(no subject)

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

As much as he hated to really admit it, Jake was settling in aboard the ship. There was a strange sense of normalcy that followed him around - he was at war, he was trying to avoid getting people killed, he was thinking about strategies, thinking about the future - and that all seemed perfectly normal to him. He had slipped back into the patterns and the habits he'd formed over the War very easily and that bothered him, in some little corner of his mind. But the rest of him? The rest of him was happy he had something to do that he was good at.

He was wary, paranoid again, watching everyone who said they were a friend with a trained suspicion. And sometimes at night, it made him sick to realize that he accepted that as a normal part of everyday life. It was 'late'. Late being relative when there was no way to really gauge what time it was or how much time had passed, so he went wandering to settle his mind. He found his way to a large hall, filled with strange and surreal sculptures and images. It was like a twisted sort of art gallery.

That was exactly what it was, he realized as he slowly drifted through the various pieces of art, staring at pieces that caught his attention. He finally paused to stare at a strange, shifting piece that stood underneath a sculpture of a head. It didn't really look like anything, though. Just inky blackness that seemed to shimmer strangely in the dim lighting.

He was about to turn away, when it finally coalesced into something he recognized. A scene he remembered very well. Probably too well. The bridge of the Pool Ship on that last, horrible day of the war. He was staring at the viewscreen, free hork-bajir and the other Animorphs standing around him. A defeated and weary-looking Visser Three. And on the view-screen, Tom.

That moment when he had condemned his brother and his cousin to death.

But that had all changed here. They were both alive, his brother was free - but that didn't stop the memories. Or the guilt. Or the second-guessing. What if he'd been a bit faster? Or a bit more careful? Or tried a different way?

The scene changed. Now it was the Animorphs locked in combat with Hork-Bajir. And then a Howler. It changed again - the auxiliaries being shot down one after the other by the Pool Ship's dracon beams. Sharks, swimming in an alien sea. Rachel's funeral. The smoking remains of the Yeerk Pool after they'd blown it to smithereens-

He tore himself away.

He shouldn't dwell. He had the present to think about. He flexed his hands and for a moment, he stared down at them. Was this all he was going to be good at for the rest of his life? Planning for war? Fighting war?

Jake shook himself off and turned to walk deeper into the strange gallery. He didn't want to spend anymore time next to this particular piece of artwork.

Comments

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

Zouichi usually didn't visit the art gallery; he didn't have much use for the bizarre, shifting sculptures and there were enough psychics on the ship already, so why bother broadcasting his past for all to see?

Also, meh. Modern art.

However, he was rather absorbed in the Engineering schematics in his hand, so he didn't notice Jake or his surroundings until he was almost on top of him. When he did, he looked up, blinking. "Sorry. I didn't realize there was someone else here."

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Jake paused and stepped out of the way with a polite nod, "That's alright. I was just wandering, anyway."

He didn't particularly feel inclined to share why he was wandering, but he felt the need to make polite conversation anyway. His words sounded strained to him. He'd forgotten what it was like to have a conversation with someone without trying to guess if they were really a Controller or not.

"What brings you up here?"

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

Zouichi spun the datapad he was holding around to show Jake a set of faintly glowing mechanical schematics. "An accident. I was just trying to figure out the specs Lash drew up for repairing a couple of the vehicles in Engineering. Unfortunately, she added lasers. To everything. Which I'm sure the actual owners wouldn't appreciate."

He looked around. "I usually don't come up here unless I have to. The statuary is a little... invasive."

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Lasers. Once upon a time, Jake would've thought those were the coolest things in the world. Then he'd been shot at by them. Seen people get turned into so much glowing vapor. Still, he suppressed a smile.

"Something tells me they wouldn't."

He glanced around at the strange sculptures and paintings with a shrug, "A bit. But it's usually pretty empty. It means I can think."

Jake frowned, "...Sorry, I can't remember if we've met or not. I'm Jake."

Warning for graphic kinda imagery

[so-pregnable.livejournal.com]

Kon noticed Jake--heard his heartbeat, his breathing, but left him alone at first. He'd been wandering through the halls and great cavernous rooms of the ship, a little lost, not sure what exactly he was looking for. It just felt good to move, after his release from the Medbay. Maybe he was running from something that he couldn't get away from--reality. The truth.

Maybe he was trying to escape the mental image of Kal bleeding into the desert sand, burnt and battered nearly beyond recognition.

Maybe he was trying to escape the images of other soldiers that had been splattered across that battlefield below him, trying to forget what it looked like to see a Corpsewalker sucking up the carcasses of people that'd once been alive and chugging them down like a thirsty kid chugging some Yoohoo.

There was a joke he'd told Serling in a letter once, that he'd sent during the war against Imperiex and it echoed in his head right now.

Two grunts are sitting in a foxhole and one soldier turns to his companion and says "War is swell." His partner looks at him shocked and says, "War is swell? Our buddies are all dead, my kneecap is hosting a maggot convention, and what little courage I had is splayed out across five miles of killzone! What are you, sick?"

The the first soldier opens his mouth and points to the shrapnel lodged through his lower jaw and up into his soft palate and sinus, and says, very slowly, "War...isssh. Hell."

Ha ha. Funny funny Kon.

Wasn't funny the first time, wasn't funny now. Never was going to be funny. Stuck in his head, though, like a lot of things were.

The inky statue near him, started out a hopeful, happy image of a younger him flying through the air with Superman, with Supergirl and Krypto with them. How idealistic-looking was that? Flying with their super-dog.

It suddenly changed to Superboy pulling a half-dead soldier out of some wreckage, trying to hold what pieces were left together with his telekinesis. Then it flipped to Young Justice strapped to their tables in Granny Goodness's care, being tortured.

"Have to rub in real good, right Stace? But what else should I expect of the ship that grabbed three Supers and didn't think to grab the damn Kryptonian chrysalis along with us."

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

"I guess it likes hurting people," Jake murmured - he'd come back through the museum and overhearing Kon, had decided he couldn't pass up the chance to share some of his thoughts on these odd sculptures. "Or maybe we're hurting ourselves."

That was a strange thought, but one that he could never quite get around. He thought on his past too much, but he never could find a way to move past it. It was always there, always gnawing at him and making him think about what might-have-been and what-I-should-have-done. He eyed Kon for a moment - there was something vaguely familiar about him, but Jake had never been into comics as much as some of the other kids he'd known in middle school.

The statue in front of them shifted and Jake almost flinched as it coalesced into a familiar scene (for him, anyway). Five kids, all terrifid, staring at a dying alien. And then again. This time the alien was dead, ripped apart of the terrible morph of Visser Three.

"...every time, huh?"

[so-pregnable.livejournal.com]

"Used to be happier pictures if I ever came up here. From those bygone days of carefree youth and all. Hasn't been so much with the happy the last few times I've been back."
 
The species of alien in that one little scene was familiar enough.
 
"You're from Ax's world?" he said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "That alien looked just like his species." 
 
Well, he looked that way before he bit it, at least. Afterwards, he kinda looked like a meaty chili.  

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Carefree youth? Jake had missed that part of his life. Tragic, really. He started slightly as he realized that the other young man had recognized Ax. He turned with a nod and a slight shrug, "Yeah. Ax is a friend of mine. You know him?"

[caringcassie.livejournal.com]

Cassie had been wandering around the art hall herself, trying to take her mind off recent happenings when she spotted Jake. There was something about the look on his face that worried her. It was a look that she'd seen before and it never meant anything good where he was concerned.

She approached quietly, not wanting to startle him. When she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle sounding. "Jake? I didn't expect to see you here."

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

"Cassie?" He sounded a bit surprised. "Didn't expect to run into you here, either."

After an awkward pause, he continued. "I guess I'm just wandering. Trying to clear my head. This whole situation is still really weird."

But the problem was that it seemed normal. Fighting an alien war for the survival of humanity? Oh, yeah. Typical Saturday afternoon.

[caringcassie.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, that's why I'm here too," she responded quietly. She shook her head. "It is weird and every day just seems to get weirder." And sadder. "Do you know that sometimes I still wonder what it would be like to be just a normal kid? I think that I'd like to be ordinary. This..." She motioned to all that was around them, "is definitely not my cup of tea."

The worry never left her eyes as she spoke. She had been turning over the question on how best to approach him without his shutting her out in her mind since they'd begun to speak. She may have spoken about herself, but she had been thinking of him. "You... you look worried, Jake. Are you alright? I'd like to help." She smiled. "You used to be able to talk to me." And he had some at the start, but as the war had progressed he'd become more and more closed off. She suspected that she knew the reason for it given one conversation that they'd had, but she'd never really agreed with him and it grieved her that she'd been unable to prevent him from taking everything on himself. It was a failure for which she wouldn't forgive herself anytime soon.

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Jake laughed. It was a hollow sound. "Being normal means I'd be worrying about my freshman year of college... Not fighting aliens. And a few years ago we would've been sweating the SATs instead of testifying at the Hague at a war crimes tribunal."

He ran a hand through his hair, "Elfangor said he was giving us a gift. A fighting chance. Sometimes I think it was some sort of cruel joke being played on us - because really? Leave the fate of the world to five ordinary kids? But we pulled it off. We won."

There was only a tace of bitterness in his voice. They'd won, but it had cost them. They'd saved the world, but they'd lost their shot at an ordinary life. Hey, a small price to pay for the fate of humanity, right?

That line about "we used to be able to talk" made him drop his shoulders and look away. They'd drifted apart after the war - well, to her, there was no "after the war" yet. He regretted that at times, but he didn't think he could've helped it. Not after what he'd had to do. In a way, maybe he'd been punishing himself.

But he couldn't really keep this to himself. He was supposed to be the leader, he couldn't let them see him fall apart. But if he did fall apart, who was going to pay because of it? Jake finally looked at Cassie again.

"...I'm worried because this stopped feeling weird a day or two after I got out of the pods. I'm worried because I'm actually happy that I have another war to fight. Because this...?"

He gestured at the walls, the ship. "This is all I know how to do know, Cassie. I never even graduated from high school. And maybe I'm relieved that I can do something I'm good at instead of pretending that I can go back to a normal life."

[curiousredsoul]

There were often times when Celena wandered the living areas of the ship during the 'late' hours. She found it easier to think on the many topics that filled her mind after each day. As well as providing for the occasional interesting bit of information from those who chose to stroll about at night as well, for whatever particular purpose they saw fit.

It was such a night that saw her wander near silently into the art gallery, the fact that another occupied the gallery did not escape her attention as she wandered closer, not wishing to disturb them as they stopped before that peculiar inky statue. One that had quite interesting properties. Her sharp gaze being able to easily note just what it showed as the human stood before it. The faces and forms of a number of those in the scenes it showed drew recognition from her mind, Rachel, Marco and Cassie. The one before the statue she surmised was likely another of their group.

Even as she watched on, from the scenes, his posture and actions that he and likely his group as well had been through a good deal. Nevertheless as he turned, Celena stepped forward, dipping her head lightly, "Greetings,"

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Jake started - he hadn't heard Celena, being far too absorbed in watching his own memories flicker in front of his eyes. That bothered him. He composed himself with a nod, "Hey."

Dragons weren't any stranger than Andalites, after all.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

[curiousredsoul]

Jake couldn't be entirely blamed for the lack of notice, after all Celena, despite her size and distinct looks could be quite hard to notice when she chose to be.

"It's fine, I'm sorry if I startled you," She replied with a dip of her head before going on, after all, if he was a part of the group Marco belonged to, he quite likely knew her by name if not form, "I don't believe we've met, I am Celena,"

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

"Celena...? You're that dragon Marco was talking about, right?"

Well, this was new. Oh, yeah. Manners.

"I'm Jake."

[pretty_lethal]

Rachel was trying to kill time, mostly. There wasn't a lot on the ship that she could do between missions, besides keep herself active and ready in every way. But that wasn't really a full time job, not for her. And besides, while most people were still recovering that meant there was even less to do on the ship. Naturally.

She wasn't really one for the art gallery or whatever it was, but it wasn't a big deal. She was just sort of exploring again, killing a little bit of time.

Of course, she'd not really expected to find Jake there.

She couldn't quite see what he was looking at, past him, though she shifted to try and see, out of curiosity if nothing else. "Hey," she said.

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

Jake actually started. He hadn't heard the sound of her voice in years. She'd been gone for so long (well, it had seemed that way to him), that he's almost forgotten what she sounded like. What she looked like. He turned quickly, eyes wide in shock - he knew Rachel was here, of course, but it was totally different speaking to her in person. Just as quickly, he schooled his expression and he actually managed to smile.

"Rachel. It's good to see you."

He shifted slightly, trying to make sure she wouldn't see her own death getting plastered all over the sculpture.

"It's... been a while."

[pretty_lethal]

Rachel frowned a little bit at his reaction to her-- especially him covering up the sculpture, but she wasn't going to push it right now. He was acting suspicious... but she was starting to get used to that from basically the entire rest of the group.

"I guess," Rachel said with a shrug. "I haven't really seen you around much, anyway." Not since he'd come back.

[livestoannoy]

Marco had not been having a good day. He'd gotten out of the mazes to find everyone claiming that his mother had killed Superman and was having a thing with Kang (that last one still made him want to bleach his brain out), and then when he'd actually gone to see her in the brig, he'd found out that she was in there for torturing a hostage. Really, at this point calling it a bad day would be an understatement.

There wasn't any question about who he'd come to see after everything. Jake was his buddy, even if he was three years older than Marco remembered him and uncomfortably distant and drawn into-himself a lot of the time. Although Marco didn't really know why Jake had decided to come here of all places, with that statue. Marco didn't like it; he didn't need anything reaching into his head and putting his memories on display for everyone to see. Especially not now.

"Dude, did you have to decide to mope around here? This place is creepy, man," Marco said as he walked up to Jake, hands shoved into his pockets.

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

"First of all, I'm not moping. Second of all, I'm exploring," Jake replied with a small laugh. Marco was still Marco. A constant. Best friend since they wre babies. You know how it goes.

"Although I'm not sure I'm going to come back to this museum. Too post-modern," Jake tried to crack a joke. Probably a bad one, but it was something to take the edge off. After a moment of silence, he added, "How're you doing? Did you find out about your mom?"

[livestoannoy]

"Right, you're not moping, and Ax has decided he doesn't really like cinnamon buns," Marco said, snorting. Then he fell silent for a moment.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I did."

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

Hiccup only rarely ventured into the art hall. Usually when he needed time to think, and after that battle, he did need time.

Having an aerial view of a battlefield wasn't all it was cracked up to be. In some ways, the distance was a saving grace--he hadn't been able to see many faces on the bodies, and what stayed faceless stayed as something not-quite-a-person in his head. It made it easier to dismiss the grim tableau as some sort of giant field of organic debris.

He still knew, deep down in his heart of hearts, that he'd looked down on the bodies of people, though. And if the Ohm really could feel like some of the crew seemed to think, he and Toothless had killed people, too, even if they were shaped differently.

And then there'd been yet another close call. Another moment of weakness. Did it all even out? Did the heroics make up for the fact that every other fight or mission, he got hurt, needed rescuing. Did the moments he did brave things balance out the moments where he could only let the tides of fate carry him along?

It was a lot to take in, and so he wandered his way through the art hall, just to have somewhere new to walk for once. His automail leg creaked as he walked--after the cold bomb went off during the fight, moisture had gotten into places it shouldn't have. The joints needed to be cleaned and maintained, but Hiccup decided to get to it later.

He needed to think.

But then he spotted Jake and the easy distraction of talking to fellow crewmates kicked in. After all, he was a Councilperson, right?

Hiccup gave him a crooked half-smile and wiggled his fingers in a wave.

"You're a masochist, too, huh?" he said. "I figure anyone that comes here has to be, given walking through here is the equivalent of having your eyes pecked out by angry ravens. Half of this isn't art--not enough knotwork."

[hadabrother.livejournal.com]

"Maybe I am a masochist," Jake replied with a wry little smile, "I keep going back to war."

Which didn't make much sense if you were looking at him. At least not until you noticed his eyes - far, far too old for a young man just reaching adulthood. Jake shook his head and stepped away from the statue after a moment. He didn't need people to see his entire life story. Not here, anyway. He extended his hand to Hiccup with a nod.

"I'm Jake."

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

What a dire pronouncement that was. It made Hiccup's eyebrows raise just slightly.

"Oh, you're the one I spoke to on the comms, right?"

Hiccup held out his hand.

"I'm Hiccup--sometimes Councilperson, sometimes blacksmith, and occasional trainer of dragons."