1/2

Date: 2023-05-29 09:02 pm (UTC)
at_heart: (warm :: if you know what i mean)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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. ]

2/3

Date: 2023-05-29 09:11 pm (UTC)
at_heart: (chatty :: oh so much headdesk)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ ...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.


It wasn't too much to ask for, was it? ]

Date: 2023-05-29 09:20 pm (UTC)
at_heart: (blank :: enjoy my back)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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... ]


—Here goes, right?

Date: 2023-05-29 09:53 pm (UTC)
at_heart: casual, with a totally straight face (chatty :: i guess we'll see)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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. ]

Date: 2023-05-29 10:07 pm (UTC)
at_heart: (smirk :: come with me if you wanna live)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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. ]


Ready when you are.
Edited Date: 2023-05-29 10:08 pm (UTC)

Date: 2023-05-29 11:00 pm (UTC)
at_heart: (blade :: took a hard hit)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ And in... they go.

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. ]

cw: burns, hypothermia, amputation, cannibalism

Date: 2023-05-30 12:27 am (UTC)
at_heart: (damn :: not again)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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. ]

Date: 2023-05-30 02:03 am (UTC)
at_heart: (damn :: oh no)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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. ]

Date: 2023-05-31 01:28 am (UTC)
at_heart: (guh :: you. you don't say.)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ 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.

(wouldn't he?) ]

Date: 2023-05-31 03:01 am (UTC)
at_heart: (blank :: a man of action)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ Hours turn into days, and still that — fear, pain, self-recrimination. Nights without sleep, even when Repede tries to nudge him into bed. He isn't eating. He's going to make himself sick.

(They're all worried, whenever he catches a glimpse of the rest of the party. Even Rita — even the old man.

It's enough to make him want to crack a joke, just to ease the tension. "Aw, I didn't know you cared." Or something like that.

But he's still inside Flynn and he can't make Flynn so much as smile.)

The days have started to blur together, but he knows he's past the point of hunger now; his stomach just hurts. But then, all of him hurts right now.

Why isn't it passing? Why isn't it... getting a little easier at least?

Estelle had told him Flynn hadn't given up, but in this moment he realizes he hadn't completely believed her.

You should've given up, he thinks distantly. You should've given up years ago. ]
Edited Date: 2023-05-31 03:02 am (UTC)

Date: 2023-05-31 06:14 am (UTC)
at_heart: (brood :: white means)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ It's so much. It's too much. How many days was he out for? How much more of this before someone (not him) (he was too much of a coward) sends Flynn a missive to let him know?

(he'd always thought) (not so very deep down, he'd thought)
(if he could've just stayed dead) ]

1/2

Date: 2023-06-02 01:20 am (UTC)
at_heart: (blade :: all downhill from here)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ Shouldn't they have been pulled out by now?

(The thought is more than a little hysterical, but Yuri can't help it.) (It feels like he's been trapped in this tiny castle room, feeling Flynn's pain, forever.)

He's pretty sure there was supposed to be some sort of failsafe. A button, maybe, that the scientists who should be monitoring their damned vitals are supposed to punch when the Flow between them breaks beyond repair.

He just needs to keep it together a little longer. Any second now, the machines will shut down and they'll be kicked out, even sent to the back of the line to restart the whole Rise process over again. This time, he can agree with Flynn that this whole thing fucking sucked and find something better to do with their time—

One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. ]

2/3

Date: 2023-06-02 01:31 am (UTC)
at_heart: (damn :: no good)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ ...but of course it isn't that simple. Time in here isn't passing in the same way, and all counting out the seconds does is make him more and more horrifically aware of how long he's spent hiding in a corner of Flynn's personal hell.

Distantly, Yuri thinks, he would take every sick, twisted thing Tokyo-F had ever done to him over one more minute of this. ]

3/4

Date: 2023-06-02 01:32 am (UTC)
at_heart: (damn :: gonna be a long night)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ Then maybe you should fucking do something about it. ]

Date: 2023-06-02 01:48 am (UTC)
at_heart: (blank :: so talk)
From: [personal profile] at_heart
[ He doesn't move physically, of course. His actual body must still be strapped into the machine, somewhere faraway from Flynn's stupidly tiny room in the castle.

But he moves nonetheless, crossing the room as fast as he can, every second of further delay only more painful, only to settle his hands very deliberately on the back of Flynn's chair.

(He should be apologizing already, not apologizing hurts too, but in this moment it's hard to breathe.) ]


Hey.

[ Fuck him, honestly. ]

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