I finished this thing in a day literally. Im surprised of myself. This is my first (completed) animatic and i suck at editing so don’t judge too hard 🙏
Look at my thoughts about Simon’s past tho
I got my vision on it from a couple of different fanfics so listen to my mashup
As we know he was born on Mars, so the Quiet Rapture happened when he was about 8. Like a year before it Simon with his mother moved to the Eden because she was offered a job as a botanist there. But after the Rapture all plants except The Tree died and Simon’s mother was probably blamed for it and got fired. She was not able to support a child anymore and he had to join some kind of group that bred solders for Eden. They were rather close to the Father and were getting their minds washed really hard, but Simon remembered life before Eden and his mother’s tales.
At the age of ~14 they started to take part in real fights.
We Will Break Away Together (I'll be the Shadow, You'll be the Light)
7. 7X11F22A311
"I don't think we ever got your name."
Cw: body horror
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Simon presses himself tightly into the corner, like if he squishes in far enough, the nightmare will end, and the Pinhole won’t See. He takes a shaky breath, before stepping out from behind the corner to approach the control desk.
The issue is, he realizes when his body locks up from pure, adulterated fear, that his chair was already occupied.
He can see It in the light now, that thing that haunted the back corners of his submarine, that stalked above him in the undertow, that watched him from the shadows even though he knew he couldn’t see it, tried to convince himself it wasn’t real.
It’s humanoid, he can tell that much, as it slowly turns around to face him. It seems to be missing a limb, tumorous growths erupting from It’s flesh and bubbling out grotesquely. Where the mouth– mouths?– are, he can see where the human jaw distends far past It’s limit, the next mouth, protruding teeth and a gaping abyss in the side of It’s face. The eye sockets are dark in the same way of spotting your reflection with overhead lighting, and It stares.
He slides back into the corner, gasping despite himself, terror gripping him far more than anything else has ever had its hold on him. Slowly, he slides back down to the ground, brain numb, and searching for something to use as a weapon. That Thing would try to kill him, surely. It had been haunting him like a ghost.
He found the small pair of medical scissors that he had discarded once he was able to open the hatch of the undertow, curling his fingers inside the handle and holding it out, like a makeshift prison shank. He’d seen his fair share before.
Simon breathes heavily, steeling himself and whatever courage he had left, before exclaiming and leaping out from his hiding spot, shank raised to find–
Nothing.
The sub was empty again. It was gone.
His adrenaline fades quickly and he crashes into the wall, hard, his hand still poised to strike as his chest rose and fell, gasping loudly. With shaking hands, he drops the scissors, and stares at the pendant hanging loosely from his wrist. It catches the light, and he notices the sharp crack that splinters through the clear material, before clutching at it desperately, a sob tearing out of his lungs.
The speaker buzzes.
“H- …ello?”
“What!?” He cries as he looks over to the speaker. The little light flashes as she begins to speak again.
“Is that really you?”
He sobs again, tears flowing freely out of fear, or frustration, or both. “Stop fucking with me!” Simon pleads desperately.
“I-... I uh- I don’t know what to say.”
“No,” he cries. “I’m done. I’m done, please… I-” He peels himself back up, entire body alight with agony that rips through every limb like a fire. “I’m done being FUCKED WITH! The radio’s broken, I broke it! You can’t even tell me that you’re you!” He screams, stumbling back into the computer console, turning to fidget with it, something, anything.
“I don’t even know how you survived.” She says, shocked. “How– wh…?”
He needs proof. He knows he broke the radio, but he also knew he saw that Thing, and he knows he saw It, and the arrogant God that wouldn’t let him–
The X-ray. In the ship bay. Proof.
“Hello?”
“Wh– what did I do when I was in the hangar!?” He demands. If it was really her, she’d know. She’d know, right?
“What…?”
“No, no no no, how many people were in the hangar!?” Simon shouts.
“I don’t understand, sor-”
He growls in aggravation. He sounds like an animal, desperate and clawing at a trap he knows he’s going to die in. “Jus’ tell me how many people, give me a NUMBER!” He roars.
“Three! Three, three.” She says and he looks back to the picture. Two in the background, Jack the engineer in the front. “Uh- y- you took a picture! Yeah? You blasted us with radiation.” She supplied much more calmly as opposed to how he felt.
“No, no, you’re LYING!”
“I’m not-”
He steps forward, hand reaching up to pull the frayed wire. “You can’t be talking to me! I know you’re-” The wire sticks to where it had been. But he had… He had pulled it free when he broke it…. Didn’t he? His hand falls away, back down to his side.
“What?” She presses.
“Tha’s…… Tha’s not possible.” He murmurs, taking a step back, and fully taking in his surroundings. Blood stains the interior of the sub. The crack is still in the porthole window. It’s still broiling in here. “What-
“What’s my name?” He spins, facing the radio again, holding his hand up accusingly. He can’t hide the waver in his voice, the way that it makes the desperation sound like he’s a scared little kid.
“.... This isn’t helping.” She tells him lowly.
“Oh, come ON! Just tell me my NAME!” Simon sobs, chest aching, heart aching, head pounding, and everything…. He didn’t have the words to express how much everything hurt. He was tired of being fucked with. He needed… Just give him…. “Say my NAME!”
The radio stays quiet. He whimpers, despite himself.
“I don’t… I don’t think we ever got your name.” The woman admits finally, sounding defeated.
He feels whatever fight left in him die out instantly, like a candle snuffed in a flood, not enough energy or space to even produce smoke. He makes a noise, somewhat crossed between disbelief, shock, and despair.
“Y’don’t… You don’t even know my…” He looks up at the radio disconsolately. “You… You sent me down here to die, and you don’t even know my name….?”
“We didn’t send you to– I’m sorry.” She says softly, and he cries, the sound lamenting as it bounces around the sub back at him. “Look– it’s been d- days since your last contact. You should’ve run out of oxygen by now, how are you– how are you still alive?”
Simon hiccups, looking at the single light of oxygen left. “I… I’m not sure.” He whispers. “It says I have one light left…? I really don’t know… I- I-... I dunno. I thought… I thought I died.” Blood thuds dully in his ears. “...I might’ve died. I don’t.. I don’t know– I–... dunno even… where I am…?” He’s in shock, he thinks, as he bends down to pick his map up off the floor. The corner of it is soaked in blood from the leak, something he had still yet to find. He knows there should be pain in his back, deepset agony in his sides, but he just… He doesn’t feel it anymore. Everything is numb.
Simon hears his breathing quicken before he feels it. He was wasting oxygen like this, but he couldn’t calm down. “I– I, uh… I think I’ve done enough,” he begins to plead, weeping, truly weeping now. He leans against the wall for support, tapping his bandaged fist against it. “I would really– I would really like to not be down here anymore. Pl…- Please.”
“I know.” Her voice is soft. She sounds almost sad. “I…. don’t think that’s possible.”
“I had nothing to do with Filament Station, they– I swear– that wasn’t– That wasn’t part of the plan–” He wails, truly despaired. He wanted to live. Why couldn’t she let him? “They– they wouldn’t listen to me, I–”
“I’m really sorry.” She repeats. Another wail rips from his throat, desperate. “It’s not about want. We can’t risk any more dives.”
“But what about the mission!?” Simon begs. “What about everything I learned– What about the sample!? The reason I came down here in the first place!! You… you need that, right…?”
“Yeah. Um…” His shoulders slump and he looks away in disbelief. “A bone fragment isn’t gonna tell us anything we haven’t already seen with– with our own eyes.” She sighs as he near collapses on the ground, knees weakly giving out underneath him. “This isn’t about your past. It’s not punishment. And… I know it’s not fair. But our new orders are to hold, and observe.”
“...After….- After everything I’ve been through, you’re just gonna leave me down here…?” He breathes with what little air he has left.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
He pulls himself back to his feet, placing a hand on the ground, then the wall for support as he slowly staggers back to his desk. He sits down, oxygen stuttering in his chest.
“...has anyone ever made it up?” He asks softly, despondent.
“Yes.” She answers immediately, and he nods. He doesn’t know if he believes her, but he wants to.
“Did you know their names?” Simon asks, only to receive no answer. “Y’know, I remember what you said: that I was the first one down here… I was thinking about it when I was looking at the wreck of the other ship you left down here. The, um… The SM-8.” He says slowly, thinking. “I almost didn’t notice the name on the account of the big fucking hole in the side of it. I-”
“SM-8?” He heard her ask. “Did he say SM-8!?”
A male voice, that one from before. “I- I’m not sure.”
“Did you say SM-8? How do you know about that ship!?” She demands, now speaking to him.
He looks at the radio, then back down to his controls, scoffing, watery. “It had letters on it. I can read.”
“You found the SM-8?”
He pauses. Something in her tone… “Yeah…? I- I did.” Was this a chance? “And- Not only that, when I found it, the computer–” He lurches through the back of the sub, hands shaking as he gestured, “the computer connected to it, but it was downloading something. Something about–”
Insufficient privileges. Leave the area immediately, or surrender yourself to council authority.
“Something about a black box!” He shouted. “An archive, right? I’m right, aren’t I!?”
The silence was tense.
“Well, if you want it,” his voice drops to a growl. “You gotta come down here and get it. That’s the deal. That’s… fair, that’s fair! I- I went through hell and I came out with something a lot better than just a piece of bone. But if you want it, you’re gonna have to get me out. That’s fair.”
“Th- there’s– there’s no way you could’ve downloaded anything– that computer shouldn’t even be active without us giving you the log in-!”
Are you shitting me right now? “No, no, no, I’m not lying. There was a note! Someone told me to splice the wires, I know, big secret’s out, I’m not the first one down here but this is what you need!”
He’s bargaining for his life here, near his wits end.
Would you give anything just to survive?
“Isn’t this what you wanted!? C’mon, I’m not lying! I saw it, I fell in a cave and I went down and I navigated through it and I found this ship that was still powered, the computer connected to it, it was trying to download, I’m telling the truth!” He cried out like a prayer, sins confessed, belly laid bare to the world.
“... How far are you from it right now?” She asks carefully.
That dull feeling in his chest reignites and he swears he can see a little bit clearer. He knows that shock hasn’t worn off yet, he can hear it in the slow beat of his heart– but his heart is still beating. He’s still alive.
“Not far, I think.”
“Okay. If I give you the correct passcode to the computer, and you go back and find the SM-8 like you say, then you should be able to download all of their data, right?” Yeah– yeah, we put power redundancies into the black boxes,” he hears something new in her voice… Was it hope? “–for just that reason in case- well, you know…”
“Y…yeah but uh– but tell me, if I do this, you will get me out.” He says definitively.
“If you do this, I’ll get you myself.” She swears. “Believe it or not, we’ve salvaged these before, and if we’re fast–”
“What are you talking about? This is not happening, we have orders.” A man says further off of the radio. Simon thinks it could be the same one that talked to him the second time going down.
“You have orders.” He hears her correct. He takes a moment to breathe, blinking rapidly. He’s going to get out of here. He’s going to live. “This is my ship, and this is my call. Get 14 prepped. Convict,” She’s closer to the radio now, just a little bit louder. “The SM-8 wasn’t just another sub. There’s equipment on it that we don’t have anymore, things that we will never make again–”
The camera flashes and he can see another deconstructed skull.
“Ava, look at me! He is lying! He will do anything, are you out of your mind!?” The man interjects again.
“Are you? If he’s right, and we do nothing– Look, David, this is bigger than us!”
Ava. David. Two people who never bothered to learn his name. Unless fate was being a particular bitch about it all.
“Oh, my God, enough with the SLOGAN!” David shouts. “It is not worth it! He is not worth it!” Simon pins the map back to the wall, determined. He’d prove them wrong. He was going to find the sub again, and he was going to live, dammit! “It is not. Worth. Losing you, over some fucking criminal!”
“It is worth anything!” She– Ava– yells back. Simon pauses there, looking back up at the radio as the light flickers with their voices. “And you’re lucky I’m not sending you down there instead.”
Yeah, well, it fucking sucks down here, speaking from experience. A sub-mate wouldn’t be too bad, but he was far too into it now to really care about company.
“Convict, you said you mapped it. Do you have the coordinates?” She’s talking to him now, fuck.
“Okay uh– When the line broke, I landed somewhere off the map in some kinda fucked up cave, I dunno, but the ship was the last thing I found, ‘bout 725, maybe 500. It was right next to the only way out I could find and that was…..” He drums his fingers, trying to push through the mush in his brain to remember. “It spat me out around 380, 615!”
“Alright, here’s the plan: We’ll get prepped on our end and if you can make it to the SM-8 and back out, we’ll meet you there in thirty minutes. But I’m serious, you’ve got to be there in 30 minutes or I’m gone, understood!?”
“Yeah, I understand.” He says eagerly, yet deadly serious. “So– So how do I get the files?”
“Go to the computer. Press control, alt, shift, 9.”
Control, alt, shift, nine. Okay, simple enough. Control alt shift nine. Control alt shift nine. He repeats the mantra in his head as he makes his way back to the computer, as Ava continues to speak to him.
“Control, alt, shift… what.”
“Nine.” He presses enter and a box pops up. Username, passkey, and some other things that didn’t look as important as those two right now. “Username–admin, password, all caps:7X11F22A311.”
“I– I got it.”
“Okay, thirty minutes, in and out. If you miss the window, you miss your chance. But if we could pull this off, there’s hope for the COI, for EDEN, for everyone. Nothing else matters compared to this! But if you’re not there, you’re not going home. Thirty. Minutes.”
He can do that. He’s not giving himself another option. He realizes he’s mumbling to himself as he sits back down. “...in and out, and then all of humanity is saved.” It sounds a lot simpler when he said it out loud. But he stops then. He may not trust the COI very much, he may not trust a lot of anyone very much, but he wants to. Oh, how he wants to. But he needs to hear it out loud first. “And then I’m free.”
“And then you’re free.” Ava confirms as he feels the smallest bit of a smile tug at his lips.
“Deal.”
“Blip-E detected.”
“What is blip, question?” Rocky asks, but Ryland’s at the radar in half a second.
“It’s… uh, things that show up on the radar that aren’t supposed to be there.” He taps around furiously, trying to pull the right screen up. Was it an asteroid knocked off course? Could it have been another ship? Shoot! He didn’t start a video log!
“Blip-E detected. Warning: course intersection. Please divert immediately.” Mary says calmly, like she has any other voice settling.
“Oh snap oh snap oh snap-” He breathed, fiddling with the controls, before sinking into the pilot’s seat and turning off the spin drives.
Did you know that in space, everything is constantly moving? There is no fixed location in the eyes of the always expanding universe, but humanity can’t comprehend something of that scale. Probably why space has scared the bajeebus out of him since he was five years old and took a class trip to the planetarium.
So the Hail Mary doesn’t exactly stop, it just slows in relation to the projection of the blip-E.
“Calm down! Hold on! Just- just let me think. We’ve got some time– how were you able to detect me when we both showed up to Tau Ceti?”
“Easy. I hear this to there, see-hear that, and hear you.” Grace is going to pretend that made sense as Rocky gestures around his xenonite enclosure. He really needed to work on updating that translator.
“...kay. Can you see-hear this to–” He shook his head. “Can you see what the blip is? Is it dangerous?”
“Grace not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be??”
“Could be dangerous. No like sarcasm.”
Grace sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Buddy, sarcasm is something totally diff– it doesn’t- …it doesn’t matter. Can you see it or not?”
“Rocky cannot see.”
“Rocky!” He urged.
“Yes, Rocky see. Rocky great, best at no eyes, Grace dumb, worst eyes. Inefficient.” The Eridian trills.
Grace pressed his lips together in a thin line, a muscle in his jaw twinging a little bit, before he puts his glasses on the right way, and takes a peek out the window.
sorry if you’ve answered this before!! What do you think education looks like on Eden? Obviously lots of propaganda, but what’s the real world grade level equivalent? Or in the COI?
Education on Eden, Simon's Knowledge & Skills: A Masterlist Deepdive
NOTE: I am extrapolating from canon. These are all just headcanons and theories as I try to make the most sense out of Iron Lung! I'm also tangent-ing a little bit, but it all leads up to a point. I do my best to make it seem plausible in-universe, and back myself up with movie scenes.
To answer this, we have to look at Eden's original purpose. This is all about context.
Based on some quick math, I assume Simon was around 15 12 years old when the Quiet Rapture happened (and if we also assume he's Markiplier's age, 36 33 at the time of Iron Lung). As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, Eden was originally a bright and booming Mars colony, who fell into mass psychosis after the Quiet Rapture. The first generation of people sent there were incredibly skilled, brilliant scientists. Nobody was actually intending to live on Eden full-time; it was meant to be a "mothership" or a trading hub. Everybody was focused on Mars.
The Station was named Eden in the same way the Apollo/Artemis were named after Greek Gods. I don't think there were truly any "serious" religious overtones happening at this time. It was named Eden because it was the first Martian agricultural center. No shit, people from Earth would name it that.
Then the Rapture happened, and the world vanished from under their feet. It would be like driving out to another town to buy food and hang out, only for the entire planet to suddenly disappear out from under you, and you're stuck with everyone who just so happened to be at the grocery store with you at the same time. It was that jarring. Of course, I'm being hyperbolic a little bit. Because of this sudden catastrophe, Eden had to immediately pivot and turn every single available resource inward just to survive.
Because it was never meant to be the "main" Mars location, Eden didn't have a traditional school structure ready. Instead, education became about survival skills, passed down through experience and word-of-mouth. You learned as you went.
Despite that, I think Simon grew up a very well-learned kid, or was on the path to become one. I see him as a great pilot in another universe where things were better, and I've tried to extend his love for navigation into his time on Eden as a fanatical soldier, just as Iron Lung punctuated his incredible ability to navigate and read/interpret maps. My personal headcanon is that his mom was part of the science team and was absolutely hellbent on raising a smart child to uphold their legacy. (I actually wrote a scene about this in Terminal Lucidity, where Simon remembers being a rowdy little boy slacking off on school and stealing his mom's ship to go orbit and 'get away from it all'):
Honestly, I think all the second-generation kids on Eden were essentially on an IEP (Individualized Education Program). These weren’t normal citizens up there; they were the children of scientists trying to preserve their knowledge. Their parents were their teachers before they all spiraled into a cult.
Simon was likely doing leaps and bounds in advanced schooling up until around the cult started to cultivate soldiers. By our standards, he’s essentially a high-school dropout with a very specific skill set.
Speaking of skill sets...
Simon's Skills
I've compiled a list of some things you might want to consider adding to Simon's background!
From Pre-Rapture Mars/Eden...
Simon understands orbital trajectories, gravitational slingshots, and stellar mapping on a base level. Most people who engage in active space travel would know this. This is the equivalent of knowing how to drive a car, these days.
He would also know how to space-walk if need be, for outer shell repairs or emergency situations. Everyone on a space station should have inherently known how to do this.
Since Eden was possibly a Martian agricultural center, Simon would have basic-to-intermediate knowledge of closed-loop life support systems, chemical water purification, and maintaining soil/nutrient balances in artificial environments. If you don't know how to garden on Eden, you're a shame on the family name.
Simon was not a gardener, that being said, and there's a big reason why he didn't get on with the cult thing very well. He was a soldier who watched people "garden" for ~21 years. Agriculture is an "in-theory" guessing game to him.
He has a high-school level education, just the same as most people. In fact, he's quite offended when the COI assumes he can't read; guffaws like it's a ridiculous thing to say.
Going into headcanon territory pretty hard here: He would have an inherent knowledge of how to protect himself from dust, the cold, and of the traversal of barren, rocky terrain on Mars. He may have been a child on Mars, but his mother never let him go outside without something to protect his face with; note the high collar on Simon's hood. He doesn't trip often; he's heavy-footed when he walks. Buncha rocks on Mars.
Because he grew up there, Simon can navigate the sectors of Eden completely by touch and sound. He knows exactly how many paces it takes to get from his living space to the airlocks to the gardens. It is home. He can wander it the same way someone wanders to their fridge with all the lights off for shredded cheese at 3 AM.
From Post-Rapture Eden...
In a scarcity crisis, there are no spare parts. Simon knows how to jerry-rig if he needs to, but it's basic and born from stubbornness. Simon refuses to let his own tech fail on him. He's not an engineer by any means, he just knows how to do the equivalent of kicking a vending machine until it works again.
Simon would be very good at resource allocation. I think most people in the IL universe would be. He can stretch the bare minimum as long as he needs to, however, when things get desperate enough, he will act on impulse. We see him do this with the water in the movie. There's a nuance here. Base human need wins out in the end.
Simon's navigational skills have tipped me off on the idea that he sports good piloting skills from before the Lung entirely. He didn't read the manual of the SM-13 until he was forced to, because he just assumed he didn't need them; the cockpit was incredibly rudimentary (I also sort of stole this trait from Mark, who has repeatedly mentioned his favorite scenes in IL being the mundane task of driving around).
To survive the mass religious psychosis on Eden, Simon learned how to completely shut off his emotional responses during high-stress or horrific events and take control of a situation. He can witness horrors, perform terrible acts for survival, and maintain a poker face through it all, despite feeling horrible about it. Simon starts to crack when he truly realizes there's no way out of the Iron Lung, and they are not coming to save him. He did genuinely believe he could take control of the situation in Iron Lung and get out of there. He was so confident, at first. I also caught him doing this "poker face" at Ava.
Simon knows exactly where clothes wear out first in a space station—the knees, elbows, and shoulders from brushing against narrow, metallic corridors and ladders. He would know how to harvest and utilize scrap cloth to his advantage (as we see with the MANY patches on his clothes.)
Keeping shoes from falling apart on hard metal flooring without replacement soles is an art form. He would know how to use industrial adhesive (salvaged from maintenance bays) or melted plastic to recast worn-down heels, and how to fashion makeshift structural inserts out of scrap to keep the soles rigid. I mean, have you seen this guy's shoes? He's practically wearing trash on his feet, but you can clearly see that it works:
He'd know the basics of converting raw, Martian-native produce into something shelf stable and filling. Notice how everyone in Iron Lung is skinny except Simon. Simon's huge. Simon ate good on Eden; he knew what the hell he was doing. Dude's a foodie on the down-low.
Simon can chew and swallow things that are texturally horrific, though, much to his dismay, he's got a strong stomach. Slimy, bitter, or completely flavorless without gagging. His palate has been entirely deadened by ~21 years of eating for survival rather than pleasure. Note that Simon only finally lost his stomach after getting vaporized by the Anomaly, and it was blood.
Simon will do what he can to stay clean with no water. He possibly may have resorted to using things like industrial cleaner or non-body safe chemicals just for something. Note my passage from Terminal Lucidity, where he also has to wash his clothes in the shower, and he has 16 seconds to wash up:
I took this detail from a captivating article on what it's like to live in a sterile, limited-resource environment from a Royal Navy marine.
From Being the Butcher...
You don't get a name like "The Butcher" without knowing exactly where a body's weak points are. He likely possesses an understanding of human anatomy in some way.
Fighting inside a space station means no loud, high-caliber firearms (unless you want to blow a hole in the hull). Simon would be an expert in close-quarters combat using blunt instruments, blades (his ritual knife), or environmental hazards.
He can use an environment to his advantage, judging from how resourceful he was in the hemorover. Simon has flashbacks in the movie to standing on piles-upon-piles of bodies. He's dangerous.
You would think Simon would be prison smart and traumatized from the bigger and badder, but he's not. He was the guy people had to be prison smart to avoid. At his worst, he knows when to abuse his own reputation for his own benefit. (You want the Butcher?)
Simon can look at someone and know how to make them fold instantly, just from being observant. He notices your limp, your sore muscle spots, your eyes deadening at certain topics, exactly how dicey you might be on just body language alone. He has gotten incredibly good at reading people because, what's humanity's biggest threat if not itself? People were eating each other on those stations. Being observant is hard-wired into him.
I hope this gives writers everything they're looking for and thensome on Simon's education and know-how!
hi!! first of all, thanks for doing all this work, i appreciate you so much!!
i'm wondering if you can answer this: does simon only smile once in the whole movie? the only time i can recall is after he spits on the light to activate it
Simon Smiling Compilation
All the times I've caught Simon smiling during my scene scrapes. :)
Laughing at the audacity of these fucking people:
Smiling at the fruits of his own good idea:
Thinking about wanting to live:
Manic-smiling while backing up, trying to chase the radio static:
Smiling at the depth meter going up:
Getting a cocky grin while joking about being fucked:
Looking back at the Eel while she dangles hope like a turkey leg on a string:
Celebrating getting the power back on:
He only smiles when he's trying to be a smart ass, or when something works out in his favor. Simon looks for reasons to celebrate to himself whenever possible. He appreciates the little things! You kind of have to, in his situation.
According to Andy Weir's Eridian biology document, Eridians are better multitaskers than humans will ever be, but the trade off is they're physically incapable of locking in. SO funny to me. Yes this species can build a diorama while simultaneously blitzing through mathematics equations and also partaking in intense gossiping, but they cannot do any of those things for longer than, like, half an hour without going crazy. Species of supercomputers cursed with the TikTok attention span.
Rocky mocks Grace when he says that Rocky is distracting him by starting complex conversations while he's Trying To Do Science. "Human brain have to stop activity just because talking question? Useless! One track mind!"
Then Grace is on hour six of his "trying to recreate skittles" hyperfocus and Rocky is like What The Fuck. Statement.
Yeah human brains can only do a single very consuming task at a time but it can do it for a very long time. The one track in our one track minds spans multiple countries. Persistence predators, babey.
Simon wakes up after being found by Grace but he isn't violent or scared. He's completely shut down. The trauma he went through was so intense that his brain had to shut down to protect him. He was already mortally wounded and his body needed to save all the energy it could to survive. Simon is awake, his brain is still active but he remains otherwise unresponsive.
It terrifies Grace because he and the Eridians can treat someone's wounds but they can't fix this. This is way out of their field of expertise; it's up to Simon if he's going to wake up. Grace spends most of his time talking to Simon, hoping that if he keeps engaging him, it will stimulate his brain enough to wake him up from his vegetative state. He talks about nothing and everything. He makes jokes and wishes to hear a laugh in return.
One day, Grace realises that Simon is sweating and when he puts his hand on his forehead, he's burning up. He's running a fever. Before he can panic, he sees Simon squint a little. Grace stops moving and breathing. It looks like he’s thinking about something and it's taking all his strength.
"M–m o m...?" he barely manages to whisper.
His voice is so rough that speaking must have been painful. His eyes are moving a little but are still glassy. His voice was so tiny, fragile and sounded fearful. Grace tears up. Because he found a man who was maimed in the worst way possible. So traumatised, his mind had to pull the plug. And his first words were him calling for his mom like a lost and scared child. He doesn't know him or what happened to him but the cruelty is unbearable. What kind of monster breaks someone to this degree? He doesn't cry but it's a close one. He manages to stop his fever.
He speaks again a few days later. It's to his mother again. He's softly crying and apologising on loop. Grace waits to see if it will pass and when it doesn't, he decides to act. He whispers soothing words and runs a hand through his hair, hoping it will work. The man eventually calms down and falls asleep. He hates what hurt him more and more every day.
He wakes up more and more often. He can answer basic questions now but he's not all there yet. Grace is pretty sure he only understands half of what they are saying to him. His days can be summed up to sitting up, eating a little, staring at the wall, passively looking at Grace while he talks, eating again and going to sleep. That's it but it's progress. He remains hopeful. It stays like this for a while.
Until Grace is startled awake in the middle of the night by a blood-curdling noise. His brain is screaming, distressed on a molecular level, reminding him that humans are animals. He runs to the man's room. Here on the ground, the man is crying with such anguish and rawness that it's gut-wrenching. The sounds are being ripped out of his throat between violent sobs. Hearing a human being in such visceral pain feels like torture. These are the sounds only someone dying would make, even if Grace knows deep down that this isn’t the case. He's probably suffering so deeply mentally and emotionally that his brain is interpreting it as physical pain. It's filling him with the urgent need to help, fix or protect. It's triggering his instinct in a way it has not been in a while.
He wearily steps closer to him, checking for any signs of aggression and when he sees none, he crouches and puts his hand on his shoulder, carefully. When he sees no aversion to his touch, he slowly tries to hug the other man. The cries don't stop but they aren't as loud. He buries his face in Grace's shoulder and they stay like that until it's soaked with tears. Eventually, the crying dies down to little choking sounds as he tries to stop crying, holding onto his shirt. He's like a heartbroken child desperate for affection and reassurance.
Grace holds him tenderly and tries to curl himself around him, to hide and protect him from the rest of the world. After what feels like hours, he eventually starts to fall asleep in Grace's arms, utterly exhausted. When his eyes are about to close, he whispers, with a raw throat.
" 'm sorry.... Thank you..."
And he's asleep. Who apologises for crying? He doesn't answer because if he speaks, he'll cry. Grace doesn't move or leave. He'll stay with him for as long as he needs him to. He looks so young and at peace, sleeping in his arms like that. Grace has to remind himself that he's against violence, no matter how much he wants to avenge the man he's holding.
Considering that Simon comes from a world where space travel has been a thing for centuries, he knows his way around a spaceship pretty well.
Since they found him, he's made it his mission to maintain the ship until they make it to Erid. He's been working diligently since his health stabilised. Grace and Rocky tried to tell him to rest more and that it wasn't necessary. But he said working is the only thing preventing him from thinking about what happened to him and keeping him sane. They couldn't really keep arguing with him after that.
He tends to lose track of time while he works, too absorbed in it. It’s like everything around him disappears for a moment. Grace completely understands; he's exactly the same. Though Simon is still recovering, he checks on him often and tries to encourage him to take breaks.
He's been running diagnostics and recalibrating things. Grace often hears him grumble about how ancient this ship is and how unnecessarily complicated everything is. Grace once asked him where he learned to fix spaceships and he paused for a moment before answering. As if he were considering whether to tell him or not.
"There weren't enough people left to have a specialist taking care of or fixing ships in every space station and we couldn't afford to lose one. So, if something broke down, you had to know how to fix it. Especially if you happened to be travelling alone. Otherwise, you're dead. Couldn't afford to waste anything on a rescue mission. Not to just save some useless dumb bastard, they said. It would cost more than a spaceship. So, I read what I could about it, which isn't a lot, watched how the best did it and studied how they were built. That's it."
Grace had been floored. Simon basically explained being a self-taught aerospace engineer, like it was nothing to write home about.
"I know how to fix machines and ships are one of them. That's it. It's not like I'm a genius or something. I just did things that felt right, hoped it wasn't going to blow up and when it didn't, assumed I did it right."
Grace blanched at that and Rocky paused the tinkering he had been doing.
"Calm down," Simon said with an eye roll, "This was when I was still learning. This isn't what I'm doing right now. I know what I'm doing. I have the manual and your ship is outdated, but in perfect condition. It won't blow up if I change something. I've worked on way more advanced ships in shit conditions that could explode if you breathed on them wrong because it was held together with duct tape and desperation. You're fine."
Grace relaxes and Rocky continues working. He remembers telling Simon about the manual. Since he started reading it, he's been catching Simon putting it down and complaining about how unintuitive this ship is or loudly asking, "Who made this?" Grace keeps telling him that the best of the best made it, and he sighs that this version of humanity still has so much to learn about space travel.
Today, Grace is checking on how far along they are in their journey to Erid, making sure everything is going smoothly. He is sitting in the pilot seat, trying to push the buttons on the ceiling, but they're not working. He hears Simon climb the ladder and stops to watch him once he reaches the top.
"What is it?"
"They aren't working,"
"Fuck, okay, let's see."
His eyes lock on the dysfunctional panel as he joins Grace under it. Before he can register what is happening, Simon climbs onto the chair, straddling him. He stretches out to reach the panel above their heads, takes off the cover. He starts working on it and Grace forgets to breathe for a second. He's now on eye level with his um impressive pecs and wide shoulders. He can see the outline of his harness and nipples under his shirt. Grace digs his nails into the armrests. This is too dangerous. He needs to look somewhere else.
He looks down and immediately has to close his eyes for a second to calm down. This isn't better. Simon's shirt rode up, exposing his navel and a part of his stomach. The happy trail and the healthy layer of fat on his stomach make his gums tingle with the desire to just bite and–No, he's not finishing this thought.
He looks lower and the sight of his bulge shoots heat throughout his body. Why does he wear his jeans so low? Stop! He needs to get it together! To look away! He can tell through his jeans that his thighs are huge and probably muscular. Okay, down is bad, maybe up his better.
Oh gosh, why out of every person Grace could have found in space did it have to be the only person who manages to look good from this angle? Simon is fearful and makes himself small except when he's working. The way he breathes confidence, quick-thinking and resourcefulness is beyond attractive. It doesn't help that he's stunning with his sharp nose, defined jaw, gentle eyes and soft-looking hair. Or that he's incredibly gentle with everything he touches, patient and extremely smart, unlike what he says.
He's also talking but Grace isn't listening; he can't. The smell of his skin slips down his lungs and Grace has never done drugs in his life but right now he gets it, he completely understands why it's so easy to get addicted. Higher. His bulging bicep. He swallows with difficulty. Forearm muscles are dancing under his skin. His breathing is getting heavy. Hand, veiny and visible tendons working. Calluses that would feel divine tracing naked skin. Meticulous fingers harbouring countless tiny scars that Grace wants to trace with his tongue. He just knows that the metal of his prosthetic will feel delicious on his feverish skin.
"Are you even listening?"
It shocks him out of his fantasy and when his eyes meet Simon's, shame overtakes him. He looks down, again, big mistakes and tries to concentrate on his own laps. A hand cups his jaw and makes him look up. His touch feels like sunlight on his touch-starved skin. His brain splutters, overwhelmed by the feeling and Grace has to swallow a whine back down. His eyes fall into his and Simon's face is firm and serious but his eyes stay gentle. They always are. They are so close, his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. This is bad. He wants to reach out, cup his face in his hands, guide him down, devour his lips and lose himself exploring his skin.
"Look and listen. You need to know this in case it happens again and I can't help you," he chastises. He then angles Grace's head so that he can see inside the panel again. This is really bad. He feels himself lean into it. Oh, he knew it, the calluses do feel amazing. His grip is rather strong. He could easily force his jaw open by pressing his fingers in his cheeks. Oh gosh, is he getting hard? Please, not right now!
"Grace! Really? What's with you? Am I boring you or something?"
Crap, he's pissing him off. He needs to fix this. Say something.
"You're sitting in my lap,"
Simon goes completely silent and Grace freezes at his own words. He watches as Simon slowly and carefully looks down at their position. Next thing Grace knows, Simon is on the other side of the room. Wow, he's fast. He didn't even see him move.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Simon exclaims but then rubs his hand on his face. "No, it's not your fault. It's me. I did this and made you uncomfortable. Fuck! I'm sorry, Grace. I can't believe I did this," he continues, looking embarrassed, not angry.
"It's fine, I wasn't uncomfortable. I was just-," Grace interrupts himself before he says something stupid.
"What?" he asks, his voice wavering."Too scared to speak?" Simon asks and he looks heartbroken at the idea. Shoulder down and fear in his eyes just at the thought of scaring him. His body curls on itself with crippling guilt.
No, no, no! They made so much progress, he can't let this destroy it. He needs to say something! Fix it! He's the one who was perving on a man recovering from severe injuries, PTSD and who was just doing his job... While being on top of him, but still.
"No, I wasn't! It was just um distracting," he splutters, digging himself into a hole.
This is so incriminating, he's done for. Okay, he can fix this!
"Since, you know, it's been a while since I was last touched," Grace continues.
Terrible phrasing, Simon will never want to speak to Grace again. Simon stares at him in silence and Grace watches in horror as his eyes widen in realisation. It's over for him.
"Oh. Oh! Oh, okay. So, that's, um, that's why uh?" he stutters, looking away.
Is it too late to throw himself out of the airlock? Hasn't this man been through enough? Now he has to put up with Grace's stage four horniness. What is wrong with him?
"I'm so sorry," is all Grace finds to say as he buries his face in his hands. Ashamed of himself. He literally has no excuses.
"It's fine."
"It's really not."
"Grace," Simon starts but he interrupts him.
"I'm just going to go now," Grace says, unable to look him in the eyes right now.
He turns around to walk to the ladder.
"Okay, but you better not make this a bigger deal than it is, Ryland. It's fine really, I mean it," Simon says firmly but with a warmth in his voice.
Grace freezes in front of the ladder and considers his words for a second.
"Okay," he whispers before climbing down.
Grace climbs down the ladder and throws himself on a chair next to Rocky. Grace is going to spend the rest of his life with Simon and he just had to embarrass himself in the worst way possible in front of him. This is a catastrophe. All of this because he can't control his feelings for Simon. Simon, who forgave him even after making things incredibly uncomfortable between them.
What kind of things would trigger Simon's PTSD, aside from the obvious things like blood/water/swimming/being alone etc. Things from before the Lung, and things from prison, etc...
(For fanfic purposes :))
Oh, man, I've been waiting for someone to ask this!
Not only do I know all about PTSD for personal reasons, but I'm also an abnormal psychology graduate (I doubled up with my writing degree for this exact purpose!)
Get ready, it's a bible. It's also meant to explore niche things that might not fit in Iron Lung directly, but could be grounds for further analysis/inspiration for other ideas. This is all just fuckoff notepad writing, so don't take these ideas as law, rather as whumpy, gritty, evil inspo! *evil laugh*
Note: These are movie-extrapolated headcanons and opinionated psychological horror writings. I also attach links to posts with further contextual explanation to things that might not make sense. Enjoy your hurt/comfort and hurt/no comfort resource!
If you are sensitive to common PTSD triggers, don't read this. There's so much. So much.
Simon's Anxiety/Fear/PTSD Triggers: The Masterlist of Bad Memories
From Parental Death:
For individuals experiencing traumatic bereavement, even happy memories can be triggers. Sounds crazy, but true.
Traumatized brains like to immediately counter a pleasant memory of the trauma source (that being a dead parent) with the intrusive, horrifying, or painful images. We see this happen repeatedly in the movie when Simon thinks of his mother, and is immediately ripped into thinking about atrocities. His mother's soothing voice is thrown straight in with The Horrors because they are connected. I have a post talking about this exact memory sequence. His mother, the knife, the blood, the holster, his guilt... it's all the same thing in his subconscious.
It's something Simon doesn't even know about. This whole post is going to be full of things Simon wouldn't know about.
That being said, Simon's vice is nostalgia. He's always thinking of better times, chasing the calm he once knew. Simon was hurting himself and mentally "pressing his thumb into the bruise" for some kind of relief, because he was never taught fuck-all about mental health. He doesn't know his lamenting is causing flashbacks.
This often borders on maladaptive daydreaming or an attempt at affect regulation that backfires. Because his only source of comfort (the past) is contaminated by trauma, Simon likely suffers from anhedonia (the inability to feel pleasure from things he used to love).
Direct emotional triggers that might make Simon feel uneasy:
Humming or wordless singing, especially in a low/soft female voice
Specific perfumes, soaps, or laundry-detergent smells that might match a memory (from Mars, when things were plentiful)
Being handed something precious to "hold onto" (unfortunately, if gifts in the Iron Lung universe are so rare that this knife meant everything to him, he'd be scared of accepting them.)
Kitchen knives specifically (as opposed to combat knives, which might feel more neutral/functional to him. His mom used to cook for him and this sort of gets connected to the holster-knife memory.)
Holsters, sheaths (He'd be reminiscing on his own similar item after having a look at another).
Being thanked or praised, survivor's guilt (He would be feeling like "No, please don't thank me. I don't deserve that.", then respond with a very, very hesitant and shocked "yeah of course".)
Someone calling him a pet name or term of endearment she had for him unexpectedly
Being comforted physically (worse if it's a woman), push/pull between craving and fearing it (fundamental fear of abandonment)
From Eden Station:
The smell of dirt/compost, the feeling of it under his fingernails
The smell of rot/meat (you never forget the smell of a dead body.)
Crowded spaces/too many people piled on top of each other in a room (he has some apocalypse-based social anxiety in my head. He has to actively notice people's behaviors at all times, for safety purposes, and when there's too many people to keep track of, he starts feeling unsafe).
Hymns/choirs (Dude would immediately think god is coming to smite his ass, or would get thrown back into a flashback where he watched these/participated in them. Maybe not panic but would have a physiological response like getting the sweats.)
The concept of performing autopsies / of skinning/flaying / of field-dressing animals (He'd be deeply uncomfortable after The Incident. Just a personal headcanon of mine!)
The act of digging holes in the soil <- this is a funerary ritual. He doesn't want to be a gardener. He'd be thinking about all the corpses he's seen under the dirt the whole time he's trying to plant things. It's not a good time.
The sight of raw meat in general puts him off. We have no idea what else Eden was using those bodies for...
Gardening tools, shovels, trowels, anything that "digs" (uneasy graveyard type vibes)
Greenhouses or any warm, humid, enclosed plant-smelling space (See this post talking about Simon's unease around plants.)
Religious phrases, chants, call-and-response speech patterns (We see Simon in a PTSD reciting prayers to himself in the movie.)
Candle smoke / incense <- I'd assume they were making this out of tree bark / "human fat candles" maybe? Maple incense is a known thing.
Kneeling postures/being forced to kneel <- HE WOULD HATE THIS. HAAATE IT.
Ceremonial-looking items ("I got a bad feeling about this" type shit. Unless it's his brother's Eden Pendant or other sentimental item).
Worms, insects, or anything moving in soil (I doubt they had anything alive like this on Eden but I think the sight of watching something move under the dirt would be STARTLING and scary for him, because the only thing he can picture under the dirt are dead bodies. "OHHHFUCKFUCKFUCK THEY'RE COMING ALIVE". Simon's a superstitious guy at his core, even if he convinces himself he's not, especially after the Lung...)
From Living in Space:
Absolute silence (this means that the life support systems have stopped working! Those machines always make noise or a hum. Simon would FLY into a panic if things got too quiet for too long.)
Vents and air ducts, comforting when humming, terrifying when they stop
The smell of hot metal (astronauts often report that space "smells" like burnt steak. I imagine Simon spent too long wondering what suffocating in space would be like. A la Confined Space Hazards, where he is repeatedly threatened with getting jettisoned out into space)
The sound of an airlock/pressurized door, for the reason above (imagine you're on a plane with a bunch of suicidal nutjobs. Wouldn't you be waiting for one of them to pop the emergency door open mid-flight? It would be so easy to get rid of the Butcher that way.)
Ear popping / pressure changes (the early warning signs of a hull breach or a failing pressurization seal.)
Thin/stale air might make him start reliving memories of space station life. There's a unique tinge to it.
Strobe lights / flashing lights (a common "HEY SOMETHING IS WRONG" warning signal from space stations)
Simon would be VIGILANT about equipment failures. He'd be on-alert for threats such as explosive decompression, flash fires, toxic leaks
He'd have a hard time with sensory deprivation. Living indefinitely in a "tin can" with constant, loud life-support noise, extreme lack of privacy, and an inability to see the sky most of his life would cause some issues there.
Cooking meat (this guy might honestly go vegan after the shit he's seen, but I think passing up protein would be too detrimental to his health, so he'd eat it anyway)
The sight of ash/soot
The smell of an overheating appliance
The smell of spent fuel / starship fuel
The sight of yellow fat / cooking/rendering fat
An inability to map out an exit to a room would have him stressing (this ties into the obvious claustrophobia, but Filament would have fucked with his head more than that).
Violent movies, or graphic imagery depicting combat or disaster.
Unexpected physical contact
Specific dates tied to the incident, such as the anniversary of Filament Station's destruction (especially if this was something he knew about previously, like a planned deployment he had to sit and be anxious about for a long time, again he wouldn't panic but it would be a bout of depression he'd be confused about the origin of at first).
The sound of stomping boots on metal
Simon's own freeze response ("Don't just stand there, do something!" <- This is what causes Simon to have "lash-outs", because "fight" is the easiest way to break out of that, and people died when he froze in the past.)
From Prison/COI:
Very obviously here: screaming/yelling
Slamming/rattling/metal doors
Lack of personal space/invading personal space/his living area
Taking his belongings without asking / theft, even if it's small, like swiping/borrowing a hair tie.
Loss of autonomy, not being able to choose when to sleep, what to wear, when to eat, etc.
Witnessing/hearing violence (this overlaps heavily with everything else...)
Aggressive/negative interactions with authority figures
Soldering irons / hot tools / power tools (both from what they did to him and seeing sparks fly from Jack's welding. Ties into the explosion/fire thing too)
Deadbolts, heavy locks, anything that would tell his brain "YOU ARE TRAPPED"
Empty beds (he witnessed his captured compatriots get dragged out into the Iron Lung never to return. He'd be immediately checking to find this person to make sure they are still there if this is unusual behavior.)
Headcounts, anxiety spikes if a number doesn't match what he expects (someone went missing/didn't come back from the Convict Realization Program/died. This overlaps with Eden's supposed death rate)
Handcuffs, zip ties, rope, any binding material
Being patted down or searched
Small windowless rooms (Obligatory)
Orders given without explanation ("sit," "don't move," "wait here" would PISS HIM OFF)
Surveillance cameras or the feeling of being watched on a monitor. Simon wouldn't like cameras in general.
Specific phrases used by his captors that resurface in unrelated contexts
The sound of keys jingling (physiological response, again with the locks thing)
Antiseptic or industrial cleaner smell (from coronary clean-up, from getting blasted with it)
Someone standing over him while he's seated or lying down (that's grounds for Simon swinging at the guy)
From the Lung:
Emergency alarms ("HULL BREACH" // "FIRE")
Smell/sight of blood/meat
The texture/sight of orange/brown rust
Radio comms, especially bad when orders are being barked
Scabby textures/stringy red items (things as insignificant or niche as shredded beetroot might make him queasy)
Round porthole windows (he would see monsters in it. He'd see Ava's blind eye in it.)
Floor grates/drains
Tunnels (he'd bitch about this and need a minute, but he'd be able to power through if necessary)
Live wires / sparking (again with the big Venn diagram of explosion/hot imagery)
The Oxygen Meter Sound. The Blipping Noise. That one. Any kind of "click!" or computer blip would have him immediately holding his breath for a second
The amplified sound of his own breathing (e.g., wearing a mask, helmet, visor)
MRI machines, CT scanners, or other tube-like medical equipment (claustrophobia generalization)
The color red in large or unexpected amounts
Reflective or distorted surfaces, "funhouse mirror" visuals, warped metal, even a screen catching light oddly
Being looked at by someone with a cloudy or blind eye (Ava's face HAUNTS him.)
Dripping water sounds
Old plumbing groans
The sensation of something brushing past him in low light
Glass breaking or cracking sounds (from the porthole shattering and threatening to just end his life immediately with the SM-13 flooding, also the immediately guilt-punch of accidentally breaking his brother's pendant would come to mind)
Talk of zombies, ghosts, or coming back from the dead (after having a full conversation with the dead SM-8 crew... yikes. He'd be terrified then, of his victims coming back to "get him")
Connected Triggers
The "Meat, Blood, and Rot" Problem
Connected Sources: Eden Station → Filament Station → Prison -> The Iron Lung
This is Simon's heaviest overlap. The smell of rot/corpses from Eden Station, the rendering fat/cooking meat from the fires of Filament, the literal blood ocean of the Lung, and the death in the COI prisons all feed into one massive aversion to raw meat and blood.
Structural Integrity
Connected Sources: Living in Space → Filament Station → The Iron Lung
Any sound signaling a breach = instant panic. The hyper-vigilance of listening for failing life support in deep space overlaps with Filament's destruction, which then connects directly to the hull breach warnings inside the Lung.
Confined Spaces
Connected Sources: Living in Space → Prison/COI → The Iron Lung
Simon's claustrophobia is a stack of different terrors. The deprivation of living in space connects directly to being locked in windowless COI prison cells, which routes right into the ultimate claustrophobic trap of the hemorover itself.
Hot Metal, Sparks, Live Wires
Connected Sources: Living in Space → Prison/COI → The Iron Lung
The smell of hot metal from space station hazards (the fear of getting jettisoned or suffocating) connects directly to the physical trauma of COI soldering irons/power tools/welding imagery, which then links to the sparking, uninsulated live wires starting fires inside the hemorover... which loops straight back around to suffocating as the fire eats oxygen.
Simon's very anti-fire. Funny, considering Markiplier is a water sign. /j
Abandonment / Missing People
Connected Sources: Parental Death -> Eden Station → Prison/COI
The high death rate on Eden Station links directly to his time in prison, where a mismatched headcount or an empty bed meant someone was most certainly dead. They were in a(n implied) war.
He also has a generalized fear of abandonment from his mother's death. This ties into Simon not being able to shut up when he's stressed, because he needs somebody, anybody.
The overlap here between Parental Death and the Prison/COI headcounting thing is huge. In a prison full of Edenite cultists who are trained to kamikaze, silence means someone vanished or died. In space, absolute silence means something is very wrong. Simon talks because noise equals life, in his head.
If he is talking, he is alive; if someone responds, they are alive. If there's noise, there's people, and things are OK.
Unexpected Physical Contact vs. The Need For It
Connected Sources: Parental Death → Filament Station -> Prison/COI
This creates a really really nasty push-pull scenario. His craving/fear of being physically comforted (stemming from his mother's touch being tangled up with the trauma of her death) intersects with prison, but not only that, his freeze/fight response from the Filament Station disaster.
It's a whole complex "need-hate-need-want-hate-get-away-from-me-please-need" shit-show here. I'm not shocked he developed violent tendencies. This is why earlier, I said that Simon would have an issue about wanting to be near people, but not too close.
