the last night.
dusk has fallen, and your nerves are on fire.
you are not looking forward to tomorrow, for whatever reason - perhaps you're in the ending stages of war and the final battle is imminent, perhaps you'll be leaving for an extended period of time, perhaps you're set to go into a risky surgery. whatever's going to happen, it could be the very last night you have, whether it's in this city, in this dimension, in this life. how are you going to spend it? will you say your goodbyes to your loved ones, spend time reminiscing, or just go about your everyday life and try not to think about it?
the choice is yours, but you'd better make it soon. you don't have much time left.
instructions → 1. post with your character. 2. tag others. 3. spend your last night wisely. |
Chuck Hansen | Pacific Rim
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[ omg yes give me his adorable florist. maybe the night before pitfall? or something? ]
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[Whatever is happening ... it's big. Georgia doesn't know the details, and Chuck won't offer any, preferring to use what little time they have together to ignore the world, and the way it seems to be falling apart, and although she's curious and scared, she isn't about to push.
It's not like they're dating, or anything. She's ... some girl he sees when he's got the time. She's ... distraction. She's ... a pleasant way to spend a few hours, or an evening, or even a morning before he's got to concentrate on war.
But she doesn't doubt that whatever is to come is hugely important, because Chuck is not a handsy person by nature, and it seems as though he sort of ... can't stop touching her.
Not that she minds.
Still, she's quiet, listening to the beat of his heart against her ear, squeezing the fingers twined with hers just a little bit tighter. If comfort and contact is what he needs, she can give him that much, at least.]
we're terrible
He wants to stop, for tonight, putting on the facade he puts on every day and try to calm jittery nerves and just...sit here, and simply be.
When he's with her, he doesn't have to be a pilot, doesn't have to be militant and rigid and on point. There's no way she doesn't know who he is, really, but beyond the fact that he's Ranger Hansen, he's divulged literally no details as to his life as such, the PPDC, or Operation: Pitfall.
She doesn't ask, doesn't push - and he doesn't tell. It's easier this way. Better, he thinks.
Georgia's perceptive as fuck though; she has to know something is under his skin when he pulls her into his lap, lets her head rest against his chest and when he laces their fingers together.
He's quiet, eyes closed and breathing even and steady, for all that his mind is a jumble and chaos.
He'd say he missed this when he died, but he won't - he won't even know he's gone. ]
But I love every minute. Also, thank you for killing me with that last line. *weeps*
She far prefers these moments, where she can offer an apartment, distraction, quiet ... anything to help Chuck feel like Chuck, and not Ranger Hansen. Anything to help him feel as though he could have a regular, mundane sort of life. It would be a lie to say that she doesn't want the same - more nights on the couch like this, and the easy comfortable existence with each other that they've eked out.
Even though things aren't easy or comfortable at the moment. Georgia might not know what the morning was going to bring, but she knows enough to be certain that something was on the horizon.
Something big. Something that chuck was worrying about. It's not like they never touch, but he's not the type to crave this sort of comfort, or this sort of contact. As always, though, she doesn't ask, she just gives, easily, and openly, and honestly.
Who knows what the morning would bring? Might as well try to find some sense of happiness tonight. Might as well take a few hours to really live.]
>D no problem that's what i'm here for
It's terrifying, knowing that you're willingly walking into a deathtrap, knowing what's waiting. The worlds gone to shit and there's only a few that can stop it and Chuck's one of those select people that have chosen this fate, knowing damn well what it will bring.
He wonders sometimes if this is enough, it doing all of this will finally be enough for his father to finally fucking accept him as a person, but even now he doubts that, figures that it's just wishful thinking.
So he burrows in against Georgia, takes comfort in someone who doesn't think he's trash, breathes her in, and lets out a shaking sigh. ]
You are the worst, and yet, still my favorite.
This quiet was a bit disconcerting. The way he holds her, as if it might be the very last time they're together like this ... it's frightening. She's got good reason to be scared, even if she doesn't know it yet.
And she is linked inexorably to him - she'll mourn just as deeply as his father, even though she's not family, and even though she won't get official word of his passing when it occurs - she'll find out the same as the general population, when the news reports start coming in. And she'll mourn all the more because of all the missed opportunities she's had, all the moments that she never told him how much she loves him (not loved, never loved, because it would never disappear, not even when she's an old woman, safe and warm in her bed, taking her last breath) nor how much she needs him and these moments that make them both feel ... normal.
She's still mostly silent, although a whisper of his name escapes her lips. Something big is on the horizon, she can feel it, and it doesn't feel good.]
/gleeee
[ The way she quietly whispers his hame gets his attention, but he doesn't know what to say. There's nothing to say, not really. He can't tell her what he's up against, he can't tell her anything about the mission. It's confidential, it's secret - for whatever reason, Chuck thinks that at this point, it hardly matters what people know and what they don't because if they can't stop this, if they can't close the breach thenthe kaiju will come and there will be nothing anyone can do about it except drop nuclear bombs which will kill everyone anyway.
He pulls her closer, presses his face against her skin and breathes her in, makes a memory, one that he can carry with him into battle and cling to when he inevitably dies.
On a whim, he peels himself away, fumbles with his shirt and pulls out his tags, jerks the secondary one hanging from a short ball chain free and hands it to her, pushing it into her hand and closing her fingers over it. ]
Keep it. [ His voice sounds distant even to him, faraway, like he's in another room. ]
*SOBS FOREVER*
But he doesn't relax, she can still feel how tight his body is strung, and she just holds him all the tighter, surprised to be pulled closer, and the vehemence with which he presses his face against her skin, and she's about to finally break and ask what's wrong when he pulls away, and she wonders just what the hell is going on and then -
Then she's got the small silver tag in her hand, and he's telling her to keep it, and that speaks volumes, even if she doesn't know any of the details.]
Oh, God -
after a year and a day
[ He can feel the ball of emotion sitting high in his throat, like he’s about to lose his composure. His voice sticks and he can’t bring himself to speak or do anything but hold her tightly, because at the end of the day they both know what him passing over his dog tags mean.
It means that whatever he’s doing, wherever he’s going – he doesn’t think he’s coming back from it.
And honestly, that had sort of been the plan from the mission – it’s suicide, a total kamikaze mission and they all know that. They’d like to come back, sure and if they can they will, but no one really expects to. ]
I’m sorry.
[ That’s the best he can come up with, the most he can say. ]
Mumford & Sons - I Will Wait.mp3
But no matter how long he had to leave, he always came back. He'd say see you soon, and he'd leave, all swagger and bravado, and even if it was months later, he always came back.
This, though, the simple passing over of his tags to her - he knows that he's not coming back. And Georgia wants to scream and cry and beg him not to go, but what the hell good would that do? It's his job.
This was always a very real possibility.]
Chuck ... no.
<33
He also can't say I'm sorry again because it's so final and he's not good at apologizing anyway. ]
I've -- had fun. With you. This. It's been good for me.
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And so, Georgia holds tight. She holds tight to the tags now resting in the palm of her hand. She tightens the one arm still wrapped around Chuck. As ridiculous as the fleeting hope is, she thinks that if she doesn't let go, he won't have to go, and she'll wake up in the morning, and he'll still be there and this will all have been some horrible nightmare that she'll never have to think about again because everything was going to be okay.
As much as she wants to declare that it still can be, and that she'd wait forever if it meant that he'd come back, she's sure that it would just make this all the sadder.]
Stay with me tonight? All night?
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I--
[ Chuck inhales. He was going to say I can't, because he really needs to be back at the 'Dome to prepare, to get ready mentally for what he has to do but he finds that his time is better spent with Georgia, with the person he cares about. ]
Yeah. Alright.
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It's just ... whatever time they've got left, she wants to spend together, not alone and sobbing into her pillows trying desperately not to think of what might have been.
But he answers in the affirmative, and she breathes out, and barely thinks before she's smothering him with kisses, because what else can she possibly do to show him how much she cares?]