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@tokyosdaughtr
private, selective and plot oriented writing blog for mako mori of guillermo del toro's pacific rim. my portrayal is based off the original movie, official movie novelization & the graphic novels. i do not consider uprising to be canon (at least not a part of mine). written by day (23, she/her).
rules, dossier, verses, movie timeline, jaeger guide.
@tokyosdaughtr.
HE REPRESSES A SMILE AT THE LOOK IN HER EYES. There’s Mako. “ Yes, ma’am, sorry, ma’am, ” he teases. He reaches for said water. Hermann tries not to make it obvious how much he’s worry-nannying, but every time Newt looks away, there’s new things on the table- Tea, bottled water, a cookie, etc.
“ Creaky stairs? ” he says, as he opens the bottle, “ What, the hero of the world can’t afford some talcum powder? Where’s that Ken doll of yours dragged you to? ” He takes a drink. He has a joking rivalry with Raleigh, on the grounds of Newt being a nerd, Raleigh being a “jock,” and the latter being unworthy of Mako, because who is?
it feels good to be talking, to be hearing newt speak, even if just the sight of him has her aching something fierce. some days she still wakes up wishing to never see another familiar face again, for the world to be an empty slate and for her to exist in it as just another mass of nothing, just another bit of space to fill the vastness of what's there and not there. but today, today she is here, still mako mori. newt's friend.
“raleigh says he is working on it. but he has been working on it for four days and the stairs are still creaking.” it's not that she doesn't have the heart to tell him to quit, to let someone else handle it. she just wants to let him have this. wants to keep him smiling and breathless the way he only ever gets when he has tools in his hands. she can kind of understand it, when she spends hours in the shed melting and shaping metal, how good it feels to be doing something. “how is dr. gottlieb?” mako doesn't know if she'd be pushing it to ask after newt directly, so she asks after hermann instead.
adam jensen of eidos montreal’s deus ex series. originating in the cyberpunk genre, expanded upon with influences from neo - noir cinema and spy fiction. no knowledge of the series required to interact. re - est 2023, by garrett! [ they'll take your wings before the sun even touches you, icarus. ] my resolve is all i need to fly.
hey gorgeousties 💕 i will be omw home tonight 😎 but also will only get to be home for like a week before leaving for boston so my energy will be all over the place for a while i think 😵💫
MOST DAYS SHE DOESN'T KNOW how to sit still, which was even more of a challenge with the ache in her bones; all she'd ever known was work. Now, at least, she could attempt to fill the time with more meaningful things.
Shepard takes the box, turning it over to read the back ( as if she would even follow the instructions in the first place ). Tapping the box with her other hand, she smiles and motions with her head. ❛ Yeah, I got you. ❜ Already dispersing the contents, she makes her way to the bathroom. ❛ So what's the deal, new look new you? ❜ she asks, only prodding slightly. / @tokyosdaughtr
it would be more comforting, she thinks, to be worse at being alone. but mako has always been good at walking around the empty spaces around her. even now, she steps over the ghost of stacker into the bathroom after @solesoldier and doesn't so much as blink. the silence that has accompanied her since tokyo is a different beast now, coiled tight around her chest instead of around her throat. is there a difference, she wonders.
“something like that.” some version of her had died with her jaeger, in the depths of the breach. “the world is moving on, so i thought maybe i should too.”
good morning. for show and tell today i have 0 writing but i DO have this <3
it's harder to be quiet now that the entire world is quiet too. mako feels an urge she'd never had before to talk and keep talking, until she can fill all the empty spaces in the world with her words. she wonders if @solesoldier can tell, if there's something about her that seems changed now.
she holds out the box of hair dye to jane. the label on the front says jet black, which she was informed was her colour, after the girl from the shop saw her looking lost in the face of all the different shades of black mako wasn't aware existed. “can you help me?” the twin strips of blue hang almost past her chin now. she'd wanted to wait for it to fully grow out before cutting it, but lately she keeps catching the blue in the mirror and flinching.
the jaeger bay is practically empty at this time in the morning. mako has already been here long enough to work up a mild sweat. she flattens herself against the cool metal of the floor, looking up at her first (and probably last) big project. the only mark-3 jaeger left now. some days she's still surprised she'd been allowed to work on it at all, let alone be in charge of the entire project.
she turns her head at the sound of approaching footsteps, catching the bowtie and suspenders before anything else. “good morning, @stcrforged.” she says, back still against the floor, looking up at tendo's chin. today he's wearing the bowtie she'd gotten him as a birthday present one year. the sight of it has the corners of her mouth lifting up. “you missed this part,” she gestures to the underside of her chin, “when you were shaving.”
mako has never had a single good thing to say about cordelia's husband. even now that he's dead, that hasn't changed. mako thinks the dead should be respected, but sometimes, she thinks, there may be exceptions.
she knocks on @incorporeil's door, adjusting her sleeves while she waits. when it opens, mako schools her features into something appropriate. sympathetic. respectful. but there is no pity in her eyes. “i'm sorry for your loss.” not a perfect greeting by any means, but so long as it carries stacker's and the entire ppdc's sentiments, it doesn't really need to be anything more. “they will be giving jeff a proper send off on saturday. i wanted to come let you know.” she pauses now, having done her duty. what she says next is less in an official capacity and more just because she wants to. “you don't have to attend, if you don't want to. they will understand.”
mako has no secrets to keep. everything important that there is to know about her— the world has already uncovered. she's quiet because it's easier to be, because everyone already knows too much. and she has had enough of being seen. of being looked at.
a hush descends when she walks down the shatterdome corridors. it's different from the one that accompanies stacker, always sharper with her, always questioning, probing, as if asking her what she thinks she's doing there. if she deserves to be there at all.
she comes to a stop halfway to the jaeger bay when she comes across @gunbash. he's taller than her. most of the people in the shatterdome are. she's never once felt like he was using it to look down on her though, which she's grateful for.
“dr. gottlieb says there will be another kaiju attack soon.” mako speaks as if she's talking about the weather. “and we are running out of jaegers to fight them with. what do you think the kaiju will do with the earth, if we lose?”
would anybody like a starter perhaps 👉 👈
you rescued her. you raised her.
the bargain, les miserables / the best day, taylor swift
muse aesthetics & feelings.
bold what applies, italicize what sometimes applies, strike what never applies.
happiness. being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laugh lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.
sadness. tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breaths. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. running makeup. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.
anger. furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.
fear. wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline. face draining of colour. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.
exhaustion. constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying they’re tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “i’m awake, i’m fine.” shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out.
tagged. @warbyrds love u 💕 tagging. @incorporeil bestie baby angel <3
smek for all my mutualies <3 i actually wasn't sure anyone was going to be interested in mako at all given the fact that it's been like. ten years since pac.rim came out sldkkgjsdg but the fact that i've got more than 3 followers is insane 2 me. ily all <3 thank u <3333
@tokyosdaughtr.
THE BIGGEST DIFFERENCE SHE PROBABLY NOTICES IS THAT HIS ARMS ARE ALWAYS COVERED. No more rolled-up sleeves and slack ties. Now, it's soft sweaters tucked into blue gloves, and white collars buttoned all the way to the top. His tattoos aren't even realistic. They're artsy and stylized. But every time he sees them . . . He's considered getting them removed, but whenever he brings it up, Hermann looks sad. It's clear he's scared of losing Newt. That, in turn, scares Newt too.
It's all a lot to dump on Mako. She must be feeling so lost. She has new family in Raleigh, but they haven't known each other for long, and Newt knows how it feels to have the world celebrate while you're left clutching your wound. But hey, he hasn't freaked out yet! And Hermann can rush in if something happens. And the more he tells himself that his silence is for her sake, the less he believes it.
He steps closer to the monitor, taking off his gloves for the day. " Hey, Maks, " he says, like it isn't the first time they've spoken in months. He winces. " I mean- Sorry, never really got your feedback on that nickname. Good? Bad? "
she'll make a concession just this once. the world is healing, supposedly. if there was any time to let the nickname maks slide, it would be now.
mako sets her pencil down, laying it flat against her notebook. a half finished sketch of newt sits on the page. she had to keep re-doing his eyes. they never came out quite right, always too much like the newt of before, or too much like a version of him she never wanted to see. she looks at him now, different yet the same, and wonders if she'll ever be able to capture exactly what it is that makes him him.
“i will let you decide,” she says diplomatically, but the hard look in her eyes should be answer enough. “if we're going to talk, then you will need some water. your voice is... creaky, like the stairs in my house.” she worries if she asks him questions, if she says how are you? he'll just lapse into another bout of silence, withdrawn and more careful than she's used to. so she doesn't ask him anything. she'll push, and hope he cracks. or pushes back.
the breach is closed. the kaiju are gone. and ma.ko mori, you are still here.
13. you are thirteen and everything in tokyo is a novelty. the people, the sounds, the red shoes on display behind the window. you pause to look at the shiny leather, the kind of material you've never seen back in tanegashima. mother lets father buy them for you because father is dying and you're not taking it well. you are thirteen but you feel smaller, when the alarms blare, when you lose your parents in the crowd, when you clutch the last thing your father gave you to your chest as you run down the empty road. you are thirteen and you think i am going to die.
21. you are twenty-one and you save the world. in the morning you and raleigh look at each other and share a single thought: we should not be here. but you are. the both of you, breathing still. raleigh laughs. you fight back a smile. you don't walk to the mess hall hand in hand, but it's a near thing.
herc sits by himself at the table. you imagine chuck hanging over him, casting a shadow over his head. max barks. herc looks up. you know he is seeing stac.ker pentecost hovering over yours. you are twenty-one and you have saved the world. you've lost so much in the process.
thank you for your service. they take your home away, slowly. people start trickling out in small batches, leaving to go home, to rejoin their families, to build new ones. ma.ko mori, what do you have left? you do not have tanegashima and you do not have stack.er pentecost and you do not have the hong kong shatter.dome, not anymore. but you have your titles, you have your name. you are ma.ko mori, hero, saviour, kaiju killer. the government gives you options. you look at raleigh. raleigh looks back. for the time being, you decide to stay in hong kong.
22. they give you money and you laugh. you remind them of the days leading up to the breach closing, when they'd revoked the funding to the ppdc. you stare each of them in the eye and you ask do you think this could have saved chu.ck hansen's life? the possibility still aches in you, of what might've been if only there was more support, more jaegers, more—. you take the money anyway. because this is what they owe you. this is what they owed stack.er pentecost.
they give you a nice, spacey apartment to stay in. raleigh lives next door, technically, but unofficially he lives with you. herc and max are across the hall. herc, you think, has even less of a home than you do. you try to make being alive work, somehow. they ask you to lead the restoration project, to help them build jaegers-but-not, something smaller that can help with repairs around the city while giving the people a new symbol of peace, something to believe in, something to take the heat off of their mistakes. you don't tell them you're not sure if you know how to make something that's not a weapon. you say yes. there are cement dispensers where the plasma canons used to be, drills and saws where you would put the sword. it never feels nearly as fulfilling as working on an actual jaeger. you have no idea who you are when the world is not ending.
you call the not-jaegers shuriko. raleigh calls them baby jaegers. herc says: chuck would've hated this. they don't need co-pilots anymore. the shuriko are small enough that they only require one. you blink and realise one day children are going to be born and they will never know of the drift. you wonder when the world will stop taking things from you.
people stop you on the street. raleigh handles the attention much better than you do, always open just enough, friendly just enough. you are clumsier with it, you smile too much or you smile too little. an older woman presses a steaming bag filled with barbecue pork buns into your hands and she doesn't let you pay. you think of the time the triplets had brought you out and dragged you down the streets, speaking freely in cantonese and picking up small plastic bags filled with food that looked familiar but smelled different. jin was the one who handed you the brown bag. it was hot and it crinkled in your hand. hu said gai dan zai and forced you to mouth along and repeat it back to him until you said it right. they all watched you take your first bite. delicious, you said. cheung whooped and claimed he knew you had a sweet tooth the moment he first saw you.
hong kong is wrong without the weis. wrong without your sensei. it takes you six months to realise. when you do, you find raleigh waiting for you with a smile on his face. you both go to herc together. raleigh forces him into the shower. you pack his bags for him. the three of you (and max) are at the airport an hour later.
24. a part of herc comes alive again in sydney. even if he's chasing ghosts of his son in every corner, his wife down every street. sydney is more home than hong kong ever was for him. the first time he'd taken you and raleigh to the ha.nsen house, he'd almost fallen to his knees by the doorway. now he passes by the stairs, tracing a hand down the rail, gentle like a caress. you take max on runs with you in the morning. raleigh works on fixing up the house, always disappearing somewhere with a wrench in his hand or climbing up to the roof with his utility belt.
neither of you say it, but the three of you know this is never going to be home for you. still, for a while, you stay. herc takes you both to places he used to go with his brother who he can't bear to think of anymore. you laugh in an overcrowded bar. the owner says on the house and the three of you make endless toasts to every single person you've ever lost.
you are twenty-four. your birthday comes and goes quietly. on your morning run someone comes up to you and presses a camelia into your hand. at night raleigh and herc bring out a sad looking cake. it's lopsided and the frosting is melting off the sides. sorry, raleigh says. you laugh and kiss him with blue frosting around your mouth.
25. you go to tottenham, to where your sensei grew up. you go to the royal air force and you ask for stories. they tell you about stack.er, but about his sister, too. luna pente.cost, who you never got to meet. they share with you the burden of memory, because no one else will remember them right, remember them the way they really were. raleigh brings you to football games and wraps the local team's scarf around your neck. sometimes both your faces will appear on the large screen to raucous cheers. you laugh into raleigh's shoulder.
herc calls from sydney every now and then. you let raleigh do most of the talking. it always starts with just the two of you and herc but then it gets quiet and raleigh adds tendo to the call, and then tendo will add newt, and somehow hermann will get roped in. it always feels too crowded. newt talks over everyone, especially hermann. raleigh will laugh at all of it, making gestures towards the camera that only tendo can interpret. herc stays quiet, but there's always a smile tugging at his lips. you don't talk until someone talks to you directly, otherwise content to just sit there and listen. and everyone always lets you decide when to end the calls, as if they've nominated you the leader in place of the one they've lost. during one of your bad days, you don't end the call at all. nobody says anything about it. newt leaves his webcam on as he fusses about in his lab, still working on his kaiju research even if he's quickly running out of kaiju to dissect. (nowadays his work is about finding some new use for all the leftover kaiju bits and pieces, finding antidotes out of the toxicity of kaiju blue). raleigh kisses the top of your head and goes to make dinner while you sit at the table and watch tendo fuss over his kid, fuss over his wife. hermann scratches on his papers, mumbling to himself every once in a while. when he gets up to do his hourly light stretches, you do them with him. herc sets his camera in front of max, and you watch him sleep and slobber over the carpet. you don't end the call until the next morning, after everyone grumbles their greetings to each other. you sleep until raleigh wakes you up for lunch. for the first time in your life, you consider yourself lucky.
27. you are twenty-seven. you spend your birthday in an airplane on the way to anchorage. the stewardess gives you an extra bag of complimentary peanuts and a little girl with your face on her shirt and a blue streak in her hair that matches the one you used to have comes up to you and says happy birthday you are my hero my daddy says a kaiju took his mommy away and that you are the reason the kaiju can't take anyone else's mommies away anymore do you want my oatmeal cookie? you take the cookie. you eat it with tears running down your face. raleigh laughs, takes pictures of your face despite your complaints, and sends them to everyone you know.
you know anchorage. you know how it feels in the winter, the feeling of the snow pressed up against your back as your brother laughs and your sister whines. those are as much your memories now as they are raleigh's, but even still, it doesn't really compare to the real thing. you step into the house raleigh purchased, cough the dust out of your lungs, and everything still feels as new as it was always meant to. raleigh had insisted on a fixer upper, a house he could use as a project. he takes you by the hand as the both of you walk over holes in the floorboards and avoid the spiderwebs around every corner. behind the house there's a shed. you lose your breath when you step inside. sitting in that shed is an old, aged tatara. different than the one your father owned in tanegashima, but a tatara nonetheless.
there are things your father never got to teach you. (fold the steel, mako.) you remember enough. raleigh works inside the house, prying up the loose floorboards, replacing it with new ones, chipping away at the old wallpaper, fixing the holes in the roof. you sit in the shed for hours and you forge the metal into blades. the first sword you make is not perfect, but it is yours. when raleigh sees you with it in your hands, slashing at the air in the backyard with sweat dripping down your chin, he thinks wow so loud you catch it in your head even without an active drift between the two of you. he hears your inner laughter just as clearly.
28. you are twenty-eight and you can appreciate newt's tattoos for the first time. sometimes you wake up with the fear that one day everyone will have forgotten. that the sacrifices made for this planet and the people in it will be erased entirely. when newt rolls up his sleeves and you see yamarashi sitting there, part of you is relieved. part of you is glad. hermann talks about his work in expanding the use of the pons system to everyday life, from using it to operate more responsive prosthetics, to driving cars without needing to use your hands, to a fully automated house that responds to you without a word needing to be said. turning the stove on with just a thought, controlling the temperature without needing to use your hands. imagine, for a moment, you were blind and living alone— newt, of course, rolls his eyes. that's noble and all, hermann— do not call me hermann— but what i'm working on is way more interesting.
you are not the only one who fears the world will forget. you, raleigh, herc and newt are all sitting at a table across a line of men in uniforms. i will not let my son be forgotten, herc declares. this is how you find yourself getting swept up in a new project. the government agree to part with their precious, precious money, so long as none of them mention how they'd failed the jaeger program in the end. newt snorts. herc agrees. they decide to build the museum in hong kong, where the shatter.dome used to be.
the jaeger section takes up two floors. the kaiju section gets three. while newt works on collecting all the information he's jotted down on every kaiju that's crossed the breach over the years, you go through personnel files and dossiers on every jaeger ever made and operated. you leave coy.ote tango for last. raleigh talks to tendo and memorises names and stories of anyone who was ever part of a j-tech crew, anyone who ever worked in the background and gave them the tools they needed to help save the world. the shatterdome staff and crew get five floors. there is not a single name left out.
29. you finally get a cat. at the shelter, in the back, there's a calico with telltale kaiju blue scarring where her left ear used to be. she's docile, you're told, but when she's let out to get familiar with you and raleigh, she bites your finger. raleigh grins, triumphant, until she bites his foot. then and there you decide she's yours. raleigh says, dangerous, this one. so you name her danger.
tokyo's daughter, come home. you are twenty-nine when you finally return to japan. you go to tanegashima. the air smells the same. you hold raleigh's hand and you tell him stories from your childhood that he already knows, just as you already know the stories from his. you say them out loud anyway. they take a different form here, on the island where you were born. you stop in front of the mori house. you look at the overgrown weeds surrounding it, at the dust all over the windows. you leave an old pair of red leather shoes that don't fit you anymore on the doorstep. “tadaima.”
30. you are thirty and you are still here. ma.ko mori, you have your whole life ahead of you.
mako having a birthday party but she has no friends her age so it's just. her and a bunch of grown men huddled around a cute little confetti cake.
