Striker's Got The Ball

"Well, my father always said...he said if you have a shot, you take it." Independent RP Blog for Pacific Rim's Chuck Hansen, Lieutenant and Jaeger pilot. Mun and muse are of age. FC: Robert Kazinsky Tracking: strikersgottheball

[strikersgottheball-blog]

+ nonsibisedomnibus

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"It’s good that someone here acknowledges that", said Chuck with a flashy grin, hands on his waist, "guess improving is not something bad…", and he lifted his chin a little, "so what are you suggesting?"

[nonsibisedomnibus-blog]

Her eyes were bright with amusement. “I haven’t seen you in action yet — I’m still new around here you, see — so either we wait until your next drop for my eval to be complete, or we can try something … different. Up to you, Mr. Hansen.”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"And what's that something different you have planned, hmm?", he half closed his eyes and wondered what could it be. Maybe kwoon?

[makogipsydanger]

[closed] No Place Like Home

Learning to live again after a life at war was something that Mako didn’t think she could ever get used to. She had an apartment of her own now, with a soft mattress and whatever food she wanted to eat. She could spend her days reading books and tinkering with machinery, she could sleep in as long as she wanted.

She hated it. But she was pretty sure that she was not the only ex-ranger who felt that way. Everyone was having a hard time adjusting, but it was one of Mako’s oldest friends that she found herself thinking about the most. Chuck. His brush with death had been closer than most ever survived, and she knew that it couldn’t be easy.

This was probably why Mako was currently standing on his doorstep, hood pulled over her face in an attempt to keep herself from getting completely drenched by the rain. Lifting her hand, she knocked twice on the door - and hoped that he was actually home.

[strikersgottheball-blog]

Chuck thought of living in an apartment, but when the contract said no pets allowed he walked away asap. Max was part of his family and he would move in with him or not move in at all. So he got something else instead, something he could buy with the money left from being a Ranger. It looked like an apartment but it wasn't exactly one, it was some sort of small-house-like-apartment with four floors. He was building a small yet useful gym in the first floor, a living room, kitchen and general bathroom in the third, and his bedroom in the fourth. Max had plenty of space too and he took him outside most of the time, they spent their days outdoors.

And rain in Sydney was common at that time of the year, but he couldn't deny Max his daily walk so both of them were running home by the time Mako was at their front door. He stopped and so did Max, but the dog didn't hesitate a second to go to the girl and bark, wiggling his short tail. "Oi, Max!", he said, "what are you doing?", he got closer yet was wary of the person, "who are you?"

[strikersgottheball-blog]

+ nonsibisedomnibus

[nonsibisedomnibus-blog]

"Well … There’s always a little room for improvement, no?" she replied, head canting to the side as she appraised the young man. "I’m very impressed with your record, I’ll admit, but everyone can learn an extra something, I’m sure.”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"It's good that someone here acknowledges that", said Chuck with a flashy grin, hands on his waist, "guess improving is not something bad…", and he lifted his chin a little, "so what are you suggesting?"

[luckysevenbornfighter-deactivat]

“Can’t say I didn’t think you were going survive, Chuck. Only that I am pleased that you did.” In the optics that rose and fixed upon Chuck’s visage once more, watching and reveling in the smile that dressed his lips as he granted Max the attention he’d been seeking, Herc smiled softly as well and granted a soft chuckle.

"What do you want to do, Chuck?” For too long it had been about the world, about everyone but Chuck and himself and it needed to change if the world wasn’t going to end. He hadn’t given Chuck the best childhood. He hadn’t raised him the way he wanted to raise him. But this was what they had now and this was a second chance. Maybe things could be made right. “What have you wanted to do but couldn’t because of this war?”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

Once Herc said that he couldn't say much but to offer a grin, "Wasn't in my plans to stay dead, old man". Later, he thought about his dad's question. "Dunno", he said and shrugged, "haven't had much of a normal life, so it's not as if I could say 'hey old man let's go surfing', because you know…who knows what's gonna come out of the water this time, right?", he placed both hands to the sides of his body and leant back just a little bit, looking up, "I don't even know what's to live a normal life anymore, live in a regular house and do normal stuff…", then again, most of those things were under his mother's care. "You're the Marshal now, aren't you? Thought you had to stay here or whatever", said the young male.

Maybe it was naive to think he would go back to Sydney and live a normal life with his old man and dog for a while.

[iactaxaleaest-deactivated201709]

  Fallon’s stride staggered to a sudden stop as the much taller man climbed into his range of vision. Tipping his head upward, azure optics caught upon Chuck’s and he offered a hesitant but soft smile. Rather than admit he’d lost himself mentally and that he’d needed some time to clear his head, he persisted with the latter part of Chuck’s question.

  “Of course I’m wandering about in search of you, Hazelnut ” Hazelnut being a nickname he’d thoughtlessly crafted for the younger Hansen. “However did you know that it was because I’ve missed you? Is it that apparent upon my face?”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Who wouldn't?", he said with a grin. He knew most people disliked him; yet he didn't give a damn. "I'm sort of your favorite patient, ain't I?", he asked with that air of greatness and pride that made him almost unique and equally annoying. He didn't really have a problem with the nickname, (of course he did complain at first, but he got used to it as his sessions with the man became more frequent). "But you wouldn't just come to see me or…would you?", and now he was teasing.

[stonerxloner-blog]

i need some physical affection and 3 bottles of vodka 

[luckysevenbornfighter-deactivat]

Jaw flexing faintly, his attention returned to his son. He should have been trying harder too, he should have been more open and eager to speak with the kid but it was hard. He’d nearly lost Chuck, he’d lost him for a time in fact but then realization came that he had never really had Chuck to begin with. He’d forced a very brilliant, very precious youth into service, into the line of fire and had nearly gotten him killed. Guilt seeped into his belly and he lifted his hand to gently clap it over the boy’s shoulder. With that, he gave a little squeeze. “Just reminiscing and giving thanks.” He offered softly before retracting his hand and letting it fall to rest with the other within his lap. 

[strikersgottheball-blog]

He looked at him when he felt that touch on his shoulder and he smirked, "you didn't think I was gonna die, right?", he asked as he arched an eyebrow in amusement, looking down as an eager Max pressed his muzzle against Chuck's boot. He pet him, feeling instantly better whenever the dog was around him.

"What are we gonna do now, old man?", he asked, and he had been so curious to ask that to him, to know what Herc was thinking about their current situation. He had been with him ever since he was a kid, Herc and Chuck did everything together as they had to because they were copilots, nothing like father and son quality time, more like…things that needed to be done for other people's sake. And Chuck hadn't known anything else, so he might as well ask.

[luckysevenbornfighter-deactivat]

"What? Ruins your fun?" Hercules’ brows arch and he watches his son settle in beside him before those pallid optics skipped back to the empty holding bays. "Nothing’s wrong, Chuck. Don’t worry your pretty little head." He suspected he didn’t worry, it was how their relationship seemed to work anyway and Hercules did not feel too keep about sharing. He just didn’t want to.  

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"I knew it was too good to be true", he said, "you opening up to me before Pitfall and all…", and then he snorted. He was trying his best, he couldn't change from day to night but he could try…Max and the old man were his only family. He knew how it felt to be close to death and thinking 'oh I should have said this or that' or regretting things––he didn't want to feel like that anymore.

[luckysevenbornfighter-deactivat]

 Glancing up at his son, his hand instinctively stretched out and he ruffled the fur upon Max’s head and neck, effectively causing the collar he wore to jingle with the attention. “A poet? I don’t know too many poets who compare the earth to bones.” He chuckles, pallid eyes remained locked upon his son’s visage. “Breathing, I guess. Always look lame and lonely though, it’s my thing.” 

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"The fact you admit it, it's……", he raised an eyebrow, "come on, old man, what's wrong?", not that he cared a lot. Maybe just a little. The old man was his dad anyway. He sat next to him and looked anywhere but at his face. He pet Max as well and gave him a soft smile.

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Dad, is that you with an iPhone?"

[luckysevenbornfighter-deactivat]

  “I wonder if the Breach is like a broken bone… It heals up nice and strong in that place leaving the rest of the bone or Earth in this case, weaker where it hadn’t broken.” Hercules pondered this quietly, body settled on the edge of the railing that looked straight into the hanger where Striker Eureka used to linger, muttering more to himself than to anyone else.

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"You should be a poet, old man", he said with a cocky grin as he got closer with Max next to him, "what are you doing here all lonely and lame-looking?"

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Where the hell are you, mate?"

[eversorisms]

"Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine - tender, delicate, your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond of the fiddlehead fern in forests just washed by sun." #See? #ICanDoIt

Tendo stood still, simply staring for a few moments. “That was..” A slow shade of red started to creep up on his face. “That was uh, defiantly somethin' kid. I take back that stuff I said before.”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Sure you do", he grinned, "that's all you wanna take back, Elvis…?"

[becketsenior-archive-blog]

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

"You want four confessions, babe? Needy thing…”

"I watched the news story of Striker kicking the shit out of Mutavore. Cheered like an idiot in my apartment."

"Your text tone on my phone is unique, so I know it’s you."

"I kind of like that I’m a bit older than you.”

"I’m getting together a book collection for you. For in your room. You know."

[becketsenior-archive-blog]

Yancy waited for the pieces to come together in Chuck’s head, then let him take the book, laughing throatily. He loved riling the kid up. He patted his bag and said, “Not far. Just a walk, mostly around the Dome. Needed to stretch my legs and… y’know. Get out a little bit more.”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Good", he said, understanding his reason to be wandering around, "I'll go with you", said Chuck, not asking, but letting him know he was gonna be walking with him. Maybe that's how he was, impulsive, not really asking for permission, and sticking his nose wherever he wanted. "So why did you lend me the freaking book in the first place?"

[strikersgottheball-blog]

+gipsyspilot

[gipsypilot]

Purses his lips, which turns into a sly smile.

"Hey there, Chuckles," he teases back.

[strikersgottheball-blog]

He frowned, "what are you doing here? Thought your room was far away from mine"

[strikersgottheball-blog]

+ nonsibisedomnibus

[nonsibisedomnibus-blog]

     ”I’ll try to keep this short, then — I’m Riza Castillote. Strategic consultant around here. I’ll be working with you and the other pilots to make sure that every skill and talent is utilized to its fullest, and that the Jaegers are used optimally. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hansen.”

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Strategic Consultant?", and he almost snickered, "well, I just made your job easier, ma'am", he said, "I'm already talented, and my skills are pretty good so far", he couldn't let his cockiness rest for a second.

[fiftyonekills]

   She huffs, exhales sharply and turns away toward his door. A hand rests upon the cool iron, fingers curling around the frame as she pries it open, not bothering to spare him another glance.

   “You are bad at jokes.” It’s a statement of fact as she slips out before pausing, hovering at the bottom of stairs—waiting.

[strikersgottheball-blog]

"Who said I was joking?", asked the young ranger while going out of his room and closing the door, "maybe you're bad at them, thinking I just made one when I was being awfully honest"