Yzak Jule (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coordination) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synflux2024-05-09 03:23 pm
coordination) wrote in synflux2024-05-09 03:23 pm
[ OPEN ] here comes the boooooooy
WHO: Yzak and you!
WHAT: Various "come, let's get CR balls rolling" things
WHERE: All over
WHEN: WHENEVER, he's new, so ~new guy time frame~
WARNINGS: n/a but will note if anything comes up!
( Top levels in the comments! Hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
gaignun or urtv @ disco for any questions/etc. Down with wildcards too so don't adhere to just the top levels if you've got an idea! )
WHAT: Various "come, let's get CR balls rolling" things
WHERE: All over
WHEN: WHENEVER, he's new, so ~new guy time frame~
WARNINGS: n/a but will note if anything comes up!
( Top levels in the comments! Hit me up at
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
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[ 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. ]
no subject
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!?
no subject
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! ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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!
no subject
[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?
no subject
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?
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...Revelation as well. And... Housing unit 001...?
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[ 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. ]
no subject
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.