Entries tagged with ip: pacific rim

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Day 163 - 717 words - Prompt: n/a

the kaiji went and changed the rules again. Two showed up, and crolwey glanced at gabriel, pale and worried. The man remain composed, but colrwy could see it in his eyes - he was terrified. He was stull doing PT - the igure healed but he didn't have strangth back. not compeltely.

after olrwy had confronted him on the Priciplaies, Gabreil had told him he'd nevr get to fly again. but now.... so many lives at stake. "go"

corlwey nodded once, turning to flee, gabrils parting words lsot to the room, "please be careful..."

Azirpahel was already siuted when he arrived, looking pleased and relieved to see corlwey, but having no time for wrods. the battle awaited.

it would be different this time - now that corlwey knew, he struggled to keep focues ont he fight, thoguhts straying to instead worry over how much of his friend's personality he was just bulldozing over.

"Crolwey, battle first, worry later"

azirpales voice cut though him like a blade, startleing him back to the task at hand, "I know" the angel said, befrec rolwey could voice an appology, "We'll figure it out later."

later. assuming they survive this. if it hadn't been the successful runs he'd already had int he Host's suit, corlwey was pretty sure they would have tried to blame him forhte accumpliating damage - and maybe they where right. but two kiji was mor ethen they'd prept for, and al the suits where strugging to keep what gorund had been gained. Metatron and sandlephon where swearing up an ungodly storm ont he Host private channels, which stiffled chuckles at tehem loosing preform, but scared him to the bone. they might not be okay this time.

Azripale was working on keeping them from being blindsided while corlwey worked on battering the one they and /E&E/ had cornered from te other fight. the borblem was ths one seemed to be but mass and no amout of otherwise devistating blows to it seemed to shake it for long.

"Azirpale, i need ypou to start hacking."

his co-pilot - becuase that's what he was, damnit! - loked at him queerly, before crowley's own head cuaght up to his mouth, and the idea formed between them. the /beacuracy/ had a blade - but gabriel was not as porficiant as micheal, so it had remained mostly unsued since she'd been called away. and crowley's skill lay in a longer staff. but azzirpale.. well - crolwey could wantch that man spin blade all day -

said main caughted and corwley brought himself back tot he battle, trying to igure the hot blush on his face. maybe don't think sexy thoughts about your co-poloit while the two of you where mentailly linked.

it slid them into the kind of piloting that corlwey was told about - te kind he'd been practicign, but never found. two as one. not the symbiotic existance that the Priciplity program had sucsedded so well at - but teo drift combaitable. there was no nudge to move or a presisng on his mind to dodge. but in insticnt and a pull to move in rythem with azripal,veven though he'd no idea of the steps. it was like that didn't matter, becauase muscle memory kicked in - even it it wasn't his muscles or his memeory. he wasn'ta puppet on a sting, he wasn't int he back seat watching it unfold. but there, smooth as a river, and theyw here cutting into the kaji with a grace crowley could only dream about./ E&E/ stepped back once it was clear /buiacracy/ had a plan, and mostly kept the kaiji from finding it's bearing to firgure out a new plan.

his heart beat steady and sure though outthe whole dance, breath calm and measured. for a breft moemnt, he wasn't a lanky [bastard] who flexabily suggested a slinky for a spine and hips that never did fgire out how the normal man was supposted to walk. he was a solid powerhouse - a brick with a personaity - whose weight just ment each blow fell harder and faster than the last. for a moment, the earth tremmbled and bowed before him, and then it was quiet.

the other group had dispacted theirs shortly after, and the comms willed with cheers and celbration. no suit would go back today undamaged. but ever suit would make it back.

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Day 161 - 1038 words - Prompt: n/a

They stood in silence for too long that night, still sitting in what had become their normal seats across from each other, but now….

Crowley was too angry for words. The Host had mad it clear they really didn't care about Crowley's feeling on the matter, and if he didn't like it there where plenty of other bases to transfer him too. again.

and he knew they'd do it if he raises a stink. the other pilots at the station knew something had happen, but as far as they could tell his flight had gone well, so they didn't understand.

no body understood. hell, even Aziraphale didn't understand. and Crowley knew that if he tried to explain it - tried to expose this dark side tot eh golden boys he'd not only be out on his ass, but Aziraphale would be left here alone once again.

and that was the rub - either way, the Host was still going to keep abusing pilots like Aziraphale. Crowley couldn't topple their system - their system got results. that's all people cared about in the end. so he could make a fuse and get kicked out, leaving Aziraphale behind. or he could keep his mouth shut and be with his friend.

as long as Gabriel was still down for the count - abuse his friend.

he threw his fork down in disgust; Aziraphale had mostly been poking his own meal at this point, the mood in the room having killed his appetite. the clatter of table ware startled him into dropping his own utensil and looked at Crowley worried. warily. afraid.

"I need some air." Crowley grumbled finally. he stood up abruptly, but thought about it for a moment before he stormed away. "you wanna go for a walk?"

he barely waited for Aziraphale's timid, 'sure' before he was marching off, the Host pilot falling in step behind him. they said nothing for a while, Aziraphale just a quite shadow as Crowley tried to walk his nerves back to conversation levels.

by the time they got out into the courtyards, Crowley had come to the term that he wasn't going to be calm enough to talk. but... "Explain it to me Aziraphale. explain how you can justify what happened out there?"

Because Aziraphale wasn't a wallflower. he wasn't... he wasn't someone how let people walk over him. Except he had in that suit he as just gone, and now Crowley could see that it was the same way outside the suit when he was around the rest of the Host pilots.

"are... are you familiar with the Principality Program?"

Crowley shook his head in the negative, slowing his pacing to force Aziraphale to walk beside him. "We.. i mean.. well, every one wants to be a Jaeger pilot, you know. a big giant robot fighting monsters. every child's dream come true. but.. there where a lot of problems in the early models."

Crowley nodded. a lot of pilots died before they figured out how to split the suit functions between two brains. the human system just couldn't handle it.

"Well, the Principalities where the pilots who... could.. manage the suit. on their own. n... non combat situations." Aziraphale stated, like he'd been following Crowley's line of thought. except know that thought train had jumped tracks, and Crowley stopped completely. complete and utterly confused.

Looking as if he expected this, Aziraphale gave him a look that told him he ought to have known better - "surely you had to have given that some thought before; how the suit moves around for maintenance or repairs, or simply from one hanger to the other. it's much easier to just pilot it here than try to manipulate it externally. so as a Principality, we have a much more... innate knowledge of the suits structure than typical pilots. we work with the maintenance and the engineers or the small details. but - we're not like Commander Pentecost or anything, we can't pilot solo in combat more than any other Jaeger pilot. we might have the internal handled, but there's just too much external stimulus."

"But you where in that fight with me - you knew..." he trialed off, Aziraphale face pinched.

"Precipitates help shoulder the burden of the suit, yes. but.. we're not that good at the main controls. it's more. we let our pilots do the actual fighting, and we watch their back. we keep the suit running at optimal effectaincy with out link to what the pilot is planning, but other wise.." he shrugged, "we're their to keep you safe. physically and mentally. we shoulder the mental burden, and then we focus on the things you don't have the ability to watch - we're the eyes int he back of your head"

"that... that's not how piloting is supposed to work."

"It does seem like the others have a different approach, sure. but the Host's have never had an in combate fatality. I'm not sure we've ever even had an injury before. at least.. while linked. I can't do anything about anyone sense of balance once they unhook from the system."

there was something... so blase about that statement that Crowley had to stop and study his face. "How... how did Gabriel get hurt again?"

"He tripped.. on some loose wiring when he was getting out of the suit after a warm-up test."

Yeah - there was something there. Crowley stepped in close, and whispered - aware that the walls had ears -"did you trip your co-pilot?"

"I would of course told him to watch his step, but he'd already disengaged by then...."

"Why?"

here Aziraphale licked his lips, uncertain.

"Aziraphale?"

"I was.. hoping, since Micheal wouldn't be back before the kijui showed up.. that they'd have to pull a freelance pilot in from the station. it would look bad - the host leaving a perfectly usable suit behind while civilians where under attack."

Crowley looked at him dumbfounded. "you.. why... what if ... any freelance pilot?"

"well, there would really only be one choice - i've barely been given the chance to say two words to anyone else."

"you.. maimed your coworker so we could fly together?"

"I.. i wouldn't say maimed, he'll be just fine!" Aziraphale took a breath, that horrible nervous look stealing away across his features, "Too much?"

Crowley couldn't help but laugh, and he drew the anxious man into a hug, "you mad bastard!"

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Day 160 - 642 words - Prompt: drift compatable

the whole damn thing is one big clusterfuck.

No one ever expected the Hosts to be down two pilots - leaving their one man out and a semi working suit. Micheal had been called away off site and gabreil had managed to break his arm trying god knows what.

the repairs to the suit where on azirpahles side, and he was confident that he could wrok aorund and shorts. the Beauacracy jsut needed someone to help him do that. the brothers of the E&E where loath to have an outsider in the suit - but needs must. adn crolwey got to be that lucky pilot seeing as he'd been the only one to really make any kind of azirpahle so far.

no body liked it.

crowley was actually expecting to like it - he did like azirpahle. the man was funny, but just mean enough that no one ever expected it from him. he was a riot. crolwey wasn't sure he liked the fact that he was going to essentially be piloting a malfuntioning half of a suit - but corlwey didn't know hte suit at all, so he really could not complain.

being thrown into battle was not the idea time to see if you where actually drfit compatable with someone, but there wasn't any better choises. corlwey shouldn't have been worried. he was about to discover the big dark secret of the Host pilots, and he would loath ever moment of it.

he and azirpahle where drift compatable. well... in the very loosest sence. one connected, all the two way feedback crolwey was tolt to expect - all the feedback he'd gotten on other attempts. non of it was their. just his own thoughts, and the suit. he was worried that they'd failed comepletely, but the suit moved with ease as corlwey instructed it.

it was... it was like he was solo piloting. not that he'd ever done that - but he immaged this was what it was like. and maybe it had failed and he was solo going - but they where under attack, and he'd rather die trying to stop it that die watching it happen, so he marched into battle.

the first clue tht he wasn't soloing was a nudge, like a sixth sence to dodge, and when he did, the errant blast form on of the other pilots cut thoughwhere he'd been. the radio cracked to life with apogies,a nd he sniped back and kept fighting.

it must be azirpahel - he figured out finally, and he followed a usggestion to strick,a nd he mad connection with the kaiji, sendong it stumbling back into a blow from one of hte other jagears. the other pilot was there, but he was almost comeplty silanced by crolwey. reduced to s asubconsious co-pilot.

a mind that could be comepltely swamped to essentially give the other pilot comeplree control. no teamwork nessisary. like an on board computer ready give suggetions, but no ability to manevous itself.

this wasn't a drift. this was a subjication. and he'd worry about the moraility of it later.

and worry he did. onec htey got back to base - the other three host poilots where already ready for them to dismbark. the all looked so solemn. corlwye wondered if they planned to dump his body somewhere to keep him from making a fuss. crolwey had turned to watch azripahle when they returned - the man mirroring his movements on automation, once wonderoudsly expressive face comepletely blank. like death.

even as he stepped out of the harness, azripahle said nothing. his head remained bowed down, gaze stubbronly othe floor and gabril stepped between them. croalwy wasnted to puthi sother arm in a cast. gabreil spoke in a low voice to his man, as metatron gestured for corwey to follow him. he went, but he did not shcool his face, letting the team leader know exactly how mush he disapproved.

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Day 159 - 1072 words - Prompt: drift compatable

the cruel part of him saw why they laughed - azirphale looked so uncormfortable on the mat. He'd clearly had to borrow someone'd gi - it was a bit too snug around the middle, to tight in the shoulders, to long int he legs. Immedtiatly, crolwey knew this was a bad idea. what's worse, he didn't know if this was a munishment for him or his opponantly. his teammates watched on with open malice in their faces.

crowley wanted to cal the whole thing off. which - might be worse.

azirpahle had no idea how to hold the staff, alternating between too low or too high. but what was frustrating is crolwey could see by his grip that he wasn't unskilled. he clearly knew how to handle some form of weaspon. his movements - while awtrful for the staff, clearly indicated a training somwhere.

and maybe the standard was staff - and it was crlwey's best weapon too - but te strugging angel across from him has a complete novice.

"Have you ever held a staff before?" he blurted, not meaning to sound as unkind as it came out, and the man winced, head bowed. showing differnace to corlwey - deafeated already.

what was worse was the laughter.... from his own team. he was suppostable drift compatable with all four of them - and yet....

something was rotten in eaden.

crowley has ready to walk away, not wanting this humiliation do go on, when sadnelphon opened his mouth, "look at him - it's like a dumbpling on a stick."

Azirpahle just looked missarable. the other pilots in the room alternated between snickering and looking uneasy. but the Host ran this station, and to call them out was carrer suiside. corlwey studdied his oppantnet for amoment, beofe a spark on insteration hit him.

he took his own staff in hand, studing it for amoment, before turning to swing it with all his might at a support beam. the room was quicet minis the lingering snap from the wood. he could feel the dumbfounded lookde fromt he gathereed group as he inspected the broken edge. it was a fairly clean break between the leather grips, and he jab the splintered edge ont he metal ground to knock loose hte splinters and dull the jagged edges. it wasn't as clean down the middle as he'd of licked, but it was uncomprimed at the grib. he flipped it around, leather wrapping to his opponent.

"Wanna trade?"

he knew he'd mad the right call when instead of being offeneded, the poor bastard looked calm. he took the broken piece, hadning his full staff to crolwey and studdied the piece. when he took his possition this time, he held himself upright, sturdy, standing in profile to corlwey with a two handed grip at the base.

this was the sparring corlwey was looking for - two mismatched weapons, two comepltely different styles, and both comepleltey at ease. well - almost at ese. colwey could tell the poorly fit uniform was holding Azripahle back - but it wasn't neough to give crolwey the andvantage. they matched each other blow to blow, neither gaining ground. azirpahle fought with someone intimate with a short blade, a pure extention of themselves, without the flashy work corlwey was used to seeing.

the quiet that had fallen had grown to cheering now - all save for the other Host pilots - each being encrouaged equally byt he group. it was the most fun corlwey had ever had ont he mat, and he could see that shy smile on azirpahle face - and he knew it was the same. it led him to being more play ful with his hits, and azirpahle chased beatufully, evolving into less of a spar and more of a true dance. but crolwey had one more trick up his sleeve. it was a massive risk - it could back fire horribly.

but... but the gi was horrible, and limiting, and he could tell azirpahle lacked the range of motion to really show what his sill set was. so crowley struck - so very carefully. Azirpahel stepped aside to avoid the blow, but that's not what crowley was attempting to do, and the staff passed easy betwen the layers of the gi, tangling in the borrowd uniform, and hitting the strainged seams head on. the threads gave way, and crowley's staff was now runing thouhg the garmet.

the fight paused, the group chuckling as azirpahle one handed inspeced the now trapped staff, looking bewindered at whatthat was supposted to be. the gi was compramised - and more twisteing would continie to break the seam s- it might even damage the fabric itself. it seemed to him like the match was over now.

someone in the onlookers whicteled, another yelled [servatiosly] 'take it off!' corlwey just shrugged, and smiled. Azirpahle moved to untie to belt - only intending to loosen the uniform eough to remove the staff - assuming the event was over. instead, as soon as he did, there was enoughter wolf-whicstle, and someone commented, asking who had the singles?

crowley was watching him carefully, and when azirpahle turned to look at him impourously, he shrugged again, motioning for his own belt. "I'll drop mine too " he panted, grinning, "wanna keep going?"

he could feel gabreils eyes boring into his skull. the Host believed themselves above such displayes, and he knew quite well what they thought of him, and his physic. they wouldn't appprove.

but... but this was hte mst alive he'd felt in.. in years. he wasn't ready to wrap it up nad go back to being shoved along wher ever his co-pilot needed him that day; often hidden in some back room out of sight and alone.he wasn't smart like the real Host pilots - he knew his place. but.. but jsut for this little bot....

he nodded to crolwey, and took of the borrowed gi. he could /hear/ sandelphons snear from across the room - but colryw didn't bat an eye. even the other pilots - they get right on carring on. the fact that he wasn't fit and scupleted like them didn't seem to matter at all at the moemnt. corlwey took of his own gi - looking much more like the extpected build of a pilot - if perhaps to lanky, and azripahle handed him back the staff that had been cuahgt in his uniferom before both tops where tossed aside. pickign up him imporomptly made 'sword', azripahel fell back into possition.

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Day 158 - 832 words - Prompt: drift compatable

crowley did not like the air of this new station. The MorningStar Hoard had trained him well, and he had evern mark of being a good poilot - but corley didn't .. Mess.. Well with the rest of the poilots. And when it caming to poiloting jeagers - that was a major problem. in a pinch, he could do his job with an eric if something came up and the trio needed to be split up 0- but the experance left him feeling sleaazy. all three of the boys minds let him overrid theirs too easily, and he hard the feeling. drift was supposted to balance two minds - not completely overwhealm on and submit them to you will.

Morningstar also had more poilots then they had suits, so crolwey was lent to other stations under the guize of looking for a co-pilot for him ... whiel the had him doing busy work and repairs in the mean time. and of course - his pay was sent back to Morningstar. there was also the concern that he was being sent to spy on the other stations - though corlwey had no idea why anyone would be that parinoid. Edean Station - unoffically run by the Celstian Hosts - had grilled him for hours when he'd first arrived, demanding to know what the Haord was playing at.

corlwey had answered them honestly, if Lucifer asked him about the Station, crolwey would tell him honestly, but the man wasn't about to go snoopping. if there was a sinerser reason corlwey had been cent here - he had no idea about it. the fight was eith the kaiji - not the other stations.

he really hated the Host.

he'd come across their pilots at other stations, and hadn't thought to highly of them then either. The Host prided themselves on the most flexable jobs fo piolts. crolwey wasn't sure of the nitty gritty - but the short end of it was they had the largest pool of compatable pilots ont he planet. there was never an excuse for one of their working suit not to be in the thick of things - if a single pilot was kille dot injured - they always had a fresh piolt to sync up and go. any base with a host suit had an extra pilot at all times.

this base's extra man was codenamed Azirpahle.

oh, and that - all Host piolts got some kind of symolic angel name when they becaem a pilot. corlwey thought it was pretentios as fuck. Edean station had two suits, the five pilots being the Station leader Metatron, and his brother Sandelphon, and the second in command, Micheal and/or Gabriel. Honestly, crolwey was not sure which of them was acutally the second man. grabril was vocal enough and liked to give orders enough for it to be him. but micheal had this air of supurioirty that people did her bidding at a glance, no owrds needed. it was a kind of power that mad him wonder just where in the pecking order she actually was.

he wouldn't be surpised if he actually gave all the orders, metarton just being the fall guy.

and then there was Azirpahle. he must be one hell of a backup poiolt, becuase you culd not get faurthor fromt he hallow smiles of his co-piolts.

he was only as tall as sandelphone, tied for the smallest stature of the group. but while hte other four stood head high, snearing down their noses, azispahle would cock his head and study you for a moent - eye contact not as a measure of domince for a quationing look as he studied you. his hand shake was firm, but persoanlbe - not the limp wrist of micheal and metatpoin, or the too hard grasp of someone with something to proove like gabriel and sandephone. he'd clasp you hand with boht of his if his crew man wehren't around, and the smile would like up the room.

crowley hadn't seen his piloting skills yet, but he was looking forward to the change to spar with him for his entry evaluations. it was common eough pratcie, when looking for combatability, and as a free agent, crolwey went though the gauntnat each and every time he was enrolled at a new station. it was an excerzize in finding out who clicked wiht who on a subconciously level - and it ofen left corlwey with more bruises than protentionan co-pilots.

so it was a clear disapointemnt that he went though a week of sparing, and nevr once did the fith wheel of the host step forward. it was a week of ass beating both ways,a nd not a single pilot that he connected with. it was more out of frustation than anything else when corlwey pointed out after he'd run the list of the rest of the base, was he going to spar with the last Host pilot, or where htey keeping im for themselves?

sadnelphon had openly laughed at him -