for gipsy_danger

[danger_prone]

It wasn't the quiet of the last time he'd managed to visit her.  Instead of the slow lull of a midnight crew on standby it was the full fledged action of jaeger crews in full prep.  Instead of being in his own loose casual clothes Raleigh was in full drive suit.  And this time he wasn't going to hear Gipsy Danger's soft beeps and whirs.  This time he was going to hear her voice.

He pulled in a deep breath as they plugged him in and shut his eyes.  It had been along time.  Five years.  He found he was a strange mixture of eager and nervous.  An exhale through his teeth and he nodded.  No more running away.  It was time.

Mako was due to join them in their link this time.  Trail run, a prep for her, first time.  He remembered the nerves and the excitement and gave her an encouraging smile, last minute words of advice.  He was going in first though.  These weren't three linked consciouses familiar with the feel of each other.  It was two.  He and Gipsy.  First their link - and then they'd guide Mako in once they were stable.  He was glad for it.  There were things he wanted to share with just Gipsy right now.  Mako could have those parts of him later as well but first - first he wanted Gispy all to himself.  He wanted time for just them.  Mako would join them soon enough.

So he shut his eyes again and his chin dipped just the smallest bit, the habitual way it always did just before he took the Drift.  The countdown was a steady reassuring sound in his ear and he has the insanest urge to smooth down the hair inside his helmet, like a boy coming home after he'd ignored his mother's calls or a nervous guy on his first date.  The crooked smile, quick, touched his lips just as the familiar hole in the center of his forehead seemed to open and he found himself sucked in and pulled under. 

Welcome to the Drift.

Comments

[gipsy_danger]

It’s been a long five years for Gipsy Danger.

Five years of waiting, wondering, and soul crushing loneliness. Doubt, pain, and bitterness had tried to consume her (they’d been constant companions during this time of her ‘life’), but she was resolute.

Eventually -- someday -- the prodigal son would return to her.

Raleigh had needed to heal, and Gipsy understood. She needed to do the same, though admittedly it would have been an immeasurably lighter burden to bear had he actually been around. The feeling of Yancy’s death through her own receptors and coping mechanisms had been one of the most horrible things that she’d ever undergone – she could understand Raleigh’s need for solace, for peace. Grief was something the jaegers could – and did – experience, though it was in different ways than humans. What taught the jaegers to truly feel and know and experience (and appreciate human life more fully than just what they were programmed to do) was the neural connection to their pilots. That’s part of how the jaeger AIs had slowly started to evolve, after all.

Experiencing Yancy’s fear and panic had been a double whammy she hadn’t anticipated – and as far as she knew, no one had ever experienced such a thing. Most pilots that went down went down together, and the jaeger with it. She knew of one other unit that had been through something similar, an old Mark I, but even old Tango couldn’t boast the price that Gipsy had paid.

It wasn’t just Raleigh and Yancy’s arrogance that had gotten him killed – it had been hers, too. She knew better than to turn her back on an unconfirmed kill. She should have made a suggestion, nudged her pilots during their celebration, anything.

Any little thing could have saved Yancy, but she’d done nothing.

Feeling Yancy’s pain through Raleigh and in turn, Raleigh’s own pain – physical and mental - had been nearly unbearable. It had been so great it had been nearly tangible, something that could be physically touched as opposed to simply felt.

The moment she and Raleigh had mutually realized they were ashore and safe – so to speak – he’d disconnected, and everything had gone black.

That had been the last she had seen or heard of Raleigh Becket, until the night that he had returned to her, seeking her forgiveness – forgiveness she gave immediately, because he is her pilot, and he is hers.

Now, amidst the hustle and bustle of the active jaeger crew, Gipsy is still and quiet though internally she is a bundle of anxious nerves, eager to receive her pilot but apprehensive about the new addition. He’s in the area, she can feel him, and when the connection initiates and her consciousness is sucked into the drift, she can also feel that smile on his face, so broad, so crooked - so familiar.

The handshake is strong and firm; Gipsy Danger is welcoming her pilot home with open arms.

Her voice – not the lilting, unnerving tones of the LOCCENT AI, but something much, much different and far more dulcet in its range – greets him, accompanied by a flood of affection that seems to surround his consciousness.

Hello, Raleigh Becket. Welcome back to Gipsy Danger.

[gipsy_danger]

The session had not gone precisely as planned. Gipsy Danger had welcomed Mako in, embraced her in her thoughts and did her best to ensure that both of her pilots held strong through their first Drift together.

Unfortunately, there’s only so much that Gipsy can do if one gets knocked out of sequence. Raleigh goes first, the flash of memory leaving her startled and shaken and then it’s Mako, Mako who’s lost in her thoughts and her past and the fear that accompanies it.

It’s entirely out of Gipsy’s control, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t trying to fight for it. And oh, she certainly tries, but Mako’s memory is strong and her fear stronger, and all she can do is quietly panic and hope that Raleigh can help her regain control before a hole is blown in the side of the Shatterdome.

Later, when all is said and done and the threat is gone, Gipsy sits in her bay, conn-pod still attached, reliving Mako’s fear all by herself.