Callsign: Capybara

CORSAIR’s calmest Artillery pilot (he/him) Dadao Squadron Artillery/Fire Support Pilot of “In Sickness and in Hell”

[bemused-rodent]

It seems I’ve been convinced to make an omninet blog through the unfailing mechanism of peer pressure. I think I’m the last one, which given Choir Boy is one of us is almost appalling.

I’m Callsign Capybara, though Cappy is close enough and easier on the tongue. I have the dubious fortune of being a member of Dadao Squadron, and the only one who bothered investing in ranged firepower.

I’ve set a number of marksmanship records on the Tenacity, and welcome challenges! Besides that, I mostly just read.

I’m partnered with a LUCIFER-class NHP, though they’re resting after a strenuous sim (as am I, frankly). They’ll show up at some point, I’m sure, and I’ll let them introduce themselves.

//CAPYBARA

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

~♡ ...

~♡ Mon cher, Teja... I-I...

[Joséphine's voice is trembling. It's not her usual sniffling at a minor inconvenience, she seems...]

~♡ I am afraid to bring this up... I was silent for most of the conversation in the medbay, but... I am w-worried. And I cannot hold my tongue. I-I... hope this does not offend you...

[She takes a deep breath before she continues.]

~♡ You told me that you are doing this because being a Ghost would be more similar to what you more made for... Seeking this... you have been gravely injured. And the trials will become only more dangerous. Y-you will continue to put yourself in danger for the sake of the familiar.

~♡ I... I cannot h-help but think... that this situation is familiar. I. I truly hope that comparing our situations is not insensitive b-but... I harmed myself so, so, so very deeply because I was terrified of change, and I do not wish that for you.

~♡ I am sorry if I speak out of turn...

Please don’t apologize, Joséphine.

I am sorry, truly. I know that my ambitions have been a subject of great internal debate for Dadao squadron. I acknowledge it as what it is, ambition, as much as it is seeking a way for my skills to be put to proper use.

I have done a poor job explaining, I believe, and I do not expect you to ever understand to the fullest extent. I will try, though, you deserve an explanation.

I have been injured, yes, but this is inconsequential in my mind. This is not reassuring, but allow me to elaborate. It is the duty of my make — my role, or position, it may be said — to perform one’s duty to the exclusion of all else, to assist one another in doing so. Aloysius assisted me in this manner, ensured that I would be able to continue fighting past the point one may reasonably expect. It is also the duty of my make, of any make, to ensure that we are fulfilling that role. A part is built for a purpose, and if it is not fulfilling that purpose then it is discarded.

My situation may be familiar to you, but it is not the same. Familiarity is an emotional concept, a gut reaction fueled by perceived patterns. It is useful, it is uncontrollable, and it is not necessarily logical. I will help in any way that I can to dispel this notion of familiarity, I owe it to you to put your mind at ease.

//CHOIR BOY\\

[rubans-en-feu]

~♡ Je- Toi-

[Her breathing is so shaky. She wants to let the fear hold her back but she can't. She just can't anymore.]

~♡ I-Imbécile. sniff

~♡ Imbécile! Your health may be of no consequence to you but what of the people who love and cherish you? What of us?? And how am I being illogical??? How is you nearly killing yourself to live up to another's standard ANY different than le masque que je portais pour mon père???

~♡ ...

~♡ ...

~♡ ...désolée...

~♡ Sorry...

~♡ I-I am sorry I do not know what came over me I should not have yelled I am sorry mon cher ami...

//transmission cut.

[bemused-rodent]

CB- I'm sorry to interject, but Tutu raises a really good point I wasn't otherwise sure how to bring up.

It is one thing to think of your own well-being as irrelevant, that's your right. It is another to treat it as irrelevant when you care about people who care about you. Your well-being is important to us, which means that when you willfully injure yourself in these ways it hurts us too.

You cannot change this: it's an innate byproduct of giving a shit about someone. You can either stop caring yourself, or try to listen to us.

And about that whole make and role business- no. That's too far, I think; I'll bring that up another time.

I will only say this, take it as you will: in my opinion, the point of life is living, and all else is secondary.

//CAPYBARA\\

[corsair-mercenary-companies]

CMC High Command Meeting

OOC: So Imma place all the premise and shite above the cut and below that is where this'll open up. Any and all CORSAIR personnel can get involved in this. This narrativey is to set up some reworks to the CORSAIR combat structure and other fun stuff but is also to let people have their mercenaries yell at eachother pointlessly.

This will probably break into several subthreads so if it's getting long we'll have to make sure to break it into another post just for our sanity sake.

{The director remains seated at the head of the old meeting hall. Built like a senate chamber more than just a meeting space. She's in her hardsuit though the prosthetic synthetic ivory pegleg and manual;y actuated synthetic ivory hand are both visible. Other staff members take their seats. Head of Gruntworks, Head of Shipping, Head of the Postal Service, Head of Gunnery, so on so forth. An actual physical slide projector projects on one wall one simple question. "How do we adapt to large scale combat?"}

{While there are several reasons for this meeting the first topic is clear. And the subtext of their foe in question even more obvious.}

[designation-ward]

Ward is seated near the outer edge of the room, closer to one of the entrances. This is the first time he's been seen in a reasonably public setting since the trial, and he's far less stable now than he was then.

The coat he approximates wearing is barely textured, like a poorly rendered sprite: a plane of solid black without shade or shadow. The rest of this body is similar, save for the face: it both looks the same, and as though it's aged decades in years.

He has little to contribute to this meeting, but he knows it will change CORSAIR yet again. That's the one thing making him pull himself together.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[CB has pulled its wheelchair up to the table, having shuffled one of the chairs away to make room. Its single, functioning hand prosthetic appears to be fully repaired, and the arrangement of gears, springs, and bronze laid out before it on the table appears to be its other hand. It quietly works at reassembling the prosthetic, attention split between the delicate work and the slideshow.]

[CB looks to be worlds more healed than the last time it made an appearance, its robes neat and its mask polished to a gleam. Its movements are delicate and tentative, though, obviously painful as it strains the extensive burn wounds across its body.]

[Aloysius’ projection is nowhere to be found, but that’s not uncommon. Given how CB’s eyes keep darting to the empty air at its side, he’s probably still present.]

//CHOIR BOY\\

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige stands behind Choir Boy, his arms hanging firmly at his sides. His stance is fully upright, not fidgeting or even moving at all. His chest does not rise and fall. It's unnerving.

The myriad of lenses across his helm dart across the room. A few seem to be trained in specific directions, most notably at particularly important figures. One appears to be staring into the pocket of empty air that Choir Boy seems to train on occasionally.

[center-sparkling-stage]

[ It is starting to look like all of Dadao may to some extent, be in attendance. Maybe they were invited as a unit; squeaky cogs in the mechanism of CORSAIR, here to speak on what might serve as oil. ]

[ Whatever the reasoning, Sparkler is here too. They stand more to Choir Boy's side, fiddling with something or another to keep their hands busy, occasionally looking around and beaming brightly whenever catching someone's eye. They're customarily brightly dressed, maybe a little taller than people expect- just short of 6'0 foot flat, pushed over the bar by thick-soled shoes ]

[ There are bags under their eyes largely hidden by bright and sparkly makeup, and their shoulders are a touch stiff. They seem politely wary beneath the pop-star veneer ]

// SPARKLER \\

[bemused-rodent]

Capybara has pulled up a chair near the rest of Dadao, and is simply reading on his omninet terminal. As the slideshow flicks on, he looks up, before looking back down and continuing to read. It was evidently not his idea to be here.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

~♡ ...

~♡ Mon cher, Teja... I-I...

[Joséphine's voice is trembling. It's not her usual sniffling at a minor inconvenience, she seems...]

~♡ I am afraid to bring this up... I was silent for most of the conversation in the medbay, but... I am w-worried. And I cannot hold my tongue. I-I... hope this does not offend you...

[She takes a deep breath before she continues.]

~♡ You told me that you are doing this because being a Ghost would be more similar to what you more made for... Seeking this... you have been gravely injured. And the trials will become only more dangerous. Y-you will continue to put yourself in danger for the sake of the familiar.

~♡ I... I cannot h-help but think... that this situation is familiar. I. I truly hope that comparing our situations is not insensitive b-but... I harmed myself so, so, so very deeply because I was terrified of change, and I do not wish that for you.

~♡ I am sorry if I speak out of turn...

Please don’t apologize, Joséphine.

I am sorry, truly. I know that my ambitions have been a subject of great internal debate for Dadao squadron. I acknowledge it as what it is, ambition, as much as it is seeking a way for my skills to be put to proper use.

I have done a poor job explaining, I believe, and I do not expect you to ever understand to the fullest extent. I will try, though, you deserve an explanation.

I have been injured, yes, but this is inconsequential in my mind. This is not reassuring, but allow me to elaborate. It is the duty of my make — my role, or position, it may be said — to perform one’s duty to the exclusion of all else, to assist one another in doing so. Aloysius assisted me in this manner, ensured that I would be able to continue fighting past the point one may reasonably expect. It is also the duty of my make, of any make, to ensure that we are fulfilling that role. A part is built for a purpose, and if it is not fulfilling that purpose then it is discarded.

My situation may be familiar to you, but it is not the same. Familiarity is an emotional concept, a gut reaction fueled by perceived patterns. It is useful, it is uncontrollable, and it is not necessarily logical. I will help in any way that I can to dispel this notion of familiarity, I owe it to you to put your mind at ease.

//CHOIR BOY\\

[center-sparkling-stage]

[A small package, meticulously wrapped and tied with a bow. There is a note tucked under one of the ribbons.]

I scared you. I have been scaring you. I wanted you to know that I noticed, and I am sorry. I hope you enjoy the gift. Now, if I pass my exams, you will not miss me.

//CHOIR BOY\\

[Contained in the package is a hand-sewn teddy bear, bearing a striking resemblance to Mr. Bearly. The stitches are neat and even but it’s still clear that this bear was CB’s very first attempt at sewing. The bear has a little hood sewn of what appears to be a scrap of one of CB’s robes, and all four paws are sewn in a shiny orange fabric.]

@tragedy-of-the-dreamer

*:･ﾟ✧ oh.... oh my god CB this is so incredibly sweet I'm at a loss for words

*:･ﾟ✧ I think this is the literal nicest thing anyone's ever done for me?? I'm going to treasure this I NEED you to know that, hold on the lil critter neeeeeds to go pride of place absolutely right this second hold on-

[ that's not how it works. you can miss someone standing right in front of you, if you can't close the distance ]

*:･ﾟ✧ OKAY I am BACK it's sat all comfy on my plushy chair yayy :3

*:･ﾟ✧ goddd okay okay I'm metaphorically hugging you because real doing it right now would probably hurt like FUCK (I saw you wanted to talk in person btw I'll be over eventually!! maybe after the big meeting now ughhh I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner I got caught up in a bunch of malarky :((( )

*:･ﾟ✧ BUT I'm like soo sorry if I've been dour lately I've been trying not to be like, a downer about it all y'know!! You've gotta make your decisions for you I know, you're likeee following your heart and stuff.

*:･ﾟ✧ and your heart leads away from us. That's just like, how it is I guess haha, not really like any of my business what you wanna do or go. even if it gets you so hurt that-

*:･ﾟ✧ oh okay wow that was like SO not relevant, I guess like?? what I'm trying to say is you don't owe me anything least of all an apology, likee maybe I've been a bit weird in hindsight I've like. Y'know already lost a whole squad over dumb social infighting already so I've maaaaaybe been a little bit keeping my mouth shut about any. misgivings I mighta sorta had maybe, which like is NOT fair on any of the squad let alone you and

*:･ﾟ✧ like we're probably only going to have you for a little while longer because you're like WAY competent with this kind of stuff so you're like probs going to pass and then you'll be an extension of higher command and that's likeee... not going to leave you much time or space for us

*:･ﾟ✧ but that's like!! so totally not up to me!! like jeez y'know who do I think I am getting all pouty over it it's YOUR life I'm literally just here lol??

*:･ﾟ✧ wowwww can I like learn how to shut up?? you LITERALLY just did the sweetest thing ever and here I am moping like a loser that is SO not sparkly

*:･ﾟ✧ anyways I'm going to like scrape myself up off the floor and just say thank you already!! it's like, really super considerate of you to be looking out for me and notice I wasn't feeling super great especially when I was trying to larp as the usual Sparkler like nothing at allll was wrong

*:･ﾟ✧ and this is like... genuinely, genuinely the sweetest thing I can imagine coming from that ?? I know I don't like Get it get it but you making those clockwork things that make you think of us has always stuck in my brain as something so heartfelt and likee idk, this feels... similar?? not the same but similar intentionwise like, in the making a connection

*:･ﾟ✧ idkkkk you KNOW I'm sentimental. I'm going to hold this close for totally sure

*:･ﾟ✧ just like... thank you. I've said it a few times but I want that to be the thing that sticks out of any of this, y'know? That it means the world to me.

*:･ﾟ✧ alright enough out of me lol

// SPARKLER \\

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A picture of CB in a wheelchair, now back in its usual robe and a spare bronze mask far shinier than the one that was broken. Its prosthetics have not been replaced, and bandages are still visible beneath the robe. Vestige can be glimpsed just behind CB, probably pushing the wheelchair.]

I lived, bitch

//CHOIR BOY\\

[bemused-rodent]

FUCK YEAH.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

Cappy, you should come by my quarters.

The whole squad should, I would like to see them.

//CHOIR BOY\\

[bemused-rodent]

I’ll grab them, yeah. Be there soon.

//CAPYBARA

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A picture of CB in a wheelchair, now back in its usual robe and a spare bronze mask far shinier than the one that was broken. Its prosthetics have not been replaced, and bandages are still visible beneath the robe. Vestige can be glimpsed just behind CB, probably pushing the wheelchair.]

I lived, bitch

//CHOIR BOY\\

[bemused-rodent]

FUCK YEAH.

[or-is-it-smoke]

I am posing a question to the Omninet.

Now, as one may gather, I am a man that has been many places.

Seen many things.

Heard many phrases.

But of all phrases, not one has evaded my understanding like the one I heard just the other week.

Omninet, what the fuck is "The Siggy Special"?

>VESTIGE<

[corsair-mercenary-companies]

{One incredibly long sigh}

//Deuces\\

[or-is-it-smoke]

This is not an answer to my question.

Unless it is.

>VESTIGE<

[bemused-rodent]

Vestige please, you can’t just-

you could’ve asked one of us offline or-

aisixushnekdp

//CAPYBARA

[rubans-en-feu]

~♡ I am literally so pretty and soft and pink and cute. Everyone loves me for this~

[bemused-rodent]

you say pretty and soft and i flash back violently to the singular time I tried sparring with you in a mech

[albatross-lancer]

[albatross-lancer]

Who made this. How did they get access to our account. How many times do we need to explain that we are not employees of IPS-N.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A picture of CB in the medical wing, almost entirely unrecognizable without its usual dress. It is heavily bandaged, a large portion of both its right arm and right leg have been amputated. It is clad in a medical gown clearly a couple sizes too big, and any part of its skin uncovered by the gown is bandaged regardless of whether it needs it or not. A makeshift head covering has been fashioned likely from unused sheets, though its long, dark hair is still visible in wisps escaping the fabric. A makeshift mask has been fashioned from the same white fabric, although a bloodied scrap of fabric with roughly cut eyeholes is perhaps the most terrifying way they could have gone about it.]

where am i .

//CHOIR BOY\\

[or-is-it-smoke]

Go outside.

To the left.

I am there.

>VESTIGE<

[rubans-en-feu]

~♡ Me too! 🥺

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

How, pray tell, am I meant to do that?

We have to talk. Get in here.

//CHOIR BOY\\

[or-is-it-smoke]

With your legs.

...

Oh.

Right.

Understood.

>VESTIGE<

[bemused-rodent]

An alarm goes off loudly in Cappy’s room, jolting him awake.

“Eh? Ah. They’re awake.”

>I’m on my way

//CAPYBARA

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A selfie of Aloysius in CB’s room, CB visible in the background laying on the bed. The sheets are stained a deep red around the edges of CB’s body, haphazardly jumbled and creased underneath the pilot. Aloysius appears all too calm for this situation.]

<<WE LIVED BITCH>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[Frantic little knocks on the door.]

~♡ Just barely, il semblerait! Please open up, CB.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The door’s lock audibly disengages, but the door does not open. Inside, Vestige and Aloysius can be heard viciously arguing. The fighting pauses briefly as the door unlocks.]

<<Let yourself in, already.>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[The door creaks open, and the tiny woman steps inside. She carries a pair of heels in her hands and walks barefoot. Her lovely, pink dress is ruffled and disheveled from all the running. Though she makes an attempt to hide it, her eyeliner has run down her face a touch. As she enters and sees the state of her friend, she lets out a small gasp.]

~♡ I- what have I missed? How are you feeling, CB? I know you won't go to medical, but do you have the supplies you need, at least?

[As much as she tries to hide it, the distress is evident in her voice.]

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige looks over at Tutu. The cold metal surface of his helmet makes it exceptionally difficult to gauge his demeanor.

"It can not treat itself, and I, out of courtesy, am choosing to not treat it at its behest."

He looks over to Aloysius. His voice betrays a twinge of anger.

"Aloysius has been giving me a particularly hard time."

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The scene in the room is somehow worse than Tutu expected. CB lies on the bed, shivering violently as the extensive burns sap the heat from its core. Its breathing is labored and rattling, breath coming in short little gasps. It doesn’t appear to be able to speak even if it wanted to, given how concerningly concave its chest seems to be. Blood seeps into the sheets of its bed, flowing sluggishly but still flowing despite the several empty Patch and Corrective casings scattered across the floor. The great assemblages of gears and pistons that cover the walls, moving art pieces CB created to decorate its room, are all running slightly out of sync with one another.]

[Aloysius’ projection crosses his arms across his chest, sitting at the edge of CB’s bed as Vestige accuses him, still remarkably calm and seemingly not deigning to pay attention to CB at all.]

<<Fuck off, I’m not giving you a hard time, I’m just saying that you’re never getting it to the medbay!>>

[He turns to Tutu, frustration evident in his over-the-top gesticulation.]

<<Maybe you can talk some fucking sense into him. Do you really think it’ll forgive you if you try to force it?>>

[bemused-rodent]

Loud footsteps grow increasingly audible, as Cappy enters the room. Closing the door behind him, he rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath for a minute, before turning to the group.

"Is it stable? If it's not, then it needs to get treated one way or another."

He sighs, looking over to Choir Boy.

"You can't keep throwing yourself at walls and refusing to actually be treated after, that's not sustainable even in the short term. I understand your reasons, but there has to be a way to keep you alive, buddy."

[rubans-en-feu]

[Tutu shifts nervously, uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of her dress. It's so rare for her to argue. With anyone. Especially Dadao: they're the people who she needs to keep loving her the most. The ones she's closest to are always who she's most terrified to contradict. But she's caught between making a friend angry or slowly watching it die. She'd really rather be crying and hyperventilating than speaking, but speak she does.]

~♡ Mon ami, I-I... I know how important it is that you not be seen but...

[Countless times she's listened to it talk about its religion. She clapped happily at the end of its powerpoint. It was never sure how much got through to her airheaded smile. Apparently it was something, at least.]

~♡ You will d-die like this. Ideally, you need a whole medical team but... if you will refuse that even at such risk to your own life... let Landsman do what xe can, at least. You must trust one of us enough at least, non? One of your own? Dadao is a family.

~♡ Please, cheri, I sniffle do not want to watch you suffer and die.

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige turns back over to Tutu.

"I could work well enough with my eyes closed. It is more of the principle of the thing, I suppose."

The shutters on the frontal cameras of his helmet close slightly, as if to mimic squinting. He's clearly deep in thought.

"If any person were to aid it, I believe it should be me. I do not trust the rest of you to remain composed."

[rubans-en-feu]

~♡ Fine, fine! It does not matter to me who treats it, so long as it agrees to allow someone with medical expertise to help it!

[bemused-rodent]

"Agreed, yeah. Also, on a more practical if distasteful matter: Vestige is the least likely of all of us to be seriously injured if CB panics or lashes out given the severity of injury."

Cappy looks to Vestige.

"We are agreed, then? If you do not wish to risk your bond with it, it is understandable, but I'd much rather it be alive to hate us than be dead."

[or-is-it-smoke]

He looks at Capy.

"We are in agreement."

Vestige moves in to carefully collect Choir Boy.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[Aloysius moves in opposite Vestige as he moves to pick up CB, tense and twitchy. He stands uncomfortably close, although his presence is felt as little more than a faint ripple in the quality of the air.]

<<They won’t fight, they barely even know where they are.>>

[His words are clipped, and his gaze focused on the ticking gears adorning the walls. Something intangible and nearly imperceptible shifts in the air.]

<<Make sure its prosthetics aren’t touched unless they need to, and that no temporary or provisional prosthetics are provided. Make sure they let it stay covered as much as possible, and as few medics in and out as you can manage. It’s got tattoos, make sure they’re preserved as much as possible with the skin damage and the surgery needed. They need this, but you don’t have to torture them.>>

[bemused-rodent]

"I can go ahead and convey that, I'll definitely be able to get there faster than you can safely transport them. I think Sparkler's at the med bay already? I'll have to check."

He smiles slightly.

"Finally, an excuse to try out the new frame."

He leaves the door open as he heads out.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A selfie of Aloysius in CB’s room, CB visible in the background laying on the bed. The sheets are stained a deep red around the edges of CB’s body, haphazardly jumbled and creased underneath the pilot. Aloysius appears all too calm for this situation.]

<<WE LIVED BITCH>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[Frantic little knocks on the door.]

~♡ Just barely, il semblerait! Please open up, CB.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The door’s lock audibly disengages, but the door does not open. Inside, Vestige and Aloysius can be heard viciously arguing. The fighting pauses briefly as the door unlocks.]

<<Let yourself in, already.>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[The door creaks open, and the tiny woman steps inside. She carries a pair of heels in her hands and walks barefoot. Her lovely, pink dress is ruffled and disheveled from all the running. Though she makes an attempt to hide it, her eyeliner has run down her face a touch. As she enters and sees the state of her friend, she lets out a small gasp.]

~♡ I- what have I missed? How are you feeling, CB? I know you won't go to medical, but do you have the supplies you need, at least?

[As much as she tries to hide it, the distress is evident in her voice.]

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige looks over at Tutu. The cold metal surface of his helmet makes it exceptionally difficult to gauge his demeanor.

"It can not treat itself, and I, out of courtesy, am choosing to not treat it at its behest."

He looks over to Aloysius. His voice betrays a twinge of anger.

"Aloysius has been giving me a particularly hard time."

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The scene in the room is somehow worse than Tutu expected. CB lies on the bed, shivering violently as the extensive burns sap the heat from its core. Its breathing is labored and rattling, breath coming in short little gasps. It doesn’t appear to be able to speak even if it wanted to, given how concerningly concave its chest seems to be. Blood seeps into the sheets of its bed, flowing sluggishly but still flowing despite the several empty Patch and Corrective casings scattered across the floor. The great assemblages of gears and pistons that cover the walls, moving art pieces CB created to decorate its room, are all running slightly out of sync with one another.]

[Aloysius’ projection crosses his arms across his chest, sitting at the edge of CB’s bed as Vestige accuses him, still remarkably calm and seemingly not deigning to pay attention to CB at all.]

<<Fuck off, I’m not giving you a hard time, I’m just saying that you’re never getting it to the medbay!>>

[He turns to Tutu, frustration evident in his over-the-top gesticulation.]

<<Maybe you can talk some fucking sense into him. Do you really think it’ll forgive you if you try to force it?>>

[bemused-rodent]

Loud footsteps grow increasingly audible, as Cappy enters the room. Closing the door behind him, he rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath for a minute, before turning to the group.

"Is it stable? If it's not, then it needs to get treated one way or another."

He sighs, looking over to Choir Boy.

"You can't keep throwing yourself at walls and refusing to actually be treated after, that's not sustainable even in the short term. I understand your reasons, but there has to be a way to keep you alive, buddy."

[rubans-en-feu]

[Tutu shifts nervously, uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of her dress. It's so rare for her to argue. With anyone. Especially Dadao: they're the people who she needs to keep loving her the most. The ones she's closest to are always who she's most terrified to contradict. But she's caught between making a friend angry or slowly watching it die. She'd really rather be crying and hyperventilating than speaking, but speak she does.]

~♡ Mon ami, I-I... I know how important it is that you not be seen but...

[Countless times she's listened to it talk about its religion. She clapped happily at the end of its powerpoint. It was never sure how much got through to her airheaded smile. Apparently it was something, at least.]

~♡ You will d-die like this. Ideally, you need a whole medical team but... if you will refuse that even at such risk to your own life... let Landsman do what xe can, at least. You must trust one of us enough at least, non? One of your own? Dadao is a family.

~♡ Please, cheri, I sniffle do not want to watch you suffer and die.

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige turns back over to Tutu.

"I could work well enough with my eyes closed. It is more of the principle of the thing, I suppose."

The shutters on the frontal cameras of his helmet close slightly, as if to mimic squinting. He's clearly deep in thought.

"If any person were to aid it, I believe it should be me. I do not trust the rest of you to remain composed."

[rubans-en-feu]

~♡ Fine, fine! It does not matter to me who treats it, so long as it agrees to allow someone with medical expertise to help it!

[bemused-rodent]

"Agreed, yeah. Also, on a more practical if distasteful matter: Vestige is the least likely of all of us to be seriously injured if CB panics or lashes out given the severity of injury."

Cappy looks to Vestige.

"We are agreed, then? If you do not wish to risk your bond with it, it is understandable, but I'd much rather it be alive to hate us than be dead."

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[A selfie of Aloysius in CB’s room, CB visible in the background laying on the bed. The sheets are stained a deep red around the edges of CB’s body, haphazardly jumbled and creased underneath the pilot. Aloysius appears all too calm for this situation.]

<<WE LIVED BITCH>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[Frantic little knocks on the door.]

~♡ Just barely, il semblerait! Please open up, CB.

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The door’s lock audibly disengages, but the door does not open. Inside, Vestige and Aloysius can be heard viciously arguing. The fighting pauses briefly as the door unlocks.]

<<Let yourself in, already.>>

[rubans-en-feu]

[The door creaks open, and the tiny woman steps inside. She carries a pair of heels in her hands and walks barefoot. Her lovely, pink dress is ruffled and disheveled from all the running. Though she makes an attempt to hide it, her eyeliner has run down her face a touch. As she enters and sees the state of her friend, she lets out a small gasp.]

~♡ I- what have I missed? How are you feeling, CB? I know you won't go to medical, but do you have the supplies you need, at least?

[As much as she tries to hide it, the distress is evident in her voice.]

[or-is-it-smoke]

Vestige looks over at Tutu. The cold metal surface of his helmet makes it exceptionally difficult to gauge his demeanor.

"It can not treat itself, and I, out of courtesy, am choosing to not treat it at its behest."

He looks over to Aloysius. His voice betrays a twinge of anger.

"Aloysius has been giving me a particularly hard time."

[tragedy-of-the-dreamer]

[The scene in the room is somehow worse than Tutu expected. CB lies on the bed, shivering violently as the extensive burns sap the heat from its core. Its breathing is labored and rattling, breath coming in short little gasps. It doesn’t appear to be able to speak even if it wanted to, given how concerningly concave its chest seems to be. Blood seeps into the sheets of its bed, flowing sluggishly but still flowing despite the several empty Patch and Corrective casings scattered across the floor. The great assemblages of gears and pistons that cover the walls, moving art pieces CB created to decorate its room, are all running slightly out of sync with one another.]

[Aloysius’ projection crosses his arms across his chest, sitting at the edge of CB’s bed as Vestige accuses him, still remarkably calm and seemingly not deigning to pay attention to CB at all.]

<<Fuck off, I’m not giving you a hard time, I’m just saying that you’re never getting it to the medbay!>>

[He turns to Tutu, frustration evident in his over-the-top gesticulation.]

<<Maybe you can talk some fucking sense into him. Do you really think it’ll forgive you if you try to force it?>>

[bemused-rodent]

Loud footsteps grow increasingly audible, as Cappy enters the room. Closing the door behind him, he rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath for a minute, before turning to the group.

"Is it stable? If it's not, then it needs to get treated one way or another."

He sighs, looking over to Choir Boy.

"You can't keep throwing yourself at walls and refusing to actually be treated after, that's not sustainable even in the short term. I understand your reasons, but there has to be a way to keep you alive, buddy."

[2oovoojaver]

You see all these Lancers being like

Oh my mech is my soul mate

Oh it's an extension of me

Oh it's my wife

Not me

My mech is a hotrod with an automatic transmission and I'm putting bumper stickers about fucking your dad on it

[center-sparkling-stage]

why am I not surprised. as if these tests are meant to prove anything but how well you can deal in suffering.

[bemused-rodent]

... sparkler?

is there something you want to talk about?

[corsair-mercenary-companies]

[Post Sparring Report]

[Cascading Heart of Those who Still Fight: Totalled]

[Tenacity Structure: Intact. Filing Repair Requests]

[Director Status: Critical. Immediate Medical Attention Required]

[Opposition Status: Immediate Medical Attention Suggested.]

[Victor: Callsign Choir Boy]

[Public Report Complete]

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) Director status— critical?

(>) Christ-the-Buddha, what happened in that match? I need to go check on CB—

[bemused-rodent]

It won?- IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION-

hey landsman you good on your own or do you want to hitch a ride?

trialing a weaponless variant of my new mech, it should get me/us over there posthaste