[wip] if it's a little bit close

When the silhouette of the jaeger registers it’s like a blow to the ribs. Knocks the breath clean out of him. He has to stop, press a hand to the punctured-lung ache blooming just above his stomach. 

 

It’s Rise Falcon. He’d know her anywhere. All hangars look the same, in every Shatterdome he’s seen across three countries, expanse of industrial concrete, scaffolding, neck-craningly high ceilings to accommodate their occupants, and for a moment he isn’t in Sydney at all. There was a story they’d been set for English study at the academy, this man who’d been allowed to lead his wife out of death so long as he didn’t look back. But of course he did. People always do, in stories or out of them. Nobody can subsist on blind faith alone. Jaemin keeps his eyes fixed on the jaeger in front of him as he takes one step forward, and then another, and then another.  

 

[wip] antithesis / synthesis

 Renjun tried to kill Donghyuck this morning. Jaemin only caught the tail end of the fight, Donghyuck carefully winding an iridescent skein of magic—Renjun’s magic—around his wrist, guards flooding into the room. Divested of his powers Renjun is too slight to dispatch an entire fleet of security guards by himself, though he certainly gives it his best shot, and in the end he’s dragged out unconscious. 

 

“Again?” Jaemin says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the doorframe. “What’s that, the third time this month? Injunnie’s persistent, I’ll give him that, but seriously?”

 

Donghyuck hoists himself up onto the desk, heedless of the papers fluttering to the floor. He waves a hand imperiously. “I lost count. It’s just his way of showing he cares, you know.”

 

“Most people stick to flowers and not assassination attempts,” Jaemin says.