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alpharight · 10 years

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Despite Lucien's almost overwhelming need to touch, there were only two points of contact between them - his head on his shoulder and the wrist he obsessively monitored Loren's pulse with. It was very much a coping mechanism taught to him by his father - a way to reinsert reality after a nightmare. It had become to him a crutch, after their first Drift, a way of assuring himself, something he desperately craved as the adrenaline fled his system and weariness seeped in, as the sedates begun to take their full effect.

He kept the distance between them out of fear and concern, both because of the possibility of Loren waking just as disoriented as before. Never, never outside of sparring, had he laid a hand on Lucien aggressively and though he knew Loren was not in his right state of mind, simply reacting, he felt justifiably cautious. At least, till he saw he was back.

Loren's pulse spiked and he jerked upright on the narrow bed. His own quickened and he felt the festering of panic, squeezing the wrist in his hand. When nothing changed, only his eyes moving a bit more rapidly beneath his eyelids, Lucien relaxed. He shifted on the bed, scooting back until he felt the cool metal of the headboard press against his back. He sagged against it and ran his free hand through his hair repeatedly, eventually drawing his knees to his chest to bury his face in them. His skin prickled in the cool air.

After a while, he gave up attempting to fight the sedative and curled even more into himself before falling into a light doze. He can’t do anything else; he’s functionally useless now that the fight is over and he hates that. Hates not being able to do more, hates, hates, hates that he couldn’t even protect his co-pilot, and hates that he can’t do anything about it, anything at all.

Something shifts on the bed and he is slow to react as it curls around him. For one sickening moment, he doesn’t know where he is and the warmth repulses him before he remembers where he was, who that is and he breathes. The fear is quickly replaced with relief that he’s awake, he’s fine now, and he shifts to accommodate Loren. “At least you remembered to brush your teeth this time.”

Prompt: FEAR ~ Loren & Lucien

The effects of Cujo continued to torment Loren even after he’d been sedated. The difference now, and the worst part probably, was that he couldn’t move. He had no control over his own body and now he felt lethargic. It brought on another wave of panic. He wasn’t aware that he was safe, that he was within the security of the shatterdome and being cared for and watched over. In his mind, he was alone and trapped in a strange limbo brought on by a feeling of detachment from his own body and the liquid he’d been injected with.

He was still, lying horizontal in the emptiness and that noise. There were voices surrounding him, loud, unintelligible and muffled, almost like there was cotton in his ears. He wanted to reach for them to check, to be sure, and if there was cotton, remove it. His body refused to react to what his mind was telling it, his arms stubbornly remaining at his sides. The time ticked by at a frustratingly slow pace, and seconds turned into minutes and minutes dragged into hours and hours lasted for days - all in the span of several seconds. Three, to be exact.

The sound was back, the predatory snarl he’d heard earlier, and he tensed. Finally! Some sort of reaction - any reaction - brought him hope again. Unfortunately, that was all he’d managed. Prowling, slithering, sliding. He heard the sounds. It was heavy, trilling an almost clicking noise that set him on edge. He didn’t know it, but his breathing intensified, his pulse quickened, and he bit his tongue. Accidentally, of course, but again, he was disconnected from himself. The chittering continued, both uncomfortably near and chillingly encompassed in the depths of darkness. He felt warm breath on his neck, goosebumps prickling along his skin and it was so close. It was taunting him, hovering, stalking.

But whatever it was didn’t exist. He knew this. Slowly, oh so slowly, he was regaining his senses. He was asleep. He had no clue what had happened before, but somehow he’d transferred from being held captive in his mind to knowledge that he was experiencing a lucid dream. This happened enough that he could stop it, could destroy the thing, the nightmare and the incessant terror.

Inhale. There was no monster. Exhale. He wasn’t trapped. Inhale. It wasn’t real. Exhale. There is no disconnection. Inhale. He could move his fingers. Exhale. Wake up.

He opened his eyes, blinking furiously as they watered at the sudden bright light. They slowly adjusted and he was struck by another wave of nausea from the disconcerting feeling of not knowing where he was. It was the beeping of the medical equipment beside his bed that alerted him to where he was, and he was freezing. The warmth of Lucien beside him drew his attention, and he couldn’t help curling into him once he realised he was there. He was exhausted despite having slept and he just felt… pathetic.

"I think I left the cap off of the toothpaste."

Brilliant. Of all the things he could’ve questioned about what had happened, the first thing to come to mind was that insignificant little detail. He’d also left the tele on.

#T: Fear #loren devereux #fuck fuck FUCKITY FUCK FUCK #i h8 everything #wow this took forever and i suck #da end

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alpharight · 10 years

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#loulou #whoops #going to be posting tonight wow #hate school

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alpharight · 10 years

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His oxygen was uncompromised. He was fine, he was fine, he was fine - but Loren was not. Loren was not and before he could activate the failsafes, he felt how not fine Loren was. Saw, overlapped with reality, what he saw - or, at least, how he registered it. Felt confusion, caution and worry; felt hostility from somewhere, bafflement and disorientation. They were out of sync and yet not.

Lucien activated the failsafes. They were both kicked from the bridge, their connection severed without ceremony, and Loren collapsed. Something lodged in his throat and he tried to lunge, to catch him. He was jerked to an abrupt halt, his right arm and leg pulled in the opposite direction, and the left side of the rig was now a barrier separating Loren from him. He tore himself out of it, disconnecting with little finesse, and likely causing severe damage in his need to get to Loren. He didn't care. Finally fucking free, he stumbled, near fell in the small space he had to cross, and with shaking hands began the same process of disconnecting Loren, wanting nothing more than to yank him out of it with his bare hands - the only thing stopping him was the fear of hurting him. Loren shouted and he froze, then continued, with even more haste, spurred on by his fear, by Loren's. "Loren, Loren, Loren," Who couldn't hear him, who couldn't hear him, who wasn't responding. "I'm right here, I'm here." He caught him and clung. "It's okay! You're fine, I'm here, I'm here."

On the floor of the Conn-Pod, he wrapped himself around Loren and clung, clutching to a groove of armor and, after throwing away the helmet, twined in Loren's hair. He nuzzled his scalp. "Ssh, it's okay, it's okay.." He rocked and tightened his grip, cradled him closer until he felt Loren return the embrace and he sagged into him. A hand brushed his face and he hummed. Loren pulled away and he could have fell, had he not clutched to his head. "Lo-Loren?" Loren blindly starred at Lucien and - "What's wrong?" Is he hurt? He's hurt and Lucien hadn't noticed. He ran his hands over the hard plains of the suit and it wasn't effective, he couldn't tell aside from the appearance of any blood if he was injured. The hands turned into claws and shoved. He fell back, shoulder banging against something and another something stabbed against his side; he couldn't feel it, the tingling and pain. "Loren! LOREN!" He tried to get closer, tried to catch his hands but nails bit into his face and bounced off of his drivesuit.

Distantly, he heard the sounds of shouts from tinny speakers and then, first muffled then not, the running step of people. "Loren! Listen to me! I'm RIGHT HERE! STOP, it's okay! Please!" Other people, other hands touched Loren and he could have spit at them, would have shielded Loren away from them, but he knew that they were only trying to help and that's all that mattered. "Don't-..don't hurt him, please." And help, help him.

They managed to restrain him long enough for one of them to jab him with a sedative then they continued to hold him, probably to stop him from hurting himself, but more likely to not him from hurting anyone else. Lucien clutched his arm and, when he was calm enough, cushioned his head on his thigh. He felt sick.

A gurney was brought in and Lucien helped transfer him to it, helped the techs remove his suit but refused to allow them to stop him to remove his own. “No, no, it’s fine, whatever. I need to stay - I can’t, I can’t leave him.” He would have resorted to begging, had they not have been experienced with handling co-pilots, and so they allowed him to accompany the gurney down to medical. There he was separated and he almost lost it, almost resorted to violence because he needed to be with Loren, couldn't leave him by himself. But they injected him, too, with sedative (but not as strongly as they did Loren) and he could only struggle weakly as they fought to remove to strip and re-dress him. The routine burns were treated quickly, the minor scratches on his face cleaned and he was ripping himself out of their care (their hands), moving towards Loren.

Loren, who was still heavily, heavily sedated and who was laid out on a hospital bed. Lucien needed to touch him. Carefully, quickly, he crawled in the bed, laying on his side and almost off the edge. He held his wrist, thumb against a sluggish vein, pressed his forehead against his shoulder, and breathed.

Prompt: FEAR ~ Loren & Lucien

Cujo was down, they’d made completely certain of that, and the instruments reading for signs of life calmed and tapered off to silence. They had done their job, Lucien and Loren, and it was the quiet following the intensity of battle that was the most uncertain. There was the relief, they were both alive and well, considering they had just risked their lives and that of those who lived in and around the Honolulu shatterdome. The anxiety was also present, the worry for others, the Blue, the island. They lived on active volcanoes, it made sense for them to be cautious.

When Alpha turned around, away from the carcass of the fallen beast, they saw people. People of different ages and heights, of different nationalities and cultures, with different clothing and experiences and personalities. Unique. But on the faces of them all was a single look, a look of accusation, of fear, of hatred. They reeled back, away from them, glancing away briefly just to watch where they stepped. They didn’t need to be responsible for mass homicide because they accidentally crushed a few people who were reckless enough to be underfoot. Glancing up again, they had the disconcerting feeling of standing in a room of mirrors. Instead of people, it was Loren, and it was Lucien, and they were still being glared at. That accusation. But what had they done? Loren glanced right, Lucien left, and all they saw was themselves. Heaps of them. Thousands upon thousands. A sea of people that were them, as far as the eye could see and blotting out any point of reference. They weren’t even sure where the Pacific ended and the dopplegangers began.

They refused to move, and so they stood, frozen. Unwilling to harm a single hair on any of these… these… well, they looked far too similar. Green eyes. Blue eyes. And then eyes were all they saw. Unblinking, glaring. There weren’t any more faces, just gaze upon gaze and green mixed with blue into a murky hazel. Hands covered their own eyes; they needed to shut it out, to make it stop. A light brush against skin, and then prickly, tingly. Gripping. They hadn’t opened their eyes, but they could feel them, the fingers, the hands, everywhere and nowhere all at once. Vice-like, pulling, hurting. One of them - or was it both? - made a noise of discomfort. There was an overwhelming sense of nausea and dizziness. Loren felt his knees buckle, heard his name, reached out toward the sound, but where Lucien was meant to be, he wasn’t.

Shocked into opening his eyes, he was blinded by pure, white light and he threw his hands up to cover his face, unused to the brightness. There was nothing else, just white, white, white, even the noise. The silence was deafening, and he shrieked for Lucien, but no sound came out. Alonealone. This wasn’t good, he felt cold all over, and fear surrounded him. A black hollowness that started as tiny, tiny tendrils that curled around his fingers. He held them out to watch them, fascinated and terrified at the same time, and then it was everywhere. Sticking, clinging, suffocating. He couldn’t see anymore because of the black. He was shivering, and he suddenly wished for the bright white again instead of this. The nothingness was the same, but in the dark it felt veiled. Something was out there, and it was hiding. Hiding, hiding, searching, writhing, hunting.

The ground fell away from him and he pitched forward, but, strangely, it wasn’t a sense of falling that made him panic. It was the weightlessness. Again he called for Lucien, he was all he had. He was there, he knew he was there, he could feel him. Where was he, where was Lou?

Loren finally stopped falling - was that what it even was? He regained his balance, and he was still on the ground from when he’d fallen before. If there had been others around, if Lucien was near, he would’ve at least tried to get up with a bit of composure, but seeing as he was alone and fucking confused and seemingly cut off from the world, he only leant forward and pressed his hands against the floor. He needed to feel it, make sure it was there, and then he heard it. Knocking metal, sliding metal, tearing, crumpling, shredding metal. He still couldn’t see, but he could hear. There were voices, and there was another sound, like growling, heavy panting, whining. He tried to crawl away, to hide, but he was being restrained. He couldn’t get very far and what was holding him?

He was being clung to, and he instinctively responded likewise. It was familiar, warm, comforting. He wrapped himself into the embrace, slumping heavily against the shoulder and pressed his face into the neck. He needed this, the contact, the soothing. He brought a hand up slowly to trace his fingertips against the jaw and further up onto the face, the cheek. But something was wrong. There was no definition. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong. He pulled away so he could use both of his hands to feel the face and… nothing. No cheekbones, no lips, nose, hollows for eyes, anything, and he was suddenly stricken with the need to get away again. He strugged against the hold that he’d found comforting just a short while ago, pressed against the torso, felt his nails tear at skin and - he was free. He was free, but he was still a mess, crying out for someone who wasn’t there (which made no sense, he could still feel Lou, his panic, his distress. It exacerbated his own).

His skin crawled, like it was on fire, and though he’d only recently gotten free, he was seized by more hands and he was restrained. He fought them, violently kicking and twisting, but that only made their hold stronger, tighter, and he found it harder for him to struggle. His movements were getting slower, his limbs heavy, and in the back of his mind he knew he should calm down and accept it, but the more prominent part of him was very much afraid, and he didn’t want it to end like this. What was happening to him? Why was he alone? What had happened to Lucien? Lucien. Lucien. Lucien. Lucien. Lou…

#AHAHAH THIS IS SO LONG #t: fear #loren devereux

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alpharight · 10 years

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Whoah, is it...all right?

Are you sure someone had done it purposefully? Could've been an accident, y'know. Are there any other cats around the 'dome?

If I find out who broke my cat’s leg I swear to christ I’ll drive a Jaeger myself to beat the living shit out of you.

#c: ella #derp derp a derp sorry this is so boring Dx #and that it took so long #school is AWFUL IT'S SO GROSS

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alpharight · 11 years

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He had resisted turning back around when the brain reacted, figuring it would have not been in his interest to put his back to her, but he nearly regretted not doing so at Katherine's open display of disgust. He barely managed not to cringe in the face of it.

"I'm fine, excellent even, thanks." Lucien laced his fingers together in front of him, to stop himself from touching anything else, and took a step to the side, away from the glass container. See that was weird, very very weird, why had he one that?

"What?" Startled out of his head, it took him a moment to realise she said something. It took him another second to hear what it was. He quickly shook his head. "Oh, no, no nothing like that, just a pilot. I was just - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Another step away from the glass.

"Are you a scientist? Er, well, obviously you are," Lucien surreptitiously glanced around, wondering where she had come from. It wasn't like he could have missed someone watching him, as careful as he was to avoid it; here he thought he was doing a good job. "Coat and all..." Back to her, he grinned sheepishly and gestured to her get-up absently. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally this preoccupied. Or rude, I shouldn't be in here huh?"

not a science | ay, doc

Katherine raised her eyebrows at his stammering and bright red face, she titled slightly to peer around him at the glass jar - seeing a dormant Kaiju brain floating in green-yellowish fluid.

"Yes?" She was prepping a ‘you shouldn’t be here’ speech, because those were always fun and she was trying to practice her mean face and being more assertive.

The tentacle slapped up onto the grass, causing Katherine to jerk backwards, her mouth dropping open in shock. Her face screwed up in disgust. Kaiju’s were nasty. She never would understand those who tattooed the beasts on their skin.

"I’m fabulous…" Katherine said, her eyes focusing on the floating organ behind him, "What are you? Some type of brain surgeon for aliens?"

#t: not a science #katherine durand

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alpharight · 11 years

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i've spent years honing my violent dance | alpha centauri

Status: Closed

Kaiju name: Cujo

Category VI

Rangers included: Loren Devereux and Lucien Amadi

Location: Necker Island

Loren, on the other hand, was probably doing what could arguably be the best thing prior to a kaiju alarm. He had been in the Kwoon room for nearly half an hour, enough to get his blood pumping but not enough for his forehead to be covered with more than a very light sheen of sweat. The shrill sound pierced through his concentration and in less than half a second, he had tensed and frozen, panicked at not being near Lucien, and about-faced in a single movement. He tossed aside his training gear, giving no thought of putting them up correctly as he usually would have done, with immaculate care and consideration of the weaponry and machinery he was encouraged to make use of. He was running then, to Lucien and to be geared up, his steps light and quick, ducking underneath this person's arm and side-stepping countless others making a mess of the route he'd taken to get there. He was quite proud of the fact that he hadn't collided into anyone because that would've only slowed him down, and blast anyone who dared get in his way.

It was one of the few routes Loren made himself learn by heart. His late-night escapades may have seemed like aimless wandering on his part by any bystander who may have come across him, but really he was memorising the many different ways to get to the drivesuit room. Ask him how to get to any other place, however, and he would probably direct you to a nearby wash closet than the recreation room. As it was, he made it on location in just a handful of precious moments, and the immediate question on his lips as he threw himself into the room was, "Lou?"

Little thought went into Lucien's path as he ducked and wove his way through the hallways as nearly everyone who paid attention to the stats scrambled for a gas mask. It made him only run that much faster, as a certain kind of horrified nausea rolled in his stomach. It reminded him of Scarecrow, the comic book-movie villain, of all the inappropriate thoughts to be having at the moment. He fell into the room, stumbling to a halt before the techs. "Here," His voice was slightly raised to be heard over the din and his head was tilted up, angled towards the privacy partition dividing the room.

Heavy relief flooded Loren's face at Lucien's immediate reply, and it even reflected in the slight lessening of the tension in his shoulders as he fell into step with his co-pilot. His heart thundered in his chest and the noise in his head was a nightmare, but as his clothing was removed and replaced with the drivesuit, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing all of it to fall back into a dull roar. Exhale. He was only a small part of the commotion. Inhale. He wasn't overwhelmed anymore. Exhale. He could hear several conversations at once, but didn't linger on any. Inhale. Cujo is exceedingly fast and moves in an unforeseen manner, almost like a land mammal. Exhale. Isn't nearly as intelligent. Inhale. Emits a toxic gas instilling terrifying fear. Exhale. They're counting on us.

Despite it being their job, Lucien nearly refused to allow the techs to strip and dress him. He couldn't handle it; he would fight (do his duty, protect) for these people gladly but he wouldn't - couldn't, not just now - trust them. Something screamed in him, naturally repulsed by them for no disconcernable reason and they were touching him. They batted away his hands and he inhaled, sharp and shallow, as his skin prickled and no. Focus; out. In, out, focus. Disconnect. Cujo; estimated to be twice the size and thrice the weight. In. Erratic movements, most similar to a mammal than reptilian. Despite name, Cujo was a dog and dogs are rather intelligent, is not. K-Science sure that he is a precursor for future Kaiju - would this be to exclude all of his predecessors weaknesses? Dovetail joints, rather than ball-and-sockets? Avoid aquatic battle - might have advantage in water despite appearing to have an advantage once on land. Out. They were touching him. In, out. The moment their hands were away, Lucien was getting as far from them as he could - driven to Alpha less because of the situation (that's selfish and he hates that but he can't, literally physically can not) and more because of the isolation and safety it offered.

Loren was glad for the quick work of getting them suited up; he could practically feel Lucien's abhorrence in spite of his outward calm. Despite himself, and the fact that it would throw off his mediation, he snuck a quick peek at Lou. He hadn't been like this in Argentina. His right shoulder prickled with the pins-and-needles effect as if he'd slept on it wrong, but it was only because he'd seen the hand clutching Lucien's shoulder for the briefest of moments. He'd wanted to swat it away, eyes nearly narrowing into slits. Don't touch him. The moment they were ready, he was moving. He needed to see Alpha, and hadn't properly done anything with her except the required drills in what-if scenarios during simulated training. That wasn't the same. Alpha was home, and that was what engulfed him as he stepped into the con-podd and subsequently, the footholds.

The countdown to the neural handshake felt like it lasted longer than it did, but once the drift was made it was like no time had passed at all since their last bridge. Lilac, cold alonealone, dust, a pair of glasses and an old, abused clipboard, replacements, an endearing accent. It had taken all of two seconds, if rounding. The threat of Cujo had everyone moving in hyperdrive, and being hooked up to the Jumphawks was finished in record time.

Tersely, while en route, they were - again - informed of the situation by LOCCENT; Cat VI, noxious gas emitted which is to be avoided inhaling at all costs, and, lit up on their instruments, was a fisher trawler, just off the coast of Ni’ihau. Ice in their veins settled heavily on them, ending at a cold, frozen pit in the centre of their being. “Doesn’t take priority, guys, don’t worry about it.” Don't worry about it. How can they tell them to not worry about it? ‘Priority’, the kaiju takes priority. There was no priority; everyone matters. Several hundred over a handful, maybe twelve. But that doesn't mean they can't lure it away from them. Lure it away from both? Would fulfill mission requirements and keep Cujo from breaching Miracle Mile (was Ni’ihau a population centre?-No.-Had thought...-Nope.)

The Mile approached quickly, and while there was apprehension, which was normal, the want to subdue Cujo overpowered that emotion, also normal. Determination, especially when it came to luring the kaiju away from the populated islands. Fierce protectiveness; everyone. Matters. “Disengaging Hawks,” and Alpha Centauri dropped.

Touchdown was a splash and a terrible, expected, jolt to their knees [and stomachs] as the Jaeger absorbed impact. Though it screamed at Lucien (and Loren) in the peripheral of their vision, they ignored the boat and sloshed instead through the waters, sinking from knee to waist as they trod through the waters towards the approaching signature. This was not disobedience; they were not prioritising anything above the kaiju - and that priority happened to include luring it as far, far away as possible. The less people affected by the toxin, the better. Logical.

Alpha's instruments struggled to pinpoint Cujo's location, but it was clear where his destination lay. As one, Loren and Lucien moved to intercept his course and, as was only courteous, greet it. With a clip unloaded into it's face. Cujo reeled, but recovered far too quickly for it to have been effective. It roared and, just as intended, began the charge after the Jaeger, the threat. They ran - putting as much distance between the Kaiju and the city as they could but also, foolishly, baring their back for the briefest of moments to the beast. Loren! It was enough time for the thing to plaster itself across their back, slamming them down face-first. Fuckshitfuck! Cujo thrashed, claws sinking deep into the armour plates and yanking, catching and snagging on anything and everything. It slobbered and drooled, acid issuing from its mouth much like the dog it was named after and Lucien (and Loren) knew they needed to get free, [hothot burning scorching electrics, overheating] as quickly as possible, before either they sunk to the bottom of the Pacific or before Cujo’s claws and acid breached their hull. Loren (and Lucien) grit his (their) teeth, twisted and attempted to pivot, and finalfuckingly they were able to displace the kajiu and use it's own weight to reverse their positions, holding fast, Alpha’s fingers locking into place.

They were running out of torque and they could only brace themselves for when they finally did. Less intelligence seemed to mean more animosity, and Cujo slithered out of their grasp, turning immediately around to snap back at them. Alpha didn't break the surface so much as she was heaved up, soaring through the air only to crash back down just shy of the Necker island coastline. Cujo followed. Barely managing to scramble to it's feet in time, she caught and, veering, released (one - or both - of them roared) him into the bluffs behind her.

Though not nearly as quick as the kaiju they were facing, Alpha was swift, even through the water. They bounded at Cujo, and vice versa, it's body moving sinuously, as if it were made for land battle - which probably was the case. Bracing themselves, Alpha deployed the Chinese Fighting fans [brilliant equipment, despite the looks of bemusement of others when told of them], and they chinked into place. Impact was imminent, coming in at three miles. Two miles. One. Alpha sprang up, ready to attack, and before either Lucien or Loren could react, Cujo reared up at them. Instinct made them lash out, the fans already heated to scorching, and slashed through the belly of the kaiju, Blue showering everything, but not before the noxious gas, thick and concentrated, slowly began corrugating through the metal of Alpha. Contracting, warping. Instinctively, they spun and brought up a leg for a jump spin hook kick aimed at it’s snarling head, the addition of the turbo thruster giving it more momentum, and then they were facing it, raising their other leg, knee nearly flushing Alpha’s chest, and kicking Cujo square in the chest, just above the gash the fans had given it. As it fell backwards, Lucien and Loren were finally able to stop and regroup, the circuitry surging with energy and static from the operating systems of the Conn, burning, electric. [I’m... okay - me too] But the worry was still there, the pain unfluctuating either better or worse, just a consistent wave of heat. The screens were flickering intermittently, but at least they still had contact with LOCCENT.

During the whole exchange, they made certain to keep an eye on the kaiju, but they were unprepared for the tail to whip around and knock them forward. And then everything seemed to happen in fast-forward. It latched onto Alpha’s left arm [shitshitshit], and they curled inward, dragging it closer to them so they could thrust their right knee into it’s gut, targeting the wound they’d already dealt it. It released the arm and subsequently attached to their back. Immediately leaning forward to displace it, they followed, manoeuvring it into yet another precipice. Alpha launched, turbo jets adding to their speed until they full-on collided with Cujo, the display of their battle fans doing well to confuse it before they heated one and sliced through the thick skin from throat to ribcage. It was almost hide-like, tough and leathery, and it shrieked at them, eyes wild like a cornered animal with jaws bared. They weren’t going to let it get them a second time, two hits of the gas and they were done for - the acid that had dripped on them from before, coupled with the face damage, continued to eat away and warp Alpha, and damn everything from high heaven to the endless depths of hell, it was painful. Alpha was one of the lucky ones, having so far managed to keep all of her limbs and original armour. Loren and Lucien weren’t used to this kind of unrelenting discomfort and distress.

Cujo swung at them; Alpha feinted, twisting to match any blow the damned kaiju could throw at them, switching between offense and defence with a regularity that they didn’t even need to communicate with each other: they just knew. Simultaneously, they grounded Alpha, twin yells permeated with adrenalin, and they succeeded in unbalancing it, the kaiju only bent on gnashing, clawing, to care about how it came at them. They took the opportunity, retracting the fan from the right arm and powering up the plasmacaster. Unison. Locked aim on the source of the Blue. It was charging at them again. Barely within reach, the remaining fan flashed out, slicing clean through Cujo's face, which gave time for them to fire thrice, each time destroying more of the kaiju's middle until it slowed down, teetering dangerously on it's stubby hind legs. Blue combined with burning orange, and before it could even slump, Lucien/Alpha/Loren plunged their right arm in through Cujo's stomach until it met solid. Grasping, fingers encircling, they pulled, twisting their wrist as the colossal being fell away from them, bone shattering in their grip. Spinal tap.

#kaiju: cujo #alphaba #kaiju battle

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alpharight · 11 years

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The many workstations Lucien avoided; particularly the ones that had scientists and technicians all clustered around them but that didn't mean he did not at least glance at what they were doing. All he saw were jars of Kaiju Blue and - were they testing them? Testing the acidic and corrosive properties that sprung up in the higher categories? As curious as he was, he did not risk a closer look to disrupt their work.

Skirting around one of the containers of Kaiju parts, his attention got caught by the readouts of the machine connected to it. The pallium of a... looked to be a Cat VI? V? partially still attached to the optic lobe. That tended to be the first thing to deteriorate, the optic lobe, after death. However, it did not seem reacting. Lucien bent over the small monitor attached and...hesitated. This wasn't his lab. This wasn't his Kaiju brain. This wasn't anything belonging to him and therefore he had no rights to touch anything involving it. What was he doing? He glanced up and...no one seemed to have noticed him. Still did not give him de facto rights to do as he pleased.

Lou, no, no touchy. Nodding to himself, he turned and quickly backed away from the container as to not be tempted to disturb it further. He circled the room, his hands flitting over the unused equipment as though he liked nothing better than to pick up a scalpel and cut into some of the specimens. In Argentina, he had made himself at home in the K-labs; here, he treaded on eggshells.

Somehow, in his circuit, he ended up exactly back where he had retreated from - the brain. All right, he wouldn't touch the control panel - but there was no harm in touching the glass, was there? Lucien rapped his nails against it lightly, drumming out a faint rhythm that, before it got too elaborate, was interrupted. "Ah!" Jumping and spinning around, he stared, wide-eyed, at Katherine. Oh, shit he shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have touched it, bad Lou, bad bad fuckity mcfuck fuckfuck. "Uh..erm," Going beet red, he cleared his throat and...one of the tentacles of the brain hit the glass behind him, almost mimicking the beat he had drummed. He broke out in a grin and shook his head. "Nope, not at all. I'm good, you?"

not a science | ay, doc

Katherine preferred working with the Med team. It usually was more her style anyways, but that didn’t mean she didn’t float between the departments - going where she was needed most. This, to her dismay, put her in the K-Science labs.

They had wanted to create something using Kaiju blue, of course, the stuff is scary toxic and gross and acidic as hell. They hoped to create something out of it - anything defensive. Katherine was put on that team. It was all theoretical since they didn’t have anything to physically work with. Not until they found a way to handle the blue stuff safely.

After spending some time in the labs, she got to know the personnel quickly for the sake of being effective and getting back to her own work. It didn’t take her long to catch someone new lurking about (and he wasn’t wearing a lab coat). She set down her pencil, her notebook for this project was full of chemical bonds and hypothetical experiments.

She waited until she could slip away and sneak behind him. Katherine knew who he was (thank you, obligatory reading of all pilot medical files.) and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Can I help you?" She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. Katherine had been watching him - she doubted he was here for any specific reason. Maybe Kaiju guts turned him on. Who knows.

#katherine durand #t: not a science #sorry sorry this took me a while #school was killing me #lou no don't poke the brain #lou no that's weird

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