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missathlete31 · 1 year

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Someone In Your Corner

Summary: Hangman, struggling to deal with his nightmares after the mission, goes for a run in the California heat. When he gets himself into trouble he finds a surprising ally on his side.

Aka if Maverick is MavDad meet DaggerMom

Hey look, yet another Jake Seresin Whump/Angst fic….. also known as the only thing I know how to write lol! Enjoy!

Two week after the Uranium mission and Jake "Hangman" Seresin was struggling. The Navy had given them all a month's worth of leave, a ridiculously long time in Jake's opinion but extremely sought after for all the others. There was a mandatory week of debriefs and discussions, most of which Jake hovered in the back and only answered when he was addressed directly, but then they were free to go. The whole squadron seemed to have gotten plane tickets to head back home, the suicide mission making a lot of them place things in new perspective. Jake of course would rather perform ten suicide missions than even think about going home to Texas. Javy had invited him back to New Orleans with him and his family but Jake declined. He loved the Machados; he spent enough holidays over there to think of them as the closest thing he'd ever get to a real family, but he knew Javy was still shaken up from his G-Loc incident and the mission in general. He deserved a chance to decompress with his loved ones instead of trying to entertain Jake.

So Jake waved his best friend off at the airport on the third day after the start of their official leave and went back to the barracks to find a notice on his door. It seemed that the temporary living quarters they were supplied for training was being revoked now that everything was over. Jake had vaguely heard one of the others talking about it at the bar but he didn't realize it applied to those that weren't going home as well. He assumed he would be allowed to hang around base, maybe convince Admiral Simpson (or at least the more agreeable Admiral Bates) to let him jump into a few hops to keep his skills sharp. Those plans were scrapped though as both Admirals informed him in no uncertain terms that none of the Daggers would be allowed back in the air until they were given the all clear from both medical and psych. Jake was already cleared on the medical end but all psych evals were to be conducted after the team returned from leave. He wanted to push to get his moved up but Cyclone only gave him that un-amused look that he usually reserved for Maverick, and Jake figured it wasn't worth the fight (he was still on shaky ground for disobeying direct orders on the carrier that day- and for getting the rest of the flight crew to go along with him).

So now not only was Jake alone on North Island, he was also forced to find new housing. With no real other options, he checked into a random motel that was far from luxurious with its outdated decor and questionable activities for it's by the hour patrons. Jake found he didn't mind though as long as he used his own sheets. Also besides a few quick visitors a few doors down, Jake was virtually on his own in his section. This was a huge benefit for the blonde pilot as he found himself dealing with an added difficulty now that the mission was over: debilitating nightmares.

It was embarrassing for him to admit but Jake had always struggled with nightmares. As a child in an abusive household he was always so tense and on edge, especially at night after his father had had a couple of drinks in him, that he found his dreams were filled with running away from monsters that looked vaguely like his parents until he woke up screaming. After receiving punishments for waking anyone up with his pathetic cries, Jake learned to muffle his terror to much quieter levels, though the nightmares always held a grip on him for those formable years. As he got older and into his teen years, Jake's real world seemed to be worse than any dream ever could be and sadly that was what quashed his night terrors for a few years at least. When he left home and joined the Navy he felt freer than he ever had in the world and he finally learned what the term 'sleep like a baby' really meant.

It didn't last for long though because after his first confirmed kill, Jake's nightmares came back. He was forever dreaming of being back in his plane, sometimes shooting down the Bogey, other times the Bogey catching him first. He had nightmares where he shot his wingman down instead, his whole squadron condemning him for the action. Other times it would be his squad shot him down because they were protecting themselves from Hangman leaving them like his call-sign dictated. These dreams circled through Jake's sleep cycle for weeks until Javy caught on before he was sent to ship out again and noticed the dark bags under his best friend's eyes. Though Javy knew better than to push Jake towards any sort of professional therapy from the Navy that could ultimately keep him grounded, he did force his best friend to talk to him more about what was troubling him and to find healthy outlets for his anxiety, fear, and guilt. Jake's favorite method became running.

Jake already enjoyed running from when he was a kid and needed an escape at home so using it to relax from work stress as well came fairly easy. He took to jogging around bases in the morning, night or whenever he just felt a little overwhelmed. Javy would join him if he was able, though normally he cut out about half the miles while jokingly calling Jake a robot for being able to run so much. It was therapeutic and it worked, especially when he ran at night, as Jake felt his body become so tired he went off to sleep without any dreams at all.

But then this mission happened.

First it was Coyote's G-loc; the sounds of Maverick trying to stir his best friend back to consciousness before he crashed into a mountain staying with Jake even during waking hours. In dreams it was worse, Maverick never getting tone in time, Coyote's scream over the radio before he burned up in his jet. Jake would wake up each time with tears in his eyes and would struggle to not call his best friend right there and then. Jake also dreamed of the bird strike. Though he pretended to be indifferent, he really did care about Phoenix, she was one of his oldest friends, dating back to his Flight School days. That nightmarish day, after being so close to losing Javy, to then hear her and Bob forced to eject, it broke something in Jake. His dreams featured the two not ejecting in time, or sometimes different pilots were up there but with the same results. The worst nightmare was when Jake was in the air with them and he listened to Phoenix scream at him that because he left them hanging, the birds hit their plane instead of his. Both Bob and Phoenix's last words were wishing it was Jake instead. Maverick would share the sentiment on the radio as the two planes watched the other go down. When Jake woke from that particular dream, he usually felt so gutted all he could do was sit up in silence.

There were moments from the actual mission that attributed to his night terrors as well of course. First it was Dagger one going down, the others blaming Jake for not being good enough that Maverick had to take the spot of team leader to ensure the others survived and therefore sacrificed himself. Then he would hear Dagger Two going down and there was the guilt of having Bradshaw die after all the mean things Jake had said and done to him. But the worst was Jake's rescue of Maverick and Rooster. Jake couldn't count the times he would close his eyes (both awake and asleep) and see the damn missile that was headed right for that old F-14. He never told anyone outside of his debriefs with the Admirals but that missile was shot and deployed and not even seconds away from killing both Captain Mitchell and Bradshaw. He had had no time to spare.

Every night during the week of debriefs Jake would dream of being too late, of watching that missile kill his CO and his wingman in a fiery blaze as bright as the sun. Jake would be forced to call on the radio that he hadn’t reached them in time, would land on the carrier not to celebration and hugs but dirty looks and tears. One night the nightmare was so bad, felt so real, that Jake actually called Rooster just to hear his voice. The groggy other pilot thought it was some kind of joke and didn't respond incredibly kind but Jake hung up the phone with tears of relief in his eyes anyway. He would take a sarcastic Rooster over a dead one any day.

Last night Jake dreamed of the man he shot down. His second confirmed kill but it wasn't any easier. He dreamed of the man's family, his children growing up fatherless like Rooster did. A whole family lineage cursing him for taking away the man they loved most. When he woke up Jake only had a few seconds before he was puking in his toilet, no chance of falling back to sleep again. His count of hours slept in the week at a sickening level. He knew he should be worried, knew that he should address his problems with someone but everyone else was dealing and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t. He wasn’t one of the Daggers, he wasn’t the one completing the suicide course. He didn’t go into G-Loc or get hit with a bird strike. He wasn’t shot down and he wasn’t stuck behind enemy lines and scrambling to get home. Jake was just the spare; sure he had a lucky shot, but he did nothing more. He didn’t deserve to bother anyone with his lack of sleeping. He would get it sorted, just like he always did.

As the day progressed and Jake's lids got heavier he thought about his techniques to combat his nightmares in the past and looked for his running gear. He hoped to kill two birds with one stone, run enough to clear his mind but also to make himself so exhausted he would fall asleep right away. The pilot put on his sneakers and reached for headphones before heading out the door. He knew it was going to be hot but the minute he was outside he felt like a wall of humidity was surrounding him. It wasn't the ideal running conditions but Jake grew up in Texas where heat was a part of everyday life. He threw off his shirt knowing it would be soaked in a second and headed out.

—————————————————————————-

Penny Benjamin wiped another hand across her brow as she turned to another box. She knew she shouldn't have chosen Tuesday to do inventory especially when the weather forecasts all called for the height of the heat wave to hit, yet here she was sweating in the back rooms of the Hard Deck anyway. She wished Maverick was around to help, though he was abnormally chaotic in a tight setting, at least the man could have helped with the lifting. Pete however, had taken Bradley for a 'getting re-acquainted trip' aka a 'get our crap together' trip up in Northern California. Penny was so happy to see the two trying to make things right and she knew it meant the world to Pete.

It did leave her alone though and with all the other pilots of the squadron gone on leave and Amelia visiting her father, Penny hated the quiet. Even doing normal chores around the bar made her ache for the loud and boisterous group she had grown to love. She hoped they were at least all trying to heal like Maverick and Rooster. She wasn't given all the details from the mission but she knew there were a lot of close calls and that for everyone to return was lucky, bordering on miraculous. Penny felt lucky herself every time she got to see Pete's smile again.

As the morning progressed and the heat got too much Penny opted to go over some sales numbers and to save the inventory for later. Grabbing her books, she headed for her usual table outside, the umbrella giving only the most miniscule relief from the heat.

She looked up as she watched a man run on the beach. He looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't until he was a bit closer that Penny realized it was Hangman. She had been surprised this morning when she saw the man arrive at the beach to run. She had assumed Hangman like all the others had gone away for leave. Clearly this wasn’t the case as the pilot putt his ear pods in and started his jog just as she first opened up to do inventory. Penny glanced at her watch and saw it was close to an hour later then since she had first arrived, and yet Hangman was still running. A hint of worry bubbled in her stomach but she learned that Top Gun pilots tended to be work-out fanatics, Hangman no exception.

As the man neared, Penny raised her hand, "Hangman!" she called but she wasn't surprised when the man kept running, no doubt lost in his music and training. She watched him for a minute, not immune to admit that the sight of the muscular shirtless blonde running along the beach wasn't the worst thing she's laid her eyes on. She shook her head at her silliness and turned back to her sales book figuring she would chastise the man for ignoring her later when he came in for some beers tonight.

Thirty minutes later the same figured appeared for the third time since she sat outside and Penny's brow furrowed. She knew Hangman liked to run but this was getting a bit excessive. She was familiar with his two mile loop, she had walked it with Amelia many times herself, but never this many times, nor in this kind of heat. When she included the time she was in the basement, she knew Jake was running much more than was normal or healthy on a day like today. It was nearing noon, the heat for the day was at its worse and she had heard an air quality alert on the news this morning. Jake ran with no water bottle, no shirt and if she had to guess no sunscreen. He just ran, and ran, and ran.

Perhaps it was the mother in her or perhaps it was just the concern for a pilot she had grown to care about over the years, but Penny refused to let Hangman run past again without at least taking a little respite. She stood herself up from the table and headed towards the sand, waving a bit to not startle the runner. As she got closer she noticed Hangman's gait was off, he seemed to be listing to the side with each step. Her concern mounting, Penny hurried forward a little faster, her heart dropping when she noticed Jake had started to stagger. "Hangman you alright?" the barmaid hollered, but instead of a verbal response Jake fell to one knee. "Jake!" Penny called as she watched the blonde collapse complete to the ground. He landed face first in the sand and the older woman felt herself fall next to him, a gentle hand reaching for his shoulder to help roll him over.

The man lying before her looked so far from the Hangman she knew that Penny gasped. Jake's normally lively green eyes were closed, his skin pale and his breath raspy. She gently nudged his face, trying to stir some kind of reaction and felt her heart relax a fraction when Jake gave a low groan and took a wobbling hand to brush hers away.

"Hey Hangman you with me?" she tapped his cheek again, worry increasing when she felt how warm his body was and yet she didn't notice much sweat on his body. Familiar with signs of overheating but in no way a doctor, Penny looked back towards the Hard Deck and hoped to see someone around that could help her. Unfortunately it seemed they were alone. She turned back to the blonde and saw his eyes were still closed though his body seemed to want to move. “Jake honey, can you hear me?” she asked again.

“P-Penny?” Jake murmured and finally those green eyes were open if barely past slits. He seemed to take a good look at the woman leaning over him before all the rest of the color in Hangman’s face disappeared and he rolled over to his side. As he retched out what Penny disgustingly assumed was his breakfast, she tried to run a soothing hand over his back but again she faltered at how hot his body temperature seemed to be. She reached to pull him back to face her carefully, allowing his back to land back in a clean portion of sand before trying to meet his eyes, “Jake, you with me? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah” he didn’t sound convincing, “’ll good.”

“I think you’re overheated, I need to get you inside.”

“No-“ he shook his head weakly, his voice low and gravelly, “-m fine…. Just-… just overdid it a bit. ”

Penny moved to brush back his damp hair from where it was plastered with sand to his forehead, “You really over did it, okay” she tried to give a reassuring smile but her concern was too great and it became more of a grimace, “you need to get out of this sun and get some water in you. You think you can stand?”

It didn’t look like Jake would be moving any time soon but when Penny gave him a small pull the pilot managed to follow the momentum enough to get himself standing. It wasn’t pretty and Hangman looked ready to puke again at least three different times, but he held it in and allowed Penny to throw his arm around her shoulders. The two took a moment to gain their balance before they started with small and slow steps all the way back to the Hard Deck.

The walk was long and tedious. With each step that they got closer Jake’s movements got sloppier and the weight Penny had to support seemed to double. When she finally got him inside, Penny deposited Jake to the nearest booth and ran for a cold water bottle and some towels. She ran them under the coldest water she could get and started to place them over Jake’s chest, his neck and his forehead. The man didn’t even flinch. “Keep those there” Penny ordered as she moved to grab more water bottles, “and take small sips of water.”

Jake tried to follow orders but when he moved his hands to open the bottle, they were shaking so bad he dropped it. He went to get his body to pick it up but instead he slid down to the floor, his back against the table’s leg. Penny heard the commotion and came running, finding the pilot out of it and on the floor of her bar. “Jesus Jake, I think we need to get you to the hospital” she told him, “This is way worse than over heating-“

“No” Jake shook his head, his eyes unfocused, “’m –ok-“

“Honey” she got him standing again, “no you’re not. Hang on, take a seat for a minute and let me get my keys. I have to lock up the basement and then I will take you.” She led him back towards the booths but didn’t wait for him to sit, instead running to her bag and car keys.

Meanwhile the blonde had teetered after her, following towards the bar and knocking over a stool followed by another, "shit” he cursed, “’m sorry. Y-you can just call m’ an uber" Jake slurred softly, now leaning heavily against the bar, “’t’s no bother.”

"Absolutely not, and I said to sit Jake" she ordered, manhandling him towards the booths, "sit before you collapse again."

"'M -fine-"

"No you're really not." Her eyes must have shown her anger and concern because Jake seemed to melt into the cushion of the seats. Penny gave a nod and then ran to lock up her basement door and lock the inventory room. When she got back to the bar she noticed Jake’s head was leaning down on the table. “Hangman?” she questioned, but the man didn’t stir, “Jake?” When she still got no answer, she hurried over and took one of the water bottles, emptying it over the man’s head in a frantic shake, “Lieutenant Seresin!” she yelled and was luckily awarded with a dazed Jake shaking his wet hair out in confusion. “-enny?” he murmured sleepily, “did it rain?”

“Something like that” Penny lied, moving to grab the man out of the booth once more and get him towards the exit, “now come on honey, we’re going to the hospital.”

“-Don’’ feel so g-good.”

“I know, but we’re going to get you all fixed up” she promised silently praying that she could deliver on such a statement. If she was honest with herself Jake’s condition was really starting to frighten her. He collapsed three times already, he threw up on the beach and his body temperature was frightening high. She had tried cold compresses but they didn’t seem to make a difference. He was incoherent and confused; his body a shaky and unstable mess when he was normally frighteningly in control.

They got to Penny’s car quickly; fortunately she parked in the closet spot this morning. She helped lay Jake out along the back seat, sparing a second to take a hand to his forehead where she still felt the heat radiating off his skin. She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything, instead starting her car and cranking the A/C, hoping that it would help cool the pilot down.

For the first few minutes of the ride, Jake stayed silent and if it weren’t for Penny looking towards him in the rear view mirror every few seconds she would have thought he was unconscious or worse. Instead she watched as the man took shallow wheezy breaths, praying they get to the hospital quickly so he could get real help.

After a few more minutes of silence, Penny heard what sounded like a throat clearing in the back seat. Jake’s voice sounded fractured when he finally spoke up, "'why-you helpin' me?" he whispered from the back, 'm a bad person. A bad person with no one left.”

"No you're not honey" Penny immediately argued back, watching as Hangman’s eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, "you're a good person. I know that and so do the others."

"Asshole to them.... always a jerk..."

"I think they've started to see all that for what it is.” And she really believed that. The Hangman that strutted around the Hard Deck all these years was a show, meant for entertainment and for keeping people at arm’s length. Penny, no stranger at pushing people away herself, could recognize the signs easily though she knew it took the others a while to see. “You earned your teammates’ trust” she continued with what she hoped sounded reassuring. Jake didn’t seem to react to the words though, so Penny tried to push a bit more remembering what Maverick had told her the night he returned after the boat docked, about how Jake had saved his life, “you showed them the true Jake Seresin during the mission. They see it now.”

“They all left, ‘m alone again.”

“You’re not alone sweetheart”

“I should be, ‘ve killed people” Jake announced next and in the driver’s seat Penny stilled. It’s not that she doesn’t know this fact, she’s heard Hangman address it before but hearing Jake speak the words so matter of factly while he himself was so broken, exhausted and barely conscious, Penny’s heart clenched. “You were just doing your job, Jake, it’s different.”

“No” he shook his head minutely, “’t’s not.” He sniffed back what sounded like a sob, “can’t sleep, just see it again and again… All my mistakes... all the early graves… all my fault.”

“Nothing was your fault Jake, you saved lives that day. You saved Maverick and Rooster-“

“see them die every night…. ‘m pathetic-“

“No you’re not, you’re so brave honey” she felt a tear fall down her cheek as Jake let out another raspy sob, “so, so brave.”

“’ can’t even sleep anymore” Jake moaned, “just wanna sleep-“

“We can get you help for that” she urged, “there are people that can help-“

“No one can ‘elp me” his head lulled to the side, “I…can’t be fixed.”

There was so much Penny wished to say, so much she wished to correct but before she got the chance she was pulling into the emergency driveway entrance of the hospital and screeching her brakes to a halt behind an empty ambulance. “Please!” Penny hollered from her window at the two paramedics heading out the exit doors. Both stopped and looked her way, “please I need help” she urged to them.

The two women hurried forward, following Penny’s directions to the back seat, “he’s in rough shape, can you help me get him inside?”

“I’ll get the backboard and gurney” the younger of the medics announced, running back to her rig. When she returned the three women were able to lift Jake up and onto it, the two medical professionals beginning to wheel him inside, Penny hot on their heels.

“Ma’am you can’t leave your car here” the security guard tried but Penny ignored it and just continued to follow the gurney wheeling Hangman further into the hospital. Getting a ticket was the least of her worries, even getting towed. All she cared about was making sure the blonde pilot in that bed got the care he needed.

She followed them through into the emergency room where Jake was taken into a corner make-shift room with curtains closing it off. A nurse started asking Penny questions about Jake’s age, medical history, and if he had any allergies. She tried to answer to the best of her abilities but the truth was she didn’t really know. Jake Seresin had been coming to the bar for years but Penny couldn’t even tell the hospital if he was allergic to peanuts yet alone any medication he was on; she just never bothered to get to know him that well. She vowed if they got through this debacle, she would find out, resolved to pester Jake with so many questions he would have no choice but to tell her everything. She looked forward to it with a spark of hope.

Suddenly an older man came forward from the other side of the curtain, ripping it open with an intern on his heels, “What do we have?” he asked, not looking away from his patient on the bed.

“32 year old white male, fading in and out of consciousness, feels excessively warm to the touch-“

The doctor sighed and put on his glasses, his thinning hair reflecting the light as he knelt down on his work stool, and started to lightly examine Jake’s face and chest, “what’s his name?”

When no one else replied Penny realized the question was addressed to her. She swallowed her nerves, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin” she told him.

“Navy?”

“A Navy pilot, yes.”

“Why did you bring him here, shouldn’t he be on base?”

Penny shrugged, realizing she never even thought about taking Jake back to North Island, her mind just drove them to the first hospital she could think of, “this was closer” she explained instead.

The doctor hummed but continued his examination, “okay Lieutenant can you hear me?” when the blonde gave no response, the doctor turned to one of the nurses, “get me a temperature reading now” he ordered.

“Right away Doctor” and the nurse hurried to get the thermometer.

“What happened to him?” the ER doctor asked, shining a pen light as he used a hand to hold open Jake’s eye lid.

“He collapsed on the beach,” Penny supplied dutifully, still watching with what felt like a heavy weight on her chest, “he had been running and I think he might have over heated-“

“In this heat, I’m not surprised. Order a toxicology report, I don’t like his pupil dilation.”

Penny felt her temper flare, “He wasn’t drinking” she shot back, “he’s exhausted.”

“Let’s take the family out of the room-“ the doctor also added, rolling his eyes to his staff. As a nurse went to remove her, Penny listened as another rattled off Jake’s temperature. The minute his nurse was done saying 105 degrees, the ER doctor began sprouting commands, his voice a lot more concerned and worried than it were not two minutes ago. Penny knew 105 was dangerous, even deadly, but seeing doctors and nurses run in frantically made the woman more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. A curtain was pulled and her view was gone, and Penny felt her heart stutter as she wondered if that was to be the last time she would ever see Jake again. What if he died? What if she was too late getting him help, waited too long in the bar locking up a damn inventory closet when she should have been calling an ambulance and getting the poor man help. Her legs buckled for a moment but the nurse at her side kept a strong hand on her arm that kept her standing. “Here we go” the nurse told her steering her to the nurses’ station, “Fran” she called and one nurse was replaced with a different one as Penny was handed off once more.

“Okay” the nurse named Fran began, an iPad in her hand and glasses on her kind face, “let’s begin. Patient’s name was what again?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

“Age?”

“32.”

“Occupation?”

“Naval Pilot.”

She typed faster, then opened her mouth to ask more but Penny beat her too it, "please" she begged, "is he going to be alright?"

Fran seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, his brown eyes boring into Penny over her glasses, “What is your relation to him again?" she questioned.

Penny stuttered for a moment, but then found her confidence, "I'm- I'm his aunt” she declared daring someone to disagree. The nurse didn’t argue, just typed something on her iPad, “and your name?”

“Penny Benjamin.”

Fran nodded and motioned towards the waiting room, “okay Ms. Benjamin, take a seat and I’ll send a doctor to talk once he finishes his evaluations.”

"But can’t I go back in?“

“You’ve done everything you could for the Lieutenant; now leave it to the doctors.” Fran placed a comforting hand to her arm and squeezed gently, “your nephew is in good hands.”

“What if I didn’t do enough, I tried to put cold compresses, and the water, but he could even grip it properly and I never made him drink-“

“Shhh” the kind woman placated her, “I’ll let the doctors know. I’m sure they will put him on fluids right away, you just sit here.”

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll be back later.”

Penny watched her go, falling into the hard waiting room chair and taking her head into her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration and worry, but she knew that wouldn’t help Jake. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

A hand on her arm a few minutes later made her jump. She looked up; expecting a doctor or nurse but finding herself staring at the same security guard she had run past before. The man looked sheepish, clearly feeling guilty for startling her. Penny pulled her fingers through her long brown hair to try to look even a semblance of normal but the security guard didn’t seem to judge. “Ma’am” he began, “I’m sorry to bug you but I really need you to move your car, we got ambulances that need to unload in those spaces and you’re blocking them.”

She looked back at him, her face reddening in mortification; she had completely forgotten about the car she had left parked in the emergency entrance. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I was so panicked before-“

He shook off her apology, “believe me I’ve seen it a million times before. Just move it now and we can both pretend it didn’t happen. I know you got more important things to worry about.” He offered a hand to help her standing and Penny took it gratefully, rising from the chair and heading to the automatic doors leading outside.

Penny moved her car like directed and then took back her seat in the waiting room. She noticed others sitting around, none paying her much attention, everyone lost in their own worlds of worry and fear.

This was why she hated hospitals, especially waiting rooms. It was a place where time simultaneously stood still and yet rushed by. People waited in agony over people in actually agony. Some people were here for last goodbyes while others welcomed new lives into the world. It was a place of overstimulation and over emotion and yet Penny couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else at the moment. She would wait here as long as it took until she knew Jake would be okay.

About an hour later, a tall man approached the nurse’s station and Penny watched as he was directed to her. "Ms Benjamin?" the dark haired doctor called dressed in scrubs, "my name is Doctor Rask,” he held out a hand for Penny to shake, her grip lacking from her fear, “I’m your nephew's doctor” he told her soothingly.

"Hi" Penny breathed out, trying to control her nerves, "how's Jake?" she asked after no preamble.

If he thought she was rude the doctor didn't comment, instead he went right into Jake's diagnosis. "Lieutenant Seresin has a severe case of hyperthermia, more specifically heat stroke. His body temperature was 105 when you brought him in and that was with the cooling methods you tried to do prior. With a body temp that high our biggest concern is always going to be organ failure."

Penny clutched her hands into fists; the feeling of her nails in her palms the only thing keeping her together. She focused on the slight pain as she struggled to find her voice, "did he-... is his organs... are they okay?"

"He is extremely lucky” the doctor explained, “We don't see any evidence of organ failure but we will monitor him closely for the next few hours to be sure."

"That's- that's good news."

Dr. Rask spared her a comforting look, "it is, especially with how overheated he was but he's not out of the woods yet. Lieutenant Seresin was also severely dehydrated and extremely exhausted. His fine motor skills were so impaired upon admission that the ER doctor ordered a toxicology report because he was convinced Lieutenant Seresin must have been drunk. He wasn't of course but the Lieutenant admitted to being unable to supply the last time he had a full night's sleep."

Penny sighed, "he just got back from a serious mission Doctor Rask, it affective him deeply-"

"I understand," the doctor cut in gently, "and believe me I'm sympathetic but I suggest he find someone to talk to about this. He is beyond normal exhaustion levels which is extremely dangerous, not only in his profession but in all matters of his life."

"I agree. I plan on reaching out to his CO to discuss this as well."

The doctor softened, "we can also recommend people for him to talk to if he didn't want to go through the Navy. My father served and I know firsthand how people can be hesitant to show weakness to their superiors. It’s dangerous and they end up denying themselves the opportunity to get proper help."

"Thank you, I worry about that as well but I can promise you I will personally make sure Jake gets the help he needs, even if I have to drag him myself."

"He's lucky to have you" Doctor Rask shared with a smile.

Penny shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor, “I don't know about that” she admitted softly.

"I do” the doctor told her kindly, “You saved his life getting him in here so quickly."

"So he will be okay?"

"Well like I said before his organs look undamaged which is the best news for his case. He is still on cooling pads right now as we try to lower his temperature safely. We also have him on multiple IVs to increase his fluids and nutrients."

It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay but Penny took the doctor’s calm attitude as a good sign. Still she would only feel better once she could see Jake with her own eyes, "Is he awake?" she asked ready to run to his room if she found out he was.

Doctor Rask shook his head, "we gave him a small sedative which I would normally be against but Lieutenant Seresin was very restless in the room from the over exhaustion. I feared he would tax himself further. It should wear off in a few hours but he will be exceptionally groggy. Do to the severity of the heat stroke and the strain on his body; I want to keep him overnight for observations."

"Can I see him?"

"I would prefer not if I'm honest” he managed a sympathetic look when he noticed her face fall. “It's important for him to stay resting. In his heightened state and with the weak sedation, any disruption could cause him to wake before he's ready and that's the last thing he needs. Rest is his best medication at this point."

"I understand" and she did, no matter how much it broke her heart to think of Jake waking up alone in the hospital.

"If you leave your info with the nurse, I'll call you personally when he wakes, or any other member of his family."

He doesn't think he has any family, Penny's mind automatically corrected but she didn't bother saying it out loud. Besides, she learned many years ago that family went far beyond blood no matter what the medical world said. "Thank you Doctor, for everything."

"My pleasure and make sure Lieutenant Seresin thanks you as well. Like I said before, you saved your nephew's life today Ms. Benjamin, a few more minutes out there and we would be having a very different conversation."

She shuddered but gave her thanks anyway before turning back to her waiting room seat. She knew she had hours to kill before Jake would be up and she could see him so Penny took out her phone and scrolled to Pete’s name. She knew she needed to call the man, knew that the minute he heard something was wrong with one of his pilots he would want to be informed and be there. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was overstepping until she remember Jake’s sad words in the car. This was a man who thought he was alone in the world and even worse, he thought he deserved to be alone in the world. He thought of himself as a killer for doing his job and pathetic for not being to handle his emotions and his PTSD properly. His hyperthermia would be treated but Penny knew that Jake Seresin had a much longer road to recovery once he was discharged from the hospital. Penny knew that she, Maverick, Rooster and the rest of the Daggers would be there for him every step of the way. They were a family now and that’s what family does.

Her mind made up, Penny hit the call button and brought the phone up to her ear, ready to call on the reinforcements.

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zahri-melitor · 7 months

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My comments on the Extended Generational Sorting Algorithm:

Gosh there are some murky in-betweens here.

G-1 – JSA and teams like the All-Star Squadron and the Blackhawks. The WWII edition. This is occasionally merged with G0 as timelines shift, but includes Hippolyta, Ted Knight, Sandra Knight (as Phantom Lady), Alan Scott, Jay Garrick, etc. A lot of this cohort have aging issues and several have grandkids in G1 or G1.5. Zinda simultaneously belongs to this group and G1.5.

G0 – JSA, the gap between WWII and the first JLA. This is the younger JSA cohort who aren’t so tied to WWII and the gap after. Dinah Drake. Ted Grant. Johnny Quick. Giovanni Zatara. Walter Chase (the Acro-Bat). Bruce’s parents. The Kents. Jim Gordon. Etc.

G1 – JLA land! Bruce, Clark, Diana, Ollie, Barry, Hal, Arthur, etc. You know them. Your idea of a headlining JLA includes these folk.

G1.5 – Birds of Prey and JLI zone. Characters too old to be Titans cohort but younger/clearly different than the G1 headliners. Barbara Gordon and Dinah Lance are the stalwarts of this group, plus I’ll add Helena Bertinelli, Cameron Chase, Kate Spencer, Kendra, etc. I guess I’d probably put Harley Quinn, agewise, here too. Also would add Beatriz, Tora, Booster, Ted Kord, etc. Guy and Zatanna sort of bounce between here and G1 depending on storyline.

G2 – it’s the Titans! Dick, Donna, Wally, Roy, Garth, Victor, Gar, Kory, Raven etc. Their agebounds are probably Roy as the oldest and Gar as the youngest, though Gar’s given to them as a courtesy – he’s realistically a member of G2.5, he just hangs with G2. We also add Kyle and Connor and Jesse Quick etc to this cohort despite them not being core Titans given their strong connections to particularly Donna and Wally.

G2.5 – The JL Taskforce kids and Jason’s non-existent team. Ray Palmer’s Teen Titans. This is a group of individuals that has never properly coalesced. Overlaps in age with both the bottom of G2 and the top of G3 but distinctly don’t belong to either. Jason, Ray, Grant, Argent, Cynthia, Eddie, Snapper Carr, plus Danny Chase and arguably Gar all fall into this group. Rose Wilson overlaps with G3 but vibeswise probably also belongs to this group. I am tossing up whether Anissa and Jennifer Pierce belong here or in G2.

G3 – Young Justice. Tim, Kon, Cassie, Bart, Cissie, Greta, Anita. Cass Cain belongs here despite being the same age as several G2.5s. Steph, Charlie, Black Alice, Jaime, Zachary Zatara, even a handful of the newer folk like Jinny Hex slot in here. Several Supergirls including current Kara, Courtney Whitmore IS a member of this group and the three oldest Marvel kids (Billy, Mary and Freddy) are currently aged into this.

G4 – Damian’s Teen Titans. Damian, Jon Kent (yes even still with the age up), Emiko Queen, Ace West etc. If they are still a teen right now in DC storytelling or SHOULD be a teen, they belong here (if they’re a teen and SHOULDN’T be they’re probably a G3/G5). The Gotham Academy kids. Arguably the Titan Academy kids too? Agewise the DEO Titans kids but spiritually probably not (also the chances of us ever seeing them again is…low) The younger Marvel kids (Eugene, Pedro and Darla especially) are with this group.

G5 – so this group are either alternate G3 or G3.5s. Too new and too un-networked with G3 to be absorbed. Jace Fox, Yara Flor, Jackson Hyde, Duke Thomas and the We Are Robin cohort all belong here. Kong Kenan, Avery Ho, etc also are members.

G6 – Titans Offspring Gen. Almost everyone in this group has been artificially aged, which is a thing, hey. Lian, Irey, Jai, Cerdian, Robbie. Maxine, obviously. Otho and Osul-Ra.

G7 – Help I’m From Earth-One: Power Girl and Helena Wayne.

G8 – The Lost Children – also Help I’m From Earth-One in a lot of respects but they’re in their teens, not adults. May get folded into other groups if they get more use.

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drawnaghht · 7 months

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Neo Edo magnetic "holsters"

so today/yesterday I started thinking....

what a cool detail the magnetic "holsters" - knobs and stripes are. A very unique design idea for the setting they went with (basically energy-punk or a kind of close-futuristic sci-fantasy)

for example, Gen has large magnet strips on his back, but also on the front of his vest?

The back strips are bigger, while the front strips I'm not entirely sure about, but they are slightly smaller and thinner, so it could be that they are something else, like pockets.

Chizu's appears to have dual magnetic strips on both her pants, her jacket lapels at the bottom, as well as a bigger/stronger magnet triangle on her back, assuming for her polearm, then later for her bow. The strips on her pants could also be just re-enforcing

The other Neko Ninja also appear to have magnets on their armor's backs and hip-pieces. (more longer images under cut)

Kitsune does not appear to have any magnets on her body? but she has a belt which she has a small pouch on and her belt goes around enough times that it could be easy to store her first set of tessen on her back.

Usagi's are small magnets on his obi, both the yoyo and sword have space to fit, one on either side. The sword is always on the left side, so that Usagi can draw it fast enough with his right hand without hurting himself by accident (at least, according to how sword-carrying became tradition during the Edo-era, the show is fairly consistent about this way the swords are carried)

From the first episode with Usagi, we see that the magnets appear to be strong enough that they lock onto the metal of the weapon long enough that the user can remove their fingers from holding the weapon.

and with the yoyo:

Overall, it's a super-interesting feature in the city! Other characters also have these magnets on their outfits/armor - you can pause any shot and see that characters have something magnetic/metallic on their body, with (I think) the exception of Karasu-Tengu and auntie, and the regular citizens of Neo Edo. So here for example the Keisatsu and Lord Kogane.

Most notably, one of the keisatsu guarding Usagi in ep 102, a set of keys dangles from it and we later find out it's this keisatsu's apartment keys haha.

Usagi waits and holds to test the magnet on his left side when he is holstering his auntie's sword, and we see that the effect is quite strong. But then in ep 2, he just slaps the yoyo onto his other side un-ceremoniously, even though this one is directly given to him by a magic stone haha xD You'll notice how Usagi's magnets have some sort of inset inlay, and a glowing symbol inside it which appears to be his clan emblem. Perhaps this means that his obi, or the magnet inlays were once commissioned for one of his ancestors? Since auntie does not appear to wear one of these, maybe it was a direct heirloom to Usagi from one of his parents? Or maybe it was something specially made for when Usagi was a bit older? Could even be that Auntie had it made for one of Usagi's birthdays (good source of a fanfic plot hehe). The magnets are also shown to always glow purple, like the Ki-Stone, and so is Usagi's yoyo itself, when activating any of its abilities, but in this case, the lines on the two sides of the yoyo glow just like the inset on Usagi's weapon-holster magnets.

For other fighter groups in the series, the Mogura crew don't seem to use any visible(?) weapons, while the Bat Squadron have switchblades on the top of their wings/fingers(?), while on their backs they have parachute backpacks. The Neko Ninja appear to have no visible magnets, but possibly their entire armor has hidden magnets within? just a theory for now.

Now, while Usagi's obi and its magnets seem to be custom, could the rest of Usagi's outfit be too? possibly. It seems to be a very specifc combination of both samurai, ninja and farmer outfits, as well as practical application of what samurai used to travel lighter while staying protected. First of all, his vest is a kind of deep blue which according to some historic records, is hemophilic? meaning, it can hold in blood if the wearer is struck suddenly, and according to older beliefs, it even had some healing properties. The vest is tied together by the obi, and the shoulder-gaps/edges appear to have either wooden or leather guards attached to the vest, enforced by these peculiar rectangular (i've seen this kind of work before in woodwork workshops but cannot remember the exact name) Under this vest, he appears to have a light leather or wood breastplate for protectin and under this in turn, he has a dark blue/black undershirt. His pants appear to be in two parts. The first part being the dark blue pants he wears, and the second a patterned "pants cover" which attaches to his chest guard or armor under the vest via light blue clasps. [edit: 10.10.2023:] Still looking around for the basis of this, but this appears similar to some pants I've seen irl. This cover and the pants both seem to be either tucked into or covered by the leg guards Usagi wears. [end edit] Whatever 3rd undergarment he has connects with the blue sleeves he has, which are tied with strings similar to his auntie's sleeves, but these strings are only drawn and animated in the 2D sequences (for the sake of simpler animation, it seems, since Usagi appears in so many scenes and has many moving parts) Then he has dark blue arm guards and kneeguards, while the boot part of his shoes seem to be some harder leather or other material. Usagi, because of wanting to follow in the steps of his samurai ancestor, does not have any other magnetic holsters on his body.

Chizu and Gen also seem to have customized magnets, but of a different appearance. First of all obviously, their shape is rectangular longer or shorter strips, without inlays or emblems, and Chizu has her back-triangle magnet.

I've sometimes also wondered if Gen's emblem is also a magnet, tho this is less likely... The rest of his outfit is fashioned to protect his body enough to also be mobile. So his back magnet-strips are way larger and fit nicely there, enough for his kanabo to attach comfortably to it without falling off. He has a lighter and thinner looking metal plate over his chest, which is obviously armor with a dipping neckline which is colored a golden/bronze? while the bottom part is a deep indigo, covered with studs. Traditionally what these kinds of studs do, is that if someone hits you in the stomach area (one of the most vulnerable areas in an armed fight), the metal studs set in the plate should deflect metal weapon blows to the stomach. so that's interesting to see, Gen's outfit is very practical and he is obviously a bounty hunter who has been doing the job for a while, evidenced also by Gen's healed-over facial scars. A purple vest with a higher collar covers this armor partly. The vest is patterned with these outlined hexagons which have a smaller hexagon inside them. The sleeves of this vest are puffed up(?) and either tied to his arms or it's a rubber band inside the fabric of the light magenta strip of his sleeve. I cannot see that he has any magnets on his belt, which is otherwise tied around the latter-bottom part of his armor and pants. The armor near the belt and on the stomach bends upwards in a semi-trapeze shape toward the dipping neckline of the upper part of his armor. His shoulder pads, kneepads and armguards appear to be enforced leather. I can't remember the exact term for this, but you see that the shoulder parts have stronger leather strings going through the inner parts, possibly to strengthen the rest of the pads. His warclubs sit comfortably on his back on the larger magnet strips.

Chizu's outfit is obviously made for blending in as a civilian, while retaining mobility and flexibility as a ninja, so it's not metal/hard armor like the other Neko Ninja - but instead seems to be wooden/light armor made to look like the shapes on the shirts of other (the dipping rectangle), and undergarment (black) + red and black leather vest and pants. The strips blend in nicely with this sort of outfit, while also allowing Chizu to have many weapons besides the hidden ones she has, the ninja stars and the small crossbow in her gauntlets/hand guards. Chizu's back-magnet triangle meanwhile fits her outfit style exactly, with a black inlay and golden-color outer rim, sort of like Usagi's magnet, but with no inset. Perhaps it's not a magnet at all then? But it sorta makse sense to be a magnet still. In ep 2, she brings her collapsible naginata along and sets it on her back. So this is a running design element amont the characters of Neo Edo that they carry their weapons on these magnetic shapes - strips, circlets, triangles, etc

Kitsune has a very straight-forward outfit. She presents herself as an ordinary street performer while also stealing during her performances, skillfully enough that she doesn't need a helping hand in this. Her outfit consists of mostly greens, teals and on the leaf-prints of her kimono vest, we see that she has maple-leaf patterns in beige, orance and yellow tones, in homage to her namesake and inspiration, the Kitsune in the Usagi Yojimbo comics. Her belt goes around her waist 2 times, while the 3rd time sits more loosely around her left hip, carrying her leather pouch, possibly from weight, but also comfort. compared to the previous two, Kitsune's outfit seems less about hiding or being openly her profession and more about her feeling comfortable, being herself. This is also why she has different bracelets and bangles on her writsts. As with Usagi and Chizu, her clothings are closed in the traditional kimono 'y' shape, left over right side, but while Usagi has only his vest over his armor and undershirt, and Chizu's is just her undershirt, for Kitsune she has both a vest and dark green undershirt, meaning that she appears more casual and layered. Possibly, because of living on the streets, she is ready for any weather and these clothes might have more other practical applications. But also likely, she just feels comfortable in these warm clothes. It is spring after all at the start of the series (exactly the same day it aired, April 28th), so possibly the air is more brisk and Kitsune has kept this look for just a while. All this is more observation + fantheory, but otherwise, there seem to be no metal or magnetic parts on her body. She does not focus on fighting as much as the others and her modus operandi in fights seems to more self-defense, which is what her battle fans are meant for, a self-defense weapon. It's possible she could have hiding places on her open-toed boots for smaller weapons, but then again, I do not believe we've seen them used as such in the show.

Now I wonder how these magnet strips are produced and made at all... do they use the Ki-Stone to magnetize strips of metal somehow? There are many methods to make magnets irl, so I wonder which ones were used here to achieve this strong magnet effect together with the rest of the Ki-Stone's effects...

Anyway, this isn't a deep-dive about clothing, I just wanted to shortly write about the interesting element of magnet wepon-holders, because these seem a ki-stone specific magic/science, but I got a bit lengthy about the clothings anyway bc I like this show ^^

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incorrectstarwarslegendsquotes · 8 months

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you can’t look dignified while having fun

okay but like

Solo Command is genuinely one of my favorite books, ever. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry, and yes- the whole experience embodies the "You can't look dignified while having fun," quote. I read the Wraith books at a dark time in my life, and they genuinely improved my outlook.

The whole trilogy embodies all the best parts of Star Wars- hope, redemption, found family, Glup Shittos- and if you haven't read them, I cannot recommend them enough.

anyway i've joked about (un)licensed therapist Wes Janson before but seriously that man carried the mental health of that entire squadron on his back

#wraith squadron #yub yub commander #also check out the Rogue Podron wraith episodes they're great #their dramatic readings are *chef's kiss*#answered asks #anonymous #not a quote

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specter319 · 4 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄? (Ace Combat x CoD 141)

A/N: As a little Christmas present, I decided to work on a little something something, seeing a random anon state in @mockerycrow's Ask about fighter jets and Task Force 141 got my interest real quick, having been someone who got introduced to these two fandoms 1-2 years ago I absolutely adore the storyline in regards to Trigger and Count, but also the storyline as a whole, neatly wrapping up the reason why three strikes is called three strikes, if only a certain other game could have the same sort of stable plot- Complaints about the plot aside for those who stumble upon it have fun with this little short story that's been brewing in my head! Please enjoy the Homoeroticism of Ghost and Soap Trigger Warnings: Mention of Blood Word Count: 2.5k Words Characters: John 'Soap' MacTavish x Simon 'Ghost' Riley, mentions of Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick and Johnathan Price.

From the moment John MacTavish’s Scottish blue eyes gazed upwards into the beautiful atmosphere above him, he knew he was utterly and completely fucked. It all started with one moment in time, watching the infamous ‘Ghost’ launch one of their newly brought F-35s testing it out for another squadron, making sure all systems were in check. Watching it from the fences as the utter decimation of their ears thanks to the lack of protection were good faith to the man taking it, for what seemed to be a joy ride. And as Kyle and John stood there, seeing it hovering just mere meters above the runway, their joy was all but uncontainable in knowing just who was behind the sticks.

Conversations were the only thing that took over the engines' mighty roar as Kyle and John yelled at the inanimate object in celebration.

“Ooh yeah! Ooh yeah!” Kyle yelled out.

“Ooh, go ‘un, go ‘un” John egged right back.

And then, just as it pulled up, sure it was now at best pulling upwards of 5 gees, the men on the ground cheered.

“Go on you fuckin’ beauty!” Just as it was making its way further into the clouds, graciously curving its own form into the shape of them.

They were ecstatic, joyful, even, at least one was, to see a man so tall, almost built like a damn statue from ancient history managing to tame a beast so wild, and wicked. And yet, knowing that it was almost second nature in that man's blood to fly it, because that bastard was the only one allowed, thanks to the great charm of the bastards in the west, to have an F-22 Raptor. The only one in the UK, belonged to a man who had no name, never showed his face to the people he didn’t know, including the two men who stood there on the grassy knoll outside of the airbase cheering him on.

What a weird shitpot of luck that was, almost as if the gods of fate above had been watching the two men above, seeing them be so supportive of a man who never had the cheers of his fellow squad members, but instead, feared him. Tried to rebel against him, just to get a far enough away distance to stay away from a man and his, as some people called it ‘Raptor’s Ghost’.

Those that had seen it, had been lucky enough to tell the tale, at least, on the side he came back to, fellow squadron and captain, but those who had been on the receiving side of those guns as they lifted from their molded seam, only saw a wisp of a dark gray aircraft, before a fiery explosion filled their cabin.

Yes, there was one thing to be known about this ‘Ghosts’ jet — he’d specified that he must have it in a darker gray. Just a couple of shades darker than what the original metal was painted as. And the thing was? Somehow, amongst his captains ranking, the government and even the fuckers down in Lockheed — they’d said yes to the request. Even if a few bureaucrats in the Pentagon were waving the red flag from the start.

So he guessed that’s what the plan was then, to go and catch a sneak in the middle of the night of what it looked like, though Kyle tried with all of his might to persuade him otherwise, John was dead set on seeing the beauty that stood in the dead of the night in Ghost’s hangar, wielded far away from the rest of the base, but close enough to know that the rest of the team always, haunted by a Ghost, he guessed that’s where the name came from then. Given that this was usually seen beside the B-2, a call sign of Ghost would’ve been fitting for someone in a something like this. And it seemed like fate was tempting him all and amongst this, because, as John approached the hangar, as big as it was, there was a crack left open, not closed, like all the other times he’d passed it in his own jet. Only to then realize this was the reason why they had called him Ghost to begin with, no one thought he was around, until it was too late.

Everyone knew this Ghost, was a guy, they’d heard his voice, never heard him laugh, was only ever a man of a few simple commands and went off when requested. What caught John MacTavish off guard however, was not only the hangar open, but the place had reeked of oil and fuel, only to be diverged its acoustics of the tin metal in the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, a far cry from the throat roar of the hotdogged engines, John could already tell what Ghost had been doing to the poor thing. Either someone had been here recently or there was still someone here, but that never mattered as his Scottish blue eyes once more, got him fucked over, classical music be damned.

The metallic gray was no longer present, much like he had seen on the various photos that had beautifully given the thing a personality of beauty, and yet deadly. But instead, it was given a more, mature grayed look, as if it was a rehashed version of the F-35, the very same one he had been seen in this afternoon in a reskinned jet. Sudden realizations hit the man when thinking in Ghost’s logic, not too shabby for a Ghost when John had realized that much to his enemies disliking, when they suddenly realized that the jet was no longer a most recent US fighter, it was too late to break off anyway.

And much akin to John’s own footsteps, he’d realized that he was pulled in by the absolute sheer squared beauty of the thing and had moved right into the Ghost’s trap.

“What are you doin’ in my hangar?” Ghost lowly spoke, standing to the side, having seen him since he strolled in here.

“Jesus wept!” John spoke as he suddenly turned around, the closed distance between them was something almost scary at just how close and personal this man had gotten, and all amongst that, he seemingly had the goal to wear a bloody balaclava, all the while wearing a stripped down version of the gear they would have to haul around on their bodies. Was he really that comfortable in wearing the same shit each day? At least the only thing invading his senses was oil and fuel.

“I said what are ya doing here?” Ghost questioned before his eyes glanced over at the hangar “Squadron leaders gonna know about this,” his voice loomed.

“Sorry,” That’s all the weak bastard had as he tried to pick himself up faster than he could pull back on his own stick. “A’m interested in that piece of art ye’v got there, heard you were the one flying the Lightning around this mornin’”

“So you were the two hanging around the fence”

John stiffened at the sheer mention of that, he’d seen them? He didn’t think he had given the height already gained as he passed the pair of them from the runway.

“Wanted to watch her give her a proper launch, sir” John hesitated as Ghost only snorted and shook his head at the mention of the last word.

“Flight Lieutenant to you” This Ghost guy seemingly didn’t want to have him out of his hangar after all, but there was no doubt that heavy brown eyes were on him, painted darker then the plane before him as his eyes registered on MacTavish’s uniform still barely on given the zip that was seemingly fought with, the sheen of sweat that was just above the ridgeline of his eyebrows gave away just how much he’d been working during the rest of his day, when he seemingly wasn’t cheering this man on, then again. MacTavish did seem like a familiar last name, what could hurt but to take a guess.

“Apologies,” John moved ever so closer to the jet, almost as if he were to go ahead and, to the thought running in the back of Ghost’s mind, steal it. Poor bastard, probably wouldn’t be able to handle the ride as well as he could. “Does that mean I get to call you LT then?”

The cocky chatter over the radio, often with another teammate, only gave Ghost all the more confidence to take that stab in the dark to try and pinpoint just who he was.

“You can, so long as you tell me if you’re the one flying that bloody F-16 around.”

John’s eyes suddenly went wide, and of course, that cocky Brit saw it, and with his own pair too. His soul had actively left his body in the acknowledgement that someone had noticed his maneuverability, everyone else had F/A-18’s. But MacTavish was the one that stood his ground when he said he wanted a former fighter pilots F-16, ready to be given back to the Americans, decommissioned, probably in a scrap heap, and yet, here he was, breathing new life into it and treating it like it had just come off the factory rollers. Though, his only fault that he seemingly had with it, was that of the lack of gun ammunition, paling in comparison to something like the beast that stood before him.

“Uh, and why would tha’ be?”

Ghost paused, raising a brow in confusion, maybe he was going to have to talk to John’s squad leader, had he really not seen beyond his two feet at just who he had under his wing, the man could maneuver the thing as well as he could like the jet he stood before and maybe, if he ever took the chance (which, in high unlikely doubt he would) he could probably pilot Ghost’s, if not, with just a bigger amount of hesitation.

“Just wanted to give a recommendation to the squadron leader as to who to take under our wing, old talents retiring at the end of the year, figured I’d give whoevers flying that F-16 and the one with the yellow strip along the body of the ‘18 a fighting chance at joining the 141” He brushed it off, like it was a chance to come clean. Ghost knew that MacTavish was the one flying the thing, often put in a good word about it to Price. And Price often agreed, that and ‘Gaz’ who was often his wingmanaccording to Price’s notes were often hotshots, but never in an egotistical, ‘wanting to show who’s boss’ way, it was always one of teamwork, and he quite enjoyed seeing them chant as one of their other teammates took down a target before they did.

“The 141?” MacTavish asked

“Yeah, just need to find out who the pair are in the two jets first” Ghost was toying with him as he finally made a move over to his own, inspecting the various scratches that were seemingly evident in the light, but gave the aircraft a seemingly weathered look, one that, Ghost admired.

“There a reason why they call you the Ghost?” Quick this one was to change the subject, avoiding it, but copying him all the more in his movements as John did the same, placing a gentle hand along the aircraft as his calloused fingers felt a deep scar along the face of the jet, maybe that’s why he rarely had repairs done to the thing other than ones that were required. Maybe that’s why he wears the mask, he’s damaged, just like the bird before him – but he still flies, still finds meaning in the daylight and blue hues of skies.

“There a reason why you’re dancing around the question?” Their hands moved along the surface of the steel at almost the same time, unknown, but as if they were tracing one another's patterns as the question was left in the air for a bit too long before they finally moved to the nose of the aircraft, having no choice but to look at one another as they did so.

“Could say the same,” He watched as Ghost moved towards him, facing him, how he towered over the man with that stature of power, and yet, the only real dominating power he seemingly had left was his rank, and the jet. Because all the smug bastard did was place his hands behind his back and look down at the Scotsman, as if inspecting him as he did the jet, to see if like him, he too had scars beneath that mohawk and blue eyes that seemingly contrasted ever so beautifully along the dark gray. “What happens if one of us already knows the answers?”

“Then I guess one of us will have to await the answers of the future, but if they already know the answers, they shouldn’t have to wait too long” They both knew one another were staring, helplessly, but stopping it neither as eyes behind that mask squinted ever so gently. So he did have his scars, one on the chin, must have had a bad accident for it to get that bad, and the blood from it too.

“Then I guess I’ll ‘ave ta’ see me way out of this museum then huh? Wouldn’t want ta make a scene now aye?” John smiled, physically having to retch himself from the spot he stood in, not wanting to move away from the view that was before him.

“Don’t quite appreciate customers making a scene and disturbing the nature of this art” So he wasn’t the only one to quickly move along with what he was suggesting as he followed him, only ever a few steps behind, maybe that’s why he got that name, loud as anything in a jet, then he never exists once the engines shut off.

Ghost eventually stopped following him as John made his way out near the doors of the hangar, lingering around just a bit more before he stopped in his tracks, just maybe, if he really did have the answers, he could see how his future LT would respond. “Don’t think I could handle two pieces of art in a museum, never been able ta handle more than one” He swore up and down he saw the man’s head snap into place about that comment, a slight squint at the body language that John was trying to portray as he moved through the hangar doors. “Have a good night, LT”

“Officer Mactavish.”

Payback time.

“Aye sir?” And they’d fallen into line already, a wingman, of sorts, to a Ghost.

“Call me Simon”

Now MacTavish was standing there, being a complete idiot, baffled by the fact that he, of all people, managed to get into the inner circle of a man named Simon, a Ghost. A snort was then heard through the airy atmosphere as he suddenly turned around and walked back towards the stairs of his office, looking back over his shoulder, leaving him in a scrambled state that was the brain of John MacTavish.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” He paused, “For a F-16 Pilot.”

So that’s his name.

#spectersblog #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #specterwrites #soapghost #call of duty #ace combat #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain price #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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usafphantom2 · 2 months

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In 1965, the A-12 was ready for deployment. The CIA wanted the A-12 over China. The Department of Defence needed the A-12 for missions over North Vietnam. Plans were made for the code word “BLACK SHIELD” to go operational. The A-12s were stationed at Kadena AFB, Okinawa. They would be named the 1129th Special Activities Squadron. They were affectionately nicknamed the Roadrunners. In 1968, on the island of Okinawa, there would be both A-12s, and SR 71s. The locals would point up at the airplane and yell Habu Habu! They thought the airplanes looked like a snake, called the Habu. This is where the name Habubrats comes from.

”The most critical event that the Trainer could not prepare you for was the inlet unstarts because it didn't have spikes (variable geometry inlet) and could not reach Mach 3. Other essential points to make at this juncture: 1- The A-12 did not have aft bypass doors. 2- did not have spike and door position indicators. 3- only had spike/door restart switches. 4- the fuel controls were unreliable. 5- the inlet controls were unreliable. To repeat, everything was very dynamic, changing all the time, usually to the best.” this is a quote by A-12 pilot Ken Collins.

I never thought of this before that the trainer could not prepare the pilots for the inlet unstart problem because it didn’t have the spikes and could not go Mach three!

According to Ken, every A-12 pilot had trouble with un-starts. The unstart problem was passed on to the SR 71 program and was not solved until the 1970s when DEFICS was in place to restart the engines.

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

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amjo-vnl · 1 year

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Victims of Baron Zemo

I couldn't find this list on the Internet (maybe I wasn't looking hard enough), so I decided to make it myself.

1. Colonel Vasily Karpov (cause of death: drowning)

1.1. (alternative scene of getting the book)

~48 people at the auction (cause of death (or knockout): asphyxiation by gas)

2. ~12 people, including King T'Chaka (cause of death: explosion at the UN)

And more than 70 people were injured

3. Dr Theo Broussard (cause of death: (?)stab wound)

4. 5 soldiers of the Elite Death Squadron (cause of death: gunshot wound)

5. Overseer Menz (cause of death (or knockout): physical injuries)

6. Dr Wilfred Nagel (cause of death: gunshot wound)

7. 4 bounty hunters (cause of death: gunshot wound)

8. (by the hands of an old friend)

4 members of the Flag Smashers (cause of death: van explosion)

#baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #falcon and winter soldier

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blackswaneuroparedux · 9 months

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The reward of one duty is the power to fulfil another.

George Eliot

HRH Prince Edward, Duke of Kent is one of the most underrated members of the Royal Family, always stoic he’s always been dependable and never flusters, the world needs more 'Steady Eddies'.

There’s no question that the Duke of Kent’s dedication to serving the crown and the country is beyond reproach. For over 50 years, the Duke of Kent has been performing royal duties and on behalf of the monarchy. HRH Prince Edward at a young age filled a huge role vacated by the untimely death of his father in 1942. Since then, the Duke of Kent has ceaselessly spent much of his time performing ceremonial functions, attending charitable causes and supporting various organisations on behalf of his cousin Queen Elizabeth II and the British Monarchy. He has represented Her Majesty in the independence celebrations in the former British colonies of Sierra Leone, Uganda, Guyana, and Gambia. Most recently he has attended the 50th Independence Anniversary Celebration of Ghana. He has also acted as Counselor of State during periods of the Queen's absence abroad.

What is often forgotten is that HRH Prince Edward was a fine soldier. Much like the late Duke of Edinburgh’s naval service was subsumed by his royal persona, the Duke of Kent has never let his royal duties interfere with his army career.

Prince Edward attended Ludgrove in Berkshire for his preparatory education. He then proceeded to Eton College and later in Le Rosey in Switzerland. After school, he attended the Royal Military Academy in Sandhurst, where he won the Sir James Moncrieff Grierson prize for foreign languages. After graduating from Sandhurst in 1955, the duke joined the Royal Scots Grey as Second Lieutenant. That was the start of a military career that spanned over 20 years, one which took him to various places around the world.

In 1961, he was promoted Captain; Major in 1967; and Lieutenant Colonel in 1973. In 1970 the Duke commanded a squadron of his regiment serving in the British Sovereign Base Area in Cyprus, part of the UN force enforcing peace between the Greek and Turkish halves of the island. The duke also spent time commanding a unit in Northern Ireland shortly after the Troubles in the 1970s broke out, but was recalled early on grounds of security.

The duke now maintains his link with the services mainly through honorary rank, which includes that of Colonel of the Scots Guards. He was personal aide-de-camp to his cousin Queen Elizabeth II who promoted him supernumerary Major General on her official birthday in 1983. He was later made a Field Marshal in 1993.

HRH Prince Edward is the longest-serving royal colonel in history. Not just of the Scots Guards but of any regiment in the British Army.

#eliot #george eliot #quote #HRH Prince Edward #duke of kent #british army #british monarchy #monarchy #service #duty #honour #scots guards #regiment #royal scots grey #britain #british

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tuliptheoshawott · 7 months

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#tournament poll #fandom polls #polls #tumblr polls #90s #snes #nintendo #un squadron #star wars #super star wars #return of the jedi #kirby #kirby's dream course

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carbone14 · 9 months

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Les résultats d'une collision entre le bombardier B-17 'All American' du 414th Squadron du 97th Bombardment Group et une aile d'un Messerschmitt Me 109 après une mission de bombardement (objectif récurrent, le port de Tunis) – Campagne d'Afrique du Nord – Biskra – Algérie – 1er février 1943

#WWII #campagne d'afrique du nord #north african campaign #aviation militaire #military aviation #bombardier #bomber #bombardier lourd #heavy bomber #boeing B-17 Flying Fortress #B-17 Flying Fortress #B-17 #flying fortress #biskra #algérie #algeria #01/02/1943 #02/1943 #1943

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stopthatfool · 8 months

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stop-that-fool's ICEMAV timeline for Your jeep. Your Teeth. The coffee that you bought me.

AKA where my icemav's story sticks to canon and where it diverges/changes-- all while trying to make it align with real military/historical events.

Also, thank you @sliderkerner for indulging me and saying that you wanted my timeline posted here!

DISCLAIMER! I am in no way an expert of the US Military. This whole 'timeline' should not be taken as fact or canon regarding TOP GUN. I am making this for my own understanding of my icemav story and to help myself and anyone reading keep track of the timeline. This is just for fun and mostly for me.

Quick note about the time off US Military members get. According to this website, people accumulate leave-- 2.5 days per month of work. I don't think that either Mav or Ice are eager to take time off. I can only see them wanting to take time off to visit Carole and Bradley (as Val Kilmer stated, I also believe that Ice does not have the ideal family). That's why a lot of their work seems back-to-back/never ending.

1986-

-The movie stays the same (Goose dies, intense amounts of sexual tension between Ice and Mav, "You can be my wingman anytime" etc., etc.)

-The FIRST change in canon is when Mav states that he's going to try teaching at TOP GUN. In TGM, Mav said he barely lasted one class. Within my story, Mav lasts until 1988.

Between '87 and '88-

-Ice comes to teach at TOP GUN (entirely for the purpose of his career/'resume' for working his way up for promotions etc., etc.)

-While Ice is there (for around 2 TOP GUN classes) that is when Ice and Mav start getting involved romantically.

-But Ice hates teaching. He leaves mid '88 and joins the Iran-Iraq War aboard USS Enterprise.

Late 1988-

-Mav completes one last TOP GUN class after Ice leaves and follows Ice to the USS Enterprise (a happy accident that they were stationed on the same ship). This then allows them to continue their 'involvement' and allow them to fly together again ("Bullshit, you can be mine" blah blah blah).

1990-

-The Gulf War. According to Fandom Wiki both Mav and Ice have the Kuwait Liberation Medal-- meaning they both fought in the Gulf War around this time. (Btw they are no longer on the USS Enterprise as she was no longer involved in the Gulf War past 1989 (I think))

-In my TOP GUN universe, Mav gets another 'kill' during the Gulf War (I have no idea if any naval aviators did this in 1990 (Mav didn't do this canonically) but it happens within the stop-that-fool fanfic universe). Merlin is also Mav's RIO throughout the the Gulf War.

1991-

-BUT Ice has the Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi Arabia) while Mav does not. Mav has the Southwest Asia Service Medal. So, for my story this time in between 1991-92 is when Mav pisses someone off and is moved squadrons/carriers to somewhere in Southwest Asia.

-Both of them, according to these medals, participated in Operation Desert Storm. (Mav also could have participated in Operation Desert Shield due to his Southwest Asia Service Medal.)

-Throughout 1991 they are able to see each other a couple times, but the fact that Mav keeps pissing people off makes it difficult. This is also because Navy deployments on average last between 6-7 months (according to a quick Google search) and for the sake of the story, their deployments and time off in between rarely overlap.

1992-

-This difficulty continues into 1992 where it all comes to a head on Dec. 31st 1992 (Ice's birthday! (Ice does not have a 'canon' birthday, but Dec. 31st is Val Kilmer's and I thought that bday also made sense for Ice)). Que the car scene in ch.4 and the aftermath the next morning.

-Throughout '92, Mav was in Iraq participating in the Iraqi no-fly zones. (I think. I find this UN mandate difficult to understand, especially whether or not the US Navy was involved or not.)

1993-

-Mav and Ice do not see each other in person at all in '93. But as said in ch.4 they-- "...talk about nothing on the phone. Ice never picks him up from the airport again."

-The US Navy also provided air cover for cargo planes that were bringing relief supplies during the Bosnian War. This is where Mav was placed in '93 (pissed off some captain or higher up or something).

-Ice and Mav don't see each other (in person) until '94.

The UNITED NATIONS MEDAL- In the TOP GUN fandom wiki page, both Ice and Mav are listed to have a United Nations Medal. What it does not state, and what I cannot find anywhere online, is what conflict they were a part specifically of for them to receive this medal. There are multiple options throughout the 1990's and 2000's that could have led to this award. BUT for the sake of my story, I will only be considering/applying conflicts that took place between 1994-98.

Between 1994 and '96-

-I think Ice received the UNPROFOR United Nations Medal for his service during the Yugoslav Wars. This is where he was between 1994-95. As I stated in ch.3 he was stationed somewhere in Europe after he and Mav 'break up' (I can't figure out what United Nations Medal Mav could have received-- it's difficult to figure out US Navy specific peacekeeping missions he could been involved in besides UNPROFOR.))

1997-

-It's around this year that Mav uses some of his accumulated vacation days to spend a longer period with Carole and Bradley. Ice is still stationed in Europe (workaholic).

1998-

-After Mav's time off, he's deployed again to Iraq.

As I mentioned in a previous post, not a lot of things happen in early to mid 1998 in regards to military conflicts, BUT Operation Desert Fox happens in December of 1998. I think the military would need to have people around before the operation before completing something of that scale. AKA that's why Mav is there in June.

-Then on an undisclosed date in early June, Mav crashes as stated in ch.1 (“You dodged some crazy bastards up there, then hit a bird. The plane crashed into the ground, and you ejected and landed on some rocks...").

-Mav is transferred to a hospital in California as he needs special surgery for his shattered knee cap.

-Ice has been in California for a couple days when Mav gets there because his paternal grandfather is dying (another happy accident that his grandfather is in the same hospital as Mav (god i love plot armour)). Ice had previously been permanently stationed somewhere in Europe (to get away from his family, Mav, and to work up to a promotion).

-Carole dies a couple days after Mav is released from the hospital. Bradley is now under Mav's legal guardianship. They move into military provided family housing on the Lemoore Naval Air Station with Mav teaching at the SFWSPAC (Strike Fighter Weapons School Pacific) once his injuries heal.

-Ice then reveals that he has requested to be stationed in California with Mav (the request was approved, Ice is now near both his family AND Mav... he's so silly).

-On June 21st 1998, Mav, Ice and Bradley drive out to West California to the beach cottage Mav rented (courtesy of Viper) with the plans of celebrating Bradley's birthday on June 27th (finally someone with a canon bday thank u Bradley).

Anyway, that's all we got so far! I would just like to say again that I am in no way claiming that this is accurate or canon. I also can't guarantee that I understand all of the wars, conflicts, operations, and details of the US military that I stated previously. So if I got something wrong; any of the language I used, details of the wars and conflicts stated, I apologize! Very deeply. From the depths of my soul.

#this is proof that i am a productive member of society #I AM NOT AN EXPERT #this is just for fun #all my info is basically from Wikipedia plz do not trust me #i tried to hyperlink everything that i referenced.. which is mostly Wikipedia #sorry about that.. but i don't care THAT much to find 'reliable' sources #like this is a military propaganda movie after all.. therefore i'm not like... dying to make this as accurate as possible #who am i kidding here #this is literally for a fanfiction #do u think tom cruise would combust on the spot if he saw this... all this for a gay fanfiction....#again this is mostly for me to reference-- my scattered notes and floating thoughts in my brain were not working anymore #so i made this for myself and then i thought i would post it #because sharing is caring #i got the fanfic name right #finally #the military propaganda got to me. IT GOT ME.#icemav #icemav fanfic #top gun 1986 #top gun #maverick #iceman #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fanfiction #thank u ily bye #ao3 #stopthatfool writes

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theterribletenno · 4 months

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Can’t draw so I’ll just write

Reclaimed Helminth Technocyte Testing.

Test site: Orokin Tower ship designation EUPHRATES, geosynchronous high-orbit above Pluto.

Overseer: Lady Chamis Muderole, 2nd daughter of Muderole family.

Staff: 14 Archimedean scientists (9 Technocyte specialist, 5 general biologist), 26 Dax, 31 Bridge crew, 109 Service crew, 19 prisoners.

Mission details: Experimental use of reclaimed technocyte from feral samples. Former technocyte lab on surface of Pluto experienced un-planned release of specimens, resulting in colony infestation. Contamination spread prevented by quarantine, feral infested unable to survive Plutonian surface climate. Dax special force squadron collected samples before cauterization of compromised site. Collected “Post-Helminth” samples have been extensively tested and modified for attempted re-integration into Helminth project.

Lady Chamis Muderole Personal Notes: I am repeatedly cautioned by my Archimedeans that the post-Helminth strains are unstable and unpredictable and that results cannot be guaranteed. Executor Ballas has made it clear that more warframes are needed urgently, and that quantity supersedes quality. Batch three testing will begin in less than an hour. Archimedean Philias has been selected to fill one of the empty specimen tables after her unseemly outburst during my last lab visit. My Dax guard’s sword came within an inch of her neck when she grabbed my wrist. Speaking of the Dax, with only six of our seven tables filled I chose two of my Dax soldiers - Imugi and Pliamet, two of my best - and gave them a simple command. Fight to the death, the survivor gets the honor of becoming a warframe. Pliamet Dax began to speak, I did not bother to heed his words but I believe he intended to disregard my orders. Imugi Dax had no such compunctions. His sword struck true in the blink of an eye, and Pliamet’s head tumbled to the ground. With Archimedean Philias and Imugi Dax filling the last of the seven specimen tables we can begin as soon as the injectors are loaded. To stifle Philias’ incessant screaming I instructed my Dax to gag her with one of my golden bracelets. It did so amuse me how perfectly that heavy golden bead fit in her whimpering mouth.

Post-Helminth Batch 3 test results

Specimen 1: Total failure, tagged for incineration. What a mess. It was sickening to behold. Specimen 1 (John Doe, convicted of heresy) was an immediate failure. The flesh at the injection site began to boil immediately, deforming into a raspberry-like mass of tumors that hung from naked bone. The subject’s body continued to degrade until catastrophic failure of multiple organs. What’s left of him wouldn’t even look like it had ever been human if it weren’t for the bloody skull visible on the left side of what was once his head. The right side of his body was less affected, as he died before the infestation could spread thoroughly throughout. Initial prognosis for failure is over-mutation of technocyte sample. No further testing is required, the sample will be atomized.

Specimen 2: Success. Unique phenotype, tagged for further study. I had high hopes for this specimen (Son Nguyen; convicted of aiding and abetting rebel terrorists) and I was not disappointed. The Archimedeans are right, the helminth strain does more with what’s inside a person than their flesh alone. His flesh changed rapidly, the technocyte covering his arms, legs, and head with a smooth shell of gleaming steel. Across his round iron carapace a multitude of pockmarks emerged, a pattern of sunken recesses that glow with unnatural blue light, a long thin needle rising from the very middle of each one. These pocks and needles emit a tingling electric hum. He will need to be inspected by experts on sacred Lua to determine if he is a new type, or a variation of the golem they call Volt.

Specimen 3: Final-stage failure, tagged for autopsy. Specimen 3 (Dorian Mastiff; convicted of armed assault, murder of the first & second degree, and three other crimes) responded well to initial injection. Very little screaming. Plate-like extrusions of dull gray metal emerged across his skin, dermis underwent full replacement. Musculoskeletal augmentation appears successful, pending autopsy report. However, after protracted convulsions the subject’s belly collapsed inwards and then ripped open, spilling pink, red, orange and yellow entrails across the table and floor while the subject’s vitals flatlined. Cause of failure to be determined during autopsy.

Specimens 4 & 5: Unqualified success, recommended for immediate deployment. I had no particular expectations for our last two criminal specimens (Torres & Sia Fallon; convicted of possession of illegal firearms and conspiracy to commit treason) and so I was pleasantly surprised by the results. It all began with the usual howling and thrashing as bone reshapes and skin turns inside out but imagine my shock when each of the two managed to wrest an arm free of the clamps, only so they could hold each others hand as they endured holy metamorphosis. Beautiful to behold, as the shapes of their bodies deformed into haunting curves bulbous and hollow, hand in hand as they sang into the walls of the transmogrification lab. Seeing them now I nearly feel a tear in my eye, the shapes of their curves, their peaks and valleys seem perfect to fit against each other like the pieces of a puzzle. Two halves of a whole; balancing each other in both shape and color. If Executor Ballas allows, I would very much like to keep these two for myself.

Specimen 6: Success. Unique phenotype, tagged for further study. Our Archimedeans are chosen for the prowess of their minds, not for their ability to withstand even the slightest amount of pain. With the golden ball from my bracelet muffling her screams Archimedean Philias squealed and whimpered throughout the entire process. If I had not gagged her I’m sure her screaming would have drowned out all other noise in the room. And oh how I chuckled when I saw that gleaming golden bead trapped permanently in the angular beak that had replaced Philias’ mouth, clenched and frozen. A precious little momento of her final moments as a human being. Oh, I do adore her now. How her research vestments gave way to streaming silken ribbons, how her features were completely hidden by the shining metal mask that grew from her skull. She is so beautiful now, and so quiet. I think I wish I could keep her most of all. No telling what powers this new form of yellow gold and red silk could possibly possess, but that is what tests are for. I wish I could see that perfectly chiseled beak of hers clutching that golden ball every day.

Specimen 7: Unqualified success, recommended for immediate deployment. (Imugi Dax, volunteered) In retrospect, I admit that subjecting Archimedean Philias to the transformation was impulsive and emotional, and doing the same to Imugi Dax was pure whimsy. The only things aboard this ship that are allowed to second-guess me are myself and my cephalon. I won’t express regret for my decision, but I will admit its shortsightedness. With that said, I now ask myself why we do not use the Dax soldiers for more of our warframe projects. The technocyte grafts with their flesh and bone so easily, Imugi never once screamed. While the others howled, cried, and gurgled, Imugi was silent as stone. The nanomachines rushed through his veins and arteries, turning his whole body a noble blue. How calmly his shape changed. The quiet re-ordering of bone and muscle. Thick yet slender, powerful yet elegant, the stately helmet of the Dax fusing to his skull to give him a most commanding silhouette... and that beautiful slate blue all over him accented by dots and streaks of noble jade glow. A perfect warframe.

Additional notes: We are squandering a great deal of potential using criminals as our primary test subjects for the Warframe Project. The Helminth technocyte is best when it has good material to work with: individuals of exceptional quality. Results from tests conducted on subjects with superior skills, knowledge, and physical condition like the Dax have such a high success rate while wasting test batches of degenerates and reprobates leaves me with tables full of mangled corpses. The criminal fodder is much more suited for use in controlled mass-production cloning of archetypes. This research is no longer just my assignment. It is my passion. It is my art. We should not be wasting time and resources on reclaiming technocyte clay from the feral mud, we should be culturing strains of the finest porcelain for our masterpieces!

#warframe #orokin logs

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judgeanon · 9 months

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Plastic Skies of Betrayal - Model 12: F-5E Tiger II “Area 88″

So this model is a little special. I know I said the same thing about the last one, but while the Raptor build came with a heavy dose of anxiety and frustrations, the next build turned out to be a nice planetary alignment of materials and people all coming together in an incredibly rewarding project. Just like the Raptor, however, talking about it involves talking about other things first. In this case, a late 70s manga that set up camp in my brain months ago and refuses to leave.

Have you ever heard of AREA 88? If not, you’re about to.

So there’s this plane called the Northrop F-5 Tiger II, which I’d actually never heard about until I played Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War. That game famously starts you off in an F-5 and locks you there for the first four or five missions, so I became pretty well-acquainted with this tiny little fighter. Some people might recognize its shape from the original TOP GUN, where it was painted black and used as a stand-in for Russian MiG planes, but on the other side of the Pacific, a lot of people know it best as one of the signature planes of one Shin Kazama.

Shin is the protagonist of AREA 88, a manga by Kaoru Shintani that started all the way in 1979 and ended in 1986, the same year TOP GUN came out. I first heard about it while looking at some model kits, and since I was (and in a lot of ways still am) elbows deep in fighter jets at that time, I started to dig a bit deeper. Three OVAs and half a manga series later, I was absolutely hooked. The air combat is fantastic and the manga pulls a bunch of incredible visual tricks to render it, but it’s the intense melodrama of the characters that really kept me in. It’s a tremendously engaging, compelling and interesting series from every angle. And funny enough, I’d actually seen it once, over a decade ago. Just not as a manga or as an anime.

As it turns out, AREA 88 had a videogame for the SNES that had been brought to the West as “UN SQUADRON”, and I had actually played it back when my computer was so underpowered that all I could play were emulated retro games. Running into the game’s source material again in the midst of a wild craze triggered by another videogame was a strange but fun little return, and along with my growing obsession with said source material, cemented my decision to make my next model AREA 88-themed. And the universe seemed more than happy to provide.

My current favorite hobby shop turned out to have a 1/72 Tiger II model for a very nice price, made by the same company that made the F-16 model I’d built some months ago. To make things even better, it was also the exact same kit I’d already seen a much better hobbyist than me turn into Shin’s plane and upload tons of great reference pics online. All I really needed would be the decals, so I asked the shop’s owner if he could get me in touch with someone who prints customs decals. He obliged, although in the end that wouldn’t be necessary.

The build itself was pretty sweet, although not without its hiccups. There was no family drama to distract me this time nor lingering feelings of guilt. Even money was no longer an object. Feeling more relaxed than usual, I took my time with it, and challenged myself to add a few extra touches. For example, taking the thinnest brush I have, dipping it in red paint and giving the stick a little button,

The other thing I also tried out was, for the first time, primer. Yes, I’m a dummy. Yes, I’m not sure how I got this far without it. But I’d never actually needed primer before until disaster struck and some patches of paint began to fall out of my Raptor model kit. I’m still not sure what caused it exactly, but priming models from now on seemed like the smartest solution. As we say down here, better to prevent than mend.

That said, I don’t think I fully understand this whole priming thing yet. Without an airbrush or a spray can, I just used a brush to coat the kit with it, right off the bottle. I’m not sure if this is a good way to use it but at least it smelled really good. And not in a thick chemical kind of way, just genuinely sweet smell. But anyway...

Painting had to be paused for a moment after I let a friend borrow my white paint, so for a week or so only the Tiger’s tail saw any paint, but once I had everything back things moved pretty quickly. I was a bit worried about the blue part since masking tape and me don’t see eye to eye. Still, it worked out alright, and any imperfections were quickly corrected with a bit more paint. Which is something I really appreciate in model-making: if you mess up, you can usually paint over it. Usually.

Like with the stick, I took the time to paint a few other little details like the position lights. Decals and weathering also worked out pretty well, thanks to HobbyBoss’ decals being really good and the plane itself being really small compared to the last couple ones I’d made.

The other thing I felt quite proud of was my paintjob on the transparent parts. I’d been scared of canopies for so long that a bunch of my first models are still purely transparent there, but thanks to a couple of really comfortable brushes and some experience, I’m feeling far more confident about it nowadays. Plus, I’d fallen in love with this shade of blue, so adding more to the plane was its own reward. And speaking of canopies, another little touch I’ve been adding to the planes since the Raptor is to give the whole thing a coat of matte varnish, but then use gloss for the canopy, giving it a nice shiny finish. Although that led to a moment of anxiety when a drop of varnish went inside the canopy and stayed there, giving it a very ugly thick white curve that I feared was permanent. In the end I went to sleep and woke up to the varnish having completely dried out and disappeared, so that’s a good life lesson: sometimes you just need to sleep things off.

So with that and a combination of black and gray panel liner, the Tiger was done! ... or was it? After all, this wasn’t just any Tiger, this is supposed to be Shin Kazama’s Tiger. It was still missing a couple of very important touches. But for the time being I was pretty damn satisfied with the model, top to bottom.

A couple of weeks passed and I never really got around to contacting the guy I’d been recommended, but then I ran into something interesting: a local hobbyist in our local version of eBay was offering custom display bases for model kits at a pretty affordable price. I’d been thinking about getting or even making a humble display base for pictures and stuff, but when I noticed that he was offering custom touches, an idea came to my mind. And that idea lead to a frankly pretty amazing moment of pure human connection.

So after I got paid, I reached out to the guy and asked about getting a 1/72 base made with some extra touches. First, he asked for a picture of the model I wanted to go on the base, so he could take some measurements. Feeling pretty proud of my work so far, I sent him a picture...

... and I swear, the very first thing he said was, and I quote:

“Oh, is that Shin Kazama’s F-5 from Area 88?”

To which my answer was “Ok, that simplifies matters.”

On top of immediately understanding the assignment, new friend even offered to throw in a little extra: a Shin Kazama scale figurine, free of charge. I said yes, of course, ‘cause momma didn’t raise the kind of fool that says no to free stuff, and also asked if he knew anyone who could help me with the decals. As it turned out, he did know a guy. And the combined efforts of three different people living nearly 400 miles away from each other all came together to make something that makes me incredibly happy.

Like everything else I’ve made so far, it’s not perfect. The tail decal couldn’t be easily printed in transparent paper, so it was printed on blue paper that’s ever so slightly a different shade than the one on the plane. But the results are still more than good enough for me.

In the end, this kit turned out to be a very welcome de-stresser. The difficult parts turned out to be a lot less difficult than it seemed, and the base and decals story is something I know I’ll always talk about with a smile on my face. In a hobby that’s usually pretty solitary, that little bit of long-distance camaraderie went a long way. And left me a very nice base for all future projects.

#My Stuff #Hobbies #Journals #Area 88 #F-5 Tiger II #Lovely human beings #Being nice to each other

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