synflux | [ OPEN ] here comes the boooooooy

[ Yzak Jule is used to the life of a soldier. He's prepared to get nasty and bloody and sweaty and all sorts of other gross. That, of course, doesn't mean he still inwardly hates it when it happens, he's just well adjusted to tolerate it for the sake of his duty as that's more important than his own comfort.

He's never been this absolutely wet and slimy, though. So this it's a new experience when he comes to and is down on his hands and knees, head shaking to flick what he can from blocking his vision, drops splashing from his hair. He's soaked and his lack of anything but undergarments means that after a couple of beats he becomes aware of that with the chill he feels crawl over his bare skin coming into contact with the open air. But that doesn't matter: what matters immediately is information. Where he is. What's happened. Who else is there with him. Seize understanding and thus hopefully control of the situation because in this moment he is lost and confused and feels helpless—

The glisten of golden hair near him even through the goo is something he can't miss, clearly waking up to whatever the fuck this is, just like he is. Dearka. He's not alone here. More than that, he's not alone here (because there is a difference between the two). Yzak turns his head toward his partner and opens his mouth. ]

Dea- hgk!

[ He's cut off by a brief bout of coughing, choking on some of the fluid. Gross. ]

Damn it...! [ He grumbles to himself as he sit up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand ... which doesn't do much when the hand is ALSO gooey, but, you know. ]

[Dearka's own experiences as a soldier, the conditions and stressors and all the nastiness that comes with battle, line up almost exactly with Yzak's. There's just one crucial difference between the two of them: Dearka has actually experienced captivity before.

Not that the Earth Forces ever shoved him in a goo filled pod; that angle is entirely new. But his history does put a spin on his immediate reaction upon waking that is just ever so slightly different. A contradictory tinge of familiarity towards the sensation of waking up somewhere so utterly un-familiar; for his first few semi-conscious moments, his mind his floating through a bleary haze as much his body is floating through that draining stasis fluid. And he is flung, in an abstract sense, back to those early days aboard the Archangel... Back to before his cell ceased to be a surprising place to wake up in. Before his feelings of shame and loneliness became ever-present companions upon which he'd reflect.

As confusing and distressing as that all would be on it's own, the coughing and spluttering he goes through in the process of waking from his pod, in tandem with the others in the room, only adds to the unpleasantness. It's the sound of a very familiar, very agitated squawk which finally spurs Dearka into action; it snaps him out of his uncertain spiral, and makes him push through the stress of acclimating faster than he otherwise might have.]

Y... Yzak!

[He's still half blinded by slime, but he viciously shoulders his way out of the pod and barely manages to keep his footing as he staggers free, stumbling to his friend's side in seconds. Dearka, who is usually so calm these days, is absolutely bristling as they unite, glaring suspiciously around the room even as he's still trying to blink stasis fluid out of one eye at a time. He looks like he's about ready to bite anyone who gets within 5 ft of either of them.]

Oy... Just what the hell is going on here...!?

[ They're very much in tandem in that moment, because Yzak so often shifts into that tense, defensive, ready-to-attack-if-needed position, and this moment is no different. Dearka comes to him, and as he blinks himself into clearer vision Yzak's looking over and up at his partner, as well as behind him and what he can make out of the rest of the room to likewise ensure his and their immediate safety.

But it's not hard to quickly get the impression that whatever is going on ... there's no active threat to them in this room. Not that it does much because Yzak still does lot let himself lower his defenses, something is still clearly here, somewhere close if not in this very room. He shifts a leg so he can rise to kneel on one knee, an arm reaching up to Dearka to help hoist him up the rest of the way - quickly and wordlessly for he trusts the other will react and move to give him the hand up. ]

I don't know—

[ Of course with the way they're both very slippery, he doesn't opt for his hand or even his forearm, but rather to grab behind his elbow. And even that's a bit of a struggle, but Yzak gets up onto his feet and immediately takes a step to the left so he's not standing in all of that goo. Don't want to chance slipping right back down onto his ass. ]

That voice. Did you hear it, too? [ He turns his head to look over his shoulder at the pod he was just so unceremoniously dropped out of. ] Just a moment ago. [ "Your questions will be answered soon enough." Yet even with that promise, Yzak narrows his eyes with heavy suspicion. ]

[Of course he offers him a hand up. Actually, he offers the elbow first thing, because he is-- regrettably, for those of us who love a good moment of slapstick comedy-- competent, and a good second-in-command. He watches Yzak for a moment longer before assessing the room himself, eyes skimming from point to point with intense suspicion.]

...Yeah, I did. [He doesn't sound impressed.] Can't say I found it particularly reassuring though. And there's no sign of whoever said it.

[His golden hair, which is usually slicked back and carefully coiffed, is absolutely sodden from all the stasis fluid. Irritated, he pushes a few wet strands out of his eyes and then falters, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth before rubbing at his eyes with thumb and forefinger.]

Damn....! What the fuck?! I...

...?

[He doesn't finish the sentence. Eyes widening with horror, he's just noticed there's something... Very unusual about his wrist, and is staring at it intently.]

Edited 2024-05-16 13:09 (UTC)

[ That's actually assuring, because that means Yzak was not, in fact, just hearing voices out of some sort of delirium. Still worrying, but at least he's not losing his fucking mind.

Not yet anyway, and even that will be ... tempered, when it finally comes around, unbeknownst to the both of them.

Still, Dearka doesn't sound impressed and Yzak doesn't look impressed, about to speak what's next on his mind before Dearka derails that completely with that next reaction. ]

What...?

[ He can't see what Dearka is looking at on his wrist, but his expression alone sends a sense of dread pulsing through his body. In response, Yzak automatically brings up his own hand to take look at his wrist. And sure enough, just like his best friend, he, too, has what is clearly some sort of computer chip literally embedded into his skin. Dearka's own shock doesn't even serve as any sort of cushioning for the same sort of dismay that Yzak's expression shifts into. ]

The hell are these things?!

[ And so easily in Yzak, fear invokes anger, so he bares his teeth as his left hand snaps up to claw at the chip. But unfortunately it's not just the fact that his fingertips are still slick with the pod fluid that they just uselessly glide over it, but that thing is in there pretty solidly. ]

I was on some kind of table, [ He speaks with a tone that's just barely edged with uncertainty - that moment that he can only hazily recall still feels like a dream. But now... ] they put these in us?

[ And then he's whirling around to the nearest door, half open and inviting them in to dress and dry off. But those two things are suddenly the last thing on Yzak's mind. ]

That voice said they have answers? They've better give us answers! Where are they!?

[ And then he's storming off toward that door. ]

[There's really something about the way Yzak reacts to things, which has an odd effect on the way Dearka does to the same. It's not... Calming exactly, but it kind of neutralizes things. Yzak flying off the handle always prompts Dearka to try and keep his cool, such is the case here. Yzak clawing at his chip distracts Dearka from staring at his own, and it redirects his concern elsewhere. Namely--]

H-hey, Yzak! Knock it off, you're just gonna hurt yourself if you--

[Ah. Nevermind... Looks like he can't dig it out. That's not exactly a relief, but at least Yzak isn't about to open up a vein or something. Dearka sighs, sags his shoulders, and presses the heel of one palm against his forehead, gritting his teeth. His eyes feel like they're throbbing in their sockets, and though he feels otherwise fine physically, he can't help but feel like there's something concerning about that...?

...No time to contemplate what, though. Taichou-dono is on the warpath.]

Eh? YZAK!!!!

[A few beats behind, Dearka calls out and hurries after him, wet feet plapping on the floor. He reaches clumsily for his friend's arm, tries to get a hold on him despite both of them being slippery as seals at the moment.]

Hey! I want answers too, but can't we at least make ourselves somewhat presentable first? There's no sense in running off half-cocked like this!

[Also you might slip. And that would be really embarrassing.]

[ Getting a hold of him is tough right now, so he feels Dearka's hand reach for his arm, which slips right out his attempted grip.

But feeling the attempt, it's enough to give Yzak pause, at least. He stops mid-stride to glare back at him, but doesn't fall into an idle position, fully intending to continue on. Luckily(?), he has not yet felt that implant in his eye properly activate yet, so his focus is still very singular. ]

Like I care about looking presentable to a bunch of people who cut into us!

[ He looks around after that impatiently - if he's going to stall for this, they'd better make it quick. ]

[Alright, fair point... Dearka's not feeling particularly charitable towards whoever did this to them either. Even so...]

Geez...

[Rather than following, Dearka maintains his position by... Pivoting over towards the lockers to grab one of those clean towels. He balls it up loosely and tosses it towards Yzak.]

At least dry yourself off first. How's anyone supposed to take you seriously if you run in there all sopping wet and wearing only your underwear?

[He grabs another towel for himself and starts mussing at his hair with it.]

[ Hey, who knows, maybe the rage of a mostly naked, soaking wet, yelling feral man is exactly the scare these people need.

Yzak snaps a hand up to grab the towel, quickly shaking it open and wiping at his own face. It comes up over his head and with newly cleared vision he can peer over to those lockers while he takes that moment to dry his hair as much as he can - perhaps at least enough so it's not dripping anymore. ]

What else is in there?

[ By the time he says that, he's already marching over to them while running the towel down a shoulder and arm with the opposite hand. With just enough care to keep balance (goo, goo everywhere on this floor by now) he nudges the door of one of them open with a foot to reveal at least something more to put on than what they've got. ]

[Maybe... Or maybe it'll just get them laughed at. The latter feels a little bit more likely, TBH.]

Ummmm...

[Both hands still busy rustling the towel over his hair, Dearka pauses and considers the locker, though Yzak is soon over and nudging it open as soon as he asks anyway. He leans just a little closer to examine the interior, finding a set of lounge clothes and what looks to be... Some kind of flight suit, maybe? His expression grows even more grave.]

...Those definitely aren't ZAFT colors.

Nothing about this is us.

[ He says that with a grimace and a quick glance down to his wrist again. ZAFT has done some pretty fucked up shit, but pods, installing chips into people, all without any explanation nor a chance to even ... accept it? Yzak doesn't even vaguely remember being approached or asked about anything. There's something wrong here. Something very wrong.

And it's only going to get worse. Because once they've dried enough, slipped on that loungewear - finally looking something resembling normal again - and peered into the meager excuse of medbay that's just through that nearby door, that's when Yzak's own ocular device makes itself known. It's lighter in here than it was where they awakened, and he's fussedly looking at his wrist again when it happens, the ceiling lights glinting off of the small embedded chip.

He's felt pain like the sharp stab he feels behind his eyes as if a knife is being lodged between them before. Even though those scars, physical and emotional alike, are long gone, the actual feeling of when he'd gotten that face injury from battling the Strike Gundam is something he'll never forget. That's a bit what this feels like, and he squeezes his eyes shut, bringing that hand he was looking at up, balling a fist and pressing a knuckle against one of his eyelids. ]

Haah, fuck, now what...!? [ He hisses the words out through clenched teeth. Surprisingly, that question gets an answer, as their little orientation finally loads up to brief-dump their current situation. ]

[Dearka is actually a few steps behind Yzak while the latter is checking out the medbay, because as they're walking away he's gotten a bit... Distracted... By the discovery of something odd.

It's behind his one ear, so he can't exactly get a visual on it. But while he was toweling himself off he felt it: some kind of unknown protuberance that he's POSITIVE was never there before. It doesn't feel organic? He's kind of scratching around it at first, wondering if maybe it's another one of those chips like the ones they just found in their wrists... But it definitely doesn't FEEL the same. It feels... Almost more like a...

...

He looks up sharply when Yzak swears, distracted from following that thought to its worrying conclusion.]

Yzak? What's wrong--ghhk!?

[His hackles were starting to go up just out of a general concern for his friend. But then his implant kicks in a second later, and the low-grade headache he's had since he woke up intensifies.]

Fuck!

[One hand on one eye, the info dump shows up in front of his vision too, and he freezes up, a sickening feeling of foreboding building in his gut. He can speed-read it fast enough, but coming to terms with its contents, and acknowledging just how the fuck he's even seeing the information in the first place is... Is...

He shudders, feeling more violated now than ever. And he growls, now sounding deadly serious:]

What the FUCK is all this...? Am I reading this right? Did they fuck with our brains!?

[ It's as though that image becomes clearer through the pain - the faces looming over him on that table and deeming him good enough before they cut into him. Yzak steps back - clumsy but not exactly a stumble, his other hand out behind him until he feels the edge of one of the medbay beds and uses that to brace against. And he takes in that information as quickly as its fed to him, the hand over his eye sliding up to press his palm over his forehead, fingers tangled through his own bangs. His eyes are open, strained because it hurts and the screens in front of him aren't coming from some techy headset but from within himself...

His fingers curl so tightly in his hair that it hurts, but it's all Yzak can do short of doing that to his own eyes because just like that embedded chip in his wrist he feels that visceral need to claw whatever is in there out. But there's the part of him that knows, that feels it all so deeply embedded inside of him that he can't do that without ripping himself into pieces. ]

That's exactly what they did. [ His voice is tight, hissed, deep, beyond that line of anger he usually hits that loops back around and almost seems calm, but his expression gives away the absolutely disgusted, nearly murderous rush he feels in himself because his sense of autonomy is the worst place one can hit Yzak. Lacking control, lacking information is something so awful and sensitive in him because of how much he realized he actually lacked it during the first war. (still lacks it now in ways, in his own life)

And yet, something stops him from losing it completely. But he yells out against that voice, cursing it and demanding more information. What's been put inside of them? No, not a short summary, every single piece of it, where it's connected and what it does, anything to know, anything so he can focus on it, maybe take it into his own control somehow. The explanations provided alert him to what Dearka just felt behind his own ear, and Yzak brushes his curtain of hair out of the way to feel the button installed behind his own. It takes all of his will not to claw his fingernails into it like he did to his wrist. Why weren't they asked first? Why should they be expected to do anything after all of this violation to their bodies and their wills?

The more questions he rattles off, though, the tone he takes on shifts ever so slightly, into one Yzak's taken on tons of times before. The sort that implies that despite his grousing and his yelling, he's ... not going to reject it. Huh! ]

[Dearka doesn't have quite the same hangups or anxieties that Yzak does, but that doesn't mean he's taking this situation a whole hell of a lot better. The degree of violation they've apparently been subjected to would set anyone off. Knowing that their brains were tampered with really takes that to a new level of unforgivable. Whatever these implants are, it's obvious that they're of a technological level beyond what the two of them are familiar with... And if their captors can create such devices, what other disciplines might they be as advanced in? Is their understanding of neurology on the same advanced level? If so, what else might they have toyed with while they were rooting around in their heads?

He grinds his teeth and makes his own demands of the system, and for a moment they both fall silent as they verbally spar with the computer that now lives in their heads. Dearka's questions are not devoid of the technical details, but he's more immediately focused on the why. Why them? Why here? What possible justification could their captors have for violating their autonomy to this extent?

The answers to those questions are... Not exactly enough to quell his anger entirely, but they are enough to stop him from seeing red for the moment. He comes around a little faster than Yzak does, enough to shake off the last vestiges of the activation headache and make his way over to his friend, a scowl still lingering on his features. He touches Yzak's arm lightly, quietly reminding him that he's not alone in all of this, and waits for him to surface from the tidal-wave of information.]

[ You know it's bad when Yzak isn't appeased by hearing that their experiences and talents are the reasons they've been taken here. Since he's so easily pleased by hearing compliments and having his hard work praised in such a way. Because of course his skill should be wanted by any smart organization.

Yzak's now got a headache for entirely different reasons, even when the one due to activating inside of him cedes. He hardly looks satisfied with what he hears either, but his rage does seem a little more subdued. Silver linings. Dearka's touch anchors him, the reminder that neither of them are alone in this loud and clear. Sure, they're both perfectly capable of handling a situation like this on their own if they had to, but the support, the familiarity of something to lean on and support, carry the weight of it together ... Yzak is glad they've got that right now in each other. ]

So that's it then? [ He bites, fingers untwisting from his hair as brings his hand down some. ] We're so god damned good at what we do, some interdimensional organization decides to kidnap up for their cause.

And fully expects us to just go along with it when we've got much more important matters to deal with back home!

Seems like it, yeah.

[Dearka's tone is, for lack of a better word, taut. He doesn't have his typical easygoing swagger going on right now, those blond eyebrows of his still knit together in consternation. Yzak is correct, but... They were also brought here to help what sounds like an extremely dire situation. He can't discount that factor.

Whether or not those are his own thoughts, or if it's the influence of the chip tampering with his brain... We may never know. What is definitely still 100% Dearka, is the way he automatically looks to Yzak now for guidance. Always following, always ready to support.]

So. What's our next move from here, Commander?

[ Yzak's mind is at odds with that fact, too. Though he struggles more, fights more, fiery and stubborn to push against something that presses up so harshly against him. Even later he'll be more concerned about how this whole issue could potentially seep into their own world. But for now...

Dearka asks, and Yzak is already casting his gaze from the door they just came through, to the one on the opposite end of the room. The hand he has braced on the edge of the bed squeezes the unimpressively thin mattress, and then he pushes himself back straight up to his feet. What is their next move here? Even with the information dump they just got, there's still a hell of a lot of unknown all around and ahead of them. So right now... ]

The others who were just dragged here are probably just as pissed off about this as we are now! We should find out how many of us there are. Come on.

[ Swinging right back into it, Yzak makes for that latter door. ]

More importantly, it sounds like this has been going on for some time, so those who have been here longer, they probably have more useful information than what we're being fed. This stuff is useful, but I'd rather hear from someone in the same situation we're in than the ones who are forcing us all into it.

[ And it's obvious enough as to why. There's a tenseness in Yzak's expression as he reluctantly checks his device again - he's going to hate the process of having to get used to this.

Mumbled: ] Team Revelation. That's something else we need to look into; what each team has been assembled to do. Where were you assigned, Dearka?

[Dearka pauses to double check his assignment as well. It is extremely impressive technology. It'd be pretty exciting to mess around with, if only he'd, you know, actually consented to having it implanted in the first place??? His purple eyes light up, and they flit back and forth as he reads through the on-screen text that only he can see.]

...Revelation as well. And... Housing unit 001...?

011.

[ Wow he should be 001? Because he is #1 always? ~~Athrun isn't here so he does not apply.~~ ]

That's a relief, being assigned to the same team. [ And honestly Yzak wouldn't have it any other way.

Not to mention ... they're still so new here that Yzak doesn't know what the deal is with the teams thing. What if they were somehow pitted against one another? That's where his mind goes when he thinks and speculates, so the relief is that much more powerful because he doesn't want to consider a situation where he and Dearka stand on opposite sides of anything. ]

And our ... weapons are in DISPATCH? We're to be escorted there to confirm our ownership of them. [ All spoken like a question, because when they say 'weapons' ... well, there are a few things that could mean. ]

[Yzak do you want to swap so that you're number 001. Because Dearka would probably let you. He doesn't give a shit.

He's still fiddling with the Occular, pulling up a few search inquiries related to the teams and skimming through some explanations with the typical speed reading nonsense one would expect from a coordinator.]

Seems like the teams are largely for organizational and operational purposes. [He turns the Occular off and smirks.] But you're right: at least they're smart enough to know not to separate us. Guess we should go see if they're smart enough to equip us properly, too.

[ OPEN ] here comes the boooooooy

[ CLOSED / Dearka ] awakening

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