybe I should, sometime.”

Anonymous asked: Hey love it’s okay! Does anything seem more familiar now that you’ve identified that?

“Room number,” he mumbles, trying to remember. He knew it. He had it. He’s good with numbers. “I think… first floor, I…”

It’s gone.

“No, no,” he croaks. “How do I find it?”

Anonymous asked: Be safe please Red. You really need to be bandaged up. You had a backpack with you. Do you still have it? Is there anything in there you can use? Or, at least could you make a tourniquet out of your hoodie, for the bullet wound?

“Shit, that was a good idea, wrapping up,” he mumbles, slurring a little from fatigue. “Should have listened to you when I was farther away. Got my backpack. Not much in there. But the medicine I stole. Not even sure it’s what Dapper needs. And the machete. Oh, the key to the handcuffs…”

He reaches slowly around to get it out of the side pocket.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, you can listen to us or not. That is your choice, in the end. But get back to Dapper or go back to Max. You need to keep going, okay?

“Keep going, keep going,” he mumbles to himself, beginning to walk past the rooms. “I need help… I need someone…”

Anonymous asked: Bud, think about it, he didn’t attack you, when you asked him not to touch you he didn’t, in fact he backed up and showed you his hands so you could see them! He gave you honest information so that you knew who he was, not any type of lie. He said he wasn’t going to hurt you, and I’m sure he was scared or nervous after seeing you for the first time in ages, but he wasn’t going to hurt you. I don’t think he would have even thought about it. I know you don’t want to see him but he could help you.

“Do you really think he knew me from so long ago?” whispers Red, trailing dazedly around. “He told me he didn’t want to hurt me. He would be really nice if it were all true. I don’t know. I think sometimes the world puts shit in front of you just to make fun of you. Cause you can’t have it.”

Anonymous asked: You’re right, Red. You can’t keep doing it alone. Max could help both you and Dapper. Would you want to give it a chance?

“Probably drove him away now.” Red must pause to lean against the wall, and you hear him giggle, apparently for no reason. “Safer just to… stay away from people. You know? Do you? Sometimes I feel like you don’t get it at all, but then you say nicer things and I… I’m autistic, you know, that’s okay, like - I like to hear that, I do.”

He’s drifting a little, his eyes getting heavier, slurring worse. He laughs again. You think that’s a laugh.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, when you're not even showing trust in yourself that's a sign that you may need to rely on someone else a little. And sometimes trust requires a bit of faith first, and that can be daunting, but some help is better than none when you're spiraling like this. Max can help you, so can Dapper, and so can you you but you need to accept it first.

He’s beginning to shake again. Maybe shock. He’s very white.

“Should have let him at least… explain.” Red stumbles drowsily. “Would have liked to know where I knew him from. So pretty.”

He blushes red and giggles, nearly tripping again.

“So much blood on my jacket… fucking dirty… bet he thinks I’m g-gross. Compared with him? Pshh. Forget it. Dap? You hear me? I’m real tired, Dap.”

Anonymous asked: You'll have that, Red, all that and more, we promise. Just stay calm and retrace your steps.

“Okay, moving, moving,” he whispers to himself, trailing down the wall, and then - at last - he sees the little cuff wrapped around the doorway, and he remembers. Room 119. He chokes on the relief of it, but, fuck, does he really have to go in there as this much of a failure? Shit, but he wants someone to clean him up right now. So fucking gross. He hates blood. He never understood that about Anti, the way he would laugh while they were both coated in it. He just never seems to care about anything, and Red -

No, no, focus for two more seconds, Ro. It’s okay. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and grabs the doorhandle, fumbling with the key.

Anonymous asked: That's right calming breaths 1..2..3.. keep doing them until you feel like you have the ground below your feet again. For now don't think about the heavy stuff, don't think about the far future. Just think about what you and Dap need for NOW and that's a safe place to recover your strength. Once you're better you should go back to where Dap is, you'll probably run into Max but you'll be better prepared now. Just tell him you can talk later but you and your brother needs help now.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Ground beneath his feet. Run into Max.

For a second, he lets himself imagine it: the familiar stranger on the other side of the door, already looking after Dapper, so Red would know he was safe. He would see Red and hold his hands out all safe and slow again, and Red could let himself faint, and then - well, he’d just be forced to trust him. To use a little of that faith you were talking about. And maybe, then, oh, he can see it - he’d wake up bandaged and maybe even clean. Maybe even Max would get him something to eat. And wash his clothes for him. And say nice things. He’s so tired. He doesn’t know why he’s laughing. Was he supposed to be doing something?

There’s a faint, sleepy tongue-clicking from the other side of the door. Oh, right, the door. He pushes the key in, struggling to twist it, sighing as he hears shuffling in the bed and footsteps padding towards him.

Anonymous asked: Alright, alright, um... Do you see Dap anywhere nearby? As long as you get to Dap I'm sure we can explain things and you could get a lil rest from earlier. -🦀

“Dap?” he croaks through the door.

A whistle. A click. He glances up and sees a bright blue eye - oh, no, a little silver in it - staring back at him through the crack in the door, very wide.

“Oh, no,” he worries, finally unlocking the door and tumbling inside. “You - you okay, Dapper?”

Dapper stares at him, mouth slightly open.

“Blood,” he signs after a moment, pointing.

Red shivers.

“Oh, yeah,” he croaks, collapsing. “Almost forgot about that.”

Dapper’s arms catch him firmly.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, buddy can you hear me? Can you try to perform some basic first aid on Red for now? Can't have him bleeding out and all that. Just wrap some makeshift bandage, cloth, an actual roll of bandage, handkerchief or whatever around the wound and put some pressure on it. -🦀

Dapper, to his everlasting credit, is not frozen for one second.

He doesn’t remember much right now. It was a slow, tired night, fighting with monsters who weren’t real, trying to find his old name again, missing any comforting memory, and missing worse any company. He had a two hour conversation with his bear before he realized it was his bear, which was embarrassing even alone. He tried, for a few minutes, to break the beam of the door that held the handcuffs, feeling angry and malicious towards… someone.

But it doesn’t matter now. And it doesn’t matter if he remembers exactly who they were before or who they used to be to the other, because he remembers, if nothing else, how to take care of his family.

Alone for months and Anti never stripped that away, not deep enough, not truly.

He carries Red into the bathroom and sits him down on the seat of the toilet, tapping his chin to keep him from dozing off and whistling a song Red likes. Dermot Kennedy, he thinks. For Red, he knows that name better than his own right now. He is pulling Red’s hoodie off his head as his brother rambles.

“I need to tell you - I saw this guy, and he was like… oh, but Dapper, I shouldn’t have, like - like I need to apologize, I do, I’m sorry, I was dumb, I was really dumb and you told me so, but I didn’t want - I didn’t want - helpless, all the time, so tired of not being able to save you, and I - ”

Dapper cups his chin and pulls his head up so he can look at him. He tangles his hand in Red’s hair for a moment, pulling gently, before he draws away and signs.

“Don’t worry about anything right now,” he says softly. “Just let me look after you. We’ll talk later. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Red is crying. Dapper puts his hand gently on the back of his head and pulls him to rest on his shoulder. Keeps whistling, warm and slow, as he sees the bullet wound in his shoulder. No matter. He’ll get it out.

Just rest. He is stroking it into Red’s shoulder. Let me bear it.

Anonymous asked: Err, James? Why are your eyes silver?

“Sorry,” Dapper signs to you quickly. “A little worked up earlier. Thought I might have to change something. Maybe I still should? Convince him not to go? Then again, I don’t… remember where he was going. Confused night.”

He strokes his mustache for a second, eyes a little distant.

“No, no, I won’t be able to go back like this, not well, psychotic and not remembering. Can’t even find an anchor point. If I can’t remember what to go back to, I can’t go back to it. Is it fading, now?”

He peers at you, blinking. His eyes are not as silver as they were when Red left.

Anonymous asked: yes, it's fading - don't go back, JJ. Something important happened tonight

“Oh?” Dap tilts his head at you sweetly, still deep enough in his head that he’ll beg with his eyes for what he wants. “Important?”

He pauses and his eyes clear for a moment.

“If it’s just that he’s got my medicine, don’t worry, I’d rather he not be shot.”

Anonymous asked: Okay, good. Thanks for taking care of Red, Dap. He's pretty exhausted after all the emotional turmoil today so he really really needs you right now. Just give him some time to basically recharge. Anyway, Red met someone who knew the him from his old name. They've apparently been searching for Red for a while now and seemed really concerned about him. I was thinking maybe once Red's better you could convince him to go seek some aid from the guy if possible. -🦀

“Met someone?” Dapper tilts his head back and forth, thinking. “Maybe I will find him in my head sometime. Maybe not. Oh, go get help? I’m not allowed to leave my room… maybe Red or Anti would go for me?”

He is swiping blood rapidly from Red’s arm, barely pausing to talk to you moment to moment.

“I’m glad Anti is letting me be with my big brother again,” he confesses after a moment. “Even if only because he’s hurt. I used to always clean him up after he would go do his chores. And he would hold me.”

Dapper presses himself close to Red, getting a clear look at the bullet in his arm.

Anonymous asked: Hello Jamie, it’s been a very long night and em Ro here got shot and the bullet is still in his arm and he really needs a bath? Also we met a very nice man named Max and then Jackie had a meltdown in the street and that wasn’t great. Speaking of which if he’s comfortable with it could you give him a big hug for us? I would really like to give him a hug.

Dapper turns you away for a second and you hear a shout, seeing Red’s back spasm for a second, his muscles tighten, and then he groans and slumps down again. Dapper drops a bloodied bullet and his own bloodied knife into the sink and turns you back again.

Bandages, shit. He stares around the room. Towels will have to do. Anti won’t mind if he tears a couple up, right? He’s already started to get used to his new room. They move a lot. He scratched a picture of a duck into the wall when he was waiting for someone to come home to him. Maybe Anti will get him charcoals soon and he can really get into it. He grabs his knife, twirling it neatly in his hands before tearing the nearest towel into strips and beginning to tie his brother’s arm up.

He pauses just to hold onto the back of Red’s head for a moment. Dapper’s shirt is getting wet where his head lies.

Red cries softly against his neck. Dapper strokes his hair. Never his skin. Dapper knows. The important things stick around somewhere, at least some of them. At least enough of them. They are still brothers.

He wraps his arms gently around Red’s waist and squeezes gently, rocking them back and forth a little, on his knees with Red splayed across him, clutching wearily at his stained white dress shirt.

“Bath,” signs Dapper softly, getting to his feet.

Anonymous asked: No! No, I think that you don't have to go back. Red is... He'll most likely recover from this just give him some time and affection. It's prolly good that you guys have a possible person to go to now the person looked pretty concerned when he found Red. Seems that the guy, Max, knew him from Before. Also the silver is sort of fading now. -🦀

“Max,” says Dapper, signing out the letters, slow, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know… I’m not supposed to talk to anyone but my big brothers, so Red would know better than I.”

“He was a tiger,” whispers Red, clinging to Dapper’s shirt. Dapper pats the hem of his pants gently, Red nods, and a moment later you are turned towards the wall as Dapper helps him undress.

“A tiger,” you hear Red again, soft and a little weepy, and Dapper whistles his song clearly into the walls of the bathroom as the water comes on. Soft water laps around the edges of the tub. Red is breathing like he’s asleep already. The mirror fogs from the warmth of it. Dapper keeps whistling. Low and slow. Washing Red clean.

Anonymous asked: Jameson would if you let him, Red.

And this, as it turns out, is the most wonderful truth.

“I didn’t think it was you,” mumbles Red.

He feels a pointer finger tap along his chin. “Who?”

“A memory,” he answers, eyes closed, slumped down in the bath. Warm water slides down his neck. A washcloth sops him clean. Never just fingers - he hates, hates, hates flesh on his flesh - but the soft scratch of the washcloth on his skin. “Or a dream, maybe.”

Dapper is singing for him, a song he can’t remember anymore.

“This person who looked like you… cleaning the blood off of me.”

Dapper covers his eyes and massages shampoo into his hair with his free hand. Red isn’t sure if he’s asleep or not by the time the water begins to drain away and soft hands pull him out of the tub and begin toweling the water off of him. His hair is soft and fluffy and he can smell just soap now. His arm stings badly, but he’s had worse. What matters is that he’s being helped into clean boxers and then -

When was the last time he slept in a bed?

He can’t help but moan and he hears a faint, warm titter, opening his eyes to see Dapper standing over him, wet with blood and water, but smiling for him, small and concerned.

“But it was you,” he murmurs. “It was you who cleaned me up and put me to bed. I’d just… forgotten.”

“I always clean you up,” whisper Dapper’s hands, pausing to brush hair from Red’s eyes. “That’s what twins are for, right?”

Red stares at him.

“What?”

Warm blankets rise over him and sink down.

“You’re tired.” Dapper pulls the sheets to his chin and Red feels his eyelids drifting despite the questions sitting on his tongue. “Get some sleep. Don’t know when Anti will need you again. Have to rest.”

“Dapper?” Red tries, but he is already drifting away.

He feels, for a moment, the words “I love you” pressed against his heart. He’s so warm. He’s so tired. He thinks he manages to get the correct response out, but he isn’t sure. A warm weight sinks into the bed beside him. He curls closer to it in his sleep.

Tonight, this is the only truth that matters.

Dapper lies in bed beside him, and he watches over his brother.

Just like he does every night, right?

End Section Six of Chapter Three: Old Friends

#chapter three #writers of jack

[breachtopology]

prompt: we’re secret friends with benefits and you accidentally wore my shirt to to the party so you’re pretending you came as me and it turns out your impression of me is on point and you know me better than you know myself are you sure you’re not in love with me?? \\ requested by @hermannsthumb

sorry this is so late (but it’s still halloween on the west coast? did I make it??) some shatterdome-era, halloween-themed com dram.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Newt cracks an eye open, waking from a nap he hadn’t realized he was taking. He lifts his head and looks where it had previously been resting—on Hermann’s bare chest. Newt’s eyes drag upward to Hermann’s face—eyes still closed, gently resting.  

Reaching over to his nightstand without looking, Newt first mistakenly grabs his glasses, then his remote for the A/C setup he cobbled together from scrap jaeger metal (not officially approved, but no one has to know), Newt finally picks up his phone and checks the time. He bolts upright immediately. “Uh.” He glances down at Hermann. “Not to kick you out, but I’m gonna need to kick you out.”

Hermann props himself up on his elbows. “Oh?” He says coolly. “Plans this evening?”

“The Halloween party, dude!” Newt exclaims, leaping up out of bed, tossing the covers back so forcefully that they’re flung off Hermann as well. “It’s only like, my favorite holiday out of the whole year.”

With a yawn, Hermann reclines back onto Newt’s mattress and pulls the comforter back over himself. “In July you said Christmas was your favorite holiday,” he says up at the ceiling.

“It was in the heat of the moment,” Newt says, fishing through various piles of clothes—piles he insists are clean but just haven’t been put away yet. “We really do need some kind of mid-year holiday to break things up, you know? Why save all the good stuff for the last three months? Anyway.” Newt retrieves a white tank from one such pile and pulls it on. “I’d invite you to come,” he says as casually as possible. “But there’s a strict costume policy.”

“How gracious of you,” Hermann says, again in that cool tone. “I’m not interested in costumes.”

“Or socializing, or games, or fun. Yeah, I get it.” Newt hops into a pair of tan pants, belting them at record speed. “Now hurry up, will you?”

Hermann groans as he sits upright. His hair is mussed and sticking up at odd ends. Newt swallows down an impulse to run his hands through it one more time, to straighten it, to tuck it in place just the way Hermann likes it.

Instead, he tosses a discarded white shirt from the floor of his quarters, pelting Hermann squarely in the chest. “Here.” He follows up with a deep maroon sweater. “We’re burning daylight.”

---

They step out into the concrete hallway of the Shatterdome and start to walk toward the Mess Hall, the same direction as Hermann’s own quarters.

“You could have given me a bit more time,” Hermann grumbles, fussing with his hair, still sticking up a bit at odd ends. “I look...disheveled.”

“Hey, it’s working for you.” Newt steps in front of Hermann quickly, but continues to walk backward as he holds his arms out wide for display. “How do I look?”

Hermann looks him up and down. After a short pause, he says, “I can’t evaluate your costume until I know who or what you’re supposed to be.”

“John McClane!” Newt falls back to Hermann’s side. “You’ve seen /Die Hard/, right? Tell me you’ve seen Die Hard.”

“I’ve seen Die Hard,” Hermann says, deadpan.

“You’re lying. It’s okay. You’re forgiven. It’s unforgivable. But I forgive you.”

“Gracious of you,” Hermann murmurs with a small smile. He tugs at his sweater collar. “It’s bloody warm.”

“There’s an easy solution for that, Erdos,” Newt quips. “It’s what you get for wearing sub-zero-ready knitwear in a tropical climate.”

Hermann scowls and stops, handing Newt his cane as he proceeds to pull his sweater over his head. He looks down and lets out a groan. “Newton, this is—“

“Dr. Geiszler, Dr. Gottlieb!”

Mako approaches from the other end of the hallway, clad in a long black trench coat—clearly borrowed from someone who was at least a foot taller and broader than her—and thin sunglasses.

“Mako!” Newt waves. “Are you Neo? Dude, did you watch The Matrix? Amazing, right? That is so badass.”

She lifts her sunglasses and smiles broadly. “Keanu Reeves, he’s the best.” She lifts her sunglasses and considers Newt’s attire.

“Dr. Geiszler...Are you...someone whose clothes have been stolen?”

Newt twitches. “I’m John McClane. Die Hard? Don’t worry about it, it’s from before your time.”

Mako shrugs and smiles politely as she turns her attention to Hermann. “Dr. Gottlieb, you are a...Velvet Underground fan?”

“No, Newton is—“

Newt snaps his attention to his left and sees what Hermann had noticed—under his maroon sweater was Newt’s own Velvet Underground t-shirt, the iconic Andy Warhol banana print. Something that Hermann would never wear, on principle.

Hermann is wide-eyed in surprise. “Er, what I meant to say is...” He clears his throat. “That’s, er my costume,” he says simply. “Newton.”

“WHAT?” Newt exclaims reflexively, unable to stop himself. The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitch upwards. His expression is some bizarre distribution of mortified and smug. “I—...Yes.”

“That is cute.” Mako looks back at Newt, mildly disappointed. “I’m surprised you did not come as each other.” Before Newt can protest and explain, she lowers her sunglasses back down, strikes a pose of such genuine intensity that Newt feels momentarily frozen, before breaking out into a smile and gently leading the two of them, each with one hand, into the mess hall.

Tendo, leaning casually on the snack table, greets the two of them as they grab a couple of drinks—beer that had been snuck into the Shatterdome by some brave anonymous individual, he explains. “So,” he says to Newt. “What are you, a discount construction worker?”

Newt flips him off. Tendo laughs and turns to Hermann. “What’s your ‘stume, doc?”

Newt watches Hermann take another drink before responding, “I’m, er. Newt.” He laughs nervously. “It’s a shallow approximation—“

“Don’t sweat it, doc, no one’s got time to do anything detailed.” Tendo waves his plastic fangs. “You know. More important stuff going on. But—“ he pauses to put the fangs in. “You’ll also be amazed at how far an impression goes to sell it. I’m sure you’ve got some stories.”

"Well, yes, just the other day...” He glances quickly at Newt. Newt looks back at him and crosses his arms.

Hermann straightens up and starts speaking, more quickly and pitched than usual. “‘OSHA procedures are more guidelines than rules,’” he says, quoting—Newt realizes—something Newt had said the day before. A few near bystanders turn their heads to casually tune in. “‘So by extension, I’m the Captain Barbossa of lab safety.’”

A few scattered laughs. Hermann looks around, shocked, possibly by the getting any sort of reaction and possibly by his own delivery.

“Ha!” A nearby J-Tech officer exclaims. “That is legit.” He turns to someone on his left. “I heard the Marshall chew him out a couple weeks ago for—“

“Hey, asshole.” Newt shoots him a glare. “Shut up.” It’s not intelligent, Newt knows, but it’s enough to make a new officer wince.

Tendo lets out a laugh and claps Hermann on the shoulder. “Good one, doc.” He glances at Newt and smirks before taking a sip from his cup. Newt calls that glance and raises it with a death glare that fully transmits, Don’t you say a fucking word.

The initial bystanders disperse. Newt crosses his arms. “That’s not an impression. That’s just one single thing I said once. Taken way out of context, I might add.”

Hermann starts to silently fish through the candy bowl on the snack table.

Newt leans over to watch. “Lookin’ for something?”

At last, Hermann meticulously plucks a green Jolly Rancher from the bowl. “Green is the best flavor,” he says facetiously, delicately unwrapping it from the plastic. “Never mind that green isn’t a flavor but a color.” He pops it into his mouth and grimaces. “These are so sweet,” he says, returning to his usual tone. “Newton, how on earth do you eat these.

Newt rolls his eyes before taking a green Jolly Rancher out of the bowl for himself. “That green was wasted on you, dude” But when he looks back at Hermann he’s smiling slightly, albeit not looking in his direction.

---

For the next half hour, Newt tries to keep a safe distance from Hermann. He makes lap around the mess hall. One engineer, dressed as a pirate (basic, but effective) calls out, “John McClane!” And Newt makes a show cheering and giving her a high-five that is audible throughout the hall.

But the space is finite, and eventually his path leads him back to Hermann, who’s at the center of a small group of PPDC staff who are amused by his current monologuing. Newt slides up behind them and catches Hermann in mid-sentence.

“—and it’s an album from the point of view of a man who’s wretched, who is confronting his misdoings, his mistreatment of others, his skewed relationship with love, in this operatic way—“

In that moment, it strikes Newt that Hermann may have actually been listening. Through all the monologues, through all the rants. Newt flushes with equal parts embarrassment in the accuracy and another feeling he’s tried to push down for seven years.

“But the thing about Weezer,“ Hermann continues, emphasizing the band with an American emphasis on the -er, “Is that they created two perfect albums, so their next twelve mediocre ones are forgivable—“

“The White Album is not mediocre!” Newt finally exclaims from behind the small group, unable to stop himself. He pushes forward and softly grabs Hermann by the arm. Hermann looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, defiant. Newt turns around at the small group casually listening in. “Yeah, yeah, he’s great—excuse us for a sec, will ya?” Without waiting for a reply, he gently pulls his colleague by the arm to the hallway outside, promptly stepping in close, so Hermann is the only thing between Newt and the wall.

“What the hell, dude?” Newt hisses.

Hermann leans his head back against the concrete wall. “Being you is very easy,” he says scathingly.

With a short laugh, and Newt goes in for the kiss. Rough and agitated, how this sequence of events typically starts out. How things started hours prior in the lab, resulting in the change of location to Newt’s room to tear off one another’s clothes as quickly as possible. He slips a hand under Hermann’s/Newt’s own shirt and slides it up and beside Hermann’s ribcage, pulling him in closer.

“This is a new level of narcissism,” Hermann says breathlessly when Newt pulls away. “Even for you.”

“Says the guy who tastes like green.” Newt smirks. “You think you know me?”

“You are impossible not to know.” Hermann says, lifting his chin.

They lock eyes. Newt searches for some confirmation of something in Hermann’s gaze. There’s a hint, close, just behind his eyes, but it’s just out of reach. Despite his better judgement, Newt slips his hand out from under Hermann’s shirt, lifts it, hesitates momentarily, but proceeds to card it gently through Hermann’s hair, smoothing out the odd ends. From front to back, then around to rest on Hermann’s cheek. Hermann looks at him, wide-eyed.

“Newton,” he says softly.

Newt swallows. “Yeah?”

The faceless drone of the party on the other room extends the silence. They look at one another for a minute. And it strikes Newt that it’s longest either of them has gone in each other’s company without a word.

But as “Monster Mash” comes on the speakers, the mess hall erupts into cheers. The incongruity of it all breaks whatever was there, between them in the hallway. Hermann swallows. “I’ll be returning to my quarters, now,” he says, voice just above a whisper. Newt steps back, giving Hermann the space to collect his cane and step out. He gives Newt one last look, opens his mouth to speak, but closes it. He walks away without another word.

#i'm not funny enough to do this prompt true justice but...[ben wyatt voice] it's about the mutual pining #hermannsthumb #k sci

[enricodandolo]

Venusberg (Mass Effect: Andromeda; Rydercest)

Zu Gottes Preis in hoch erhabne Fernen,

blickt auf zum Himmel, blickt auf zu seinen Sternen!

Anbetung solchen Wundern zollt,

da ihr sie nicht begreifen sollt!

Doch was sich der Berührung beuget,

euch Herz und Sinnen nahe liegt,

was sich, aus gleichem Stoff erzeuget,

in weicher Formung an euch schmiegt, -

dem ziemt Genuss in freud'gem Triebe,

und im Genuss nur kenn' ich Liebe!

 She awoke some time before her alarm, the bright sunlight uncomfortably hot on her face. They hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains and the tinted windows overlooking downtown Armstrong, though filtering out harmful UV radiation, did little to shield them from visible light. She yawned, drew the somewhat clammy blanket up to her ears, rolled over and nestled closer to her partner, nuzzling up to his shoulder. His skin was hot against hers, his smell comfortingly familiar. The sun warmed her bare back through the blanket.

Sara didn’t have long to enjoy the peace and quiet. No sooner had she made herself comfortable than the omni-tool on her nightstand began blasting out Wagner. Freudig begrüßen wir die edle Halle … Groaning, she stirred, rolled off her partner’s body and grasped blindly for the tool. “Alright, alright,” she muttered, blinded by the pure white sunlight falling into her eyes, “’m awake …” She managed to stop the alarm a dozen measures in, turning the music down to a more reasonable volume. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she sat up in bed, the blanket pooling around her waist, stretched.

Once she had regained the use of her faculties and knew where, when and who she was, she glanced over at the man lying by her side. She could not stop a smile from creeping over her face. He was still fast asleep, all the efforts of Landgrave Hermann notwithstanding, curled up and clinging to the blanket. Sara leant closer. His mouth was very slightly open, his breathing slow and steady. For a moment, she watched him, following the curve of his shoulder blade, the tendons of his neck, the shadowed line of his jaw. She knew every inch of his body as well as her own, but never did she fail to be entranced, nor did her heart ever fail to leap when she saw him like this.

Having stolen this moment from him, she leaned down to kiss him. “Wakey, wakey,” she murmured into his brow. “You don’t wanna sleep in today.” He merely turned away with a groan and clung more tightly to the blanket. Sara rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself.” She strapped on her omni-tool, then got out of bed.

The sprawling suite at the Ritz-Astoria overlooking Tranquillity Base had cost them most of their remaining life savings, not that either of them had had a great deal left. Sara was pretty sure they’d drank the remainder last night, toasting a new future with a 1969 Gevrey-Chambertin. Might as well go for the novelty factor.

She walked over to the window, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet like heavy boots in the lunar regolith, and turned up the filters to dim the light. Tranquillity Base stuck out like a sore thumb, a domed-over patch of grey dust amidst the urban sprawl of downtown Armstrong. They’d seen the site before, mingling among tourists, Alliance recruits and bored schoolchildren as they looked down unto the prosaic remains of humanity’s first bumbling steps through the plexiglass floor that shielded flags and footprints. Yesterday, the place had been full of vaguely familiar faces, everywhere they’d looked had been the Initiative’s logo—excited would-be pioneers bathing in historicism. They’d glanced at each other. “Let’s get out of here.” They hadn’t actually gotten to see what they’d come for, but that was fine.  

Humming along to the music from her ‘tool, Sara moved into the bathroom, all gold and marble shipped from Earth and larger than her old flat on Arcturus. She had neglected to clean up after they had made love yesterday and was in dire need of a shower. She took her time, enjoying the hot steam and the rivulets of scalding water lashing her skin before dripping to the marble floor with that peculiar dancelike languor that seemed to define all movement in lunar gravity. Going by the projections, it sounded like it might be the last hot shower she’d have for quite some time. Just another point she hadn’t considered when agreeing to this foolhardy endeavour. The hotel shampoo smelled of citrus and Thessian spices; for a moment she considered pocketing it before remembering there was no point.

She exited the shower, dried her hair and set about the rest of her morning routine, making liberal use of the hotel toiletries and humming along to the music from her omni-tool all the while. When she exited the bathroom, she found her lover still fast asleep. Sara stilled in the doorway, taking a moment to watch him, smile on her lips. Typical. She couldn’t have pretended to be surprised, even on a day like this. At other times, she might have slipped back into bed to hold him, cherishing the rare opportunity to enjoy more than fleeting intimacy.

Instead, she rolled one of her wet towels up in a ball and hurled it at him.

Scott’s curse was muffled by drowsiness, but he bolted upright and tangled with the towel as though it had attempted to strangle him. Finally he freed himself and glared at her as best he could from half-lidded eyes. “Time to get up, sleepyhead,” she told him, smirking. “Shower’s free.”

“Could’ve just told me …” her brother grumbled and dragged himself out of bed. “No need to assault me.”

“You sleep any longer and we’re likely to miss our ride. Come on, little brother.” She caught him by the wrist as he shuffled past her towards the bathroom and leaned in to kiss him. “Good morning. You smell like shit, go shower.”

“Join me?”

“Mmhm. Next time.”

While Scott was in the bathroom, Sara got dressed in her Initiative uniform, still ill-fitting and smelling of plastics. Say what you liked about the Alliance; her navy blues had felt like a second skin. She doubted she’d ever be as comfortable in the white-and-red gear of the Pathfinder team. Just gotta sit it out, she told herself, the way they’d planned. Once things got settled in Andromeda, they’d have all the time in the world.

The clothes she’d worn yesterday (as well as the racy new lingerie she hadn’t), she folded up and left on the bedroom dresser with a note asking for the hotel staff to donate them to charity. She’d already checked in all the personal effects she’d take with her: a few changes of civilian clothes, a replica of the first Prothean potsherd she’d helped dig up, a broach that had belonged to mum, an OSD with recordings and various memories, and of course her violin in a vacuum-sealed case she’d been ensured would keep the wood from warping for at least six centuries. That last item had kinda put a limit on what else she could bring, honestly, but she wasn’t about to give up on her music.

That had been one of her conditions. She’d had a lot of those. Sara remembered that evening on the Citadel, at a Zakera Ward sushi restaurant, quite well. Neither of them had had any idea as to why they’d been ordered to attend (dad never asked) and they’d both expected the worst. Neither of them had expected a sales pitch. Start a new life in Andromeda. She had seen the rapture in Scott’s eyes as he listened to their dad and it had scared her.

They’d met up on the Presidium the next day, just her and Scott. When she saw him, she knew he’d been sold, and she hated—well, whom exactly? Him, never. Herself, their dad, the entire fucking universe? But she’d ground her teeth and argued and, in the end, relented. He’d looked as miserable as she’d felt.

By the time Scott left the bathroom, she was lounging on the couch, tapping her foot along to the music. She watched (well, leered) him scrounge up his clothes. “You want to have breakfast?” she tried, half-heartedly. “We could order room service.”

“They said not to eat anything before departure, remember?” Well, there went that idea.

She said nothing else for a while, not until her brother had finished dressing. He actually looked handsome in that cheap-ass plastic uniform, damn him. He regarded her as he zipped up his jacket, worry plain in his face. “You still having doubts about this?”

“I’m rather amazed that you aren’t.”

Scott sighed and shook his head. They’d had this conversation before, too many times. Then, he walked over to her and took her hands. “It’s not too late to back out,” he reminded her, gentle as ever. To him, it would never be too late, not until they actually locked him in his cryo pod.

She smiled at that. “It’s fine. I’ve made my choice.” Truth be told, she’d made it that day on the Presidium. They’d come into this galaxy together, after all. She wasn’t about to let Scott outlive her by six hundred years. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when this whole Initiative turns out to be a massive Ponzi scheme, though. Half the people on those arks are rich idiots with more money than sense, and Garson’s all too eager to have them carve out her own kingdom.”

“You’re such a cynic.” Scott chuckled. “Look, no one is saying this will go off without a hitch. It’ll be hard work, but in the end, it’ll be worth it, trust me. This is our chance. The moment things settle down over there, we’ll be free to go wherever we like. We’ll have a whole new galaxy to explore. None of this old shit holding us back anymore.”

How often had he painted that picture for her? The details differed—now a cabin in the mountains of Habitat 4, then a ship of their own charting the course beyond Heleus, then a beachfront villa on Habitat 7—but always, always, always they were together. The more excited he got, the less she wanted to object. We won’t be alone. Dad will be there. Nothing will change. They would still have to hide, as they had their entire lives.

She couldn’t blame Scott for wanting to try something, anything, to change that.

Anything she might have said stuck in her throat, so she kissed him. “I’ve really enjoyed these past two months,” she told him. “Thank you for that.” They had spent the weeks leading up to the arks’ departure together, longer than they’d ever had to themselves but always paranoid about being found out. As far as dad was concerned, they’d taken each other to some of their favourite places on Earth, one last pilgrimage before they left home forever.

Each had made three choices and agreed to humour the other’s: for Scott, they’d raved in Chennai nightclubs, gotten front-row seats to a Seattle Sorcerers game, and seen the aurora australis from the Transantarctic Mountains. For her, they’d gone hiking in the Hindukush, scouring the Vatican Museums, and she’d gotten her hands on two tickets for Tristan und Isolde at the Bayreuth Festival. For that last one, Scott had even refrained from making any snide comments about the music, though she had found him asleep when she tried to hold his hand in the darkness of the Festspielhaus. O sink hernieder, Nacht der Liebe. Still, they’d walked down the festival hill hand in hand, her usual caution dead in the dark of night, and clung to one another until hateful break of day.

“You’re scared,” Scott said, quietly.

Scared? Perhaps she was, at that. She wasn’t worried that the cryostasis would fail, or that Garson and her stooges would dump them all overboard the moment they’d gone to sleep. She wasn’t even scared of leaving behind everything she’d ever known for an uncertain future. “I want this to be our future,” she told her brother. “Not something dad chose for us. Not something we just fell into because it was the path of least resistance. That whole pathfinder thing, the AI, those fucking implants … every step just makes me feel more like a puppet. This whole Andromeda thing is supposed to be about freedom, a fresh start. How do you see us ever getting our fresh start if we’re dragging all our baggage with us from the Milky Way?”

“I don’t know, frankly. But I know it’ll be better than this. New galaxy, new rules, right?”

“Dad’s going to kill us when he finds out.”

“Fuck dad. Fuck all of them.” The outburst took her aback. She wasn’t used to Scott losing his cool. “This is us. No one else gets a say in this. No one.” He paused. A fire had lit up in his eyes. When he continued, his voice was gentle once more. “I love you, Sara. You want to stay, I’ll stay with you. But I’m sick and tired of hiding all the time. Whether here or in Andromeda, it’s high time for us to come out and face the music. And we’re gonna do it together.”

It was a well-practised speech, one she had heard before many times, in many different forms. Sometimes, it had moved her to tears, other times she had laughed it off. Now, she could not but wonder. She tried to imagine the two of them standing in front of their father—no, no, not that. Much better not to dwell on that. Think rather of what would come after (assuming they survived). That log cabin on Habitat 4, those white beaches on Habitat 7, but always: Scott, Scott, Scott, and her always by his side, the way it should be. Waking up together (ish) every morning, going to sleep together (ish) every night, all the things they could never have in the Milky Way.

Children? Why the hell not? It wasn’t as though they wouldn’t have genetic engineers in Andromeda. In fact, the Initiative had insisted on administering additional gene therapy to the Pathfinder teams along their AI implants, in addition to that they had received in-utero and in the Alliance. Little Scotts and little Saras, born into a new world their parents had forged for them … She glanced at her sweet, brash fool of a twin, heart melting. Well, maybe that would be something to consider, at least when they were a bit older and things in Andromeda had settled down.

“Scott?” she asked, softly, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Promise me this, okay?”

“Anything,” he responded at once, then added, in pretend hesitation. “This isn’t gonna be like our 14th—”

She had to laugh. “No, you dork. Come on, I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here, alright?”

Scott smiled up at her, laid a warm, tender hand upon hers. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Promise me we’ll always be together.”

“Always. I promise.”

  It was never supposed to be like this.

She hides her thoughts, her feelings, from the spy inside her brain, the voice that will not shut up. “You promised,” she whispers, voice choked as she holds her twin’s hand. She wants to bed her head on his chest, hear his heartbeat, but there are always people watching. She wants to kiss her prince awake or share in his slumber, wants to feel him once again, but it is always watching. She wants to spend eternity by his bedside, but she cannot shirk her duties. Lives depend on her—their future depends on her. “You promised …”

She lets go off his hand, dries her tears, and shoulders her violin. She can do this for him, at least, she tells herself, as if he’d care. This is for her. Something from Tannhäuser, perhaps. Yes, that’ll do nicely.

   Dir, Göttin der Liebe, soll mein Lied ertönen, gesungen laut sei jetzt dein Preis von mir! Dein süßer Reiz ist Quelle alles Schönen, und jedes holde Wunder stammt von dir! Wer dich mit Glut in seine Arme geschlossen, was Liebe ist, kennt der, nur der allein! Armsel'ge, die ihr Liebe nie genossen, zieht hin! Zieht in den Berg der Venus ein!

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #mea #sara ryder #scott ryder #richard wagner #tannhäuser #*looks up at tags* .... huh #rydercest #fanfic

[shadeops21]

Give Me A Fandom Meme: Ace Combat

Oh my god Smash! Really have to make me work for this one! I hope you’re ready for a lot of pictures and gifs as my responses.

Btw, I’ll only be specifying non-player characters, as Ace Combat is a type of game that makes you the main character of sorts (no info past call sign and maybe gender from dialogue). Also gonna put it under a Keep Reading because this is gonna be loooonnnggg.

Favourite Male Character:

Outside of the player character Aces from all of the titles, I have to give this to AWACS Ghost Eye from AC6: Fires of Liberation. An AWACS controller who legitimately cares for the forces under his command, is willing to crack a joke with them, yet also doesn’t hesitate to pull them up when they’ve fucked up.

Favourite Female Character:

Sadly, there aren’t that many female characters in the series as a whole, both as pilots and background characters, compared to the male cast. This is probably because there just aren’t that many female fighter pilots in the real world, and the game reflects this as well.

That said, the female characters that do exist aren’t pushovers in any way, shape, or form. Húxiān (AC7) is a fiercesome and aggressive pilot, both in the skies and on the ground. Melissa (AC6) goes through hell and back to reunite with her daughter in the midst of an invasion of her homeland.

My favourite has to go to Kei “Edge” Nagase, of AC5: The Unsung War, though. Loyal, dedicated, fierce, yet still retains that idealistic nature often lost in veteran pilots. I could go on and on as to why I love this character, but I’d run out of space.

Least Favourite Character:

I don’t exactly have a least favourite character, because I developed a sympathy towards the majority of “enemy” characters despite the fact that they are fighting against you.

If I had to pick, though, I would have to go towards Col Orson Perrault (AC5), the base command of Sand Island AFB. Dude’s a pompous asshole who shouldn’t be an Officer, let alone the OADF.

Favourite Ship:

There’s not much to ship in this game (at least for me), because there’s no real premise for shipping. The most common that I’ve seen are Blaze x Edge (AC5 pairing between the player character Blaze and Edge, mentioned above), Talisman x Melissa (AC6, between the player’s wingman and the civilian Melissa Hermann, though that ship is born out of tragedy mostly), and Count x Húxiān (two wingmen of the player who start out as hostile to each other and across the game grow to see each other as good friends).

I’d have to pick the Blaze x Edge ship, because I just like the dynamic of the two pilots growing close to each other after fighting a long and hard war, only able to really depend on themselves and nobody else.

Favourite Friendship:

Count x Húxiān. They did not like each other when Trigger and Count transferred from Spare into the LRSSG’s Strider and Cyclops Squadrons. The pair traded barbs with each other in almost every mission at the start but they slowly grew to appreciate each other, befriend each other. It’s the non-romantic “enemies to lovers” trope, which I am a sucker for.

Favorite Quote:

I think what Ghost Eye says at the end of AC6 is one of my favourite quotes from the series. I’ll let the pictures do the talking:

Worst Character Death:

This is a tie, between Chopper’s sacrifice in AC5 and Brownie’s death in AC7, for different reasons.

Brownie is an NPC wingman introduced in the first mission of AC7 as a member of the friendly Golem Squadron. At the end of Mission 3, “Operation Dual Wielder”, Mage, Golem, and Gargoyle SQN’s retreat from the first Arsenal Bird after the entirety of Skeleton SQN was shot down.

By this point in the mission, she’d already taken a missile hit and was being escorted back by Gargoyle 1, but the pair were engaged by a then-unidentified Sol 1. Gargoyle 1 was quickly shot down, but Sol 1 toyed with Brownie, driving her to a near-mental breakdown before downing her and escaping...

Just hearing her voice and composure falter with every radio call... it broke my heart...

As for Chopper...

After a long string of successful defensive and offensive missions, Wardog SQN are tasked with a ceremonial flight for a pro-war rally deep within your home territory (although your aircraft remain armed due to wartime).

After the flight, the stadium that the rally is being held in comes under enemy air attack, and Wardog snaps into defensive posture and pushes back the waves of enemy aircraft. However, radios become jammed and another squadron radios in to say “hell of a drill they’re running, return to base”.

While your AWACS tries to reorganise the reinforcement aircraft, Chopper takes a hit from an enemy aircraft. He continues to fight and fly, trying to keep his jet from crashing into the homes below. However, once the airspace is cleared and everything seems okay, Chopper announces that the damage to his aircraft has worsened to the point where he cannot eject...

Despite everyone’s pleas, Chopper simply says:

And then:

And then more enemy aircraft arrive! You play through the final wave listening to nothing but the choked sobs of your other wingmen before the enemy opt to finally give up the attack and retreat.

The mission ends with this:

... and this...

(The F-16′s fly a ‘missing man’ flypast, reserved for funeral flypasts. The one aircraft breaking away from the others signifies the ‘departure’ of the person being laid to rest...)

I still get emotional from this sequence, even after playing through the game countless times. I think it’s because you aren’t expecting this kind of gut punch, especially this late into the game. By this point, you’ve flown sixteen missions in the campaign, each between ten to fifteen minutes a piece, plus cutscenes. I grew really attached to the entire squadron, and for one of them to die like this? It nearly broke me.

“This made me so happy you have no idea!” Moment:

Twelve years after the latest numbered release to the series (AC6: Fires Of Liberation was released in 2007), I sat down the night of the 18 of Janurary, 2019.

It took me a lot of effort not to cry when this sequence started up...

Saddest Moment:

See ‘Worst Character Death’, sub-section ‘Chopper’.

Favorite Location:

This is really hard, as a lot of the terrains and maps in the PS2 games aren’t excessively detailed or picturesque. It wasn’t until AC6 (Xbox 360) that we got higher quality terrains, and then with AC7 we’ve got top of the line terrains.

Though, out of pure sentimentality, I’d have to go with Sand Island Air Force Base from AC5. The home base for the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron “Wardog”, 5th Air Wing, Osean Air Defense Force, off the western peninsula of the Osean continent.

It’s a remote airfield out in the Ceres Ocean, and the field is primarily used for pilot training due to the wide open space it provides, as well as serving as a ‘last stop’ for military flights headed eastbound to Yuktobania.

The island and it’s layout takes inspiration from the real world Midway Atoll and the airfields that were established there during WW2, which is a cool little fact too...

[dutchcementmixer]

And the World Kept Spinning On

Read on AO3 here

She heard him laugh, head thrown back in mirth, thousands of moments concentrated into one, into here and now, and she fell in love again.

(His name was Gilbert Beilschmidt, but that wasn’t very important, because very soon, it will be forgotten, and her name is Erzsébet Héderváry, and that wasn’t important either, because names like this lose their meaning with time.)

--------

Or, Erzsébet and Gilbert's story, in which, Erzsébet cannot die, and Gilbert comes back, every time, as someone different.

The first time she met him, she was young and free, human, before the world had unleashed its fury on her and took that away too. And they were friends, even though they were not supposed to be, because children are like that – they see the good in the world and they chase it, because sides don’t matter, because they see another human being and they don’t point their swords at them but run to them and scream friend.

They spent those innocent days together, two inseparable little fiends, wreaking havoc in the fields, fighting with sticks.

I will be a knight one day, he would boast, the bravest knight in all the lands, and you’d be my lady love.

And she would swat him on the arm and they’d throw mud at each other until one of their mothers come to tell them off, and they’d run away, giggling, because that was fun, wasn’t it?

And then, and then, the times changed. Boy and girl grew into man and woman, and nothing is so simple anymore, and life thrust big words like marriage and duty and honour at them. And he must go off and fight, and she must stay at home, because that’s what they’re supposed to do. He lost his life in the battlefield, and she lost hers too, screaming long into the night, as they took her soul from her.

(She had only known three days later. It was a dark and stormy night, and a single messenger flitted between the cottages in the town, bringing about the news of the deaths of their loved ones. He had hesitated at the sight of her, eyes feral and bloodshot, dress ripped to tatters. He’d delivered his message and fled, leaving her alone with her grief. And grieve she did, curled in a ball, howling at the sky, at Fate’s cruelty, at the injustice of it all.)

And the world kept spinning, on and on, because that what it’s supposed to do.

~O.o.o.o.O~

(His name was Gilbert Beilschmidt, but that wasn’t very important, because very soon, it will be forgotten, and her name is Erzsébet Héderváry, and that wasn’t important either, because names like this lose their meaning with time.)

~O.o.o.o.O~

She tried ending herself twenty-three days later. It didn’t work.

She bled out in the morning, and woke up in the afternoon.

~O.o.o.o.O~

She has long since stopped counting the summers, or really, counting much at all. For a being like her who had walked the Earth for so long under the guise of a maiden, Time does not suit her, and so she ignores Him entirely. But for the woman (being? sprite? thing?) once known as Erzsébet Héderváry, there is one constant amidst the chaos of quick-flowing human lives.

She forgot the past, because it hurt less this way, she forgot what it was like to be human, because that hurt too, and she forgot she had a soul, because that hurt the most of all. And she dulled her eyes, numbed her senses, because what’s the point, really, being stuck in a world where everything is in perpetual motion except you, and even if you run so fast that you open all your old wounds again, you still won’t catch up.

And she did see humanity’s suffering, not because she wanted to but because her eyes were open at the wrong place, wrong time, and she weeps, not for them, but for herself, because seeing means you can’t be numb, and this sudden clarity, it stabs into your heart and it stays there, unmoving, until you rip it out yourself, and the memories stays, and it haunt you, for a long, long time, and no matter how many bottles of spirit you chug down your throat, it stays .

The world of course, kept spinning, because it can’t fucking stop, as much as she’d like it to.

~O.o.o.o.O~

She saw him again, one day, after she’d decided that the past is the past and that she might as well make the most of her current existence (hah!). And it made no sense because he was dead and had been dead for the best of a millennium, and for everyone’s best interest should probably stay dead. But she saw him, and her eyes do not lie.

Sure, it wasn’t the same person, because they didn’t have his fiery eyes and lopsided smile, didn’t have the same timbre in their voice, but she’d felt it, the way her long-presumed-dead soul jumped at the sight of them, the ache in her heart, and, for the first time in 894 years, Erzsébet Héderváry truly felt again. And she heard him laugh, head thrown back in mirth, thousands of moments concentrated into one, into here and now, and she fell in love again.

(Later, she learnt his name was Hermann, and that he was an infantryman in the army. He spoke German and a little bit of Hungarian, and had a little brother called Siegfried. She had exactly three months and fourteen days with him before he marched again, and exactly four years, five months and twenty-one days before she realised he wasn’t coming back.)

The world kept spinning, the wars kept going, and she left as quietly as she came, albeit a little more drunk, a little bit more alive.

~O.o.o.o.O~

She saw him again, this time as a famous ballerina with a quick wit and even quicker feet, the same twang in her heart and the same ache in her soul. And she took her on her tours and kissed her behind the cabinets, and Erzsébet once again remembered love. They lived together in a cosy little cottage a little distance from the cities, with a quaint little vegetable garden that her Julia loved taking care of. And she could almost fool herself that she was human.

Julia did die, but not alone, and as the world moved on, so did Erzsébet. (Or at least, tried to. It didn’t work all that well.)

~O.o.o.o.O~

She saw him at a bar, a handsome young waiter wearing a shirt with too many buttons left open and quite possibly the worst done tie she had seen in her life. It was one of the busier bars in Berlin, and she was just there to pass the time, get a little drunk and do something stupid. He smiled at her, more sweetly than politeness required, and his eyes, icy blue this time, twinkled. And her heart seemed to forget how to beat and her soul sang and she was painfully reminded of something called love.

Have I met you before, he asked, smiling that familiar lopsided smile.

And perhaps you have, she replied smoothly, and her heart thundered away in her chest and her soul screamed at her yes, tell him.

~O.o.o.o.O~

She was on top of the tallest building in the world, because human-made things don’t last, and you should take the chance to see them while they’re still there. There was a girl standing on top of the balcony railing, grey jacket dirty, ash blonde hair flying in the wind. In the split second before she fell, their eyes met, amber on green, and Erzsébet remembered. She watched helplessly as the girl who, in another life, was Gilbert Beilschmidt, plummeted to her death.

She screamed and cursed, at Fate, at the world, and some of the things she said were true. Fate is cruel, and Her sense of humour is atrocious at best, abominable at worst. But She does have a heart, not a good heart, mind you, but a heart nonetheless, and perhaps that is why they will always meet again, but the circumstances are never favourable.

And the world kept spinning, because Fate willed it so, and Fate is cruel.

~O.o.o.o.O~

And she did see him again, through the years. The playwright, the aspiring pilot, the little Jewish girl hiding behind ruins, the charismatic German-American actress, the awkward accountant, and so on. And, Fate does enjoy the bad timing of their meetings way too much. But they make it work somehow, and, she treasures those precious moments. And she was reminded, sharply, of that stubborn little thing called hope.

~O.o.o.o.O~

Sometimes I felt like I’ve known you forever, he told her, sprawled on the couch, clutching a bottle of beer.

Me too, she said, and they carry on drinking, even though she knew she should get out of there, get away from bombs that she knew were dropping on them.

The house rattled as another missile landed somewhere near them.

She raised her bottle, To peace.

To peace, he echoed.

~O.o.o.o.O~

People will always question why they seem so strange together, why she never seems to age, why there are no children no matter what. And she let them talk. It does not matter. What matters is that Erzsébet and Gilbert found each other again, at the twisted hands of Fate, and no, he can’t stay this time either, but they know they will find each other again, somehow, somewhere, no matter what the future holds.

The world kept moving of course, and a bad metaphor in this case would be to say it is like a disco ball, but that’s a bad metaphor so let’s just say that the Earth is hurtling through space at the speed of 1,670 km per hour and the sun brings our Solar System around its own orbit in the centre of the Milky Way and Erzsébet and Gilbert orbit each other, through the days, and through the River of Time.

Fin

Written on a cold Tuesday night at 12 pm knowing there is school tomorrow. Historical accuracy was thrown out the window, because my internet stop working after 11. The only research I did was how fast Earth moves. Sue me. I am a gremlin with zero sense of self-preservation.

#fanfiction #my writing #oh look i stopped procrastinating and wrote something #aph #hetalia #pruhun #writers on tumblr #aph prussia #aph hungary #reincarnation #angst #hetalia fanfic

[boylikeanangel]

*pssst* do you have any Newt and Hermann adopted kid headcanons??

this has been sitting in my inbox for ages because i have never really considered newmann as parents before, but on further consideration, they would be great parents, come the fuck ON:

- newt is objectively Bad with kids, he can’t keep houseplants alive, but you have to credit him for trying. he’s a very passionate parent, like he is with literally every other aspect of life. he’s trying his absolute hardest

- hermann is that one dickhead that pretends to hate kids but is secretly AMAZING with them, they all just love him for some reason. he insists that he doesn’t want children, but he does. he really does

- i think they would probably adopt only one child, and this is just a personal hc but they would probably want a girl. you know they’re gonna project all their special interests onto their kid, and they want to raise an outstanding Woman in STEM

- newt is the dad who lets her do whatever she wants, so by default hermann has to be the dad that actually enforces authority around the house, even though he’s secretly just as soft as newt when it comes to spoiling her. she’s constantly wrapped up in a web of “don’t tell your dad”’s when one of them inevitably caves and buys her that very expensive telescope or takes her out for ice cream three times in one day

- just imagine the fucking science fair projects. she gets disqualified one year because the functioning volcano newt helped her make functioned so well it nearly burnt the school gym to the ground. the first year she refuses her dads’ help, insisting she can handle it herself, newt cries for a whole day.

- of course she’s top of the class in maths, biology, and physics. no one even comes close to her grades.

- she’s the biggest dinosaur fanatic you can ever imagine

- newt is such an embarrassing dad. he’s always sat taking photos at her awards ceremonies crying like a fucking baby whilst she rolls her eyes at him and pretends she doesn’t know him. hermann is exasperated and calls him ridiculous, it’s just her primary school graduation, but he’s crying too

- when she’s very young, hermann is the one that reads her bedtime stories and goes to comfort her when she has a nightmare. too many times newt has been waiting an hour for him to come back downstairs and he goes up to find them both asleep with a book still open in hermann’s hands.

- hermann is often sad that he can’t run around and play with newt and their daughter, and has to suffice for sitting on a park bench and watching as newt teaches her to ride a bike, but they always make sure to do activities that hermnann can participate in, even if it’s just sitting and feeding the ducks together

- they live in england, but she ends up growing up with an awful amalgamate of a pretentious rp and american accent. hermann hears her call the pavement a “sidewalk” one time and berates newt for a straight hour

- no one dares bully their child. both of them know exactly what that’s like and they make it very clear from day one that any child that crosses their daughter will die a slow and painful death.

- this kid can get away with fucking everything. she just has to remind everyone that her dads saved the world and then continues vandalising the teachers’ lounge.

- when she’s about four, hermann goes away for the week on a conference trip and they facetime every night and just seeing his daughter’s face brings hermann to tears. he misses them both so much that he hurries home as quickly as possible, only to find them both asleep on the sofa, in matching dinosaur onesies and the land before time playing to itself on the tv. hermann has never cried harder in his entire life.

- i like to think that they had a very quick marriage in hong kong after the breach closed, so after they adopt their daughter they have another, more official wedding, and she’s their flower girl. she helps them cut the cake and hermann manages to stay on his feet most of the night just because he can’t get enough of dancing with his twice-over husband and daughter. literal family goals

- idk man they just love their little girl so much they’re the best dads in the world even though they lowkey don’t know what they’re doing and probably never will. she turns out alright though (you bet she’s gay too)

(i’m not taking uprising into account here btw, this is post first movie only. i feel like they wouldn’t want kids after uprising and would settle for a cat instead. but if we’re disregarding uprising, then they definitely adopt. i’m here for this.)

feel free to add!!

#this took like an hour to write please reblog it #newmann #ask

[littlebigkaiju]

Turns out I had a lot to say about Pacific Rim: Uprising

Opening statement: It’s now VERY clear why Guillermo Del Toro has had nothing at all to say about this movie on Twitter. Has it ruined Pacific Rim for me? Nothing could. Has it destroyed the future of this franchise? Almost certainly. No real spoilers in the list of good points, but BEWARE OF SPOILERS IN THE BAD POINTS.

THE GOOD:

Dr Hermann Gottlieb gets arguably the best deal out of all the returning cast. His position in the PPDC at this point is unclear, (research and development?), but he plays a fun, engaging part with a surprising amount of screen time. It’s great for him to have such an important role in this movie despite his separation from Newt, and I honestly loved him.

Liwen Shao. Definitely a character with more depth than I had expected. I really came to like her and her role in the movie.

The new Kaiju designs are GREAT. They’re suitably different than those of the original movie without being a complete departure (there are definitely some familiar themes in Raijin and Shrikethorn).

The Mega Kaiju is terribly underutilised, but he’s wonderful. He turns the tide of battle very quickly and really feels like an unstoppable force.

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT MOUNT FUJI, and this turned out to be an interesting revelation about the Precursors’ plan of action. Very cool, although by the end of the movie I was wishing their plan had succeeded.

THE BAD (SPOILERS EVERYWHERE):

Let’s get this one out of the way: Uprising is a massive “fuck you” to the character development of its returning cast. Pacific Rim holds the distinction of having had an alternative to the Bechdel Test created after it. (It’s called the Mako Mori test – At least one female character who gets her own narrative arc that is not about supporting a man’s story.) Almost unbelievably, Uprising manages to destroy this. The vision and portrayal of Mako in the original Pacific Rim is fantastic. Her motivation is driven by tragedy, as her family was killed during Onibaba’s attack on Tokyo, but she’s incredibly smart (the head of the MK-3 Jaeger restoration project, in fact) and a talented Jaeger pilot in training with a simulation drop to kill score of 51 to 51, something that makes even veteran pilots turn their heads. Not only was Mako in charge of restoring Gipsy Danger to her full glory and installing the chain sword that would become her trademark weapon, she became instrumental in defeating the most powerful Kaiju ever seen, avenging her family and ultimately saving the world. Despite this, she’s a humble and strongly emotional character; a brilliant example of what a strong female character should be. (Strength doesn’t preclude emotion or empathy, but movies like to tell us it should.) I really can’t emphasise enough how important she to this franchise. In Uprising, Mako has become the secretary general of the PPDC – So far, so good. Unfortunately, that’s where the ‘good’ ends for Mako. She’s briefly in contact with her estranged adoptive brother Jake Pentecost to create the impression that they’re making up after some longstanding disagreement, just enough to indicate to the audience that we should care about their relationship. Because the next time we see Mako, she dies in a helicopter crash purely so Jake can have some angst and a reason to take his position in the PPDC more seriously. This REALLY pisses me off. Mako Mori, arguably the most important character in Pacific Rim, is given a screen time of around 5-10 minutes and reduced to nothing more than the victim of the infamous fridge trope in its sequel. Mako deserved better. If she was going to die in this movie she should have been in a Jaeger, fighting to save the world once more. What a travesty of a decision this was.

Though John Boyega plays a good part, it’s painfully, painfully obvious that the character of Jake Pentecost was invented solely for him to have a larger role in the movie, one with a direct link to some of the most heroic figures in the Pacific Rim universe. Given that John became a producer for Uprising, it’s hard not to feel like his ego is the primary factor driving this decision (and, ultimately, the death of Mako Mori, since she’s the only other relative of Stacker Pentecost and the only original pilot to return in this movie). Jake’s manufactured existence causes the audience to question what we know of Stacker, the strict but doting adoptive father of Mako Mori. Given the appropriate time and care, this could have had the potential to be a plot point that would add more depth to Stacker, Jake, and Mako as a family, but as with all the character development in Uprising, it’s rushed. Jake’s relationship with Mako and their father is barely mentioned at all, such that I only know that Jake was inducted into the Jaeger Academy like Mako, but was kicked out of the program for attempting to pilot a Jaeger alone. Jake was either disowned or simply ran away. There’s no more discussion than that, giving us the impression that Stacker Pentecost couldn’t care less that his son was living rough and stealing Jaeger technology to make ends meet while he continued with his duties as a PPDC marshal. None of this adds anything of value to these characters. It simply conflicts with the way Stacker was portrayed in the original movie, tarnishing the legendary reputation that Uprising is otherwise so fond of bringing up.

The characterisation “fuck you” continues with some very poor handling of a villainous Newt. (Oh Newt, buddy, how they’ve wronged you.) It’s not news to most fans that Guillermo Del Toro was toying around with the idea of taking Newt in a villainous direction for the sequel after his repeated exposure to the Kaiju hivemind in the Drift. Ghost Drifting is a known quantity in the Pacific Rim universe; essentially a residual connection outside of the Drift that results in shared thoughts and behaviours. The idea of this being an opening for the Precursors to hijack Newt and use him for their own gain is REALLY interesting and something I was legitimately excited about, but the execution of it here is just plain bad. The reveal of Alice is appropriately creepy, but is left unexplored beyond a singular, unsavoury scene. The implication of it ends up feeling more like Newt betrays all of humanity for the sake of some virtual reality Kaiju sex, rather than because he is being used as a literal puppet by the Precursors, and that’s a pretty awful thing to do to a fandom-beloved character who had more than a small part in saving the world the first time around. He gets a couple of nice scenes with Dr Gottlieb and a small moment with his monstrous Mega Kaiju creation (which smacks of Leatherback’s curiosity about Striker Eureka, minus the personality), and that’s… it. For the rest, he’s treated like shit.

Uprising is also a massive “fuck you” to the world building of the original movie. In Pacific Rim, it was established that the highly pollutant nature of Kaiju Blue meant that Jaeger pilots had to avoid using weapons like swords that would cause bleeding while fighting Kaiju in populated areas. Apparently, no-one gives a shit about this 10 years into the future, despite the fact that we’ve discovered Kaiju Blue is also incredibly explosive. Nope, we’ve got a mace coated in knives, massive machine guns, and chain swords abound. There’s Kaiju Blue everywhere, but who cares?

On the above note, watch Gipsy Danger carefully during the Battle of Hong Kong in the original movie. Her pilots, Mako and Raleigh, take great care not to damage the buildings around them where possible, even stepping over a bridge instead of simply walking through it. Not so in Uprising – Apparently Tokyo’s shiny new skyscrapers (which are only around 10 years old) are all fair game. Jake Pentecost uses Gipsy Avenger’s gravity sling to intentionally pull down a good four or five skyscrapers onto Raijin, for all the good that does, while the pilots of Saber Athena casually drag the Jaeger’s twin swords through the buildings at either side of her for no particular reason.

Likewise, drifting is important… except when it’s not. This movie pushes the idea that it’s easier to form bonds (and thus be Drift compatible) at a younger age, which is why all the new cadets in training are in their teens. They’re not actually meant to be deployed until they’re older – Fine, I’ll buy that. Amara repeatedly fails to successfully drift with anyone in training, making her a very weak contender in the Jaeger Program, but then magically drifts with a total of three other pilots for the battle in Tokyo because… Well, because the plot required it to happen.

As previously mentioned, the character development in this movie is almost non-existent. This hits the new Jaeger pilots especially hard because we get almost no information about their backstories, their training history, etc. so seeing them in action becomes an unknown quantity with little impact. There is a pilot called Jules and I know nothing about her, because Jules is a character who exists to be nothing more than an object for two men to compete and drool over. This is the sequel to the movie that prompted the creation of the alternative to the Bechdel test, everybody. Good job.

Uprising tries very hard to be its own thing, (much to the detriment of the returning cast and the world building of the original), but it just can’t help but lean on the legacy of its predecessor. References to the original movie appear in the form of bargain basement scene reshoots instead of clever nods. There are many, but here’s the worst: Amara lost her family to a Kaiju known as Insurrector, just like Mako Mori, who lost hers to Onibaba when it made landfall in Tokyo. We see this in a flashback when she attempts to drift with Jake, just like when Mako drifts with Raleigh for the first time. And just like Mako, she gets hold of the memory and can’t let go, so the pair of them are thrown out of neural alignment while Jake appears in her memory and pleads for her to stop. At this point we’re not really referencing the original movie so much as remaking it shot-for-shot.

True to the genre, Pacific Rim’s Kaiju had powerful abilities – Flight, electrical discharges, acid spit; things sometimes a step removed from reality but certainly inspired by real creatures. But the Kaiju in Uprising are magic. They can do some very bizarre things that are never given any kind of explanation, like absorbing energy from attacks to send it right back to their Jaeger aggressors. Even more bizarrely, when succumbing to the influence of the Precursors, the drone Jaegers suddenly sprout Kaiju flesh and appendages like glowing Kudzu on speed. We’ve never seen Precursor tech with any level of regenerative capacity, let alone the ability to flash-grow an entire Kaiju from an old sample of a brain, yet this happens and then it’s never referenced again. None of the other Kaiju exhibit abilities like this, so not only is it out of place but it feels like a missed opportunity because it could have been used to great effect for the false scare with the shattered Mega Kaiju at the end of the movie.

The individual designs of the Kaiju are great, but they’re given frustratingly little time to shine on their own and have absolutely no personality to speak of. Raijin gets some nice screen time, but Hakuja and Shrikethorn are barely visible and never really get to feel like a threat despite being Category IV Kaiju (the same as Leatherback and Otachi, who REALLY fuck shit up in Pacific Rim). This is especially disappointing given that they appear only in the last 20 minutes or so of the movie. Even the Mega Kaiju, who is quite magnificent to behold, only shows up for about 5 minutes and gets nothing in the way of special moves or tricks hidden up his sleeve; certainly nothing we didn’t see in trailers. Seriously, if you’ve seen the trailers for this movie, you’ve seen all the Kaiju action.

Both the Kaiju and the Jaegers are weightless. They move far too quickly and unfortunately so does the camera, meaning that fights quickly descend into a sort of mild chaos in which it can be quite difficult to focus on what’s happening. This is in stark contrast to the original, which took great pains to express the sheer weight and volume of Jaegers and their Kaiju foes, and carefully choreographed and framed the action for maximum impact. When Gipsy Danger prepares to fire the rocket on her elbow, the process takes a good few seconds – The moving of armour plating, the ignition of the rocket, the lowering of air brakes and then the swing of the punch. In Uprising, Avenger does all of this in about half a second. There’s no anticipation; blink and you’ll miss it. Likewise, Uprising misses these beats with its Kaiju. There’s a brilliant moment where Bracer Phoenix launches its mace into the side of the Mega Kaiju’s head, (to hilariously underwhelming effect), only for the Kaiju to whip around and shred the Jaeger in a matter of seconds. Had this been a shot in Pacific Rim, the Mega Kaiju would have taken a moment to shake its head, express its displeasure with a roar, and then clamp its jaws around the offending Jaeger. Sadly, this injection of personality and humour is skipped.

Under the persistent control of the Precursors, Newt designs a swarm of small creatures called Rippers who deconstruct Raijin, Hakuja, and Shrikethorn to recombine them into the unnamed Mega Kaiju. There’s no indication of whether the Kaiju are prepared for this, or, like the abused living weapons they truly are, whether they’re actually distressed by having something happen to them that they don’t understand. All we’d need here is for them to fall weirdly still and assume a formation, or to show signs of distress or aggression, and we could get the idea either way. Unfortunately, what we get is somewhere in the middle, so I suppose we can just assume they don’t care. How blank and characterless.

There are plot holes and lost threads all over the place in this movie. Here’s one of my favourites: Hermann requests help from Kaiju biology specialist Newt as he tries to figure out a way to combine Kaiju blood and rare earth metals to create a propellant more powerful than rocket fuel. Newt declines, Hermann despairs… and then somehow figures it out anyway off screen, just in time for the fuel to be used in a Jaeger launch. What?

Similarly, we find out why Obsidian Fury is a rogue Jaeger, but we never get an explanation for who’s responsible for its existence. The inference is that it’s meant to be Newt, but the idea that he somehow used Shao Industries’ automated factories to construct an entire uncommissioned Jaeger without anyone ever noticing is a stretch, to say the least. The same goes for the Rippers.

Ghost Drifting, Part II? This is very minor, but as much as I enjoyed him there’s something odd about Hermann’s characterisation in this movie. He’s not just a mathematician but a really goddamn passionate one, (“Numbers are as close as we get to the handwriting of god.”), but that job just doesn’t exist for him in Uprising. The closest we get is him talking about using a ‘fractal algorithm’ to decode some damaged data. Instead, Hermann seems to be spending his time messing around with Kaiju biology, having discovered that Kaiju blood reacts violently with rare earth metals. I assume we’re meant to be seeing the residual effects of the Drift, but even despite that, taking up the dissection of Kaiju samples just seems like something Hermann would never do, given his sheer distaste for Kaiju biology. (“No Kaiju entrails on my side of the room,” per the first movie; “…when we drifted with that disgusting Kaiju brain,” per the second.)

Tone. Pacing. Both of these are awful. The movie opens with a vague recap of the original, complete with footage lifted directly from it. This is otherwise known as Really Shitty Exposition.

There’s a terrible and wholly unnecessary montage scene with an equally terrible rendition of the Pacific Rim theme as remixed by Patrick Stump… because of reasons. I threw up in my mouth a little.

The movie contains a whole lot of forced Marvel-style humour. Everywhere. That’s not an inherently bad thing but never once does it feel fitting here. In addition to this, a dead meme is shoehorned in because apparently Steven De Knight is a cheap asshole who’d rather fall back on a meme to try for laughs instead of committing to a serious tone for more than 5 seconds at a time. Out of nowhere, one of the cadets is playing the Russian Trololol song on one of the Jaeger’s internal screens during their deployment. What the ever-loving fuck does that have to do with anything? Except for utterly destroying the moment the movie was trying to build?

I really could go on, but I think I’d rather forget the existence of this movie.

#Pacific Rim Uprising Spoilers #PRU Spoilers #Pacific Rim Uprising #I'm gonna have to go ahead and pretend this movie never existed #Strifespeak

[signechan]

Pacific Rim 2

THIS POST IS ENTIRELY SPOILERS DON’T READ UNTIL YOU’VE SEEN THE MOVIE.

I enjoyed it. I didn’t think it was as good as the first one but it had some elements I really enjoyed.

Since the entire thing is a homage to anime, I liked the band of plucky teens who saved the world. I liked all of the new characters. I liked that they managed to make a viable threat and weren’t just like “And lol he breach is open again”. I really liked Newt as that threat. There was a minute before we realised he was controlled when I was like, wait, ooc, stop, then we found out and I was like, oh, yeah, my boy Newt here would 100% turn around 5 minutes after surviving the appocalypse and plug his brain back into the fucking alien becasue he was lonely or some shit. I liked the diversity of the cast a lot and the way the movie worked itself out, though I found the execution of the ending slighlty anti-climatic. I loved Herman getting to have more screen time for himself. Fucking nerds! Give me more nerds! Young Pentacost was great as was his boyfriend and I liked tiny Jaegar pilot. All the characters were good. The plot was over the top and ridiculous but, anime inspired! It’s meant to be!

The main problem with it, for me, was too many character syndrome. It felt a little like they generated a load of plots then were like, let’s do them all! Woohoo! I think, if it were me, I’d have stripped out Pentecost’s son entirely (I liked him, but too many characters, you have to get rid of some). I’d have made Mako into something like Pentacost was in the first, had her bring in tiny Jaegar, then made the kids the emotional focus of the movie. Have everyone else taken out in that first attack then we have to send the kids in. I’d have kept the kids over the son because of the anime reference. Hell, make the lead kid Pentacost’s son and give the role to a young black man.

I thought Mako’s death was cheap. She died and nobody seemed to care why and it felt like they never mentioned her again. In the first one, you have a sense whenever someone died that it was a reminder of the terrible cost of war. It was almost impresonal, they weren’t targeted it die, they died becasue war is terrible. And they were morned and their deaths meant something and motivated characters going forwards. Mako’s death just served as an introduction point for the new evil. It was cheap and I didn’t like it.

Now, I would like a million fix-it fic. I kind of want to write a long sprawling epic where they manage to sever Newt’s link to the precursors but they do it by litreally damaging his brain and he then has to learn to live with not only the brain damage but the reality of what he did while they influenced him. I want, really, him to be saved but completely broken and Hermann to take him away to some cottage in the middle of nowhere and them slowly grow together as Newt heals and learns to live with his brain how it is now and they learn to love each other and in the end it’s all happy supportive boyfriends and Newt still wakes up some nights convinced the precursors still have him but he turns over and Hermann’s there sleeping next to him and he cuddles closer and trusts in this happiness that he has now. Someone just fix my broken science boy!

#pacific rim 2 #spoilers #pacific rim spoilers #pacific rim 2 spoilers #newmann

[count-di-luna]

Should you fight this opera character?

Don Giovanni: I mean, he deserves it. But you gon die.

Donna Anna: do not fight Donna Anna. She will END YOU.

Sarastro: yes. fight him, the sexist asshole. Don’t let his “kindly old bass” act decieve you. He’s also racist. Punch him.

Figaro: don’t even try. He will win anyway and everyone will laugh at you.

Wilhelm Tell: do not fight Wilhelm Tell. Dude’s the best dps archer in the WORLD. You won’t have time to get close.

Lucia di Lammermoor: why would you want to fight Lucia. Hasn’t she been through enough.

Lord Ashton: absolutely fight Lord Ashton. Kick his arse.

Norma: no. Avoid.

The Prince of Mantua: oh, yes, fight him. He’s a total dick. Beat him to pulp.

Manrico: I mean, you could try. He’s an excellent duelist though.

Count di Luna: fight him. He likes fighting and he’s kind of a dick.

Violetta Valery: Why do you want to fight Violetta

Alfredo Germont: absolutely fight Alfredo. He’s a jerk and probably can’t fight anyway. 

Gustavo: why’d you want to fight Gustavo. He’s one of the few tenors who isn’t a dick.

Don Carlo di Vargas: doesn’t matter whether you want to fight him, you WILL fight him. Or engage in extremely homoerotic duets.

Paolo Albiani: please do the world a favour and fight this slimy, treacherous little cunt.

Don Carlo (of Spain): don’t bother. He’ll probably start crying.

Radames: no. He’s an experienced warrior. He’ll beat you.

Otello: NO. He’s led armies and he can probably end you by just singing a powerful high note.

Falstaff: I mean, you could, but what for? He’s no challenge. He’s overweight, old and constantly drunk.

Lohengrin: do you have a death wish 

Tristan: frankly he’ll probably just let you kill him. He’s no fun.

Wotan: absolutely fight Wotan. You may die but he deserves to be punched.

Fricka: definitely fight Fricka. She ruined everything.

Siegfried: only if you can catch him off guard, otherwise you will be very dead (Hagen. Stop sneaking around.)

Brünnhilde: do not. she will have you for breakfast. she’s a badass warrior goddess.

Parsifal: nah. he has plot armour. plus Kundry will kick your arse.

Rodolfo: he’s a wimp but fight him anyway. He deserves it.

Mimi: WHY DO YOU WANT TO FIGHT MIMI 

Tosca: do you want to die or what?

Scarpia: oh yes. Please fight Scarpia. He’s surprisingly easy to defeat.

Butterfly: first of all why do you want to fight her. Second, she may look like a cinnamon roll but she can definitely kick your arse.

Pinkerton: fight him. Kick him directly into the sun. Fuck Pinkerton.

Minnie: do not fight Minnie she’s a tough girl and has a gun 

Calaf: absolutely fight Calaf. kick his arse.

Liu: WHY DO YOU WANT TO FIGHT LIU. Besides, she has an old, blind, seemingly frail friend. Remember Rule One.

Don José: I mean, you could. He probably deserves it. But he can be dangerous if pushed. Proceed with caution.

Turiddu: please fight Turiddu. He’s a major dick. Also, he sucks at fighting.

Canio: better not, he’s unstable and has a knife

Peter Grimes: you could easily beat him but then you have to put up with his extreme emoness for the duration of the fight.

Billy Budd: NO. He may look like a cinnamon roll but he’s a god tier fighter.

Wozzeck: leave him alone. His life already sucks bad enough.

Lulu: just stay away from Lulu altogether, she’s bad news.

Bluebeard: absolutely fight Bluebeard, he’s a shady motherfucker.

Onegin: don’t. He’s a stone cold bastard who killed his best friend.

Hermann: please fight Hermann. Punch him for poor Liza.

Boris Godunov: I mean, you could. But he’s already half dead from guilt so he’s not worth the effort.

Grigory / Fake Dmitri: please fight him. He’s a little shit.

Jenufa: why’d you want to fight Jenufa 

Lakmé: leave her alone she’s a sweetheart

Faust: do not fight Faust. He’s got a demon sidekick. You will die.

Cardinal Brogni: please fight Cardinal Brogni and kick his arse.

#opera #should you fight

[demonsonthemoon]

Veni, Vedi - Chapter 2

Fandom: Pacific Rim Pairings: Eventual Newt/Hermann/Vanessa Word Count: 5075 Summary: Everything changed after they collapsed the Breach. Newt lost the thing he had dedicated his life to. Hermann lost all of his certainties, and gained a family. Vanessa found something to hope for again. And, somehow, all of their lives got tangled together.

Also available on AO3.

Newt

He knew where he was, but the scanner still felt too small and too dark. Newt was sweating, and the smell reminded him of hundreds of bodies pressed close to him as they listened to the sounds of destruction just above their heads. As they waited for the verdict on whether they would live or die. The vibrations of the scanner added to the illusion, resembling a little too much for comfort the tremors caused by giant footsteps.

Still. Newt knew where he was. He could deal with it. He was a rockstar. He had survived drifting with a kaiju. He wasn't going to be scared by something as silly as a CT scan.

He started looking for songs he knew by heart, singing them in his head and adapting his breathing to their rhythm.

In the time it took for the scan to be completed, he had gone through a few pop songs, the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody and some of the old rock classics his uncle used to listen to. He had also realized he still remembered some of the German punk numbers he had held onto as a token of home during his time at MIT, and that he could still sing one of the Code Geass openings, despite having never learned to speak Japanese. He had always meant to get to it someday, had even seriously considered it between his fourth and fifth doctorates. But languages were hard. Like, stupidly hard, for some reason. And he was still bilingual, so that should count for something, even if his German had become saddeningly limited.

Singing helped to distract him, for a while. But he still wanted to move. He needed to move like he needed to breathe. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that it would only make things worse because he would be forced to re-do the scan from the start. But rationality didn't stop all of his instincts from thinking that he needed to get out, claw his way out and into the open, where he could see threats coming and defend himself

“Nope. Not doing this, buddy,” Newt told himself, unable to think of another song he knew the words to. “You're not a predator. You're a tiny human with terrible eyesight and the muscles of a six-year old. So you're going to be a good boy and lie in this tube without moving a finger, and you're going to be fine.”

This scan was stupid anyway. There was almost no chance that their neurological readings would have gotten back to baseline in just a night, but there was also no chance that anybody in the Shatterdome would be able to analyse the results. They had nothing to compare them to, because nobody had drifted with a freaking hivemind before.

Sure, people could make theories. But you would need a genius to be able to come even close to the truth. A genius who knew the way the drift system worked like the back of her hand.

They would need a genius like Caitlin Lightcap, the woman who had first made the drift work. They needed Caitlin Lightcap, but Lightcap was dead, because humanity couldn't have nice things.

Hermann and Newt himself were probably the next best things but... Newt wasn't sure he was up to the task, if he was quite honest. The kaiju might be gone, the War might have been won, but Newt wasn't sure he had ever been more scared than now.

He had been the one to set up the PONs system that enabled the threeway, interspecies drift. He knew how bad his own situation could be. Normal systems enabled communication between two similar, compatible consciousnesses and the neutral, blank pseudo-consciousness of the Jaeger. But for his drift with the kaiju, Newt had needed to lower the compatibility threshold and allow for a much heavier flow of data than would have been normally treated. Alien data, which had flooded his and Hermann's brains. How much had their neural pathways needed to adapt to be able to process even a fragment of this data? Would these adaptations be permanent or not?

And what if Hannibal Chau had been right? What if Otachi had really been looking for him through the remnants of their drift connection? Did it mean that he and Hermann could still be connected to the Hive?

Would the connection be able to hold even with the Breach closed? Newt guessed that Hermann might have opinions about that, since he had spent so long studying the Breach's structure. He should ask, sometime. Maybe Hermann would be nice enough to lie and tell him that the probability wasn't high enough to worry about. Ah. It was a nice thought to entertain.

Newt wondered how well Hermann was handling the situation. He didn't seem to realize the mannerisms he had picked up from Newt's side of the drift. Newt wasn't sure if Hermann was aware of how dangerous this could be. If they were being so heavily influenced by each other just from one drift together, the effects of the kaiju could be counted on to be much worse.

Grimly, Newt considered the fact that he had drifted with the kaiju twice.

The soft ping and crackling of the intercome that let him know his scan was over came at just the right moment. Newt genuinely wasn't sure if he would have been able to stay still for much longer.

The machine slowly opened, and he had to blink several times against the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. Once he was handed his glasses, he avoided the gazes of all the medical staff, whispered a quick thank you, and got out of the room as quickly as his wobbly legs would allow.

The medical staff weren't a threat. There was nothing there for him to claw through. He was safe, he was fine and, most importantly, he was human. Yeah. He was rocking this.

Done with his second scan, Newt walked to the mess hall to grab something to eat that wasn't soy milk and stale biscuits. He was hoping to see Hermann there, but either the man wasn't done with his own medical tests, or he had already headed back to his room or the lab. It wouldn't be atypical behaviour.

As he looked around the room, searching with increasing desperation for someone who wasn't there, Newt was hit by a sense of longing so sudden and powerful that he almost dropped his tray. Sitting down at the nearest empty table, he took some time to assess his own feelings.

He was thinking of a woman. A woman in her early twenties, with dark skin and long braided hair. He recognized her as Vanessa, Hermann's wife, although a much younger Vanessa than the woman Newt had met a few years ago. The Vanessa of then had had her hair shaved close, and wore contact lenses instead of the oval glasses Newt could now imagine her with.

This was Hermann's Vanessa. This was Hermann's memory of the Vanessa he had met at university. The sense of longing he had felt was Hermann's own desire to see his wife again.

Newt felt sick. This wasn't something he should have been privy too. This wasn't something Hermann would ever have thought to share. It was one thing to have glimpsed some of the man's memories in the flow of the drift, but another thing entirely to be experiencing Hermann's most private feelings outside of it.

Fuck.

His food was looking a lot less appetizing than it had just a few minutes ago. He toyed with it for a while, lost in thoughts that weren't his. The more he tried not to pry, the more Hermann's memories flooded into his mind.

Twenty minutes and a splitting headache later, Newt shoveled all of his food into his mouth as fast as he could, not caring about how any of it tasted, and put his dirty tray in a dedicated rack.

He was three steps away from the door when a hand on his upper arm stopped him.

“Hey man! We missed you at the party yesterday!”

The voice belonged to Tendo Choi, who was looking exhausted but happy. Newt could sympathize with the first part at least.

“How are you holding up?”

Newt tried to answer and let out a nervous laugh instead. Tendo frowned for a second, so Newt was quick to put on a smile and pretend that nothing had happened. “Me and Hermann got stuck in Medical all night. Supposedly so they could keep an eye on our brain chemistry and make sure we didn't die. I personnally think it was just because the medical staff wanted to hoard more alcohol for themselves. They were in pretty bad shape this morning.”

Tendo relaxed, letting out a laugh of his own. “Well, you're welcome to my quarters tonight if you want. We're having a small-scale repeat of last night with Raleigh and Mako, because they were stuck in the Med Bay too yesterday.”

“I'll... I'll think about it,” Newt said awkwardly. The day before, he would have given anything to go to the party. Right now, he felt shaken. His head was killing him, and he wasn't sure alcohol was advisable in such conditions. “Thanks, man.”

“You're welcome, brother,” Tendo replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Shit, I should be thanking you. You went out on the field during the first attack. Freaking saved the world. That took some guts.”

Newt let out another nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what I was fucking thinking.” He could still smell the sweat that had trickled down his face as Otachi came down on the bunker. He could feel his muscles locked in place by fear as a glowing blue tongue swept through the air, looking for him, it's looking for him, he knows it, he's gonna die, he's gonna die, he's gonna-

And there was another question for him. How many of his symptoms were caused by PTSD instead of by the process of drifting, and how would he ever learn to make the difference between them?

“Still. Saved the world. Not many people reckless enough to do that.”

Tendo's tone was reassuring. It felt like he could see that Newt was building up a façade, and like he guessed at least part of what was hiding behind it. It wouldn't be surprising considering how close Tendo had been to some of the Jaeger pilots. A pilot without trauma was more the exception than the rule.

“I'm a rockstar.” The words came out more self-depricating than confident, but Newt's smile did turn genuine after a second. After all, he truly had done it. He truly had saved the world. Maybe he'd fucked two of this generation's greatest brains in the process, but who had to know that? He was a rockstar. Yeah.

“See you later then, starboy!” Tendo said with a grin, before leaving him to grab his lunch.

Newt started walking again. He wasn't sure exactly of where he was going. Earlier, he had just wanted to be out of the Medical Bay, and it had been time for lunch so that had seemed like a logical option, but now... He knew going into the city would be too high a risk. First because of the damage done to the infrastructures and the risk of Kaiju Blue contamination, and then because it would trigger too many memories of Otachi and Hannibal Chau. Tendo had called him reckless and... Well, yeah. He was. He had drifted with a piece of kaiju brain using a custom system he had built out of old tech he'd had to steal. If “reckful” had been a word, his actions definitely wouldn't have fit the definition. But even if he was reckless, Newt wasn't stupid. He knew that he had his own limits.

He wondered if it wouldn't be better to just go back to his room and get some more rest but... it would feel too empty. Too impersonal. Too much like being alone, which he technically was, but that didn't mean he wanted to feel it.

That only left one option, really.

Entering the lab felt like releasing a breath he'd been holding. It felt like coming home. Which was kind of sad, Newt guessed, but could anyone blame him? This is where he had spent most of his time for the last ten years. Maybe not this lab specifically, but all labs had a similar quality to them.

Newt looked around, at the different vats with floating organs, and at Hermann's dusty blackboard.

There was still work to do.

That, too, felt like coming home. Vanessa

Her phone started ringing, and she slipped across the floor and almost fell in her haste to grab it. It wasn't her proudest moment. But she had been waiting for this.

It wasn't that Vanessa's life revolved around her husband. Quite the opposite. For years, it had revolved around anything and everything but him. Vanessa wasn't going to feel guilty about being so excited to finally talked to the man she loved, not after all the times she had wished he had been there as she aimlessly wandered through her small apartment.

“Hello?” She said as she picked up.

“'Nessa.” Hermann said her name like it was the answer to a riddle. Like it was the exhale after the first puff of a cigarette. He said her name, and just like that Vanessa knew that he missed her just as much as she missed him.

“Hello Hermann.”

She felt tears well up in her eyes. She wondered if she could blame them on a hormone imbalance due to her pregnancy. She was hearing his voice. She was hearing his voice but, unlike all the previous times they had called each other, they had time to talk now. They had time to think. Time to plan. All of time was unfolding before them, because it was over.

So, now that they had the time, instead of rushing through everything they had to say to each other, they took a minute just to listen to each other's breathing. Vanessa closed her eyes. Even though they were hundreds of miles away from each other, the moment felt intimate, precious. They were there, and they were alive.

“It's real, right?” Vanessa asked, breaking the silent. “It's true?”

“Yes. It's over. We won the Kaiju War.”

“Thank you.” Vanessa felt more tears building behind her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold them back for the entirety of this conversation. “Thank you for everything you've done. I... I hated it. I hate you being away. I hated knowing you were in danger. It was so selfish, but I hated it and I... I was so scared that we would lose. That we would all die. I was so scared that we would have lived apart for so long and then just died, on two different continents. But now...” She sat down on her couch and hugged her knees close to her chest with one arm, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder. “Now I'm glad. I'm glad you did all that. Because you saved the world.”

“I didn't do it on my own, 'Nessa. I played but a small part. There were so many other there. So many others who...”

Hermann cut himself off and Vanessa closed her eyes. “I know. I know Hermann. We'll remember them. I will remember them. But not right now.” A first tear slid down her cheek. “Right now I just want to be selfish a little longer. Right now I want to think about all of those who are alive. We'll have time to remember later. But those who... those who sacrificed themselves. They wanted us to have a future. So I think... I think they would agree. We need to learn how to live in that future first.”

Hermann stayed silent for a few seconds on the other side of the world.

“It feels like a prayer that has been answered. We won the Kaiju War and you're gonna have a baby.”

Vanessa laughed. The sound escaped her mouth like a frightened deer.

Hermann had once explained how he could not not believe in a higher power. Too much of the world made sense for there to be no Rule . He did not, however, believe in any kind of god in the most usual sense of the term. He did not believe in prayer or church rituals. He did not believe in personal gods.

Still, Vanessa had a sense that he had his own ways of trying to communicate with the divine. In the way she imagined his own theology, she thought that the Rule, the power and sense of the universe wanted to be understood. Through his work, Hermann was doing his best to make that wish come true.

“I know. I hope so. None of this feels real.”

She was so happy. She could hear so much hope in Hermann's voice. She had needed that reassurance that she had made the right choice.

After all, when she had decided to keep the baby, it had been mostly her own decision. They had talked about having children before, but those conversations had felt like lifetimes ago, like old daydreams, once they had started losing the War. She hadn't been sure, not entirely, that the Hermann of today would still share the same dreams as the Hermann of ten years ago.

Now she knew. Hermann's voice had curled around the word “baby” with awe and with joy, and she knew that the child would be wanted. It wouldn't just be her own selfish dream. It would be theirs.

Silence settled again. Vanessa could think of none of the thousand things she had wanted to say. It was all lost under the weight of so many years of silence and distance.

Finally, she managed to ask a question.

“Are you coming back?”

Hermann sighed, and Vanessa's chest constricted. She had expected this.

“I'm gonna try. But... I'm still under the PPDC's authority. What's left of it. And... there's still work. There's still work to do.”

“There's always work to do, Hermann.” It was a bit of a reproach, but Vanessa hadn't been able to hold herself back.

“I know. Trust me, I know, and I'm gonna try. I miss you so much. But they... I'm needed. There's only two of us in K-Science but there's still so much to do... I can't just leave, not... not right away.”

“I know.” She meant it, even though it hurt. She knew how much his work meant to him. She could never have married him if she hadn't known that. She admired this part of him, even when it broke her heart. And she knew how much this work meant to the world. How important it was.

She wondered what would have happened to her, if she had turned down her first modeling gig, or stopped doing it once she didn't need it to pay for her studies anymore. She wondered what would have happened if she had started working as an engineer, or gone into research. She couldn't imagine herself not being crushed by the pressure of it all.

Not that her job wasn't demanding. It asked for the best of her, always. But science didn't just demand that you do your best. It required that you be right. You could work for years and not succeed, and it wouldn't be your fault. But science would take no pity.

“But soon,” Hermann continued. “As soon as I can, Vanessa, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence.

“Tell me how it happened. I want to know how you saved the world.”

Hermann

Hermann leant back in his chair and looked at the bare metal walls of his Shatterdome room. This had been what he had called home for the last ten years.

What a miracle it was, that he had even survived.

Hearing Vanessa's voice, her curiosity and love, Hermann was truly hit by everything he had missed during all this time. He had been busy enough not to feel too homesick, but thinking of going home, to a real home that was personal, it made him ache with want now. He wanted to become a person again, not just a tool, not just a soldier.

He thought of Newton, then. Maybe this was something Hermann had previously refused to see in the man: that his exuberance and loudness was partly a defense mechanism to stay human, to stay himself. Newton didn't like rules. He needed freedom like he needed air. Hermann knew, now. He knew how much it had hurt, being told how to behave, how to dress, how to talk. Hermann knew, now, how much Newt had hated it, how much of himself he had sacrificed just because he was needed, just because he knew he was the best person for this job and this job needed to be done perfectly.

Now, though. Now they were free. And a reckless part of Hermann was telling him to run. That part might have been Newton, or it might have something Hermann would have liked to blame on Newton. There was no telling and, either way, Hermann thought it didn't really matter now. The person he was today would forever be altered by the thought processes and gestures he had acquired from his colleague during the drift. Purity of selfhood was a myth, and he had other things to put energy into than to keep it alive.

Like this newfound freedom.

Hermann wanted to run, to leave the Shatterdome behind, to leave the dead behind, to flee from all the memories. He wanted to see his wife again and pretend that they were still who they had been ten years ago, that their promises still rang with the same truth.

But he knew he couldn't. He knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Hermann knew what the right thing to do was. He could rationalise his purpose. And that meant he had to stay a while longer.

“Hermann?” Vanessa asked, voice tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

She had asked a question. Yes. Hermann didn't know where to begin.

“I just... a lot... A lot of things happened. I don't know how to tell you all of it.”

“It's okay. You don't have to. If you don't want to.”

But he did want to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything, and for her to understand him like he didn't seem to understand himself anymore.

“You must have learned the big lines of it through the news. A team of Jaeger was sent to drop a nuclear bomb into the Breach and collapse its structure. It was supposed to be a four-Jagers drop, but we lost Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon during the first double event and...”

He told her about Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka. About Hercules Hansen's broken arm, and how Marshal Pentecost had taken his place despite knowing it would cost him his life. He had to backtrack and tell her about Newton's first drift with the piece of kaiju brain. It was awful, re-living this moment in two perspective, his own fear for his colleagues mingling with the primal horror Newt had felt at the scale of his discovery. The feeling of his own body seizing, and Newton's in his arms. He told her as fast as he could, hiding his desperation, hiding his fear of being abandoned, of being left alone again.

Then he told her about Otachi's baby, the need for a second drift, but a safer one. The need for someone able to find and decode the data humanity needed to survive.

He told her, matter-of-factly, how he had agreed to drift with Newton. He didn't tell her how, really, he had been the one asking, begging him to stay alive. He didn't tell her about how surprised he had been at his own behavior. He had never thought he had that kind of courage, not really. He had enough courage to resist things. To stand his ground. Enough courage to face what his peers thought of him and not budge in his principles.

But he wasn't the kind of man who plunged into the unknown.

Except he had.

Part of his thoughts had been full of doubt. What if it doesn't work what if it kills him what if we're not compatible what if it makes things worse what if he sees things he shouldn't what if the world ends anyway what if-

The other part had only been cold certainty. Certainty that Newton would die if he drifted alone. Certainty that his plan would work, if only they had enough information. Certainty that the best person to recognize the right information was him. Certainty that they had to be Drift Compatible. Years of proximity had taught him that.

“What was it like?” Vanessa asked. “Drifting?”

Hermann didn't tell her that the first thing he had glimpsed in the mess of thoughts and emotions had been fear and heartache.

“Like being underwater,” he said instead. “Like being completely submerged under information and knowing that if you release your breath you'll drown. It's not just... You don't just hear thoughts or see memories. I was him. I was the kaiju. I had access to the entirety of a completely different existence as if it had always been my own. I was feeling what they'd been feeling, thinking what they'd been thinking. The kaiju...”

He had to stop to gather his thoughts. Looking into his memories of the drift was like staring into the sun. It was intense enough to be painful.

“They're connected between themselves. The whole species. We didn't just... we didn't just drift with one of them. We were all of them.”

For a second, Hermann was glad Vanessa wasn't in the room. His hand was shaking just thinking about it.

“One human consciousness is already a universe onto itself. It's vast and complex. Kaiju... they might not have dreams, like we do... But they know pain. They know fear. They know rage and hunger. Their lives are painful, and short. And I came to know many of them, all more horrific than the next, in just one instant. I've felt all their lives and their deaths.” He breathed, in and out. “And through them, the precursors.”

“The precursors?”

Of course, Vanessa wouldn't know about them. No one knew about them except him, Newton and Hercules Hansen, now that Marshall Pentecost was dead. Perhaps Raleigh Becket, if he had glimpsed enough of the Anteverse.

“Other... beings. From their world. I can't...” Hermann thought of eyes watching him, judging him, of pain across his body as he was sculpted to please this being, as a consciousness whispered to him and urged him to destroy destroy destroy. “I can't...”

“It's okay,” Vanessa whispered through the phone. Hermann breathed again. “You're okay.”

“We found the information we needed. In the drift. We found out why all of our previous attacks had failed. You need a key for the Breach to let you go down its throat. You need a kaiju's genetic code.”

“Wow. How did you do that?”

“Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka were already engaged by the time we managed to let them know. Striker... Ranger Hansen and Marshal Pentecost sacrificed themselves. They detonated the nuclear bomb that had been meant for the Breach to eliminate the kaiju that had been protecting it. Gypsy Danger's core was nuclear so... Rangers Mori and Becket fought with the last surviving kaiju and dragged it through the Breach so they would be able to cross it as well. Then they detonated their core. They were the only rangers to survive.”

Grieve later, Vanessa had said. But even she seemed shaken.

“You wanted to know.” Hermann felt exhaustion settle into his bones, even though it was only midday.

“I want to go back to Berlin.”

The statement was so surprising in this context that he jolted a little. “What?”

“England is just... I'm glad I got to be with my family through all of this but... This country is too full of ghosts. I think I want to go back to Germany. But not... Only if you want to as well.”

“I hadn't... I hadn't thought about it. But we can try to find a new place while I'm still in Hong Kong. And if we don't... If we don't find anything I guess we could always stay with Karla for a little while.”

His sister Karla lived on the edge of the city, in a house she shared with her girlfriend and another couple. Hermann got on very well with her, and would love to see her again, but he also knew that visiting her meant she would push him to see the rest of their family. Whatever Karla said, and however much Hermann wanted to see his mother again, talking with his father was out of the question. Not when the man had abandoned the Jaeger Programm to support the Wall of Life project. Not when he had followed money on a path that had almost lead to the planet's extinction, and then hadn't even had the decency to apologize for it.

Still, he missed his mother and his siblings. He missed the loudness of family dinners when Dietrich's kids would play with Bastien's daughter. If they were in Berlin, maybe he could arrange something. Meet with them outside of the family house, without his father's knowledge. It wouldn't be so bad.

“I'll start looking,” Vanessa said, knowing all too well how complicated his family situation was. “I'll send you what I find.”

“I love you, Vanessa.”

She laughed at that, maybe startled at the suddenness of it. Hermann usually wasn't one for big declarations.

“I love you too.”

They hung up soon after. Hermann noticed he had unconsciously started drumming his fingers against his desk and forced himself to stop.

#Pacific Rim #Meeni writes fics #Fic: Veni Vedi #Newt/Hermann/Vanessa #Newt x Hermann x Vanessa