[Newt's glasses go flying as some idiot shoves him to the floor of the Kaiju shelter. His head smacks concrete and the room goes blurry and he can't tell if it's because of his missing glasses or possible head trauma. Great. Thanks, guy, Newt definitely need a concussion to deal with right now.
Something massive thuds against the ceiling, showering dirt and debris over the crowd as they scatter to the walls of the shelter. Otachi. Newt won't learn her name until after the fact. Category IV, the second Kaiju ever to have wings and the first to actually achieve flight, standing at just over 63 meters tall and weighing 2,690 tons, equipped with an acid sac in her throat which allows her to spit toxic liquid hundreds of feet away... He'll spend the night reading up on her, absorbing all of her specs, though some of it he knows in the moment. From the Drift. He saw her birth just hours before she swam through the Breach and made landfall in Hong Kong, looking for him.
He hasn't see her though, not yet. For now, he's scrambling blinding for his glasses. His head hurts, and so does his wrist from when that jerk shoved him into a parked car... He's filthy and exhausted and his head is still all messed up from neural overload. There was no time to stop by the medical bay before heading out to find Hannibal Chau even though he's still recovering from a seizure. Ugh.
"This is the worst..." He mutters it under his breath as he locates his glasses and—there's another thud topside, this time strong enough to flicker the lights. Newt starts, his glasses forgotten again as he listens.
It's quiet for a long, long moment, and then it's not, the bricks overhead giving way as Otachi crashes her full weight into the street above. The shelter roof caves in and there she is, a blur of hard carapace and shimmering blue. He's on his knees in front of her because he can't bring himself to move, save for a trmbling hand finally returning his glasses to his face. They don't help much—they're cracked and splattered with rainwater—but he can see her properly now, two thick claws stabbing into the shelter, scratching straight through concrete as she digs for him.
And then she pulls away. Still shaking, he manages to stand, though he's still too scared to retreat into the crowd. What's the point? She'll find him. They've got something of a connection now, having been inside each other's heads.
Jaeger pilots call it ghost Drifting. The neural bridge doesn't always collapse the moment the Drift is disengaged. Sometimes, somewhat rarely, there's a link left over. Newt can feel something beyond himself lurking out on the streets of Hong Kong, beyond the sheets of rain and the crumpled streetlight swaying over the hole she's left in the ground. He edges forward an inch or two to peer out of the hole.
Ah, there she is.
Otachi rams her snout into the shelter, but though she's ripped away a good portion of the ceiling, she's too big to fit. She reels back, howling and stomping in a tantrum, and then dives in again, this time extending her tongue into the opening she's made.
Newt can see himself, somehow. His mind is split between himself and her, her and all the Kaiju, the Precursors, the whole hivemind that he has forced his way into. If he had known what this would come to, he would've reconsidered his plan to Drift with Mutavore's brain. He can see himself frozen as Otachi's flicking tongue reaches for him, its bioluminescence nodules lit up like a carnival. It's oddly inviting, the effect they have. If his life weren't likely about to end, he would probably find the whole display rather calming.
Should he give himself up? It's possible, maybe even likely, that Otachi isn't planning to kill him. Maybe she'll just capture him, bring him back to the Precursors somehow. After all, he is the only human who's ever gotten close to them. He's valuable. A worthy specimen, if nothing else. It wouldn't be an ideal scenario, but it wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to him in this moment, either.
Besides, giving himself up would be the noble thing to do. It would likely spare everyone in this shelter, at the very least. Otachi could give up entirely, and with the second Kaiju already dispatched by Gipsy Danger—another thing he learned via ghost Drift—he could save what's left of Hong Kong. That would be a worth sacrifice, wouldn't it? People would remember him as a hero.
He takes a tentative step forward as Otachi pulls back to hunch over her mark. She knows he's here, but she can't quite get to him. That, or she's waiting.
Yeah. Giving himself up is the right thing to do. He doesn't want to die, god does he not want to die, but...
A set of heavy footfalls draws her attention away from Newt, and then a searchlight cuts through the rain. Otachi swivels her head and through her eyes, Newt can see a Jaeger approaching, wielding an oil tanker like a baseball bat.
He sucks in a breath, and then starts for the exit she's left for him. He can reckon with his brush with death tomorrow, after he saves the fucking world.]
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completelycrazy) wrote2018-11-26 09:33 am
1. Newt meets Otachi face-to-face
Something massive thuds against the ceiling, showering dirt and debris over the crowd as they scatter to the walls of the shelter. Otachi. Newt won't learn her name until after the fact. Category IV, the second Kaiju ever to have wings and the first to actually achieve flight, standing at just over 63 meters tall and weighing 2,690 tons, equipped with an acid sac in her throat which allows her to spit toxic liquid hundreds of feet away... He'll spend the night reading up on her, absorbing all of her specs, though some of it he knows in the moment. From the Drift. He saw her birth just hours before she swam through the Breach and made landfall in Hong Kong, looking for him.
He hasn't see her though, not yet. For now, he's scrambling blinding for his glasses. His head hurts, and so does his wrist from when that jerk shoved him into a parked car... He's filthy and exhausted and his head is still all messed up from neural overload. There was no time to stop by the medical bay before heading out to find Hannibal Chau even though he's still recovering from a seizure. Ugh.
"This is the worst..." He mutters it under his breath as he locates his glasses and—there's another thud topside, this time strong enough to flicker the lights. Newt starts, his glasses forgotten again as he listens.
It's quiet for a long, long moment, and then it's not, the bricks overhead giving way as Otachi crashes her full weight into the street above. The shelter roof caves in and there she is, a blur of hard carapace and shimmering blue. He's on his knees in front of her because he can't bring himself to move, save for a trmbling hand finally returning his glasses to his face. They don't help much—they're cracked and splattered with rainwater—but he can see her properly now, two thick claws stabbing into the shelter, scratching straight through concrete as she digs for him.
And then she pulls away. Still shaking, he manages to stand, though he's still too scared to retreat into the crowd. What's the point? She'll find him. They've got something of a connection now, having been inside each other's heads.
Jaeger pilots call it ghost Drifting. The neural bridge doesn't always collapse the moment the Drift is disengaged. Sometimes, somewhat rarely, there's a link left over. Newt can feel something beyond himself lurking out on the streets of Hong Kong, beyond the sheets of rain and the crumpled streetlight swaying over the hole she's left in the ground. He edges forward an inch or two to peer out of the hole.
Ah, there she is.
Otachi rams her snout into the shelter, but though she's ripped away a good portion of the ceiling, she's too big to fit. She reels back, howling and stomping in a tantrum, and then dives in again, this time extending her tongue into the opening she's made.
Newt can see himself, somehow. His mind is split between himself and her, her and all the Kaiju, the Precursors, the whole hivemind that he has forced his way into. If he had known what this would come to, he would've reconsidered his plan to Drift with Mutavore's brain. He can see himself frozen as Otachi's flicking tongue reaches for him, its bioluminescence nodules lit up like a carnival. It's oddly inviting, the effect they have. If his life weren't likely about to end, he would probably find the whole display rather calming.
Should he give himself up? It's possible, maybe even likely, that Otachi isn't planning to kill him. Maybe she'll just capture him, bring him back to the Precursors somehow. After all, he is the only human who's ever gotten close to them. He's valuable. A worthy specimen, if nothing else. It wouldn't be an ideal scenario, but it wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to him in this moment, either.
Besides, giving himself up would be the noble thing to do. It would likely spare everyone in this shelter, at the very least. Otachi could give up entirely, and with the second Kaiju already dispatched by Gipsy Danger—another thing he learned via ghost Drift—he could save what's left of Hong Kong. That would be a worth sacrifice, wouldn't it? People would remember him as a hero.
He takes a tentative step forward as Otachi pulls back to hunch over her mark. She knows he's here, but she can't quite get to him. That, or she's waiting.
Yeah. Giving himself up is the right thing to do. He doesn't want to die, god does he not want to die, but...
A set of heavy footfalls draws her attention away from Newt, and then a searchlight cuts through the rain. Otachi swivels her head and through her eyes, Newt can see a Jaeger approaching, wielding an oil tanker like a baseball bat.
He sucks in a breath, and then starts for the exit she's left for him. He can reckon with his brush with death tomorrow, after he saves the fucking world.]