#Kayo's thoughts

[kewpikayo]

I feel so loved TT0TT I was tagged by the wonderful @minkdelovely @redvexillum and @dewdropdinosaur. I love you guys❤️

This year I will be spending Christmas with family and being grateful for the people and friends I've been able to meet, know and be around this year. Just gonna thank Jesus, count my blessings and be thankful (^///^) I tag: @chefskjssart, @tarokitsu, @jurijyuu, @lumikello24, @ritualofcirice, @primsgirl89 and anyone else who would enjoy doing this hehe. No pressure!!

I couldnt help myself! She is soo cute!

Do this picrew how you would look like this chrismas <3

𝐧𝐩𝐭 : @amiableness , @iamgonnagetyouback , and @lovemenotts + anyone else !

[all-yn-oween]

i had some homework this week so I only have some quick sketches to share

[the-mononoke-facade]

Thinking about Kayo's fear in Umi Bozu again and what it means for her character

How the fear of missing out she rattled off was an idealized version of the general life path that's open to her as a young peasant woman of her time, and that she is probably scared of missing out on that ideal, but not in the sense of not getting married at all, but in the sense of doing that whole song and dance but ending up trapped in a marriage to a terrible man, or giving birth to children who are going to get caught up in the cycles of violence she was abruptly made aware of with the fall of the Sakai clan (either as the one doing the violence or the one suffering under it, or both, creating a monster regardless)

How, if Kayo's meant to be taken as a character with her eyes to the future, that the bakeneko incident shook her certainty in it in a way that she had never had a reason to question before, having her beliefs of being a fairly ordinary person rattled to see what atrocities the "ordinary people" around her helped to commit, atrocities that very well might never have come to light without the divine intervention that was the mononoke and the medicine vendor coming to slay it

Anyway, just contemplating Kayo tonight

[seeminglyseph]

it's so funny to me... looking at video reactions and content about the anime of Erased and realize how many people felt like... idk. cuckolded? by the fact that Kayo did not end up with Satoru in the end, but with Hiromi, the boy who also would have died if the timeline had not been reset.

and like. some of my amusement comes from like... my own ignorance in not realizing that would be a reaction. because like. Obviously. We've been in Satoru's shoes this entire journey and it felt like, especially in the anime, Kayo and Satoru were having these big meaningful moments. like. how could that not be a romance? even though Satoru repeatedly is like 'I am 30, I'm not catching feelings in this situation, what am I doing?'

which I took as like. "Oh, he's inhabiting his little 8 year-old body and also has not had social connection in a long time and is just... having emotions. and Satoru's story is about learning to care and feel again. because adult Satoru had shut down so much due to the trauma of both losing so much in his youth and having the adults around him cope by basically refusing to deal with it and shutting it down. Returning to his childhood before the trauma is reawakening his ability to connect, trust and feel again. Which is something adult Satoru is as confused and unfamiliar with as child Satoru would be with a crush so it reads very similar."

but I also like. ran out of episodes at episode 9, then read the manga, then got like... really really invested in what the story had to say about trauma and the cycles of abuse and silence and well meaning cruelty and convenient victims and patterns of violence and community scapegoats and justice and how people act to preserve face and the justice system and like... the anime picked one thing in the manga to focus on and it was Kayo. and it did that thing like... really really masterfully. it made Kayo's story so heartrending that people forgot almost entirely about everything else. but like. the manga is about like... multiple other subjects of which Kayo features predominantly but like. The character that Satoru is freaking out about having been killed in his flashbacks in the manga is Hiromi, because Hiromi was his friend. It doesn't change the fact that Kayo is very impactful, but the story doesn't revolve entirely around her. So the fact that Hiromi and Kayo found love instead of death, but many anime viewers seem to forget entirely that Hiromi is also a would-be murder victim, is because so much of the non-Kayo story is just... not present or altered.

And even stuff with Kayo because like. She came back after being taken to her grandmother and helped them with the investigation and protection of Aya, the other potential murder victim that goes to a different school.

Honestly sometimes I feel like even people who talk about the anime ending being bad vs the manga ending, miss the parts of the manga that the anime changes. The anime is very excellent for what it is as a stand alone piece, however since it had adapted so much out of the manga to make itself a stand alone piece it didn't give itself an ending that matched what it had created. The anime had devoted itself entirely to the Kayo aspects of the story because they evoked such strong emotions, but the ending... isn't about Kayo. because in the manga, the story wasn't about Kayo. the thing that seems kind of funny to me is, they were stuck with 2 episodes to wrap up a fat chunk of the manga. They were always gonna have to do an anime original ending. They *could* have just gone balls to the wall and gone completely original and played into the fact that they'd been focusing on Kayo the whole time. Not necessarily "waits for him the whole time" but something that puts more focus on her to give more emotional catharsis to the audience. Instead it went with the option no one was happy with and did a limp noodle fast adaptation of the last chunk of the manga with no character development or deduction or planting from the rest of the anime because half the scenes that made any of it make sense got cut.

And now everyone remembers Erased as that great anime with a terrible ending. which sucks because the manga honestly really has a lot to say about a lot of topics. And the anime is artistic and beautiful as hell. but like. the fact that so much of the message is fully not like... either adapted or perceived by audiences or like. Ignored. feels like a sign of something kind of frustrating...

Or I am overthinking big time. That's. I guess a possibility. It might not be that deep, but I think it is. there just might be a level of clumsiness in its execution sometimes, but I think the themes and messages are still there...

[varpusvaras]

Seventeen has always hated waking up after something has happened.

It doesn't matter what it had been. Not if it had been Seventeen getting his bones reset or if he had been in bacta for weeks on end. It doesn't matter. Waking up from anything that has even remotely something to do with his body being unwell in any capacity has always been, and still is, one of the things he really, truly hates.

It always includes feeling heavy, tired and confused. Even if the injury had not been on his head, whatever medicine he had been pumped full would do the trick of making his memory spotty and his thoughts slow. Even if he had been asleep for hours, days or weeks, he would still always feel like he had not rested ever in his entire life. He would always feel weak, his body having seemingly forgotten how to move or how to regulate his temperature, as he would always be trembling and shivering.

He feels all of those now too. The way his eyelids feel too heavy to open in the first place. The way some stray draught makes his entire body feel like it's freezing. The way none of his limbs or even his fingers want to do what he wants them to do. The way his head feels like it has been stuffed full of something soft to insulate any and every cavity there is on the inside of his skull.

The way he has no idea what has even happened.

Still, he forces his eyes to open and to stay open. Seventeen stares at the ceiling and countes to ten. It's not the ceiling of any of the rooms in his house. He countes to twenty. No, it looks a lot like all the ceilings in every single medbay he has ever been in. Safe to assume that he's not home, then.

He counts to thirty, and then forces his head to turn.

Arell is sitting there, right beside the bed Seventeen is laying on. He is sleeping, with his arms crossed and a deep furrow on his face.

Flashes start to come back to Seventeen then, as he watches Arell sleep there on a hard medbay chair. Flashes of the floor. How he had ended up there in the first place. Of his legs just giving up from underneath him. Of how he had been unable to move, unable to get up, because his whole body had turned into one single point of scorching pain.

Flashes of him being peeled off from the floor, of the backseat of the speeder. Of- Seventeen pauses.

Flashes of him thinking why Arell is there, when he shouldn't have been home from work yet. Of his commlink ringing, ringing, ringin and ringing, somewhere that had been unreachable for Seventeen as he had laid on the floor, paralyzed by the pain.

Seventeen stares at Arell, sleeping on the uncomfortable medbay chair, right next to Seventeen's bed, and the thought that Arell had come home after Seventeen had not picked up, just to make sure that he is okay enters his brain like a searing wound.

Something slams against the inside of Seventeen's chest. He isn't sure if it was actually there or if he is just imagining it.

He doesn't have the time to think about it. He is too busy trying to make his sluggish mind to comprehend the thought Arell had come for him, and that for some reason, Seventeen likes that thought.

There's another slam. No, Seventeen is definitely feeling it.

His heart had not slammed itself against his insides even when there had been a lightsaber cutting through his body. Not like this.

Seventeen stares at Arell, sleeping on the uncomfortable medbay chair, right next to Seventeen's bed, and he wonders how the hell he has gotten here.

Seventeen sighs, too tired to put any of his frustrations to it yet.

Damn it.

[gaytwirights]

my dealer: got some straight gas this strain is called "the tailor of enbizaka" you'll be zonked out of your gourd

me: yeah whatever i don't feel shit

5 minutes later: dude i swear i just saw a mermaid swimming in the sea of onigashima

my buddy kiji pacing: sudou kayo is lying to us

[grassbreads]

Put my phone away in another room for the past couple hours in the hopes of getting work done, and I've done a bit, but I also keep getting distracted staring out the window at the snow and writing fanfiction in my head. Help.

[dharmafox]

Here's a scene in "Umi Bozu" that I think about a lot in terms of my previous "Umi Bozu" analysis and specifically in terms of Kayo's symbolic role as an aspect of the Medicine Seller's psyche. I've speculated that Kayo functions as a kind of anchor or synchronizer who connects the Medicine Seller to everyone else - that is, to the rest of humanity and the parts of himself that they represent. I think this scene bears out that analysis: Kayo wakes up and finds no one else around her, and when she locates her shipmates, they're all in the same place - but far apart and completely ignoring each other, and this despite that they're in a weird situation (it's morning, but the sun hasn't risen). They're not discussing it or trying to find answers; they're just... standing there. No one moves, speaks, or comes together until Kayo joins them.

Also interesting here is that the first one to speak to Kayo is Mikuniya, who is standing right next to the Medicine Seller but facing in the opposite direction. As I mentioned in the analysis linked above, the characters "三國" in Mikuniya's name may refer to triloka, the three metaphysical realms of Buddhism. His connection to the ship (possibly a metaphor for the "floating world") also suggests that Mikuniya represents something like "existence in this world." Taken alongside Kayo's name (��世, 加 = "addition," 世="world"), this interaction may imply that Kayo acts as a link between what the Medicine Seller represents (consciousness, awareness, a buddha) and what Mikuniya does, the three realms of existence. That is, Kayo's presence brings the Medicine Seller into contact with this world, without which he would exist alongside it but not connect with it.

(Incidentally, Kayo performs this same function in Ayakashi "Bakeneko," being the one responsible for letting the Medicine Seller into the Sakai house.)

A little while ago I came across this passage in Chögyam Trungpa's The Sanity We Are Born With: A Buddhist Approach to Psychology, and I immediately thought about Kayo:

The first five sense consciousnesses are sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch, and the sixth is yi. Yi is mental sensitivity. It is associated with the heart and is a kind of balancing factor that acts as a switchboard in relation to the other five sense consciousnesses. ...In some sense, it is the most important of all the three aspects of mind. It is not as intelligent in the sense of manipulation as sem. ...The sixth sense is more domestic in function. It just tries to maintain the coordination of experience so that all information comes through efficiently and there is no problem of being out communication with anything that is going on. (The Sanity We Are Born With, pg. 67)

Whether Kayo is intentionally referential to this Buddhist aspect of mind, I don't know, but in this analogy the Medicine Seller also falls nicely under the definition of another aspect, ripka:

On the other hand, ripka, which is the intelligence - the research worker, as it were - in this administration of mind, takes an overall view of one's whole situation. It surveys the relationship between mind and the sixth sense and tries to search out all the possibilities of where things are going wrong, where things might go wrong, where things have gone wrong, how things could be put right. (The Sanity We Are Born With, pg. 67)

Note: These terms are given in Tibetan. I wasn't able to hunt up any Japanese or Sanskrit equivalents.

In any case, the Medicine Seller's capacity to work out what's going on in "Umi Bozu" may be very much dependent on Kayo and her capacity to connect him with everyone else. As the scene above and a number of other scenes imply, if she weren't there, he and the other characters might not notice each other at all.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Currently on my way to our hometown to celebrate All Saints Day and there are a lot of cars on the road... A few goofy ones too bc we had to hit the breaks everytime they drive a little silly 😑

[behemobarisql]

the heavenly yard server highlights because i can post this and i want to

im not exactly sure why we’re like this!!!! also i dont know eho the hell “adi’s ex” is someone just used a random tupper 😭😭

i came up with mask behind the slaughter btw

this was when the server first opened

And now time for my personal fav..

so true nemesis wbwbenlorbjwjeke indeed

[tos1701voy74656tmnt2012-cc]

TAG MBTI

Since I got into MBTI a few months ago, I've been trying to type every single person I know - real or imaginary. There are quite a few people out there like me who like typing TV characters, but there have been very few sources out there that talk about the MBTI of the 2015 Thunderbirds Are Go series. So I thought I'd discuss my thoughts on a few more controversial (main) characters on TAG. Keep in mind that these are just my thoughts, and may not be 100% aligned with the theories. This is all in good fun.

Disclaimer: as Gordon and Alan's types are quite straightforward and widely accepted, I will not be discussing them.

Most commonly accepted types:

Scott: ENTJ/ESTP

Virgil: ISFP

John: INTP

Gordon: ESFP

Alan: ISFJ

The Hood: INTJ

Not confirmed:

Kayo: ISTP/INTJ

Starting off with Scotty. People (myself included) call him the Commander, ie. ENTJ according to the 16 Personalities website. I've done the test myself on his behalf (self-righteous me haha) and the results are quite conclusive: ENTJ. This is quite accurate, given his decisive demeanour in the field which corresponds with dominant Te. That's why I think ESTJ wouldn't be too far off either.

As for ESTP, they're known to be very spontaneous (and frankly, crazy...no offence intended!) The main reason people get this idea is because of certain episodes (High Strung) that suggest Scott was something of a 'thrill junkie' as a younger person. However, the episode also suggests he is not proud of his past and is not like that anymore (or at least tries not to be). So my conclusion is that he has grown into his role as head of IR, which requires an ENTJ personality, while suppressing the extraverted sensing which is dominant in an ESTP.

Next up, Virgil. Virg's known to be the family artist, and ISFPs are the stereotypical artists. In that sense, ISFP is pretty correct - but Virgil doesn't exactly strike me as (and I'm making a big generalisation here) a crybaby. So what are the alternatives? First, I'd agree he's mostly an introvert, though he sometimes does give off a more E energy. Next, I'd say that he could he either intuitive or sensing, and he seems like the kind of guy to come up with a plan at the scene. So I'd go so far as to say he could be an INTP. Conclusion: ISFP/INTP.

Now with Johnny, most people can agree that he's INTP. I once read somewhere that he's INFP, however, which I thought was interesting - INFPs have the stereotype of being ignored all the time, which relates to John's situation of being the guy stuck on the lonely space station and the middle child. But it doesn't feel as if he has dominant Fi, so I agree with the opinion that he's INTP. INTPs are stereotypically nerdy, and although John isn't a complete dork, he is shown to be afraid of crowds (and in general, people!) particularly in episodes such as The Man From TB5. So INTP is fair.

Kayo is an interesting case. I have found literally zero consensus on the net on Kayo's MBTI, so I have just gone ahead and typed her as ISTP/INTJ.

Kayo is, how shall we say it, very cool. Even aloof, like an ISTP, the typical lone wolf or cool guy. ISTPs also tend to have good street smarts, being very versatile quick learners. That is what makes them good candidates for being spies, or in Kayo's case, covert ops. She's formidable because of her skills, quick thinking and determination in protecting her ideals (her insisting that IR get involved in the 'bad guy catching business') - dominant Ti.

Some people also think she's an INTJ for obvious reasons. In Legacy, she reveals she has all sorts of contingency plans for Tracy Island, and even her uncle, the great mastermind, fell into her trap. That sort of scheming is very INTJ. It's probably an influence of her having the Hood as her uncle.

You could argue that Kayo is completely INTJ, and I'd say that's possible as well. The reason I've put ISTP is that some of the things she does are a bit too physical and real-world, things that typical INTJs would die from. Of course, she could be an Fi and Se developed INTJ. It depends on how you look at it.

Now finally...our favourite villain, Hoodie Guy. INTJ, the mastermind. No one can deny that the Hood is the ultimate criminal mastermind, with his scheming plots and evil smirk (!) However, there are some qualities he has that aren't exactly INTJ, which is why I'd argue that he's an INTJ/ENTJ hybrid.

First, he's very impatient. We see this in a lot of episodes, and in Signals Part 2 he even admits he was short-sighted (and therefore impatient) to have tried to commandeer a Thunderbird. That's quite unlike an INTJ, who must be patient in waiting for their plots to unfold over time. The Hood is almost too rash to be an INTJ.

Secondly, INTJs are known for being cold and calculated, and although the Hood is that, he's also very personal. And by personal I mean he gets very hung up on personal vendettas, namely the one against Jeff Tracy. INTJs don't usually put the focus on people - unless the person is merely an obstacle in the way of them getting what they want. They do not act on impulse - dominant Ni ensures that. ENTJs, however, can be 'personal'. They have vendettas, and they will use dominant Te to act even if it's not exactly wise.

Finally, he's too famous. INTJs do not thrust themselves into the spotlight as the Hood did even in the first episode - that is way too not subtle for INTJs, who work from the shadows and get what they want without anyone being the wiser. ENTJs, on the other hand, are known and feared by the world. Sound familiar?

Of course, the many cliffhangers we get informing us the Hood has gotten exactly what he planned tells us he's still an INTJ - but not entirely. Things like personality typing are never black and white, and no one is completely 100% one type or another.

[rinofwater]

Brain says expand on the Umi Bozu crew and indulge in all the ridiculous dymanics that can come with it

Would make a great fanfic, brain says

Brain does not tell me how to do this, just that the vibes would be impeccable

Thank you brain, this is very helpful, I now get to sit here mad about it, appreciate it very much

[gumnut-logic]

Gordon (Part 1)

“Virgil! Come home, please!”

The voice that pleaded over his comms obviously didn’t know what it was asking. “No! I will not give up. He’s here, somewhere.”

“You’ve been out there for hours. You’re tired, I can’t...please come home before I have to declare you missing as well.”

“John, if I don’t find him now, I never will. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean it.”

“I know, but it is irrelevant now. How are you going to find him? He could be anywhere and anything.”

“I’ll find him. I’ll know him.”

“How?”

“I just will.”

The wind up high was blustery and John was right, he was tired. His pinions ached and his bare chest and legs were cold in the late afternoon wind. Perhaps he should have launched his ‘bird, but he knew he had to do this manually, knew he had to reach out without the interference of the roar of engines and artificial flight. He had to listen. He had to feel.

And goddamnit, he had to find his brother.

Endless miles of ocean stretched out before him. He had been flying methodically, his jet black wings beating efficiently to conserve energy, spiralling out from Tracy Island. So much ocean and so little sign of Gordon.

It had been a stupid argument over nothing, but things had been said that should never have been said on both sides. Gordon had stormed off, throwing himself off the cliff in front of the villa. This was nothing out of the ordinary, the man was literally a fish, but he hadn’t come back.

He had been gone for hours, and Virgil had been searching for hours more.

“Virgil...”

John voice was pure pleading worry.

“I’m sorry, John.” He followed the words with an impression of love and apology.

The sense that was his brother wilted, resignation floating on the air currents. “Please be safe.”

“Will do my best.”

Scott and Alan were on the other side of the moon attempting to save a freighter from colliding with that same orbiting body. Virgil had no doubt that John, currently grounded on Tracy Island with a broken ankle, had been keeping his brothers updated on Virgil and Gordon’s antics. He also had absolutely no doubt that if he didn’t return soon, John would call in Kayo to rip him out of the sky with Shadow.

He stretched the aching muscles across his chest and shoulders, his whole eight metre span flexing as he let himself drop a few metres in exchange for a little relief. A warm updraft curled around his bare chest, tantalising his senses, and he couldn’t help but reach for it, pinions arching up and forcing him into the welcoming air current. It caught his wings and he lifted

A sigh passed his lips as he banked, his flight path calculated to efficiency, taking full advantage of the sudden warm boon.

Golden tipped waves stretched to the horizon with no sign of his beloved younger brother to be seen.

Gordon, where the hell are you?

For a moment Virgil closed his eyes. Perhaps if he searched with something other than his sight? Evening light played across his eyelids.

Gordon?

Please, Gordon?

Since the day Gordon was born, Virgil had been aware of his brother. The rapscallion little boy, mischievous little brat and water baby had been on the second eldest’s mind from day one. Virgil had never told anyone that he had ‘heard’ his little brother’s surprise and alarm at being born. Virgil had been asleep and really too young to understand what had woken him up. It wasn’t until many years later that he realised exactly what he had felt.

When he finally met his little brother, there was that same sense he had with John, but different. Little Gordon had been screaming his lungs out in his father’s arms. Virgil had clambered up on to the bed beside his parents and reached for his brother’s hand. The moment they touched, Gordon stilled, his fingers wrapping around Virgil’s and there was that sense, that familiar warmth.

It was that sense Virgil was looking for now.

Out here, somewhere in the blue was his odd little brother, the one who had fins instead of wings.

The boys’ marks had become apparent early in their lives. The trait came direct from their mother. Memories of being wrapped in the white down of her wings were cherished by all of them. They were also the reason why the family lived on a hidden island far away from prying eyes.

Jeff Tracy was many things, but he did not have a mark. Despite this, the trait bred true in all five sons. With the exception of Gordon.

Gordon’s mark was different from his brothers and from early on it had been thought that perhaps he wouldn’t be able to lift. There was concern Gordon would be left behind, that he wouldn’t feel the wonders of wind beneath flight feathers, that he wouldn’t be able to fly beside his brothers.

It wasn’t long before the true nature of his little brother’s mark surfaced.

Perhaps it was ironic that it had been a stranger, another little boy who forced the issue. A rip on an open beach while the Tracys were visiting on business. The chance that both Gordon and Virgil were on the beach at that very moment.

People screaming for help, Virgil’s little brother the expert swimmer already earning medals in the pool hadn’t hesitated, diving into the surf to save the little boy.

Halfway out, Gordon disappeared. Virgil, a much slower swimmer despite his strength didn’t notice at first, except perhaps a flicker of surprise amongst the adrenalin pumping through his veins, but the little boy soon had his hands wrapped around the dorsal fin of a dolphin, surfing towards shore.

Gordon was nowhere to be seen.

Virgil had panicked, but then the boy was being lifted from the shallows by the sun tanned limbs of his brother. Virgil was dumped by a stray wave as Gordon turned around, his eyes searching for him.

The elder brother made for shore and Gordon met him in thigh deep water, eyes dark with something. Virgil sensed shock, but there was wonder and amazement and that night the two of them had a very long talk.

Now Virgil was often the one waiting on the shore for Gordon to return. Their brothers grew to accept Gordon’s ability quite readily, though Scott, being Scott, worried more than all of them combined. And Virgil understood why.

Because Gordon was alone. None of them could follow him and one day he just simply might not come back.

God, please, let it not be today.

He banked towards the north, following his ever-widening search pattern. He fought the urge to yell his brother’s name, knowing it would be useless from this height or any height really. But he did try to call to him. They had never been able to speak to each other telepathically, but there was that sense. They could feel each other and it had helped in the past, and please let it help now.

Please.

The wind shifted slightly and Virgil fell into a spot of turbulence. Normally it would have been nothing. He would have bounced off it and skimmed across the top, but he was very tired and it snagged him, wrenching him around, breaking his beat and tangling his flight. He lost some of his momentum and fell.

He didn’t fall far. He was an experienced flyer, but he had to work his flight muscles hard to stabilise and, god, it hurt.

John was right, he had been out here too long.

Goddamnit.

Gordon, where are you?

Come back.

He closed his eyes again, desperate to find that connection.

And was blindsided by sudden terror.

Virgil stumbled mid-flight and lost even more height. As his wings struggled to regain pace, his mind darted about, desperate to find the source of the fear.

Gordon. It was definitely Gordon.

Direction? Direction?

He abandoned thought and simply flew. He swooped low to the water, skimming just above the waves, a manoeuvre that would have had Scott tearing him a new one if he caught him. The smallest error would see him catching a pinion on an errant wave. The result would be nasty. But Gordon, Gordon was here somewhere.

And there. Gordon was there. He couldn’t see him, but he was there.

Virgil back-winged, his massive span stirring up enough wind to disturb the water beneath him. A single stroke to push himself higher into the air, and he dove, folding his aching pinions and letting them go, feathers dissolving into his mark just as he hit the water.

Muffled silence enveloped him.

The sun was still at an angle to light the depths, though it was slowly fading. The yellow of the late afternoon shifted the water towards emerald. Virgil dove through the liquid beryl, bubbles of air refracting the light into shades of turquoise and aquamarine. Far below, in the shadows, was a shape.

Virgil’s shoulder muscles worked hard, pushing him deeper and deeper.

As he drew closer, the shape became that of a large squid. Far bigger than Virgil, tentacles stretching off into the distance, as alien as any cephalopod could be.

Yet undeniably Gordon.

Virgil’s lungs were already burning. He could swim, but he was no natural in the water. Not like his little brother. But he had to reach. He had to touch...

His fingers brushed across soft skin.

He had to return to the surface.

With as strong a kick as he could give, he pushed himself back up towards the light, climbing as his lungs burned until he burst through waves to gasp in the air he desperately needed.

“John, I’ve found him.”

“You have? Where?”

“Can you locate me? About fifteen to twenty metres below.”

“You’re over hundred kilometres out!”

Virgil spat water. “Am I?” A blink. “Something happened. Did you feel it?”

“Something...?”

A sigh. John was never comfortable with sensing his brothers. Virgil could feel his consternation from here. It wasn’t fear or dislike, more a wariness as if he hadn’t quite accepted that others could sense how he felt. Virgil thought it quite baffling considering his brother was a communication specialist.

“I need to get down to him again. Report momentarily.”

Several deep breaths and Virgil dove beneath the waves.

A more considered descent this time saw him reach his brother with more time to spare. He hovered beside the huge squid. In the distance a cloud of ink was dissipating.

What the hell happened?

He brushed his fingers across soft inhuman skin. Chromatophores lit and followed his touch, before he, again, had to climb for air.

He burst through the surface, gulped, over-oxygenated his system and dove yet again.

Gordon had slipped closer to the surface, but he was still quite a distance down. Considering his form, it was highly likely he wasn’t supposed to be this shallow in any case.

A giant eye was staring at him.

While Gordon was in form, Virgil could not sense him as clearly. It had something to do with the process, perhaps a change in thought as well as shape? Virgil didn’t know. So, the feel of his brother was unclear, the expression in that patented dark eye somewhat hidden.

Virgil reached for him anyway, placing his bare hand on his brother’s mantle. The colours immediately danced, dots and streaks homing in on his touch, outlining his hand to the point that when he once again had to let go, a hand print was left behind.

It persisted until Virgil could see it no longer, his climb towards the sky imperative.

When he dove again, the squid was gone.

Instant panic was not calmed by the eventual sight of his limp, now humanoid brother drifting in the water column.

If he could breathe water, Virgil would have screamed his brother’s name. As it was, he felt both his brothers flinch at his reaction anyway.

Both.

Virgil was often teased for his massive arms, but he was ever so thankful he had them as stroke after stroke drew him nearer until he was able to wrap those arms around his little brother and drag him towards the surface. He hoped to god he wasn’t deep enough to trigger decompression sickness. He hoped to god he could reach the surface in time.

He burst into the cooling air, gasping in breath and turning to his limp brother, desperate for signs of life.

Heartbeat. Slow but regular.

A moment of worried breathlessness before Gordon gasped as much as Virgil had and rolled in his grasp, spitting out seawater.

“Vir-gil?” Half-lidded brown eyes looked up at him as the swell rolled them in its embrace.

“Gordon, what happened?”

His brother blinked slowly, his eyelids clinging shut for a moment. “Argu-ment wi’ a whale.” Those eyes slipped closed again and Virgil had to clutch him tighter to stop his brother from slipping back under the surface.

A quick investigation of Gordon’s body found bleeding teethmarks in his side.

“John! I need Kayo. Now.”

“Already on her way.”

Predictable, thankfully.

Leaning back, there was little he could do for his brother other than support him. He managed some pressure to help with the bleeding, but the cool water was helping a little.

Gordon’s skin was cold.

The swell rose and dipped, lulling. With only the sound of wet lapping and no sight other than sea and sky, the ocean had never felt so vast. Virgil had never felt so small.

But he had his brother in his arms. His fish brother, who loved the water with his very soul. Virgil clung to him.

He kept them afloat with the occasional kick, but stayed as still as possible, because despite not having the marine knowledge that Gordon possessed, he knew what blood in the water meant. It could have been minutes, probably was, but time was warped by circumstance. In any case, it wasn’t long before the first shadow beneath the surface was outlined by the sinking sun.

“Kay? You out there?”

“Ten minutes, Virgil.” She had been on assignment, after all.

“Any chance of making it less?”

There must have been something in his voice. “I’ll do my best.”

“Please.”

Another dark shape joined the first.

Virgil had a healthy respect for the sea and its inhabitants. He knew enough to know not to mess with most of them. Particularly the ones with teeth.

His options were few. Getting lift this low in the water was pretty much impossible much less while dragging his brother. He could put up a good fight, he had feet and muscle, and living with Gordon had let a few important shark facts lodge in his brain. But ultimately, they were both very vulnerable and their only real hope was Kay.

C’mon, love.

A third dark shape had joined the circling by the time Thunderbird Shadow appeared on the horizon. One shark of unknown variety dared to swoop in and Virgil had to nudge it off with a good foot in the face.

His heartrate was unlikely to recover any time soon.

Gordon continued to lie slack in his embrace.

TBS came to a hover above them, and her engines frightened off their spectators. Virgil drew an uneven breath as his girlfriend inflated the floats on her ‘bird’s grappling claws enabling her to lower to a soft landing on the surface of the ocean.

Silence for a split second and Kay was climbing out of her cockpit and down onto the floats. Virgil made an awkward attempt to propel himself and Gordon towards her Thunderbird.

A line landed with a splat in the water beside him.

He grabbed it and clung.

Kay drew them both to her side.

“Thanks.” His voice was breathless.

Kay was all business. “Status?”

“He’s injured. Puncture wounds on his left side. Consciousness intermittent.” Virgil slipped under a moment as Gordon’s weight was taken from his arms, Kay hauling him up onto the float. He fumbled for a moment, limbs stiff, before his arm was grabbed, pulling him to the surface. Another fumble and he grabbed the float himself.

“Thanks.”

“Your status?”

Okay, her tone said everything. She was pissed. Probably scared-pissed, but pissed nonetheless.

“Tired, but functional.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement, continuing to attend to Gordon, medpack in hand.

So pissed.

The floats were wide enough to support all of them and the moment she had Gordon secure, she reached down and helped Virgil out of the water. He flopped into a sitting position against a landing strut while Kay lowered the cockpit between the floats.

Shadow could only carry two, including her pilot.

They didn’t need to speak, which was probably just as well. Kay’s expression was enough to rip the skin off his face. Together they manhandled Gordon into the backseat and secured him.

“You fly him home. I’ll wait here.” Her voice was firm.

“No.” Visions of those shapes in the water came to the fore. “I’m fine. I’ll fly myself.”

“Virgil-“

“Kay, he needs to get home fast. I’m not leaving you out here alone in the dark.” Because yes, the sun was dipping and the waves were becoming little more than silhouettes. “I can lift and will meet you there.”

“It is over a hundred kilometres, Virgil! Equally in the dark!”

“Not the first time, unlikely the last.” And equally unpleasant. “You can always meet me halfway. In any case, no time for argument.”  A brush of his lips against hers and he was clambering up Shadow’s landing strut, leaping onto her wing.

“Virgil!”

As he turned to look at her, he lifted, his feathers sprouting like shadows. He swallowed a groan as his painful pinions spread. This was going to hurt.

He forced a smile. “Race you home.”

Jump, step, leap and he was in the air, wings clawing upwards in great aching strokes. He was going to pay for this tomorrow, but there was no way he was leaving Kay out here by herself.

He made note of the sounds behind him as Shadow retracted her cockpit and fired her engines.

Okay, so perhaps he was going to pay for this in more ways than one, but as Shadow shot past him, he returned his focus to flying, making a beeline for that sense of John, Gordon and the island he called home.

-o-o-o-

Next

[bluewaterhigh2005]

seated for this stupid ass isles devils game but probably i will just boo my friends the isles all morning because a lack of enrichment (no olly wally) makes me cranky and mean. i would kill lou with hammers

[piarles]

incredibly proud how my friend group is going ✈️international✈️ this year like friend A is going to spain this october as ateneo’s auxiliar while friend B is going to japan and i am going to sokor this month as exchange students for up diliman

[shanace]

i love you Mami