2023-06-25: Liquesco
- Log: 2023-06-25: Liquesco
- Cast: Angelo Sauper, Zechst Ade
- Where: The Charne
- Date: U.C. 0097 06 25
- Summary: Angelo Sauper puts himself back together. Takes place immediately after the events of 2023-06-21: Insurrection: Aphelion.
Oh, hello Angelo. Did you want to help me with the garden today?
Wowwww. They're so pretty!
Haha. Aren't they? I spend too much time on the roses, I think,
but I can't help it. They're my favorites.
Ummm... ummmmm!
Hm? What is it, Angelo?
Why are they purple!
Why purple? Mm. Well, it's because...
Metal screams across metal as the remains of the Krake Zulu spill across the loading bay of the Musaka-class Sleeves ship, The Charne.
The crew of The Charne are upon the blackened wreckage that was once Lieutenant Angelo Sauper's mobile suit in moments. Within, its pilot can hear instructions; shouts; the mechanical roar of a saw as they begin to open a path towards the damaged cockpit hatch. But it's all a numb echo of warbling, indistinct noise in the young commander's ears.
Sitting motionlessly, Angelo's purple gaze focuses upward, staring at the slate grays of the Krake's cockpit that once showed him the infinite of space. His stare is a blank, empty thing as he traces the confines of his titanium cage. His eyes squeeze shut. There is only the smallest of lingering tremors in his gloved fingers as they reach up, unlatching and removing his helmet. They maneuver through askew locks of snowy white hair, bringing tidiness and order back to the chaos. He takes in a breath.
By the time the cockpit doors of the Krake are breached, Angelo Sauper is emerging into the embrace of zero gravity with not a single sign of blemish or disarray, jaw set and gaze hooded. The only thing he can't help is how pale he looks.
"Lieutenant Sauper," begins Zechst Ade, a young guardsman with short brown hair; he hesitates for a moment, tentative concern hitching his voice, "are you--"
"The Krake's been compromised, but there's enough material to be salvaged," Angelo calmly interjects. "Start the disassembly process. I'll determine what parts should go where once we know what can be preserved and what needs to be broken down for raw materials."
"Ah-- understood, sir. Also, there's something... lieutenant?"
Ade blinks as he watches Angelo float past toward the hangar exit without a single word. The doors hiss open and shut behind the Guard commander, leaving Ade scratching his head in quiet bemusement and worry.
"... Alright, you heard the lieutenant," he begins, after a moment. "Let's start with the cockpit, and..."
The door to the ''Charne's'' restroom has been locked via command override. The stalls are all empty... save one, furthest from the entrance.
Positioned far enough away that the sound of retching never makes it past the bathroom doors.
The taste of bile fills Angelo Sauper's mouth with its foul, familiar presence as he slumps against the bathroom floor from his kneeling position. His back bumping against the stall wall, cold sweat beads at his forehead as he sucks down deep, uneven breaths, feeling the way they burn down to his lungs.
No wonder your heart's so heavy!
Lingering sentiments begin to froth up like all that bile; his knees bend, until they squeeze tight against his chest.
No wonder you've dug that moat!
shut up.
I dare, because no one will ever tell me what to do again.
shut up!
You think killing Permanence will fix you?! Killing me?
NOTHING WILL!
"SHUT UP!"
The sound of Angelo's gloved fist pounding the wall fills the stall; the sharp ache of the impact works from the side of his wrist all the way down to his elbow. And for the longest time, he just sits there, curled up, his labored breathing his only companion.
Memories bubble to the surface;
running down a road
escaping from him
and with every trembling inhale,
knowing it doesn't matter
because you're still not
he shoves them back down, deeper and deeper.
... It doesn't matter.
I don't matter.
As long as the colonel exists...
As long as he can use me...
The next breath Angelo Sauper takes is deep, slow, and steady. Purple eyes open, settled into quiet resignation.
"..."
It's habit, how methodically he cleans the bathroom before he leaves, until not a blemish remains. How he washes his mouth until the scent of it is gone. How he puts himself back together until that crisp, prideful dignity is the only thing that shows.
Angelo double checks himself in the mirror. But there's no happiness at the sight of that perfect presentation. No vain pride.
Just a frown of discontent before he makes his way out, reopening the doors to the pristine bathrooms once more.
In the aftermath, Angelo helps Zechst Ade in disassembling the aftermath of their retreat: taking stock of what weapons they managed to retrieve; what personnel they lost and how many they can can verify as dead or alive; how the parts of scrapped machines, including the Krake, should be distributed. He takes his time to help Ade through it all. He is patient, if always at a detached remove. He makes sure what remains can be consolidated and used to keep fighting, just a little bit longer. And for the most part, Ade writes down his instructions to a faithful T.
Except...
"... And for the Krake's Quasi-Psycommu, it should be interchangeable with the Doven Wolfs. We can use them as back up..."
"... Actually, lieutenant -- the Quasi-Psycommu's already been requisitioned."
"... What?"
Angelo stares at the second lieutenant, brows furrowed and lips creased in bemusement. Despite it, Zechst Ade manages a smile, rifling through sheaves of smartpaper before he tugs out a stack of them. Mechanical design overview and redesign for...
Angelo blinks as he leafs through the pages.
"This is... my Geara Zulu?"
"Yes, sir. Well -- not anymore, sir. They're redesigning it, see, based on the combat data we acquired from the Krake. The Rewloola dropped off these files and the new parts--"
Angelo feverishly thumbs his way through design documents. He stares, for a long time, at the cockpit design.
Psycho-Frame.
Fingers tighten imperceptibly around smartpaper.
"How--?"
"How? Oh, the Psycho-Frame? Actually -- we had some left over! Remember?"
Angelo's eyes widen. "--The Sinanju--"
Abe beams. He does not notice the way Angelo's already pale skin pales a single shade further. "Yes, sir! The base is your Geara Zulu, of course, but it'll be using parts of your Krake for the back up systems, and the heart of it will be the spare parts of the Sinanju. It's like a sign of the Colonel's faith in you, don't you think?"
It is like that. It is. He should be swelling with pride. He feels acknowledged. The Colonel's faith in him has become the heart of this new machine. Built for -him-.
So why?
"--think that you're the best fit for the new system they've developed to deal with the Unicorn--"
Why does he feel so queasy?
EVERYTHING YOU DO IS FOR NOTHING!
"--Lieutenant Sauper?"
Angelo looks up at what remains of the wreckage of the Krake as its remaining thrusters are disassembled. His fingers clench tighter. His gaze settles into a quiet resignation.
"Tell them I want some modifications made," Angelo requests abruptly. "The bits."
"Oh! Um, yes, of course! What about them?"
"The casings. Give them a curving design."
Why purple? Well, it's because...
"Like rose petals."
I'll show you. It's not for nothing.
No matter what I have to do.
I won't let you reach him...
... Banagher...!!