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Catching Up
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Mar. 28th, 2007 | 01:38 am
Week Five, Friday Morning
Location: Exterior to the Lair
Character: Rüdiger
Reply: Transitional (if anyone wants to jump in, you're welcome to).
<lj-cut text=More times than he'd care to admit over the past few days, Rüdiger wondered if this all hadn't been a mistake.> It was only when he had a rare quiet moment that his enervated brain could piece together thoughts coherently enough to realize that anywhere else he could've been at that point would've been just as bad. When the aid crews had been shuttled out on Tuesday, Rüdiger had already felt the most fatigued he'd ever been in his life. The extra 1/5 gravity hadn't seemed like much at first, but three days of carrying around an extra thirty kilograms, on top of everything else left him feeling like he was hanging from the razor edge of dead.
And that wasn't even touching on what 'everything else' included. He didn't think he would've been able to keep himself from passing out on his feet if he hadn't been able to get away from all the noise in his head. Shortly after the transport had touched down in Jotunheim, he'd learned what real pain meant. Maybe there weren't as many 'awakened' minds as back at base, but the increased concentration of people made for a much more intrusive, aggravating level of noise inside his head. There were times that he wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with it, his stamina too worn to maintain any semblance of the protective sheath around his mind.
There was a worse aspect to it, one that he feared would hit him much more often once the shock and fatigue wore off: it was almost impossible to lie anymore. Never before had he realized how much he relied on falsehood from day to day. He tried never to show that he was upset, never angry, never sad. Those were private things, his things, not to be shared or burdened upon others. 'How are you?' I'm fine. 'Are you okay?' I'm fine. Fine. Good. Okay. No problem. Even if other people weren't able to hear what was in his mind on their own, he wasn't always able to keep his thoughts to himself, his true feelings leaking out. He'd lost his shield, the ability to be able to hide behind a smile and a casual word.
That was why he jumped at the chance when they were sending out individual flyers to get personal confirmations with the out-lying facilities and smaller settlements. A chance to finally get away from the noise and the people and the constant vigilance of his own thoughts. It was peaceful at low altitudes, no minds making nice beside his own, and the limited populations at his destinations were easier to screen out. It was a much less draining environment in which to practice maintaining the integrity of his mental walls, even if several of the check-ins ended up running longer as he was requisitioned to provide aide. He spent most of Thursday at a desalinization plant on the coast, helping repair damage to the pumping systems, and scrubbing out the resultant mildew from the broken pipes.
He'd gotten the recall order from the Lair Thursday afternoon. The rest of Yggdrasil had gotten itself sufficiently back together, and both the base and the mobile suits still needed a lot of work to return them to full functionality. It was early in the morning on Friday when the flyer made its approach to Lair, coming to a stop outside the hangar. He let go of the stick and popped the canopy, climbing out onto the wing. He hadn't had to try and summon his mental wall for a while, and he stood there staring at the base long enough for the crewman who'd shown up with the tug to taxi the flyer in had started making impatient gestures at him. He took a deep breath, and tried to summon up the energy he needed to raise the image of the granite boulder.
Although he didn't know it, that was the moment that Michael awoke. All that Rüdiger knew was that it felt like he'd just caught a shuttle right between the eyes, a voice he didn't recognize ringing inside his head so loud it felt like his skull was about to come apart. He reeled, and when the second voice, equally unfamiliar, but not quite as loud, struck him, consciousness simply winked out, and he slumped forward, his limp body sliding down the smooth surface of the wing and dropping to the ground.
(Sorry for the long silence, but I've been dealing with an insane amount of job drama lately, coupled with I've just jaunted back to the states due to family matters. I have no particular plans for what Rüdiger does after this. If this inspires anyone to make a post, go right ahead, otherwise he'll eventually wake back up, and rejoin the rest of the story.)
Location: Exterior to the Lair
Character: Rüdiger
Reply: Transitional (if anyone wants to jump in, you're welcome to).
<lj-cut text=More times than he'd care to admit over the past few days, Rüdiger wondered if this all hadn't been a mistake.> It was only when he had a rare quiet moment that his enervated brain could piece together thoughts coherently enough to realize that anywhere else he could've been at that point would've been just as bad. When the aid crews had been shuttled out on Tuesday, Rüdiger had already felt the most fatigued he'd ever been in his life. The extra 1/5 gravity hadn't seemed like much at first, but three days of carrying around an extra thirty kilograms, on top of everything else left him feeling like he was hanging from the razor edge of dead.
And that wasn't even touching on what 'everything else' included. He didn't think he would've been able to keep himself from passing out on his feet if he hadn't been able to get away from all the noise in his head. Shortly after the transport had touched down in Jotunheim, he'd learned what real pain meant. Maybe there weren't as many 'awakened' minds as back at base, but the increased concentration of people made for a much more intrusive, aggravating level of noise inside his head. There were times that he wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with it, his stamina too worn to maintain any semblance of the protective sheath around his mind.
There was a worse aspect to it, one that he feared would hit him much more often once the shock and fatigue wore off: it was almost impossible to lie anymore. Never before had he realized how much he relied on falsehood from day to day. He tried never to show that he was upset, never angry, never sad. Those were private things, his things, not to be shared or burdened upon others. 'How are you?' I'm fine. 'Are you okay?' I'm fine. Fine. Good. Okay. No problem. Even if other people weren't able to hear what was in his mind on their own, he wasn't always able to keep his thoughts to himself, his true feelings leaking out. He'd lost his shield, the ability to be able to hide behind a smile and a casual word.
That was why he jumped at the chance when they were sending out individual flyers to get personal confirmations with the out-lying facilities and smaller settlements. A chance to finally get away from the noise and the people and the constant vigilance of his own thoughts. It was peaceful at low altitudes, no minds making nice beside his own, and the limited populations at his destinations were easier to screen out. It was a much less draining environment in which to practice maintaining the integrity of his mental walls, even if several of the check-ins ended up running longer as he was requisitioned to provide aide. He spent most of Thursday at a desalinization plant on the coast, helping repair damage to the pumping systems, and scrubbing out the resultant mildew from the broken pipes.
He'd gotten the recall order from the Lair Thursday afternoon. The rest of Yggdrasil had gotten itself sufficiently back together, and both the base and the mobile suits still needed a lot of work to return them to full functionality. It was early in the morning on Friday when the flyer made its approach to Lair, coming to a stop outside the hangar. He let go of the stick and popped the canopy, climbing out onto the wing. He hadn't had to try and summon his mental wall for a while, and he stood there staring at the base long enough for the crewman who'd shown up with the tug to taxi the flyer in had started making impatient gestures at him. He took a deep breath, and tried to summon up the energy he needed to raise the image of the granite boulder.
Although he didn't know it, that was the moment that Michael awoke. All that Rüdiger knew was that it felt like he'd just caught a shuttle right between the eyes, a voice he didn't recognize ringing inside his head so loud it felt like his skull was about to come apart. He reeled, and when the second voice, equally unfamiliar, but not quite as loud, struck him, consciousness simply winked out, and he slumped forward, his limp body sliding down the smooth surface of the wing and dropping to the ground.
(Sorry for the long silence, but I've been dealing with an insane amount of job drama lately, coupled with I've just jaunted back to the states due to family matters. I have no particular plans for what Rüdiger does after this. If this inspires anyone to make a post, go right ahead, otherwise he'll eventually wake back up, and rejoin the rest of the story.)