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ximilialog2023-06-01 06:40 pm
- ! event log,
- adventure time: finn mertens,
- adventure time: jake the dog,
- fear street: ziggy berman,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- red vs blue: felix,
- star trek aos: james t. kirk,
- star trek aos: leonard mccoy,
- the old guard: andromache,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER
● ● ● M I S S I O N 1 4 . 0
The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.
You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.
Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:
The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.
Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.
1.0 The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.
There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.
Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.
2.0 Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.
You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.
3.0 The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.
Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?
If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.
4.0 Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.
If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.
5.0 You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.
By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.
6.0 The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.
The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.
Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.
● ● ●
Present Day.
The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.
Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.
The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.
Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.
F Y I
• For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.
• Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.
• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
Who lives in a world where it rains knives? Why would it do that? [He shrieks into the storm, immediately scrambling over to the single house in view.
Did he say wonders? Wonders might not have been the right word.]
i hate him gskjaldga
The sound of yelling sends Jake's hackles up instinctively, ears pricking at the unfamiliar sounds (and smell) rapidly approaching up the hill. It wasn't often that people made it all the way out here; it's why his parents chose the place. The fact that a stranger decided to finally show up today of all days heaped an out of body surrealness to the unusual occurrence.
Were it any other kind of storm, Jake would've happily left the guy to get soaked or struck by lightning, but he'd already buried two dead bodies today. One more would really be pushing his limit. ]
Easy, dude. [ He calls through the door, underneath a symphony of unlocking sounds. The house was well protected, his parents always made sure of that. At least Jake could be confident this guy wasn't a demon, he'd never have made it past the salt barrier. ] What the heck are you doing out there, anyway?
[ The door swings open, ushering the stranger inside the small home. It was dark save a few light lanterns, just bright enough to dimly illuminate Jake himself. He looked... well, shockingly similar to the older version Wei Wuxian knew aboard the ship. Sure, he was trimmer and there was no gray around his muzzle, and there was the fact that his fur was grown out around his face in a vague gesture towards a hair style, but otherwise... same ol' Jake.
Still a freakin' dog. Sorry, buddy. ]
C'mon, get in here. [ Jake instructs tersely, not bothering to take a good look at the man in his haste to close the door again. ] You're letting all the warm air out.
[ Behind him, a small human child pokes his blonde head up from the sofa. His face was red from tears, but it did little to dampen the eager curiosity directed toward their visitor. ]
no subject
Jake is his friend. He isn't just some dog. He isn't going to hurt him or bite him, and all of this is a memory anyway. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, and when he opens them again he's surprised and softened by the sight of a much younger Finn. He only barely remembers that he's a stranger to both of them here and that he shouldn't act like he knows them. At least not until whatever memory was meant to play out has played out. Before then, trying to convince them of the truth probably wouldn't go anywhere at all.]
T-thank you. [He manages, and hopes he can pass the stutter off to the cold.]
why would you hurt me this way
There were sillier things to be scared of. ]
It's cool. [ Jake dismisses, shutting the door tight behind him. The persistent thump of blades lodging into the roof didn't have the same soothing quality of a rain shower, but the fire blazing in the hearth did help chase away the chill of the outdoors. ] Are you from around here, man?
[ The question comes from Jake, his hospitality coming out strained through a layer of bone deep exhaustion. He crosses in front of him to fetch a third cup of hot "chocolate" (by dogs, for dogs... so more of a chocolate suggestion, really). If Wei Wuxian takes the time to look around, he'll notice dozens of family photos decorating the walls. Dogs, nearly identical to Jake, dotted the frames like orange blotches of paint. Every so often, a small human infant would be grouped in among them.
The small human boy on the couch was wearing the same hat as the baby in the photos, still staring up at Wei Wuxian with equal parts curiosity and suspicion. ]
Are you a dog?
you're welcome 😌
He blinks back to reality and shakes his head.]
No, I'm not. I'm a little lost. [Easier than trying to explain. His eyes return to Finn then and he shakes his head.]
I'm not a dog, I'm a man. [He offers them both a tentative smile.]
I'm sorry to intrude like this. I hope I didn't interrupt anything. [It might be a mundane memory of a weird knife storm, but there is an air between Jake and Finn that suggests otherwise.]
no subject
Well, you look like a dog! [ Finn exclaims, with the rude stubbornness of a little boy who'd had a very trying day. Jake, barely as old as Wei Wuxian, doesn't even try to hold back his sniggering laughter at his brother's tactlessness. ]. Heh, he's not wrong, dude. We don't get a lotta black foxes around here.
[ As far as the interruption question goes, Jake lets it glide over him like water. He settles back by the fire, stoking it to stronger life. ]
You're in good company though. We're both a couple of weirdos too, right, Finn?
[ To this, Finn nods solemnly, promptly scooting over on the couch to give Wei Wuxian room to sit. Apparently, his big brother grouping them in as a trio was all it took for Finn to turn his interest in their visitor from apprehensive to eager. ]
no subject
Ah, alright, you got me. I'm a huli-jing. It's a kind of fox. Sometimes we pretend to be men. [He grins because hey, might as well go with it. Huli-jing are tricksters after all.] And weirdos are my favorite kind of people.
[He takes a minute to figure out how to sit with tails and then curls up in a corner of the couch.] My name is Wei Wuxian. It's nice to meet both of you.
no subject
Oh, yeah, no, I've heard of huli-jing. [ He stokes the fire brighter, clearly determined to sound more worldly than this little cottage made him look. Prideful, to the point of rudeness... even the tragedy of the last few days wasn't enough to scrub away that ugly part of Jake's personality. It would be years before he would leave that chapter of his life fully behind. ] Over in the eastern part of Ooo, right? Psh, yeah, I know all about you guys.
[ He doesn't wait for a response to that, standing up and turning back towards the pair. Finn was happily petting one of Wei Wuxian's tails, looking much more contented now that Jake had confirmed they were three of a kind. ]
I'm Jake. That over there's Finn. We're brothers. [ He adds, stubbornly, as if daring Wei Wuxian to challenge that. ] And we are dogs, so...
[ That last note is delivered with a hard stare. The kind of look that communicates: I will put you back in the knife storm if you tell him any different. ]
no subject
Well, obviously! You didn't think I'd mistake you two for foxes, did you? [It occurs to him belatedly that a dog had glared at him and he didn't even want to cry about it. He really is getting used to Jake. Or maybe it's just the understanding that even if he doesn't know why, he knows Jake's protecting Finn. It's difficult to be upset about that.]
And anyway the family resemblance is clear. I don't see how anyone would ever mistake you for anything but brothers. [And he means it. With the way Jake looks at Finn, it is obvious.]
no subject
Cool. You'd be surprised how many people get that wrong, right Finn? [ Finn doesn't respond, thoroughly distracted by his determined task of lifting the tail and watching it flop back down into his lap again. ] Yeah, okay, you're busy.
[ Taking another sip, Jake sighs. The thrill of a new face could only keep reality at bay for so long, practical questions resurfacing as he stares down into the cup. ]
You got anywhere to stay tonight, man? 'Cuz you can crash here if you want, we don't mind. I don't think the storm's supposed to let up until tomorrow.
no subject
I promise not to take up too much space. [He says, gratitude plain.]
I've never been caught out in a storm like that. You're really helping me out. [Because why would it rain knives? Seriously.]
no subject
Psh, you're already way more polite than either of us. [ Finn blows a large raspberry in response, which Jake answers dutifully with an immature laugh. ] Heh, awesome.
[ Scooping the little human boy up into his paws, Finn squeals with laughter in a way that harkened back to the devastated wails from earlier that morning. They felt so far away now, pushed aside in favor of the distraction Wei Wuxian provided (for that alone, Jake could kiss the guy), but Jake wasn't so naive to assume they'd be gone for good. Finn was a sensitive kid, always had been. It was one of the things their father worried about most, pushing Finn in ways that both sat wrong with Jake and fell completely out of his depth to challenge.
That was their Dad, after all. Joshua. Larger than life and the best dog any of them could ever hope to be. That he had a cruel streak, a dismissive streak, a reckless streak that now left his three pups orphaned? Those were the kind of inconvenient facts that Jake couldn't square against the idealized version of his father that sprung to life the moment the earthly one died. ]
I'm gonna give this kid a bath and put him to bed. [ Jake extends the arms holding his little brother over towards a closet door, where Finn promptly begins drumming his hands against. ] There are sheets and extra pillows in here if you wanna get cozy on the couch.
[ Snapping Finn back to his chest, Jake lets the little boy tug at his ear until it was practically a foot long without paying him any mind. ]
Oh, and are you hungry? I can fix you something when I'm all done with him, if you want. Or if you can't wait, the fridge is... [ Jake trails off, looking briefly stricken. ] Actually, it's kind of a mess in there. Better to just wait for me, aight?
no subject
He doesn't grab the sheets but he does grab a pillow while Jake is gone that he places carefully so as not to interfere with his tails. By the time Jake returns, Wei Wuxian has made himself even cozier in his corner of the couch and one of his fingers is rubbing mindlessly along the fur one an ear.]
no subject
Finn was at he and Jermaine's side through all of it, too. Even at barely four years of age, the human boy was always so eager to do whatever his older brothers did.
So when Jermaine and Jake began to dig, Finn did too. When Jake scrubs the dirt out from under Finn's nails, he can't help but feel a little sick about that. Jermaine didn't want their youngest brother to be there for the grim work of placing their parents bodies in the ground, and it was Jake to argue in favor of it. He'd been the one to put Finn at that graveside today, been the one to allow him to see his mother and father's dead bodies slowly cover over with dirt. The same dirt he'd more or less put under those tiny little nails.
The strange cobweb of feelings that thought shakes loose is easily tucked away again once Finn is out the tub again. Jake runs a towel roughly through his long hair, finding his own grin as he manages to drag a few more laughs out of his brother on this terrible, terrible day.
Taking care of kids always came easy to Jake, being essentially a big kid himself. When it came to someone Jake grew up alongside (in a manner of speaking), things went from easy to literal child's play. The steps to bedtime were easily turned into a series of games. Teeth brushing became a race, getting into pajamas became a time trial, and actually getting into bed? Blindfolded obstacle course. By the time Finn was settled under the covers, he was yawning loudly around his unconvincing I'm not tired protestations.
About ten pages into a book, and the kid was out like a light. ]
[ Venturing back out into the room, Jake's doubletakes at the fox sitting up on his couch. Oh, he thinks dimly to himself, that's right, there's a guy in here. ]
Oh hey, you found a pillow, right on. [ Jake grins with a thumbs up, affecting a semi-automatic casualness. ] Lemme know if you want any more, we're swimming in linens around here. Heh...
[ He scratches the back of his neck, itching at where the tag of his shirt rubbed uncomfortably against his fur. Funny how fashion felt worth suffering for as little as a week ago, back when he'd been chilling with his crew. Now, it just felt... silly. ]
Sorry for the wait on the grub, man. You aren't too hungry, are ya? [ He pushes up the sleeves of his flannels, heading into the kitchen -- still within clear speaking distance of the living room, thanks to a large cutout in the wall (his mother's innovation and insistence). ] Normally, I'd let you chow down on whatever you're feeling, but... it's been a pretty weird day around here, dude.
[ Understatement of the century. ]
no subject
I'm not picky. I'll have whatever you're having. [There's a heaviness in the air that he can't quite define, but he knows suddenly even without any proof that something has already happened, that this moment is the aftermath. His tails freeze for a second before returning to their casual sway.]
It's been a weird one for me too, but probably in different ways. How was your day weird? [He asks directly, keeping his voice neutral and curious.]
no subject
Well, uh. [ Another crack of shell, another egg falling into a hot skillet. With an extra arm, Jake fishes around for his mother's good rice pot. ] We buried our parents this morning, so. That kinda weird?
[ Blunt, maybe, but Jake wasn't sure how to soften the blow of something that heavy. Nor, honestly, did he really feel like trying. ]
How 'bout you, man, you bury anybody today?
no subject
Oh.
He doesn't know why he feels tears spring to his eyes, or rather he does know why, but he blinks them back all the same. He's a stranger here in this memory, and what a strange thing to cry so easily for the pain of someone he doesn't know. When he's sure he has himself under control again, he moves closer to where Jake is cooking. Closer than he's ever willingly been to a dog.]
I haven't. [He answers, heart aching.] Not today.
I'm sorry. [A pause and then] Can I help? I'm a pro at cutting vegetables.
no subject
And yet here he was, a thin reedy laugh escaping him at the words not today, redoubled into something robustly genuine at Wei Wuxian's offer. ]
Shoot, man. [ He snorts, swabbing away at a few tears under his eyes. ] Why not. Grab whatever you think looks good from the fridge. Just, ah--[ The humor strips away from Jake's voice, replaced with a sort of residual urgency. ] Leave the tinfoil covered stuff alone.
[ It's not hard to guess what lay under those cinched tinfoil covers. The entire kitchen was decked out with the sort of feminine touches that didn't suit Jake's bleached green fur and black clothes. An apron hung on the peg by the stove, decorated with a mostly-faded marker inscription. Momy, misspelled across the front in a child's scrawl.
This wasn't Jake's kitchen, it was his mother's. Whatever was left for them under that tinfoil was the last they'd ever eat from her.
Jake still hadn't fully confronted the permeance of that, opting to stare down at his not-yet-boiling rice instead. ]
You probably weren't expecting to walk outta one storm and into another, huh? [ Jake tosses out in his direction, gaze still fixed stubbornly on the rice. ] I'd say sorry, but I'm actually glad you found us. 'Cuz if we had to deal with another body today, I think I'd lose it.
[ It's a joke, though maybe not as much of one as Jake thought it would be. His laugh is more forced than the one Wei Wuxian earned from him, fading quickly into awkward nothing. ]
no subject
And then he pulls a few carrots and brings them over, finding a knife and beginning to chop.]
I'm not sorry you found me either. [He's quiet for a while, and then he speaks again, voice more matter of fact than anything soft or sympathetic.]
In many of the losses I've had, there was no one I could speak to. There were people, but they were always people I had to remain strong for. [His eyes flicker momentarily in the direction Finn had disappeared to.] So if it helps, you don't have to watch your words with me.
no subject
Heh. Sounds like you and me are peas in a pod, man. Oh, that reminds me--you like snap peas? [ He asks in passing, moving to stretch an arm towards the windowsill were a small basket of them lay, freshly washed and peeled. Remnants from a prior episode of Gotta Keep Busy, Jake. ] These are pretty good. My mom would grow 'em and then my dad would pickle 'em. Heh, he was a real pickle nut. Guess he never got around to these ones, though.
[ Jake stares down at the basket, lost in thought even as the skillet behind him started to smoke. ]
Tell ya the truth, I always liked 'em better fresh. So. I guess that's a kind of bonus, right? Dead dads are bummers and everything, but hey! More fresh peas for us.
[ On that cheerful note, a sudden fwoom of fire erupts behind Jake. Whoops. ]
no subject
He moves to extinguish the fire with a flick of resentful energy that smothers it and then reaches for the pan handle to set it in the sink. He doesn't wash it yet, only sits it there to cool, and as he faces the window to the outside, he speaks as if nothing had happened.]
My sister was the best cook. I loved everything she made, it was all so good. But there was this one dumpling that I just—it wasn't her fault, they were excellent of course, but I was never a fan.
Sometimes I miss them. It's strange, I didn't even like them but I miss them.
[He moves back to the cutting board then and slowly begins to chop the carrots again.] Even having the best dumpling in the worlds doesn't compare.
[He grows silent again for a moment.]
For what it's worth, I'm sorry.
no subject
Oh. Guess it was crudité and rice for them, then.
Jake takes one of the snap pees in hand, chewing it for a long, silent moment as Wei Wuxian talks. The words wash over him, penetrating only slightly at the defenses his father was so careful to imbue into him as a pup. ]
You lost your sister? [ He asks, cutting to the point in a way that Wei Wuxian would recognize. There were many parts of Jake that age had softened or dulled, but in this respect he was still the same as ever. Only Jake doesn't wait for an answer before continuing, wrinkling his nose at his own words. ] Sorry, just--is that weird, how I just said that? I mean, I know it's something people say, but--it's not like you left her at bus stop somewhere.
[ Jake takes another handful of peas, shoving them roughly into his mouth and chewing with a sort of renewed fixation. ]
She's dead. [ His voice sounds strange around his half chewed mouthful, but its easy to tell that there's a sort of frustration to his tone skating in around the edges. ] Why can't people just say that? Even I'm doing it!
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I did. She died. [He says directly, thinking of how he'd loved Jiang Yanli and how she'd looked bleeding in Jiang Cheng's arms. It isn't something he thinks of often except on bad nights. He pauses in hi chopping and sets the knife down.]
It really...sucks, doesn't it?
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[ His chewing noises cut through the room dimly, somehow too quiet and too loud all at once. ]
But what are you gonna do, right? It's not like I'm alone with it, not technically. I got another brother aside from Finn. Jermaine. He's... skulking around here somewhere, I dunno. [ In his room, shattered. Utterly and completely shattered, to the point where the thought of putting him back together and keeping Finn from coming apart felt like it might actually tear Jake in two. He'd made his priority clear almost instantly, latching to his younger brother while he and Jermaine attended to their grief with the kind of distance that was already beginning to sour into resentment.
Jake liked to think he made the choice because Finn was little and Jermaine was grown, just like him. But if he were really being honest, Finn and Jake would always pick each other first. Jermaine knew it as much as Jake did. Had known it even since they were all pups together, not so long ago. ] But don't worry about him. He doesn't matter. I'm just--I'm just living here until I can find a new place, then me and Finn are outtie forreal.
No kid oughta grow up in a tomb. [ Belatedly, he extends the half-eaten bowl of peas to Wei Wuxian. ] Snap pea?
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Yeah. [Even he doesn't know what its to, but he does take a snap pea.]
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