[ It's way, way, way below your station, and too hands-on for everything else he knows you're supposed to do in a day, but of course you do. ] [ And blocking: the last month or two back home was more relaxed, guild jobs never going to be as taxing as fighting to save the world, but his memories and his body have also been in Imeeji, where if anything he's pushed himself even harder. ]
[He grins when Yuri blocks his hook, and he steps back to guard again. His fighting style showing through. When using his artes he can be a little more out of range, but he's never been the type to back away from a fight either. So he throws a few jabs at Yuri watching him.]
It's okay if you're rusty, it just means we'll have to catch you up again.
No shame in that at all!
[Still teasing, obviously a smile spread onto his face.]
Which part? The part where I'm not surprised you'd insist on being hands-on with the newbies? I think it's smart. Get them to imprint on you like baby ducks.
[ He's always been a little faster; when they were younger, it never seemed to be fast enough to make a difference, but these days it helps: lets him dance back, out of range, before ducking low to sweep at Flynn's legs.
It feels good. Fluid. But a little wild, too; a little rough around the edges. Like the bareknuckled street fighting they used to do when they were younger. ]
They've got a ring here — you should join me in it sometime.
Really?! They are just new recruits that need help, they aren't baby ducks.
[Flynn goes down, sprawled on his back, his leg lashing out to take Yuri down to the ground with him. He laughs and can't help it since he hasn't fought exactly like this in a while.
It's been too long since they sparred like this together.]
[ This isn't sparring, it's no-holds-barred wrestling, and while he could've dodged — something about the idea of being on the floor on top of his oldest friend is...
nope, scratch that, he needs to be on his feet again immediately, heaving himself up off the ground into a handstand and then springing away. ]
I know I started it, but we're supposed to be fighting, not rolling around on the floor. [ This is so stupid, he's never going to get through this in one piece. ] —Do you still remember how to use a quarterstaff?
[ There are a couple more false starts after that first one; where they start to come together only for Yuri to pull back again, still horribly self-conscious, sour notes in the music they were building together.
But the moments in-between are promising, high marks, and when one of the scientists has the frankly brilliant idea to suggest they square off together against a third party, suddenly it's effortless.
No more facing Flynn down, trying to pick safe places to target — no more getting too close and being too aware of his scent. Just working in tandem against a common enemy, perfectly in sync.
It feels good, beyond good, and Yuri doesn't need anyone else to tell him that was a good Rise rating. ]
[There are a couple of false starts. They've never been good against each other, so when they are put against someone else, that's when they shine. He breathes with Yuri, takes his cues, pulls back, charges forward where he needs to, and he feels like he's come home.
Home to the one person he's always been able to be close to, who will always have his back no matter what.
He steps out of the ring near Yuri clapping him on the shoulder.]
[ Say that to him again after things are settled, his problem then will be less self-consciousness and more whoops now I'm really turned on, but in the meantime: yeah. It's so much better. He wipes a rivulet of clean sweat from his forehead and turns to wink at Flynn. ]
If they gave out prizes for high ratings, we'd win.
[ A winner, at any rate. Definitely in the 99th percentile. ]
[ ...but the problem with a really good Rise rating is that then they want you to get in the robot, Shinji, and.
And Yuri agrees, of course, because how can he not? He needed to square off with Flynn for this, would never have been able to stand having to wonder later what their rating could've been — but now they have a ludicrously high Rise rating, and refusing to try piloting the machine with Flynn would just be...
So incredibly suspicious.
He should say something. He should really, really say something. But he doesn't: he just accepts the suit from the scientists and takes it into a changing cubicle, where he struggles to put it on because his fucking hands are shaking.
You can do this. You've gotten through it with other people. You've gotten through it with Zari! Just... breathe. Keep it together. Clear your head.
Maybe you'll get lucky and a big monster will attack the facility in the middle of your test.
[ But it only takes him a minute or so longer to get changed than it should, and then he's making his way to the proper testing area, not visibly trembling thank you very much.
This — armor? — is so strange. In some ways it's really bulky; in others, it fits like a second skin. And if he stays focused on that, then... ]
[Flynn is the one that kind of hangs back this time. Not because of Yuri, but because this is technology and he has no idea what could happen to them. However, the scientists assure him it's going to be fine.
So finally he comes up in the same type of armor? suit? Whatever it is with the helmet under his arm, moving slowly towards Yuri.
Something feels different.]
Are you sure you want to do this? I'm still not sure it's a good idea.
[ A wide open opportunity to let Flynn talk him out of it, and Yuri should take him up on it, but instead he snorts. ]
With the score we got? C'mon, they need us.
[ When he looks at Flynn at all, it's very deliberately fixed on his face. As if the rest of him, in an outfit that's skintight in places, doesn't exist. ]
[Flynn, holds his helmet in both hands and takes a breath.]
You're right. We're here to help.
[He keeps his eyes locked with Yuri's and his mouth quirks up at the side.]
If this thing eats us? It's your fault.
[With that he puts on his helmet and lets himself be prodded and placed where he needs to be. He doesn't like it, it's too much metal, but he's not going to complain. It should be okay, he trusts Yuri.]
[ The guy who wears full plate is upset about this? It's because it shows off all the hard outlines of his body, isn't it. ;D ]
Oh, don't worry, I was already gonna take full responsibility for any disasters befalling us.
[ Because there's definitely still a part of his brain that's chanting please please please. Just take the choice out of his hands, don't make it something he has to admit he has any reservations about at all...
The poking and prodding doesn't seem to faze him: partly because he's let people do his eyeliner before and that's worse, partly because he's too deep in his own head to care what's happening to his body right now.
But the preflight checks are all done now. They just have to step into the controlling space...
Last chance, a little voice whispers in the back of his head. You should at least warn him about Tokyo-F.
But when Yuri catches Flynn's eye, he just — smiles thinly. ]
[Flynn snorts and rolls his eyes, as he adjusts his helmet and stands there letting the scientists and everyone check him over. He's nervous, but it just comes out in being more restless, shifting back and forth on his feet, stretching his arms, and rolling his shoulders. He's tries to force himself still.
He doesn't want to worry Yuri.]
Ready. Let's get this thing started.
[He gives Yuri his own small smile, nodding at his friend.]
The machines start up. Whir. Yuri is caught off guard, despite himself, by the way it feels as the mechanical arms come in close, attaching to his spinal cord — and then there's this frisson of awareness, a body much bigger than his own, an enormous shoulder that circles as he circles his own, and...
At first, it's fine. His mind's clear. He could almost forget that it's Flynn beside him in this not-cockpit, strapped into all the same machines.
Until the neural handshake completes, and then his awareness of Flynn is almost painfully acute, and he can feel himself starting to have thoughts about it, and—
Has anyone ever broken Flow on purpose before, because Yuri's doing it now: the equivalent of throwing himself out of a moving car, retreating into his ugliest memories of Tokyo-F.
Flynn will see flashes: waking up in the Game Tower, checking his phone for the latest set of rules, and then being somewhere else entirely — a forest in the Hunger Games, two young men a couple years younger than Yuri, one of whom Flynn might recognize, though in this memory he's all business as he advises using a magic armor that sheathes Yuri fully in bark; and then rapid glimpses of other games, Yuri always remembering to raise that armor again, his skin going pale and mottled. ]
No, he was more than nervous, as he felt the mechanical arms fit around him. He can feel something else, bigger and more powerful as he holds out the hand and opens and closes it. He let's out a breath, and tries to focus, he was doing REALLY well at focusing, but then something happens.
It's almost an audible crackle of something and he can feel, and there are scenes whipping by so quick that he literally feels like the breath is being punched out of him as he watches. The memories shoot by quickly, slowing down for brief beats before speeding up again.
What the hell is he seeing?!
It's hard to breath, and his legs buckle as he watches. He tries to focus, tries to scrabble back, but this is something he'd never seen, and that Yuri had never told him about. He hasn't been breathing, his head is pounding as he saw it. Everything is threatening to drag him out forcefully.]
[ He's the worst person, the worst friend, but at least he's not losing himself deeply enough in any of these memories for Flynn to feel any of it: just whirling images, a horrifying tableau.
Round after round of the Hunger Games, trying to keep things friendly even as he looked for other players who wouldn't mind a one-on-one duel for points, growing steadily more exhausted and numb until he finally died in his fifth round, mostly just irritated by the anticlimax of being taken out by a Deep Fryer Event instead of a fellow player, mentally if not physically flipping the production off for doing that to him.
Losing his hearing and then his hand, the hand he keeps chafing in moments of agitation when he thinks no one's looking, during Oregod Trail: a road trip through a frozen world with only one other young man for company, a young man he then had to trade off playing amateur "what's anesthesia" surgeon with. Their final obstacle, a frozen lake Yuri had to navigate alone, silent and steeled, until he was able to cross the finish line — to wake up in the Game Tower again, whereupon he quickly unwound the bandage on his restored right hand and squeezed it until it hurt.
The keen sense of personal violation as he tore through Ideal World after Ideal World, trying to tell friends and strangers alike that they were trapped in a dream that only seemed like happy endings: the strange, false intimacy in so many of these worlds, where he'd taken the place of their closest friends and had to convince them that the real people they loved weren't here; there's some focus on that one room where he briefly had what passed for healing powers in Tokyo-F and had to heal up a room full of bloody, messy corpses, and spent a while apologizing out loud to the otherwise empty-room, but then it just keeps going.
Glimpses of Last Supper, the game Yuri's unit showed up late to after almost everyone else was already three different kinds of magic crazy, the game where one of them was a Heart and the rest were Mouths and all of them were horribly, gnawingly, painfully hungry. Where they kept having to choose which other person to target, to try to feed on.
Waking up in the Game Tower again every time, sometimes fully healed, sometimes still injured, depending on whether they'd won or not.
Glimpses of Battleship, being trapped in a sub underwater and being hit by torpedo after torpedo, letting in water and strange fish that hurt them or messed with their heads. Glimpses of Foul Toxins. The distinct sense that Yuri's least favorite type of "trauma" game was the war council, where they had to pick teams or sometimes individual people to die, and you couldn't know who else was targeting you at the same time. Having to choose between friends, over and over again—
—and then there's the briefest brightest flash of blond hair and ocean-blue eyes, and Yuri not even knowing his real name but hoping, every time his unit was on the board, that he wouldn't be playing, and Yuri shoves that thought away as hard as he can but it was still there, heart-pounding. ]
[With each vision that shuttered past him, Flynn could feel a coldness settle in him. He felt dizzy, he wanted out of all of this. Did these things actually happen to Yuri? He felt his stomach roil and he reached up finally losing his footing, going to his knees. His fingers dig against the metal floor as he tries to focus on something.
Breathe. He tries to scream at himself in his head as the scenery whips by.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
His hand clamps over the visor on the helmet. He needs air. Needs, something--
But the most, overwhelming thing he needs right now is to stop these visions. He needs them to stop because he doesn't think he can bare anymore of them. He goes to take off the helmet, but he doesn't, can't tug it off. Not with how uncoordinated he is, he can't get his normally honed body to listen to him. His fingers are spasming and he grits his teeth.
Breathe.
He was not fine now. A sharp tinge of copper wafts into his nose, he must have bit his cheek. The glass on the visor of his helmet almost completely fogged over as he shuts his eyes. The pictures of Yuri in pain, Yuri dying, waking up, everything is too much for him.
But Yuri isn't getting off without Flynn's memories, the ones that bombard him hit like a crack to Yuri out of nowhere. An overwhelming sadness flows over him like a rushing tide, confusion, and fear all mingle together threatening to float up and deprive him of air. There is a small blond haired boy walking into a dimly light room.
"Mama?" Flynn's voice is hesitant, so, so young.
There was no answer. Soft footsteps sound on the old creaking floorboards, and dust particles catch in the air.
There's no answer from the figure from the bed, just the single hand off the side of the bed, fingers slack pointed down towards the floor with cracked nails. Then it's the choking sensation, as if someone had pulled all the air from the room, and panic.
"MAMA!" Cold fear. Intense pain lances and threatens to tare apart. Flynn hits his knees, numbly fumbling for his mothers hand, shaking it hard. "Mama! Wake up! Please wake up! I promise I'll behave! Please don't leave me!"
The scene is washed away in a torrent of sadness that slides like a glacial river.
His chest is on fire, still hurting right dead in the center. He had been lucky, the hit from Alexei hadn't killed him. He looked towards the side of the bed and noticed Estellise sitting with her hands clasped in front of her face, as if in prayer.
"Lady Estellise?"
"Flynn! Thank goodness you’re awake."
He slowly raises himself up into a sitting position, his body heavy from exertion. He’s relieved to see her. But, she’s not the one that’s on his mind. No, he looks around at the room looking for his friend.
"Where’s Yuri…?"
Lady Estellise’s face crumples as she presses a hand over her mouth. It takes her a long while before she pulls her hand away, tears shining in her eyes.
"Your knight said she saw him fall from Zaude."
Surprise zips through him, then a heaviness in his chest settles and something cracks. He reaches up and presses a hand to the center where the wound was the most tender. The stinging pain is nothing compared to the tremendous ache as he struggles to catch his breath at the news.
"No."
"Flynn I-"
"No."
It's all encompassing. The pain and the way it threatens to rend his chest apart, the absolute terror he feels is enough to steal breath from him. His heart cracks in his chest, just a little more.]
[ oh good they're both just dissociating at once then cool cool ] [ He sees the younger Flynn from the side of his eye, and selfishly he latches onto it, too: anything to distract Flynn from what he'd almost thought
(the other man in Tokyo-F, weeks of trying to unravel his feelings, not now shut up shut up)
and focuses on a kind older woman he'd never really known, horrible but innocuous, horrible but impersonal
(which is just such a great thought to be having about your f̸̺͓̣̌r̶̨͉̣̪̈́͗i̸̧̢͕̪̻̭̕ȩ̴̣̭͎͍̔̈̎n̵̛̰͈̳̞͂̆̿̈̍̓d̴̻̥͌͒͐͜'s dead mother, thanks brain he just fucking loves you) (he doesn't mean it, he knows this was one of the worst moments in your life—)
but then it's
then it's Zaude, and this time it isn't just a movie playing inside his head, he's starting to feel what Flynn felt in that moment, and the shock of it is what really hits him like a truck. ]
Yuri can feel this. But no, the feelings keep pouring out. The absolute heart stabbing pain he had felt. It hadn't been because of the wound on his chest, no, Lady Estellise had done the best she could with her healing as it was at the moment that had happened.
The wound burned. But, it was nothing compared to the utter feeling of helplessness and numbness that flooded through him. The disbelief as he sat there, fingers gripping into the sheets so tightly they almost ripped.
The feeling as if his heart had shattered.
No..
No..
No--
Yuri wouldn't go like that. Couldn't go like that. Flynn, even in pain, kicked out his feet the coldness of the floor and the pain surging through his chest as he tried to stand up, Estellise trying to steady him.
"I'm going to find him."
"Flynn..."
"He's out there. You all just lef-NGH."
He grips at the edge of the bed and tries to stand up, tries to breathe. But he can't. His face feels hot even as the rest of his body feels cold. His chest is pinching, the room is swaying, and his pulse is racing.
[ Flynn's fear is choking, overwhelming, and it's all too easy to be carried on the tide of it, but Yuri just keeps thinking numbly
(really?)
because he knew Flynn had been worried. He knew everyone had been worried. But this felt more like — panic? Like a panic attack, even. And that's just...
It'll pass, he thinks, even as more fear keeps crashing down on him in the stream. He was sad, but he would've been okay.
In fact, the fear continues. The memory stretches and slides by quickly, showing Flynn getting up against everyone's advice. Flynn getting Sodia, Witcher, and using the knights, those who would help to go looking for Yuri.
Through the ache of lingering injury, the grogginess, the late night pushing himself harder.
"Sir I--"
"No. We'll keep looking."
"We're needed elsewhere..."
The words sending despair through him that again is like the water raising up threatening to choke him. Flynn however, doesn't try to swallow it down, sits in it and refuses to move from the pain, the dark slowly encroaching on all sides threatening to swallow him down.
"Sir...We have orders."
They had been doing this for more than a day. Flynn is dead on his feet, and his body is threatening to make him rest.
But Yuri isn't there.
Yuri isn't there.
Yuri isn't there.
He should have never let him go, he should have grabbed his hand and made him stay. There are so many things--]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-05-26 01:08 am (UTC)Of course you do.
[ It's way, way, way below your station, and too hands-on for everything else he knows you're supposed to do in a day, but of course you do. ] [ And blocking: the last month or two back home was more relaxed, guild jobs never going to be as taxing as fighting to save the world, but his memories and his body have also been in Imeeji, where if anything he's pushed himself even harder. ]
I'll show you rusty.
no subject
Date: 2023-05-26 01:40 pm (UTC)[He grins when Yuri blocks his hook, and he steps back to guard again. His fighting style showing through. When using his artes he can be a little more out of range, but he's never been the type to back away from a fight either. So he throws a few jabs at Yuri watching him.]
It's okay if you're rusty, it just means we'll have to catch you up again.
No shame in that at all!
[Still teasing, obviously a smile spread onto his face.]
blah blah fight continues around the banter
Date: 2023-05-27 08:56 pm (UTC)[ He's always been a little faster; when they were younger, it never seemed to be fast enough to make a difference, but these days it helps: lets him dance back, out of range, before ducking low to sweep at Flynn's legs.
It feels good. Fluid. But a little wild, too; a little rough around the edges. Like the bareknuckled street fighting they used to do when they were younger. ]
They've got a ring here — you should join me in it sometime.
no subject
Date: 2023-05-27 09:27 pm (UTC)[Flynn goes down, sprawled on his back, his leg lashing out to take Yuri down to the ground with him. He laughs and can't help it since he hasn't fought exactly like this in a while.
It's been too long since they sparred like this together.]
Get down here!
no subject
Date: 2023-05-28 08:01 am (UTC)[ This isn't sparring, it's no-holds-barred wrestling, and while he could've dodged — something about the idea of being on the floor on top of his oldest friend is...
nope, scratch that, he needs to be on his feet again immediately, heaving himself up off the ground into a handstand and then springing away. ]
I know I started it, but we're supposed to be fighting, not rolling around on the floor. [ This is so stupid, he's never going to get through this in one piece. ] —Do you still remember how to use a quarterstaff?
no subject
Date: 2023-05-28 09:49 pm (UTC)We just have to be a little bit more careful with these, but yeah.
[They are goofing around a little too much, they need to be a little more serious or one of them could get hurt.]
1/2 -> gonna glaze forward a bit, lemme know if it's not okay
Date: 2023-05-29 08:34 pm (UTC)Please. I throw a mean punch.
[ or like, hundreds in a row, thanks brutal fang ] [ but he's nabbing a staff off the rack, twirling it gracefully and needlessly ]
The point isn't to beat each other up, anyway. It's to find a rhythm. To... sync up.
[ What he both wants desperately and fears. And none of these feelings are helping at all. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 08:41 pm (UTC)But the moments in-between are promising, high marks, and when one of the scientists has the frankly brilliant idea to suggest they square off together against a third party, suddenly it's effortless.
No more facing Flynn down, trying to pick safe places to target — no more getting too close and being too aware of his scent. Just working in tandem against a common enemy, perfectly in sync.
It feels good, beyond good, and Yuri doesn't need anyone else to tell him that was a good Rise rating. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 08:46 pm (UTC)Home to the one person he's always been able to be close to, who will always have his back no matter what.
He steps out of the ring near Yuri clapping him on the shoulder.]
That felt pretty good.
1/2
Date: 2023-05-29 09:02 pm (UTC)If they gave out prizes for high ratings, we'd win.
[ A winner, at any rate. Definitely in the 99th percentile. ]
2/3
Date: 2023-05-29 09:11 pm (UTC)And Yuri agrees, of course, because how can he not? He needed to square off with Flynn for this, would never have been able to stand having to wonder later what their rating could've been — but now they have a ludicrously high Rise rating, and refusing to try piloting the machine with Flynn would just be...
So incredibly suspicious.
He should say something. He should really, really say something. But he doesn't: he just accepts the suit from the scientists and takes it into a changing cubicle, where he struggles to put it on because his fucking hands are shaking.
You can do this. You've gotten through it with other people. You've gotten through it with Zari! Just... breathe. Keep it together. Clear your head.
Maybe you'll get lucky and a big monster will attack the facility in the middle of your test.
It wasn't too much to ask for, was it? ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 09:20 pm (UTC)This — armor? — is so strange. In some ways it's really bulky; in others, it fits like a second skin. And if he stays focused on that, then... ]
—Here goes, right?
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 09:26 pm (UTC)So finally he comes up in the same type of armor? suit? Whatever it is with the helmet under his arm, moving slowly towards Yuri.
Something feels different.]
Are you sure you want to do this? I'm still not sure it's a good idea.
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 09:53 pm (UTC)With the score we got? C'mon, they need us.
[ When he looks at Flynn at all, it's very deliberately fixed on his face. As if the rest of him, in an outfit that's skintight in places, doesn't exist. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 09:59 pm (UTC)You're right. We're here to help.
[He keeps his eyes locked with Yuri's and his mouth quirks up at the side.]
If this thing eats us? It's your fault.
[With that he puts on his helmet and lets himself be prodded and placed where he needs to be. He doesn't like it, it's too much metal, but he's not going to complain. It should be okay, he trusts Yuri.]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 10:07 pm (UTC)Oh, don't worry, I was already gonna take full responsibility for any disasters befalling us.
[ Because there's definitely still a part of his brain that's chanting please please please. Just take the choice out of his hands, don't make it something he has to admit he has any reservations about at all...
The poking and prodding doesn't seem to faze him: partly because he's let people do his eyeliner before and that's worse, partly because he's too deep in his own head to care what's happening to his body right now.
But the preflight checks are all done now. They just have to step into the controlling space...
Last chance, a little voice whispers in the back of his head. You should at least warn him about Tokyo-F.
But when Yuri catches Flynn's eye, he just — smiles thinly. ]
Ready when you are.
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 10:13 pm (UTC)[Flynn snorts and rolls his eyes, as he adjusts his helmet and stands there letting the scientists and everyone check him over. He's nervous, but it just comes out in being more restless, shifting back and forth on his feet, stretching his arms, and rolling his shoulders. He's tries to force himself still.
He doesn't want to worry Yuri.]
Ready. Let's get this thing started.
[He gives Yuri his own small smile, nodding at his friend.]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 11:00 pm (UTC)The machines start up. Whir. Yuri is caught off guard, despite himself, by the way it feels as the mechanical arms come in close, attaching to his spinal cord — and then there's this frisson of awareness, a body much bigger than his own, an enormous shoulder that circles as he circles his own, and...
At first, it's fine. His mind's clear. He could almost forget that it's Flynn beside him in this not-cockpit, strapped into all the same machines.
Until the neural handshake completes, and then his awareness of Flynn is almost painfully acute, and he can feel himself starting to have thoughts about it, and—
Has anyone ever broken Flow on purpose before, because Yuri's doing it now: the equivalent of throwing himself out of a moving car, retreating into his ugliest memories of Tokyo-F.
Flynn will see flashes: waking up in the Game Tower, checking his phone for the latest set of rules, and then being somewhere else entirely — a forest in the Hunger Games, two young men a couple years younger than Yuri, one of whom Flynn might recognize, though in this memory he's all business as he advises using a magic armor that sheathes Yuri fully in bark; and then rapid glimpses of other games, Yuri always remembering to raise that armor again, his skin going pale and mottled. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-29 11:10 pm (UTC)No, he was more than nervous, as he felt the mechanical arms fit around him. He can feel something else, bigger and more powerful as he holds out the hand and opens and closes it. He let's out a breath, and tries to focus, he was doing REALLY well at focusing, but then something happens.
It's almost an audible crackle of something and he can feel, and there are scenes whipping by so quick that he literally feels like the breath is being punched out of him as he watches. The memories shoot by quickly, slowing down for brief beats before speeding up again.
What the hell is he seeing?!
It's hard to breath, and his legs buckle as he watches. He tries to focus, tries to scrabble back, but this is something he'd never seen, and that Yuri had never told him about. He hasn't been breathing, his head is pounding as he saw it. Everything is threatening to drag him out forcefully.]
Y-Yuri!
cw: burns, hypothermia, amputation, cannibalism
Date: 2023-05-30 12:27 am (UTC)Round after round of the Hunger Games, trying to keep things friendly even as he looked for other players who wouldn't mind a one-on-one duel for points, growing steadily more exhausted and numb until he finally died in his fifth round, mostly just irritated by the anticlimax of being taken out by a Deep Fryer Event instead of a fellow player, mentally if not physically flipping the production off for doing that to him.
Losing his hearing and then his hand, the hand he keeps chafing in moments of agitation when he thinks no one's looking, during Oregod Trail: a road trip through a frozen world with only one other young man for company, a young man he then had to trade off playing amateur "what's anesthesia" surgeon with. Their final obstacle, a frozen lake Yuri had to navigate alone, silent and steeled, until he was able to cross the finish line — to wake up in the Game Tower again, whereupon he quickly unwound the bandage on his restored right hand and squeezed it until it hurt.
The keen sense of personal violation as he tore through Ideal World after Ideal World, trying to tell friends and strangers alike that they were trapped in a dream that only seemed like happy endings: the strange, false intimacy in so many of these worlds, where he'd taken the place of their closest friends and had to convince them that the real people they loved weren't here; there's some focus on that one room where he briefly had what passed for healing powers in Tokyo-F and had to heal up a room full of bloody, messy corpses, and spent a while apologizing out loud to the otherwise empty-room, but then it just keeps going.
Glimpses of Last Supper, the game Yuri's unit showed up late to after almost everyone else was already three different kinds of magic crazy, the game where one of them was a Heart and the rest were Mouths and all of them were horribly, gnawingly, painfully hungry. Where they kept having to choose which other person to target, to try to feed on.
Waking up in the Game Tower again every time, sometimes fully healed, sometimes still injured, depending on whether they'd won or not.
Glimpses of Battleship, being trapped in a sub underwater and being hit by torpedo after torpedo, letting in water and strange fish that hurt them or messed with their heads. Glimpses of Foul Toxins. The distinct sense that Yuri's least favorite type of "trauma" game was the war council, where they had to pick teams or sometimes individual people to die, and you couldn't know who else was targeting you at the same time. Having to choose between friends, over and over again—
—and then there's the briefest brightest flash of blond hair and ocean-blue eyes, and Yuri not even knowing his real name but hoping, every time his unit was on the board, that he wouldn't be playing, and Yuri shoves that thought away as hard as he can but it was still there, heart-pounding. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-30 01:00 am (UTC)Breathe. He tries to scream at himself in his head as the scenery whips by.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
His hand clamps over the visor on the helmet. He needs air. Needs, something--
But the most, overwhelming thing he needs right now is to stop these visions. He needs them to stop because he doesn't think he can bare anymore of them. He goes to take off the helmet, but he doesn't, can't tug it off. Not with how uncoordinated he is, he can't get his normally honed body to listen to him. His fingers are spasming and he grits his teeth.
Breathe.
He was not fine now. A sharp tinge of copper wafts into his nose, he must have bit his cheek. The glass on the visor of his helmet almost completely fogged over as he shuts his eyes. The pictures of Yuri in pain, Yuri dying, waking up, everything is too much for him.
But Yuri isn't getting off without Flynn's memories, the ones that bombard him hit like a crack to Yuri out of nowhere. An overwhelming sadness flows over him like a rushing tide, confusion, and fear all mingle together threatening to float up and deprive him of air. There is a small blond haired boy walking into a dimly light room.
"Mama?" Flynn's voice is hesitant, so, so young.
There was no answer. Soft footsteps sound on the old creaking floorboards, and dust particles catch in the air.
There's no answer from the figure from the bed, just the single hand off the side of the bed, fingers slack pointed down towards the floor with cracked nails. Then it's the choking sensation, as if someone had pulled all the air from the room, and panic.
"MAMA!" Cold fear. Intense pain lances and threatens to tare apart. Flynn hits his knees, numbly fumbling for his mothers hand, shaking it hard. "Mama! Wake up! Please wake up! I promise I'll behave! Please don't leave me!"
The scene is washed away in a torrent of sadness that slides like a glacial river.
His chest is on fire, still hurting right dead in the center. He had been lucky, the hit from Alexei hadn't killed him. He looked towards the side of the bed and noticed Estellise sitting with her hands clasped in front of her face, as if in prayer.
"Lady Estellise?"
"Flynn! Thank goodness you’re awake."
He slowly raises himself up into a sitting position, his body heavy from exertion. He’s relieved to see her. But, she’s not the one that’s on his mind. No, he looks around at the room looking for his friend.
"Where’s Yuri…?"
Lady Estellise’s face crumples as she presses a hand over her mouth. It takes her a long while before she pulls her hand away, tears shining in her eyes.
"Your knight said she saw him fall from Zaude."
Surprise zips through him, then a heaviness in his chest settles and something cracks. He reaches up and presses a hand to the center where the wound was the most tender. The stinging pain is nothing compared to the tremendous ache as he struggles to catch his breath at the news.
"No."
"Flynn I-"
"No."
It's all encompassing. The pain and the way it threatens to rend his chest apart, the absolute terror he feels is enough to steal breath from him. His heart cracks in his chest, just a little more.]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-30 02:03 am (UTC)(the other man in Tokyo-F, weeks of trying to unravel his feelings, not now shut up shut up)
and focuses on a kind older woman he'd never really known, horrible but innocuous, horrible but impersonal
(which is just such a great thought to be having about your f̸̺͓̣̌r̶̨͉̣̪̈́͗i̸̧̢͕̪̻̭̕ȩ̴̣̭͎͍̔̈̎n̵̛̰͈̳̞͂̆̿̈̍̓d̴̻̥͌͒͐͜'s dead mother, thanks brain he just fucking loves you) (he doesn't mean it, he knows this was one of the worst moments in your life—)
but then it's
then it's Zaude, and this time it isn't just a movie playing inside his head, he's starting to feel what Flynn felt in that moment, and the shock of it is what really hits him like a truck. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-30 02:14 am (UTC)Yuri can feel this. But no, the feelings keep pouring out. The absolute heart stabbing pain he had felt. It hadn't been because of the wound on his chest, no, Lady Estellise had done the best she could with her healing as it was at the moment that had happened.
The wound burned. But, it was nothing compared to the utter feeling of helplessness and numbness that flooded through him. The disbelief as he sat there, fingers gripping into the sheets so tightly they almost ripped.
The feeling as if his heart had shattered.
No..
No..
No--
Yuri wouldn't go like that. Couldn't go like that. Flynn, even in pain, kicked out his feet the coldness of the floor and the pain surging through his chest as he tried to stand up, Estellise trying to steady him.
"I'm going to find him."
"Flynn..."
"He's out there. You all just lef-NGH."
He grips at the edge of the bed and tries to stand up, tries to breathe. But he can't. His face feels hot even as the rest of his body feels cold. His chest is pinching, the room is swaying, and his pulse is racing.
There is so. much. pain.]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-31 01:28 am (UTC)(really?)
because he knew Flynn had been worried. He knew everyone had been worried. But this felt more like — panic? Like a panic attack, even. And that's just...
It'll pass, he thinks, even as more fear keeps crashing down on him in the stream. He was sad, but he would've been okay.
(wouldn't he?) ]
no subject
Date: 2023-05-31 01:40 am (UTC)In fact, the fear continues. The memory stretches and slides by quickly, showing Flynn getting up against everyone's advice. Flynn getting Sodia, Witcher, and using the knights, those who would help to go looking for Yuri.
Through the ache of lingering injury, the grogginess, the late night pushing himself harder.
"Sir I--"
"No. We'll keep looking."
"We're needed elsewhere..."
The words sending despair through him that again is like the water raising up threatening to choke him. Flynn however, doesn't try to swallow it down, sits in it and refuses to move from the pain, the dark slowly encroaching on all sides threatening to swallow him down.
"Sir...We have orders."
They had been doing this for more than a day. Flynn is dead on his feet, and his body is threatening to make him rest.
But Yuri isn't there.
Yuri isn't there.
Yuri isn't there.
He should have never let him go, he should have grabbed his hand and made him stay. There are so many things--]
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