TDM 001

[erkumods]

TDM 001: TFLU

( 1 ) After leaving the teleportation chamber, you are gently coaxed out of the hospital and encouraged to find a place to stay. Maybe you've had time to check out your A5 app. Maybe you're just settling in. It's cloudy, overcast, cold -- you'll want to seek out someplace warm. Also, your device is beeping. A lot. The tech on the island works, it just doesn't work right. You can't seem to send a message to the correct person. It's time for... Texts From Last Universe ( 2 ) What's this? Your bingo card has just been beamed to a stranger's inbox...?! ( sample A5 cards -- NSFW, may contain triggering content, please feel free to use/ignore as you see fit) ( 3 ) And now you're receiving messages from other users that they don't remember sending: Nice shirt. It would look better on my floor. 10/10 would ride it into the sunset. This user thinks you're attractive. u up? 🍆 ( 4 ) Once you figure out that the robots have been hacking your devices, it's no easy feat to track one down and demand they stop. "So The Augur wills!" they wail in a monotone. "So it is done!" Any attempt to actually contact The Augur and get back into the hospital will be met with beefy robot bodyguards, who suggest taking a gentler approach to fix your devices. If you know what they mean. Wink. (This is your overt kink prompt. Please label any threads accordingly.) Note: All prompts are optional. The theme for this TDM is "malfunctioning devices." They can be fixed by indulging in the squares on your cards. For the sake of the TDM, you can use one of the pre-generated examples or a wildcard from the kink list. This can be used as a free bingo square completion once you have been accepted into the game. Players are welcome to wildcard their own TDM prompts; we only ask that you try to stick to the theme. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

[grudged]

[Char just shrugs, though it's not so much out of callousness. Weariness, more like, of how awful human beings could be.]

Probably. We like to think we're better than the generations long past, but that's not true at all. People were gassing each other in the twentieth century and they're gassing each other now. Nukes, chemical warfare, and of course, the infamous colony drop... we're as bloodthirsty as ever, and that won't change.

[His steps are slow, methodical. He tries to avoid anything too sensitive, for fear of setting off Angelo, but he knows everything. Or close enough to it. There's no point hiding if you've become something as ubiquitous as a myth. There's no point lying if the history books already painted you as a traitor. So he's more open than usual, more daring than he'd otherwise be.]

Zeon will do whatever it takes to win. Same as the Federation. You can't blame either side when they're both equally guilty.

[It's a somewhat subtler way to confess I was never really on their side anyway.]

[apodictic]

[ angelo purses his lips to a thin, disapproving line, although one can argue his face has been stuck like that for a very long time. he’ll spare him, at least, the official stance on that from their end, because it’s not really something that he’s willing to dredge up for him for now. but his demeanour does make him wonder. ]

You seem very indifferent about this. [ it unsettles him. ] I expected Char Aznable to be something else.

[ like when he was giving him orders. that kind of beast, but all the time. much older. maybe with long blond hair. he can’t quite place the feeling, but it does feel like disappointment to him. though it’s hard to be disappointed by someone who owes him nothing. ]

[grudged]

There are more important things to fight for, besides "noble" causes and backwards philosophies.

[So much for being the son of Zeon Zum Deikun, the most famous politician of their time. Indeed, he's indifferent, because he's sick of it. He's tired of that weight, hanging off his back, though he's the one that put it there. There's no such thing as righteousness; only revenge. There's no such thing as noble; only the perception of such.

Angelo clearly wanted a different answer. But that's the one he got, and the only one he'll ever get, from the man who became the ghost of Char.]

[apodictic]

— and for Char Aznable? What would that be?

[ how awful. that seems rather selfish. there are people who have staked their lives for that name. he thinks of his captain and the way he held his mask in his hands when banagher, that fool, demanded who he really was. and here is the actual man in front of him, and he has the gall to tell him there are more important things to fight for. he can’t accept it. it felt wrong, like having blood in his mouth, spread thin over his tongue.

certainly he can see where it crosses with his captain. certainly he can see similarities. but that indifference .... he doesn’t know it. hasn’t seen it. not even from his captain who rescued him from the bottom of the barrel back in side 3.

angelo stops walking, looking at him, demanding an answer. or — perhaps — most difficult of all, an answer he can be satisfied with, of which this char won’t be able to give him. ]

[grudged]

[Just as well. Char stops too, looks at Angelo. Really and truly looks.

For a moment, it seems things might erupt again. That he might storm off, or start some altercation, or else say to hell with it and leave Angelo to his own devices. But it's only for a moment, and it passes quickly, virtually unseen save for the brief spark in those blue, blue eyes.

There's a reason he usually hides them, other than the obvious: they're absolutely terrifying up close.]

For people.

[For his father. For Artesia. For the Zabis, to see them all strangled to death. For revenge, all driven by a single death. He steps closer, daring Angelo to disagree.]

You're not returning to a cause, or a philosophy, or even a mobile suit. You're returning to a person, to your captain. Isn't that right?

[apodictic]

Of course. I belong to him.

But if the Captain decided, tomorrow, that he will throw away his name and rank and live for himself, I will follow him.

Captain Full Frontal, however, continues to be the Second Coming of Char Aznable, leading Neo-Zeon as his ‘will’. Not his own as some ordinary person.

[ angelo meets his bright blue eyes with his own devoted ones, not seeing him — someone else. someone far away. he’s not afraid of those eyes. he’s stared at them often enough and has pledged himself to a man with the same eyes.

he puts his hand over his heart and continues, in that fervent spirit, ] I meant it when I said his battlefield is sacred ground. I would never fire in it, unless I have to. I will never fly in it, unless asked. I will assist him in every way I can as commander of his royal guard, but I will never get in the way of his fights. My cause is his will. And his will is the will of Char Aznable.

[ he only pauses to regard him, not really going to disagree with him at all, but merely to impress — as if he hasn’t already — ] I don’t know what happens between who you are now and in the future; but clearly, you are not there yet, Char.

[grudged]

Isn't it obvious?

[That smile returns, but...]

I'm going to die. Every single part of me, save for that single shred you've come to know, will perish, adrift among the cosmos.

[apodictic]

Everyone dies.

But after that —?

[ it is worth noting, perhaps, that angelo hasn’t smiled at him at all, yet, but he does now, and he looks positively deranged. ]

— my Captain, even if he dies in the cosmos, I will follow him there as well. He will never be alone in the dark.

[grudged]

That's a pretty romantic sentiment, you know.

[But hey, aren't they both? What lovely imagery, smiling like sycophants together.]

[apodictic]

The Captain has no need of such things.

[ and he had never dreamed of it, he knows his place, though romance is certainly what it is, however corrupt it may be.

at the corner of his eye, angelo spies the robot they need. it whizzes off carefully away from the crowds and presumably back to the hospital, or elsewhere.

should be easy enough. it’s not a difficult pursuit, and angelo looks at it like a predator. moves towards it like an animal stalking its prey, in lithe form. ]

[grudged]

[Char looks at it through much the same eyes: predatory and intense. He gestures to Angelo, suddenly donning that captain's cloak once more.]

Circle around, from the right. I'll get it from the left. Don't draw any attention.

[apodictic]

[ he nods tersely, and does as ordered. slow, patient, angelo moves to the right, keeping an eye on the robot as char takes it from the left. ]

[grudged]

[It's not too challenging to corner a robot, at least not on foot and not when it's in no particular hurry. The harder feat was cornering it where no one else could see, and where it couldn't call for its friends. Which Char manages by cutting into its path and hailing it with a big, big smile.]

Ah, I'm a little lost... could you give me some directions, please?

[He's directing it into an alleyway, one backwards step at a time, with Angelo bringing up the rear. Teamwork makes a dream work.]

[apodictic]

[ he sounds so innocent and harmless when he pitches his voice like that, it’s endearing to his ears. if he didn’t know that he was char, that voice could’ve belonged to someone else.

but it’s not, and he’s char. maybe the wrong one, but still char, with those bright blue eyes that — had they belonged to the right one — he’d follow straight to hell.

angelo, unfortunately, doesn’t have that kind of subtlety in him. it’s better left in the deft hands of char. but he does follow, while keeping a close eye on their surroundings. can’t have any of its friends or other people seeing them, after all. ]

[grudged]

[Once they're clear, Char unclips his gun and shoves it straight into an open port, where a well-placed bullet could seriously damage some circuits. The pleasant facade drops at once; he's back to giving orders, and in fact so self-assured that he presumes he can bully an AI into submission.]

Dispense all your rations. And send all coordinates of any available units to my device.

[No response...

Char hits it with the gun's hilt. A few cans drop out, after a moment's worth of processing.]

[apodictic]

[ this is the worst-looking dispenser angelo has ever seen. but the cans are coming out, and he takes them and counts three. ]

That can’t be everything. Hit it again.

[grudged]

Dispense rations.

[Hit! No response.]

Dispense rations...

[Hit! No response.]

Dispense rations!

[Hit!

...INSERT INTIMACY, RECEIVE RATIONS.]

What...?

[INSERT INTIMACY, RECEIVE RATIONS.]

Such a pain in the ass. It won't cough up any data, either.

[apodictic]

[ angelo is looking at it in disgust. ]

Did that say what I think it did ....?

[ he narrows his eyes at it, and then starts looking at the bracelet he has. angelo flips through its controls, and looks at the misfires he’s getting — and stumbling at his card, which he immediately shuts down with an annoyed hiss —

his face goes through a roller coaster of emotions at that particular moment; he then turns at the robot in such a glare, ready to fully crush it under his steel-toed heel. ] You little shit —

[grudged]

[Well, fuck. Operation: Keep Angelo Calm was not going well at all. And here he thought he was the violent one, beating the poor bot around... he's quick to rest a soothing hand on Angelo's arm, or at least as well as Char Aznable can soothe anyone, clarifying with the beeping AI.]

Could you clarify? So my, uh, friend doesn't fry your brain.

[Like he was literally about to do. There's more processing, more processing, and then...

HOLD HANDS.]

Err, I'm not sure you—

[♥ ♥ HOLD HANDS. ♥ ♥]

...and then you'll cough up more cans?

[Happy beeping noises.]

[apodictic]

[ angelo looks at it indignantly, but since char had wordlessly asked him to refrain from beating it up, he doesn’t move an inch. which is terribly difficult for him because he wants to destroy it with the cans he has in his hands. so: angry, barking dog. ]

If I hold his hand it’s going to be because I’ll be pointing that weapon onto your insolent head!

[grudged]

[Just going to... gently pluck out their current stash from Angelo's trembling arms. Set it aside. Ask himself, really ask himself, if a good deed was worth this sort of effort. If Angelo himself was worth the effort, but damn, that was some serious blowback over something preschoolers can pull off at the playground.

He winds up feeling so sorry for him, he decides to go along with it. And he's trying really, really hard not to smirk.]

You've never held someone's hand...?

[Scandalous! At least they're in an alleyway for this kind of lewd talk.]

[apodictic]

The point is that we shouldn’t have to beg for what amounts as half a day’s rations when it’s something people need.

[ god his blood pressure. it’s through the roof. angelo pushes a stray lock back from his face with a frustrated sigh. that stupid robot is still looking at them in uncertainty, flashing the same message, and angelo .... still wants to kill it. ]

[grudged]

[Note to self: work on the murderous urges first. Everything else comes second.

Char doesn't hesitate. After dutifully removing his glove, he offers his hand to Angelo. It should be rough and calloused, given his line of work, but it's soft and smooth instead. And not much larger than his own, young enough for a younger man.]

Tell you what. Why don't we give it a try? There's nothing to lose, right?

[Except dignity. But if Angelo has followed him this far, then...]

And if it's all a bunch of baloney, we'll part ways here. You'll never have to see me again, I promise.

[apodictic]

[ angelo narrows his eyes. ]

Does that include my Rozen Zulu? I highly doubt it. You’ll probably visit her when I’m not looking.

[ he looks at his hand.

angelo hates the fact that it’s not ... much larger than his own. he takes it, as if shaking hands with him, then flips it over to stare at the lines of his palm.

it’s different, he thinks. which .... he expected, but it is disappointing, still. ]

[grudged]

Yeah, you caught me there. She's cute.

[Char tolerates the rougher handling; he invited it, after all. He must be imagining someone else, in order to make this tolerable. Hoping for someone else, someone who might've shared his face and spoke with the same voice but different words. It could've been disappointing, to be so disappointing, but like this whole meeting Char suffers it in stride.

Because he'll wake up too, he's pretty sure. And there won't be anything worth smiling about, like he is now.]

You're not so bad yourself, if you stopped scowling.

[Or maybe because of it. Lalah was several shades of bratty herself, and that only added to the appeal.]