intermediate

[behawked]

space distorter

syxjaewon​:

(...) “mrs. norton,” claims another voice from further away, one of the reporters who’d attended the launch who had, unexplainably and unfortunately, survived the transfer. thomas can’t remember the lad’s full name, but it’s william something. he’s standing in front of a large tilted semi-circular construct on the wall, that at first glance might be some sort of decoration, indented into the metal surface. it’s huge, towering above him, with strange, dark glyphs and symbols all over it, and despite its unknown origin or meaning, william has both hands pressed to one of its edges. “i think this is a door?”

eloise reassures them she’s fine, but he keeps rubbing her back in gentle, circular motions in hopes of helping soothe the nausea he knows must be hitting her with extra force just then. he turns his head to look at thomas again only when the man calls out to the departing mae, his sharp gaze wandering over his brother’s features. there’s been many stops now, though not as many as he had hoped there would be when he created the machine. yet each and every single one of them definitely a lot more dangerous and eventful than what he had hoped for as well. he just never knows what thomas is thinking, couldn’t figure his brother out even if he had a lifetime to study him, probably. that doesn’t take away that he trusts tom with his life. he knows the others get annoyed by him, has even been told so by several of them - including eloise - but he doesn’t see what bothers them. he’s been accused of bias and has never tried to deny that.

“if i find any brandy, thomas my dear,” mae calls back the next moment, her voice unimpressed and cold as always, “you are the last person i would share it with.” luckily her attention is pulled then by william, the journalist who was going to write an article about the whole launch, and she is stopped from getting into another argument with his brother when she goes to see what the journalist has discovered. that’s his cue to return his attention back to his fiancée, glad to know no new war will break out among their own for now and he can first make sure eloise is all well again before he bothers with anything else. her reaction is more proof that the jumps seem to be taking more out of them every time, and he’s not sure what to do about that - his experience is with machines, astrology and teleportation, not with biology.

“do you need some water, darling?” he asks his fiancée softly, lifting his hand from her back to brush the soft blonde curls away from her face, trying to catch her gaze again in hopes that it’ll be gentler than her earlier glare this time - if only because thomas is not part of the conversation this time.

mae meanwhile walks up to the journalist, her eyes already taking in the strange indentions of the metal, its symbols and shapes painting no picture to her. however, she’s spent over two decades in a loveless marriage with little to do other than keep herself busy with reading about all kinds of subjects. there’s something to be said about knowing four main world languages and being able to distinguish many different scripts from each other - if not read them. “what makes you think it’s a door?” she inquires of the man by her side, even as she presses her palm against the surface with the same lack of hesitance as he portrays as well. she runs her hand over the surface, feels the texture of it against her skin. without a moment’s hesitance, she grabs hold of the rudimentary battle axe strapped to her back, pulling it from its clasps so she can defend herself should whatever lies beyond this ‘door’ - or maybe whatever sprouts from it - be dangerous.

[behawked]

walk on the wild side

it’s a shitty ass planet they find themselves on, this much is true. but it’s the closest one to where the disaster happened, and so he assumed he’d run into the man he needs there sooner or later. he is not prepared for how soon exactly, however - but then again; maybe he’s missing a few days in between, it wouldn’t be the first time. in any case, when he enters the marketplace, the first thing he spots is yang jaewon. it would be hard not to spot the man, not to see the sharpness of him among all these dull people. or maybe that’s just the microchip in his brain zooming in on all things familiar. he doesn’t question either, doesn’t question anything other than who the hell the man next to him is.

the fact that jaewon knows his face is more than enough, he doesn’t need some other lawless creature gaining the ability to point him out as a traitor. the risk he takes is bad enough already without a million insignificant little shitheads being able to betray him on a whim. and so he doesn’t approach straight away, doesn’t head for the captain like a moth drawn to a light in the darkness. instead he stays back a bit, follows them around until he knows this man is one of jaewon’s crew, someone he seems at ease enough with to chuckle at. only then does he move closer, undetected among this crowd, dressed and walking like he’s one of them. but the way he shifts his coat, the way he lets his pin catch the light and reflect it right into jaewon’s eyes is deliberate. and when the man’s sharp gaze moves over to him, he allows his face to be shown just long enough to find recognition in those golden eyes.

then he slinks back into the crowd, disappears from his original spot and moves over to one of the many places that sell food and drink. it’s not yet fully lunchtime, but it’s close enough that there’s some people there to eat already so the two of them joining won’t make that much of a difference. he takes a seat, orders a drink and two cups, and pours them both a glass. it takes surprisingly long for jaewon to join him, and he’d wonder if the man got bad at tracking if not for knowing that that’s impossible. when eventually jaewon sits down, it’s as undisturbed as ever, and the words eventually flowing from the man’s lips have him breathe out a small smirk.

“i wouldn’t know, i don’t eat that shit,” he says, quite crudely. the art of fine speech has always ever been reserved for the side of him that deals with the alliance, not for back alley meetings with fugitives. he nudges the cup a little closer to the other man. “thought i might see you show up here eventually,” he says then, pouring his own cupful down his throat. only when he’s swallowed it all and refilled his cup does he speak again. “what are you willing to part with for some directions through that asteroid field not far from here?” it’s all code, of course, seemingly harmless words that really mean he’s got information about the shattered ship nearby. he knows the names he’s got to declare, though, and the way he framed his words indicate to jaewon that he personally thinks his information is quite valuable indeed.

[behawked]

space distorter

syxjaewon​:

(...) at least lucas looks alright, whole and stable as any of them, which isn’t a thought thomas ever worried he’d have to wonder about until this whole mess began. for some reason, every time they fall through the distorter, an intense fear comes over him that he’ll never see lucas again, that somehow his younger brother will be left behind or stranded in a different area than him, and he’ll have to fight something to get to him or worse yet, never see him again. everything is too uncertain, too confusing. there are no rules here yet. “that one hurt a bit worse than the others previously, huh?” he asks, hopeful that he’s not the only one slowly getting worse during this whole thing. “god, i need a drink,” he runs his fingers through his hair, thinking that he’d take just about anything right now, even water. “does any of this look familiar to you? where’s eloise?”

the aftermath of transportation is always horrible, but seemingly harder to bear each time, as if their bodies will only be able to handle the jump for a certain amount of times before they’ll combust - or something of the sort. this is a fear that haunts him often, that pushes him to keep working, keep trying, keep going, go go go until he finds some way to get them home, to make it so they no longer have to use this godforsaken thing. though he is one of the main people to have helped design the space distorter, he is also one of the ones to regret its existence the most, he thinks. perhaps the only one dragged from one horrid place to the next who is actively searching for a way to fix this whole royal mess.

when he regains his spatial awareness, thomas is bent forward two seats over looking a little pale. eloise to his left has her eyes closed, clearly also still recovering from this last bout of transportation that has taken them who knows where. he’s always the first to recover, because unlike the others, he’s used to looking up at the stars, knowing they’re hurtling through it at speeds somewhat beyond their capacity to understand. he’s always known motion outside of his own body; he’s always been prepared to one day be one of those people shooting off into space, discovering life among the stars he so loved to look at. that ideology had changed from something innocent to something pressing once he had noticed the change in the stars. years he’d spent; years of his life given to science, to trying to figure out what was coming and to find away around it. and then, on the day of their first real test of the space distorter, it had swept them all up and taken them with it.

he had not been the test pilot, of course, he was engaged, could not leave eloise alone and bereft of a husband. he didn’t want her left behind to be called the widow of the crazy boy with his head in the stars instead of his feet on the ground. and so it had been frederick, the slightly crazy youth who’d been the main investor for the whole distorter project who’d boarded the transport, equipped with all the necessary things for a full crew and set for destination moon. they’d all did the countdown, excited faces, worry and hope mingling, and when frederick had set off, the world had gone crazy. he doesn’t remember much of it clearly, just remembers feeling like a hurricane swept in and lifted them off their feed, then feeling like he was being assaulted from all sides. he remembers holding on to eloise’s arm and hand for dear life, not wanting her to get hurt, trying to wrap her into his arms so he could protect her. and then he’d slammed into the ground of whatever place they’d ended up in, the breath knocked out of him along with his extensive lunch.

there’d been about forty to fifty people at the showing, but on the hunk of stardust they ended up on, there had only been fifteen - frederick included. of those fifteen, only ten survived that first drop.

“on my left as always,” he replies to his brother’s words as he unhooks his safety belts and turns to his fiancée, reaching out a hand to put it on her knee. “are you alright, darling? do you need a bucket?” they’ve slowly learned not to puke their guts out every time the distorter smacked them down somewhere, but it seems like the machine is making it harder every time, so he wouldn’t fault her for being unable to keep her composure. “nothing here looks familiar to me,” he says even as he’s still running a hand over his beloved’s back. “we once again did not end up where we planned to.” that, too, is nothing new anymore. he’d be more surprised at this point if they did end up back home on earth at this point.

there’s a loud scoff from behind him and he instantly recognises mae norton’s voice. once upon a time she was the wife of one of the family friends. lloyd did not survive that first trip, but the demure and proper mae has somehow transformed into one of their most reliable warriors. her fear response is definitely fight, not flight, and the more they’re out in the stars with just the ten of them, the more she seems to move away from everything proper. these days she’s wearing pants - pants! - does a lot of their hunting and is as immune to thomas’ flirting tactics as a rock is to a sunburn. he’s still in the midst of trying to figure out whether that is a good thing or not, because the longer they’re out here the less she is willing to take orders, too.

“we never do,” mae says derisively. “time to get out and see where we ended up. with some luck there’s some edible stuff around here. hopefully something we can convert to water, too.” he hears the sound of her safety belt snapping loose and then she’s up and about already. he doesn’t try to stop her. he’s not the leader of this ragtag band of whatever they should be called. he’s just the one with the knowledge on how to do all the science things, he lets the others settle the hierarchy among themselves. as long as no one messes with his attempts to recalibrate the distorter to get them home, he doesn’t care about anything else except for getting thomas and eloise home with him - alive.