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#sorry for info dumping abt them they just make me kick my feet in the air like a little girl they're so goofy :]
cherrirui-official · 3 months
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I FORGOT TO POST THESE HERE!!! But please take the sillies that i did a while back while i work on other art stuff!
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feckyeswriting · 6 years
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Simplify - an Eris Fic
For @nimadge
Thank you for being amazing and even more so thanks for giving me a bright spot during all the hectic busy-ness of moving <3
I loved getting to cover this prompt. I hope you enjoy how it all came together. I know you just had all your exams, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just 100% studying anxiety all over again ^^  
How about Eric and Tris, relationship OR good working relationship with the possibility of more at least; she sees HIM studying something for once (for qualification exam or smth) and can help?  How would that go?
Made me think abt how Eric would take help/how harsh he is on himself, that sort of thing.  We never see him learning anything, after all
Simplify
“Do you need anything?”
Such a simple question. I looked up from my piles of notes and the guide book I was currently attempting to force into perfect recall. Seeing Tris there, a small smile tucked behind her lips, tempered the irritation that had been building all afternoon. There was a lot there bubbling under the surface.
“I know you work best alone, but if you need anything - a drink, something from the caf - just let me know,” she said.
I did my best to wrangle my expression into a smile. Her offer made it easy. It was well past the end of her shift. Tris didn’t need to be hanging around Leadership on her off hours. It meant all the more to me that she had.
“Thanks,” I replied simply.
Tris kissed her fingertips, pressing the two of them to my nameplate on the door. “I’m down the hall with Kyle,” she said before departing.
I felt my face fall as she turned and walked away. There was nothing I’d like more than to have gotten up and followed her. Instead, I sighed and flipped to the next blank page to take more notes. Committing to memory the new SOPs for calls had been easier than this drivel.
Qualifications - or quals - were the bane of my existence. And as Leader I was expected to stay ahead of as many of them as I could. At least we got to spread them out between Leaders. Between us, we had to understand what the Faction was capable of.
Sharp shooting and marksmanship quals were a favorite of mine and many of my fellows. They were straightforward; a combination of muscle memory and specific math formulas let you pass with flying colors usually. I’d been happy with the other quals I’d passed over the past two years.
Then the dust-up in Leadership had changed things. Not to speak ill of the very necessary changes that took place, it was a total pain in the ass to have to cover for the things that Max and the others had learned over the years. I’d fought tooth and nail to remain in place, accepting as earnestly as possible my culpability for letting… everything happen without question. That meant not complaining about covering two quals at once.
So, here I was in my office trying to convince my tired brain that learning every in and out of neurochemistry was a reasonable use of my time and efforts. I’d avoided the quals for fear testing initially because dammit I’d left Erudite to get away from reading academic texts.
Fate has a funny way of ignoring what we want in life.
I ran my hands through my hair and flipped to the next chapter. There were still a few more hours until I had time to sleep.
Every time that I blinked now I could swear I saw the diagrams from my notes on the insides of my eyelids. Fuck, that would have made things a lot easier if they were there. Instead I stared at the practice test question in front of me and fumed.
Describe the basic concepts behind the signals used to target the amygdala.
My pen tapped a staccato rhythm on my knee. I wanted to snap it in half. This was the first long form answer I was expected to answer. I had known it was going to come up.
The amygdala was only part of the brain triggered by the fear serum. There was also the thalamus and… and… Well, there were more. More that didn’t matter for this question. But all I could think about now was the damn sensory thalamus. Emotional stimulus - that was the first part of the series of triggers in the process - leading to further systemic triggers.
“That’s what it’s fucking asking, you idiot,” I growled to myself. “What are those triggers in the fuckin’ amygdala.” Still, no matter how long I stared at my measly four word reply, the less I could recall about the process. It didn’t matter how the synaptic sequence depended on a particular balance of ion channels, either, but that was what my mind decided to offer up next.
The process begins with
The process begins with
The process begins with- with what?
I flipped back to the earlier questions. I had more ‘return to answer’ arrows on each page than I’d remembered making. On the question asking to order the sequence of signals used by the serum I’d only marked off the first and last steps. Blank spaces stared at me unhelpfully, offering no insight into whether or not it was a neurotransmitter dump or an artificial channel blocker that could have been used in the amygdala.
My pen went across the room. This was absolutely ridiculous.
Next to me, Tris finally stirred. She screwed up her eyes against the light from my side lamp, but she sat up. “You’re still taking that thing?” she murmured. “What time is it?”
“Late,” I said. I ignored her first question; I’d blown way past my initial expectation of how long this stupid practice test was going to take.
She rubbed at her eyes and leaned heavily on the headboard. “You need to take a break,” Tris said simply.
I looked down at all the little black arrows on the pages and those stupid, stupid four words with nothing after them. “I can’t. I’m not done yet,” I replied.
“It’s- that can’t be right. It’s four am?” she said. She’d caught a glimpse of the alarm clock down by the foot of the bed. It was there so we couldn’t just slam the snooze button without moving. I’d been selectively ignoring it all evening. Well, morning now.
I sighed. Tris shifted again next to me, returning to rest her head on the pillow. She still faced me now. One hand emerged from the blanket again so she could run the side of her finger down my arm. She could only reach so far before starting back down again.
“You’re going to be exhausted,” Tris murmured. “Can you ask Lauren for her answers from this one? To study from?”
“Mm. Maybe.” Lauren had passed this qual the winter after her Initiation. She’d only had a few weeks to study for it. Had only needed a few weeks to. I’d been working on this every god damn night and weekend for the past three months.
And I still couldn’t answer a fucking obvious, critical question.
“Hey, hey,” Tris said. I looked down at my hands. I’d crumpled the pages in front of me between white knuckled fists. Tris’ hand wrapped around my wrist. It was the best she could manage from her angle. “It’s going to be alright,” she insisted.
“It will be when this is over,” I hissed. “If I pass.” Good fucking god, there were only three days left. Two nights of studying, really. I’d only have a few hours on the morning of to try and force any more info into recall.
I laughed bitterly. “I might not pass,” I repeated. “Wouldn’t that be rich? Paid so much attention to the fear sims, and I can’t explain them worth a damn for these stupid quals. Fear is what gets you kicked out of Dauntless. Never thought that’d be me, but here we are.”
Tris threw the blanket off. It took most of my papers with it, crumpled pages spilling everywhere at the foot of the bed. She sat up fully. Forced me to look at her instead.
“Eric,” she said, “what would you tell me if I was doing this?”
It wouldn’t work. I crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed. “Usually your problem is that you’re overreacting. And I’m not,” I insisted.
“Bullshit,” Tris retorted. I scoffed again. She wasn’t the one unable to answer a goddamn multiple choice question on what should have been a mid-level biology question.
She mirrored my crossed arms. “Bull. Shit. You’re overreacting and stressing about not knowing shit. So you’re just getting more and more stressed as you get more and more stuff not quite right,” she said.
“Not quite right is wrong. And wrong means failing quals,” I spat.
I don’t know if she heard the nerves in my voice then or if she just had to think another minute for a new plan of attack, but after a moment she said, “You have two more full days.”
Two days. My stomach flipped and I snapped my eyes shut. “Don’t remind me.”
She didn’t quit. “You have two more full days,” Tris insisted. “That’s plenty of time. You’ve got the core information down; you have to by now after all this cramming and all these weekends buried in that book. It’s just perfecting recall.”
I made a noise. I felt her prodding at my knees until I relented and stretched my legs back out on the mattress. Tris dropped onto my lap with all the grace of a newborn foal - all legs and flailing hooves, sorry, palms. I opened one eye as she wrapped her arms loosely around my neck.
“I’m not moving these,” I muttered, wiggling one arm.
“Sure you’re not,” she replied. Resting her forehead on mine, she forced me to look at her.
Her voice got soft. “I know you’re stressed. And you’ve every right to be worried about the test. They’re fucking hard,” she said. I almost laughed. Almost.
Tris continued on. One of her thumbs stroked along the skin of my neck. “But I’m here to tell you: you’re going to be okay. It’s all going to be fine. Two days is plenty of time. I know it will be,” she said quietly.
I closed my eyes again. Nodding my head, I hummed in acknowledgement. “Mkay,” I said. I pressed a kiss to her lips. Saying thank you seemed like not enough. I did it anyways.
“You don’t need to thank me. Like I said, if you need anything you just have to ask me,” she murmured. We shifted together and she moved to lay on top of me. I had to kick to get the blanket back up to us. That sleepy smile returned to her face when I pulled it over her shoulders again.
I looked one last time at the pages still down by my feet. Tris poked my side, reading my mind. “Turn off the light,” she grunted. “Sleep now. Study later.”
Kissing the top of her head, I clicked the lamp off. She snuggled tighter to my chest.
It’s the simple things.
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