finally touched up on synth's and trim's designs ^_^ in all the time ive had synth, ive never designed him as a kid or as a teen, so im happy i finally got around to doing it!! :3
pafl redraws with triumphant !! :3 og shots under cut
the first is from 100 epitaphs and the second is from convergence (the full lyric for that one is "poor little boy cant solve all his problem with force" ..!!)
+ a secret bonus ! from occams razor ! i dont like how this one turned out as much as the others so im keeping it here under cut
idont think i posted this? redesigned trim a bit. they're ~15 on the left and in their 20s on the right. i think theyd only dress that sciencey postcanon, so i still gotta design their late-teens appearance :)
wrote a ficlet where vace and my oc trim have a chat and nothing bad happens. its just guys being dudes. buddies
It won't be too long now until Trim oficially resigns from their role as a soldier.
It's scary saying goodbye to the only life they've ever known, but more than that, it's exciting. They don't remember the last time they felt this invigorated. This is just like that one Earth saying — how did it go again? A window closes, a door opens? Something like that.
Quitting isn't as hard as they thought it'd be. All they had to do was fill out a few forms and, well, that was it. All that's left to do is wait. The wait feels eternal, like each second stretches on for eternity, but it'll be worth it. It has to be.
All their life, Trim's danced on a thin line between soldier and outcast. They did everything they could to fit in, more than they'd be proud to admit, and it's become clear that their best isn't nearly enough to bridge the gap between them and the ideal Helios. This uniform's never fit them right and it's painfully obvious to anyone that so much as glances at them.
That's okay, though. They can contribute to the colony in other ways. They know that now.
Nobody will miss the awkward, scrawny kid that never has the guts to do what needs to be done. Not Lum, not Rhett, and certainly not Vace. He probably doesn't even know that they exist.
… but then, why is he walking up to them?
It's probably nothing. They just got off their guard duty, so maybe he's on the next shift… wait, no, why would he need to talk to them if that's the case? Has he ever even initiated a conversation with them before today..?
Just a few years ago, Trim would have given anything to capture his attention. But today, their blood runs cold. Even so, they greet him out of pure habit.
"G-Good afternoon, sir. What can I, er, do for you?"
Great job, Trim! They can't even get through a single sentence without stammering. Vace sneers, and he's right to. He hasn't even said anything yet. There's no reason for them to be trembling like a cornered hopeye already.
"I was thinking of taking a walk round the colony. Wanna join me?"
"Of course."
They reply stinct. It wouldn't have mattered what they answered, though. They know Vace well enough to know that they're going on this walk whether they want to or not. They also know that disagreeing with him just delays the inevitable.
He smirks at them. "Don't expect me to go slow for you," he says, and with that, he takes off. They make sure to follow closely behind.
Silence falls over them, making Trim squirm. They still don't know what he wants. A thousand different possibilities, each worse than the last, rush through their mind. What could it be, though..? If he wanted something from them, he'd have taken it already.
Honestly, they're being silly. There's no reason to be scared. He's not going to hurt them. They've given him no reason to, after all, and Vace doesn't hurt people unless they deserve it.
They're near the colony walls when he speaks up. Not many people often go here, so it's a pretty private area.
"So," he says, leaning against the wall, "How's Vertumna been treating you, soldier?"
"Huh? Oh- It's, um, it's nice, sir."
"What was that?"
"I, er- I mean-"
Vace barks out a laugh. "Stop acting like I'm gonna bite your dick off, man! Jesus!"
Trim feels their face heat up with shame. This is their first conversation with him in maybe forever, and they're already blowing it. Luckily, he doesn't seem to care that much — or maybe he's just feeling kind — because he shifts the subject. Even if only a bit to the left.
"And stop with that sir crap. It's just us two here," he gestures to the empty area around them, "No need for that. We're friends, yeah?"
"We are?"
Trim can't help it. They speak without thinking again. He seems to be enjoying their embarassment, though. His laughter isn't completely unkind.
"Sure, buddy."
That can't be right. He's never so much as looked at Trim before. They were (they are?) one of his lackeys, sure, but friends? No. The only friends they've ever really had are Sol and Rumi, and honestly, they're not that sure they wuld say the same about them. They haven't even known each other that long.
… wait, doesn't that just means they don't know what friendship looks like? Why are they disagreeing with him, then? Why would they want to disagree with him about this? This is all they've ever wanted. They're not as happy as they thought they'd be, but that's probably just because they're so surprised.
In place of a response they trot over next to him and lean against the wall next to him. There's still a healthy distance between them. Vace wouldn't want them to take more than he's given them.
"That's more like it," he smirks. "It's about time you got that stick out your ass."
Trim doesn't usually hang out with people like this. Looking out on the colony like this, with Vace of all people, makes their heart hammer in their chest. They didn't know that he could, er, chill out like this, for lack of a better term. It makes them feel all the more special that they get to see him like this.
He nods towards the garisson. "Those people are good people. We're who you wanna be hanging out with. Not any of those goddamn cowards and pacifists."
"Yeah. You- You're right."
"Damn right I am," he huffs. "You're a Helio, soldier. Don't you ever forget that. You don't wanna end up like one of those Stratos," he glances over at them with a fire in his eyes, "or do you?"
"No."
They answer before they're able to process his words. He shouldn't know that they're leaving.
"That's what I like to hear!" He clasps them on the shoulder a bit too hard, making them flinch. He kindly doesn't point it out. "I always knew you weren't like those other shitheads. You're gonna make it big, kid."
Who told him? They've only told a few people, and they more or less trust all of them. Instance was supportive of their transfer. So was Rhett. Tangent won't care what they do as long as they don't interfere with her work. Sol is their friend. They're not so important that Lum would keep an eye on them.
"That's, er, thank you, um. Sir."
"You belong with us. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"Then why," his grip on their shoulder tightens. Don't say it, don't say it. "Are you looking to transfer?"
If Trim's blood was cold before, it's ice now. Why does he know? How?
"What, are you scared of a few widdle xenos? Don't be a fucking pussy. What's more honorable than defending the colony, huh? Why do you think you're too good for that?"
"I- I don't."
In the blink of an eye, he's in front of them, hand planted right next to their head. They're closed in.
"Then why are you leaving?"
He wouldn't hurt them. This isn't a good enough reason, is it? No, he wouldn't. It's like he said, they're friends.
"I don't have all fucking day. My work is important, unlike those hippies, so I'd really like it if you'd stop wasting my time. I've got better things to be doing than talking to you."
They cast their eyes to the ground, voice barely a whisper. "I, I want to-"
"Look at me when I'm talking to you. Don't tell me you're pissing your pants just 'cus of this."
They're okay. Rhett was supportive, wasn't he? So will be Vace, then. It'll be okay.
They look up at him, trying not to worry too hard about what kind of expression they're making. If they were weaker, they'd be wishing for someone to see what was happening. Would they step in? Rumi might. Sol… she hasn't been very supportive of their transfer, so she might join Vace, actually.
"Spit it out already."
"I want to be a doctor," they say, voice barely a whisper. Their face burns. That dream seems so silly now. Vace is right to laugh.
"Really? You, a doctor?" He steps back, looking them up and down. "That's a joke, right? Please tell me that's a joke."
They don't say anything. It's all they can do to keep their voice from breaking. Their silence is an answer enough for Vace, though. He spends a moment just laughing at them, like this is the best joke he's heard in a while. Something stirs inside them.
"Dr Instance, um, she- she said we need a doctor," they hurriedly explain, like il'll change his mind, "We- we can't rely on the medbeds forever, and, and-"
"Yeah, but you?" He gestures to their whole self. "Fuck, man, I thought you were gonna at least transfer to geoponics and shovel shit over there! You'd actually be good at that."
Trim wants to argue that he's wrong, to throw a tantrum like a little kid. They want to scream that they hate being a soldier, that they wish they weren't born on the Heliopause, that they'd rather be a hippie than his friend. They don't.
"Believe me when I say I know what I'm talking about. You are not a fucking doctor," he growls, "The sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better."
"… You're right."
He smirks, beaming with pride. "Damn right I am." He loops his arm around their neck. "You're bloody lucky to have a friend like me, you get it? Who else looks out for you like I do, huh? Huh?"
Their answer goes unspoken. Instead, they say, "I, er. I'll cancel it. The transfer, I mean."
"Shit, man, you already made the preraptions 'n all? That's just too good. You're lucky I knocked some sense into you."
"Yeah. I, um. Thanks. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he chuckles one last time for good measure. "That's what friends are for."
This is fine. It's good, even! They're friends. This is what Trim wanted — what they want. All their life led up to this. Everything they did, everyone they hurt, it's finally paying off. This should feel good. Why doesn't this eel good? Why do they want to throw his arm off, even now? They shouldn't be regretting this. Not when it's barely been a minute.
Ah, no, that's not it. This isn't regret. They're just in shock. Come tomorrow, they'll be squealing with joy. If not tomorrow, then next week. They just have to wait it out. Being Vace's friend just takes a bit of getting used to, that's all.
He starts walking, arm still around Trim's neck. They squirm. "Come on. Let's get lunch, pal."
