#general vanessa kimball
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scribbleboxfox · 1 month ago
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The Long Road Home has updated!
[LINK TO CHAPTER]
Fic info below the cut.
Chapters: 73/?
Fandom:Red vs. Blue
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Vanessa Kimball, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Katie Jensen/Charles Palomo, Siris / Megan, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington
Characters: Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), Agent Carolina (Red vs. Blue), Dick Simmons, Sarge (Red vs. Blue), Franklin Delano Donut, Lopez (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif, Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Lavernius Tucker, Michael J. Caboose, All the other AI’s, Vanessa Kimball, Epsilon, Donald Doyle, John Elizabeth Andersmith, Katie Jensen, Antoine Bitters, Charles Palomo, Matthews, Emily Grey, Original Characters, Felix | Isaac Gates, Locus | Samuel Ortez, Siris | Mason Wu, Megan Wu, Four Seven Niner, Malcolm Hargove, Kaikaina Grif | Sister
Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, PTSD, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Panic Attacks, Frisbee Murder (don’t ask), Attempted Murder, Space Battles, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Platonic Slow-Burn, Mental Instability, Flashbacks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Platonic Relationships, Russian Roulette, Creepy-Ass Villains, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, Redemption, So Many Space Dads, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Torture, Found Family, i take the canon and i put it in a box, and then i put that box into another box, then i mail it to myself, and when it arrives, i SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER, Canon Divergence, post s13
Summary: With The Staff of Charon a smoking-yet-functional speck on the horizon, and the threat of an active weapons system on one of Chorus’ moons, the fight is far from over.  While Locus is no longer a threat, another one of Hargrove’s former lackeys waits for the Reds and Blues as they race to stop the weapons system from coming online. Does she really want to help them? Or is she hiding a more sinister motive? And why is she so interested in Locus?!
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sarahinara · 2 years ago
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when you kill kimball, go ahead and do it quick...
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hipstersoulgushers · 1 year ago
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civvie clothes kimball doodle
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sharkface-daydreams · 3 months ago
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make a poll of your favourite female characters (no limits - as many or as little as you want) and see which your followers like the most!!!
wasn't tagged but encouraging anyone who wants to, make a poll of your own favorite ladies! this was fun to think about. now im off to make a star rail one ^^
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perpetualxfire · 1 month ago
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About the Muse
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Legal Name: Katelyn May Church Nicknames: Carolina, Kate, Katie May Date of Birth: May 16th, 2522 Gender: Cis Female Place of Birth: You know I'm still not sure? Usually Raleigh, North Carolina (or the 'modern' equivalent of the region in this universe) Currently Living: Iris, a livable moon orbiting the planet Chorus
Spoken Languages
English
French (At a very moderate skill level, not fluent, but can hold a conversation and communicate key concepts)
ASL (or in-universe equivalent; a little rusty, but decently fluent in, like, a hearing person kinda way; my HOH people who sign know what I mean lol;; also, for the record, this is a self roast- I'm trying guys)
Education
Dual Degree; BS in Applied Physics and BFA in Dance (Yes, this was a colossal pain in the ass)
ROTC Training during college
Did NOT go to Officer Training School; Halo lore in this particular area seems to make it difficult to compare modern infrastructure for early military careers with in-universe infrastructure, so, lacking more thorough explanation in this subject, elected to follow research into an education/career path that is feasible now, today, IRL, instead of mentioned/implied/listed alterations in universe.
Physical Characteristics
Hair Color: Red; Somewhere between Deep Red and Auburn. Eye Color: Vivid Green Miscellaneous: 'Beauty Mark' along jaw line near right corner of lip. Height: Safest Bet: 5'10 Frustratingly Verse and Writing Partner Dependent. My Default: 6'3" Weight: See above- Depends on Height. Well muscled, but lean.
Relationships
All Relationships Listed as of Last Known Point in the Timeline
Epsilon ("Brother", Partner in Crime, Confidant)
Agent Washington (Similar to Epsilon; Brother-like relationship)
Reds and Blues (Friends..? Hard to put to words)
Doctor Emily Gray (Notably Respected - not an easy status to earn. Never spell her name the same way twice in a row because you gotta keep 'em guessing.)
General Vanessa Kimball (Well Respected; in my mind, there's a HARD unrequited crush with an ace woman, but, you know, that's just shipping)
Director Leonard Church (Deceased; Male Parental Unit; It's Complicated)
Allison "Finch" (Deceased; Last name head canon (changing your name SUCKS ASS); Female Parental Unit; Died in 2528; Only Listed due to relevancy to Tex)
Agent Texas (Deceased; 'It's Complicated' aka I never actually watched the 'Final Season' because I haven't had the emotional energy and I know it's relevant thanks to the synopses I've been working off of but not specifically how because I also want to have SOMETHING to watch when I finally get to it)
Agent New York (Deceased; 'The One That Got Away'; Ma'am you barely even KNEW him-)
Other Freelancer Agents (Deceased; Once believed to be good friends and comrades; would rather let those memories stay that way, but regularly has to reconcile these memories with present day reality)
Orientation: I write her Bi as fuck Relationship Status: Single; Emotionally Unavailable to Men, Incapable of Expressing Her Feelings to Women
tagged by: @thestupidmeanone tagging: tbh just do it, dude. I spent like three hours on this double checking my information and reminding myself how much I hate inconsistency lol but it's good to remind yourself of the baseline stuff about your muse from time to time
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krytus · 4 months ago
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its so harrowing being a rvb fan in general but even HARDER being a chorus supremacist im oppressed shut up about the freelancers. i love you vanessa kimball
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razmerry · 2 years ago
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HEYY squad... as a holdover while I get all my various projects back on track I just remembered I did some meme redraws with RvB Trek so here they are in the meantime until I get back to the sheets!!
All of the original photos I got from an “out of context Star Trek” account... but sadly I can’t remember what the name of it was anymore :,)
Characters in order are: Tucker, Wash, Donut, Felix, Kimball, Simmons, Grif, Sarge, and Meta
I still have 5 more photos I planned to redraw so I will do a part 2 whenever I get around to it!
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foccaccia · 7 years ago
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“She’s been having bad dreams... about the bad guy.”
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scribbleboxfox · 8 months ago
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The Long Road Home has updated!
[LINK TO CHAPTER]
Fic info below the cut.
Chapters: 71/?
Fandom:Red vs. Blue
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Vanessa Kimball, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Katie Jensen/Charles Palomo, Siris / Megan, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington
Characters: Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), Agent Carolina (Red vs. Blue), Dick Simmons, Sarge (Red vs. Blue), Franklin Delano Donut, Lopez (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif, Frank “Doc” DuFresne, Lavernius Tucker, Michael J. Caboose, All the other AI’s, Vanessa Kimball, Epsilon, Donald Doyle, John Elizabeth Andersmith, Katie Jensen, Antoine Bitters, Charles Palomo, Matthews, Emily Grey, Original Characters, Felix | Isaac Gates, Locus | Samuel Ortez, Siris | Mason Wu, Megan Wu, Four Seven Niner, Malcolm Hargove, Kaikaina Grif | Sister
Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, PTSD, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Panic Attacks, Frisbee Murder (don’t ask), Attempted Murder, Space Battles, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Platonic Slow-Burn, Mental Instability, Flashbacks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Platonic Relationships, Russian Roulette, Creepy-Ass Villains, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, Redemption, So Many Space Dads, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Torture, Found Family, i take the canon and i put it in a box, and then i put that box into another box, then i mail it to myself, and when it arrives, i SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER, Canon Divergence, post s13
Summary: With The Staff of Charon a smoking-yet-functional speck on the horizon, and the threat of an active weapons system on one of Chorus’ moons, the fight is far from over.  While Locus is no longer a threat, another one of Hargrove’s former lackeys waits for the Reds and Blues as they race to stop the weapons system from coming online. Does she really want to help them? Or is she hiding a more sinister motive? And why is she so interested in Locus?!
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yeets-you-out-the · 4 years ago
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STOP RIGHT THERE
stop scrolllin
This is important
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Donald Doylebug and Vanessa Kimbeetle :)
Ok ur free to go now
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artsilon · 4 years ago
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All rebellions start somewhere. This one was born on wings and determination, the sheer force of will of six who had everything taken from them. Martyrs to the cause. They will be remembered.
This was done for @fanvsfic and their Fill in the Blanks event! This one’s a few days late; it’s for the ‘Missing Backstory’ prompt.
...This took eight hours straight to do. Save Me.
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facethroughthemirror · 5 years ago
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A Little Less Dramatic
[ hey @fanvsfic I’m late to lunch with my mom and grandma so I can post this today enjoy it ]
Crossposted on ao3
Relationships: Donald Doyle/Emily Grey, Vanessa Kimball/Agent Carolina Additional tags: Suicide, Doyle Lives au
Over an hour after landing at what the rebels have termed “Crash Site Bravo” finds General Doyle still in the back of the pelican, perched on a bank of seats with his unarmored head in his gloved hands. The ache from where he’d hit it in the fall caused by the transport being jolted by the explosion has subsided, but the throbbing in his ankle. He can’t bring himself to look down at the discarded helmet at his feet, or at any of the plate armor he’s wearing. Not yet.
It’s war , he tells himself quietly. These things happen. Not everyone makes it back. He’s seen it happen countless times, hundreds of soldiers whose names he had never known slain on the battlefield, scientists and medical staff massacred by Charon’s mercenaries, each and every leader of the Federal Army before him either evacuated or dead, including the man he’d worked for most of his adult life before the... abrupt promotion. Good god, he stopped keeping track of names years ago. There were too many of them after a while to even keep track of. He doesn’t even know how many of them had died for nothing but the benefit of a businessman somewhere beyond Chorus’ skies, sacrificed for someone else’s gain.
And as much as it pains him, he can’t help but resign himself to the thought that maybe Armonia had been just another one of those sacrifices. That everything -- every one -- that Chorus had lost was for nothing. That it wouldn’t matter in the end.
No one’s been by to check on him. He assumes it simply to be due to no one noticing that he’s gone, though he finds it just a bit more comforting to think that it’s perhaps out of a kind of respect, or even more likely out of a somewhat mutual depression. Though he suspects that it’s entirely to do with the loss of Armonia, and not at all with the loss of...
“Oh dear…”
“What is it?”
“Are you ready?”
“... I’m afraid I won’t be joining you after all!”
“... What?”
“... there’s no longer a way to overload the reactor from the control panel with enough time to leave. But, I can still trigger an explosion! I’ll just have to do it manually!”
“... manually?! No, you don’t, just--just stay low, we can come to you.”
“I’m afraid that just won’t be possible! I appear to be surrounded, and there’s just no time for anyone else to get down here without tipping off Charon that something’s not right!”
Emily was a doctor . A non-combatant. He knows she can likely count the number of times she’s fired a gun on one hand, maybe both of her hands, and her standard-issue sidearm (that came with being an officer and as strongly as Emily objected to carrying one, there just wasn’t anything either of them could do about that) was in such a pitiful state of disrepair that it was hardly safe to use -- she’d had plans to convert it into a tranquilizer gun, he’d discovered. She should have never been down there in the first place. She should have left Armonia with her staff and patients, long before she could have ever even had the chance to suggest this. He should have told her to leave the city, she would have listened -- need to keep up appearances, after all, she wouldn’t have blatantly protested or outright disregarded an order where the others could have seen her do so.
The whole thing had been her idea, once they’d realized that Charon would leave the city if they knew that he had. She’d been trying to buy them time, she’d been meant to lead the mercenaries around, lose them, and then overload the reactor controls and slip out of the city before the reactor blew. They’d switched plate armor, so that she’d be able to not only catch the pirates’ eyes, but pass as him from a distance, while moving quickly through the city. She was several inches shorter than him, and was noticeably slighter, so it wouldn’t be enough to fool someone up close, or to trick Locus if she crossed paths with him, but it would buy them the time they needed. She would keep the mercenaries distracted, lead them in circles. They’d switched her hardlight shield into his armor, it ran better and covered a larger area, standard issue for Federal medical personnel in order to shield patients in the field, and he’d given her his better-maintained sidearm, so that she’d have a fighting chance should she be cornered.
It feels… almost unreal. He… still can’t believe it. It had all been going according to plan, but then…
“Emily -- Y-You can’t--!”
“I’m sorry, General Doyle! I know it isn’t perfect. Oh... there we are. The timer on this detonator barely lasts a minute. You need to get out of the city while you still can!”
Kimball throws her weapon to the floor of the Pelican as she speaks, shouting now, even though the other general knows it won’t do any good. “Damn it, Grey! Don’t--”
“Chorus needs you both. When this war ends, they’ll need skilled leaders more than they’ll need another doctor. You’re no good to Chorus dead!”
He just stands in quiet shock, gripping hard on a grab bar close to the bay doors as he hears that cheerful voice on the other end of the line, so matter-of-factly explaining, rationalizing, her situation as if it was a simple lab experiment. He can hear Kimball shouting over the radio, but a private message over his own comm. line drowns her out.
“... I’m so sorry. If there were any other way…” He hears her breath hitch, hears her voice shake. And it breaks his heart to know that there’s nothing he can do. “... look in my left-side storage pocket. I left you something just in case. I love you.”
He doesn’t have time to answer her, doesn’t have time to tell her that he loves her, doesn’t have time to say goodbye or anything else: there’s a deafening roar of an explosion, one that shakes the transport. But he isn’t sure if it’s the impact or the grief that snatches his knees out from under him and sends him crashing to the floor .
Emily’s “just in case” had turned out to be the very same things Locus had brought him after the massacre at her outpost, just about. Except, she’s left him both of her identification tags, with her ring neatly dropped onto the ball chain and hanging beside them.
“… Doyle?” a voice asks from somewhere outside his vision. He tucks the tags back into the pocket from whence they’d come: he doesn’t want anyone to see them. “… oh, you’re still in here.”
Tired blue eyes crack open finally at the sound of someone calling him, catching sight of the helmet at his feet. He closes them against the tears as they start again, and he swallows. He knows that voice. He knows precisely who’s speaking to him, and he also knows full well that he can’t exactly ignore the speaker. But he just can’t bring himself to look up. It takes a great deal of effort simply to speak aloud.
“... unfortunately.” His unconscious choice of words spikes emotion in his chest, but he swallows it, shuts his eyes against it. He can… he can deal with that later. “... do… do you... er… do you need me for something?”
Vanessa is quiet, the silence heavy in the air between them. For that long moment, he’s sure she’s about to begin shouting, telling him that of course she needs him for something. But she never does. Instead, her response is quiet. Almost… concerned. “... It can… wait.”
“... ah… are… erm… are-are you certain?”
“... yes.” Her footsteps approach his position slowly. Carefully. Once she stops walking, he hears the sound of a helmet seal breaking, and feels her sit down next to him. When she doesn’t say anything further, he finally forces himself to open his eyes again, to turn his head and look at her. Vanessa’s face, so young still but aged prematurely around the eyes by the stresses and horrors of war, is normally tired and sort of angry-looking, or at least, it has been the few times he’s seen it. And she still looks tired now, but… the anger is gone. Her curly hair is coming out of the hurried little bundle she appears to have put it into to keep it out of her face. He can see the very badly-faded lock of what was once ice-blue hair that hangs somewhere in the middle of the right side of her head, it’s come out of the bundle completely and is hanging down away from the other fugitive tendrils.
“... Sarge told me you two seemed close,” she finally says.
“... closer than he knows, I believe. I… spent quite a lot of time in her medical bay, after all, quite, er… quite prone to fainting spells. We… got to be… yes, quite… quite close.” He swallows. “... I shouldn’t have let her go. She never should have been out there, she… she should have left with her patients.”
“... you heard her on the radio. I… really don’t think you could have said anything to stop her.”
“You’re… entirely right. Emily is… w-was … a very willful individual. One of the many things in my life I had absolutely no control over. But that… always seemed to work in my favor. If I’d managed to find my spine for two minutes maybe I could’ve… talked some sense in her…”
Kimball’s hand settles on his wrist, and he pulls his hand away. As a reflex, he stands, shaking his head wordlessly, intending to physically move away from her -- from the conversation. He doesn’t get far on trembling knees and his sprained ankle, though, and winds up crumpled on the floor of the pelican about three feet closer to the bay door than he’d started. And it’s there that he stays.
Good god, he’s pathetic.
Kimball’s beside him in a moment, but doesn’t move to touch him yet, just stands beside him and waits for his next move. When he doesn’t make one, she takes a knee beside him. He finally manages to look up, face lined with years of worry and etched deeper with fresh sadness, eyes tired and empty and heartbroken, brimming with restrained tears. He can’t manage to say anything yet -- just stares. Stares, then turns his eyes almost sheepishly to the floor.
Kimball sighs. “… Look. I… I don’t… I didn’t know Doctor Grey as well as you did. So… I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know what she’d really want. But… if you two were that close, then I can promise you that she wouldn’t want you to think that way. She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. I understand how hard this is for you--”
“ Do you.” The statement -- absolutely not a question -- is uncharacteristically harsh. The bark of a much larger dog than he’s previously shown himself to be. And it absolutely does not come with an immediate retreat and profuse apology, though neither does it come with an aggressive posture. It’s more addressed to the floor than to the other general. “ Do you understand.”
“Yes, I do!” Kimball snaps back. “You’re not the only one who’s lost friends because of this war.”
… friends. Right. Of course she couldn’t have known: he and Emily had been very careful to keep that information private. If anyone has figured it out, he’d’ve assumed it was Agent Washington: most of the soldiers at the outpost avoided Emily like the plague and probably assumed that he, while possibly afraid of her, felt bad for her that she was so isolated.
He doesn’t correct her. It doesn’t matter now.
                                                  -------------------
“Ducking out early?”
He stops in his tracks as he makes it to the door, and turns over his shoulder to see Vanessa leaning against a wall not very far from him, a cup of coffee still gently steaming in one hand. He just gives a bit of a nervous chuckle, reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “… and here I thought I was being quiet.”
“You were. But I know you by now.” She stands straight, taking a long sip of her coffee, and makes her way closer to him, which isn’t hard, considering that he doesn’t move. “I’d offer to make you some eggs, but I get the feeling you’d say no.”
“H-Huh?”
“Nothing. You got somewhere to be?”
“Ah, er… well, I… yes, I do. But… but I--” He’s caught. He knows he’s caught. He’s got no excuse. So he just slumps. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to just… disappear like this…”
Vanessa laughs , and of course it’s not malicious. It never is, with her. At least not to him, not anymore. They’ve… come quite a ways in the several months since the war ended. “You at least gonna tell me who it is? I feel like you owe me that much.”
“I-I…”
“I’m joking . What you do once you leave here is your business.”
He stammers further, as if looking for an excuse even though one isn’t required, but eventually shuts his mouth and looks down, clears his throat to reset his stammer. It’s been dreadful these past few months, after so many years of speech therapy and an entire adult life with little discernible trace of the horrible thing. But… well, he’d been warned that the stress and trauma could bring his speech impediment back.
He is, however, thankfully spared from answering as Vanessa continues to speak. “… I’m happy for you. You know that, right?”
“Ex… e-excuse me?”
“You’ve been… down. Really down. I’ve noticed. And I get it. You… we’ve all been through… well, a lot. You, me, Chorus… and… you know, some people haven’t been able to come back from that and be happy and connect with people again. It’s good to see that you’re finally getting back out there.” There’s that teasing smirk again. “Even if it means I get to see less of you.”
“ Please don’t say it like that. I…”
“Like what?”
“Like this is your apartment and… a-and I’m sneaking out after something illicit !” It’s quite a bit louder, and quite a bit harsher, than he’d like, but the jokes -- and he knows she’s joking -- have made him uncomfortable for quite some time, and… well, today of all days he just… he really, really can’t take it. In his frustration, he twitches, his fingers flex, and he drops his helmet to the floor with a loud clatter that snaps him out of his moment of unprompted rage . “… I-I… I’m so sorry, I…”
Vanessa is, of course, unfazed. “Doyle, I’m gay . You very much aren’t my type. Well, you’ve kinda got the right hair color, but otherwise--”
“I know that! I…” He just shakes his head. He knows that. He’s known that for nearly a year now, since he first caught her eyeing Agent Carolina while the former freelancer was making use of the weight room at the training facility. “I-I know that. I’m sorry. This… this is just a very… strange day. For me, I… I’m very sorry. I… I need to go. I, er… finished the last of the major projects I’d been working on, those are on my desk.”
“Cool. I’ll get to them in the morning, I’m about done with mine.”
“There’s no rush.”
“… mind if I ask what you’re headed out to do?”
“… not at all. I…” He pauses, stoops to pick his helmet up, and straightens again, tucking it securely under his arm. “… it’s… ah… anniversary.”
“Anniversary?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate beyond that. It’s another brief moment before he turns away from her, and puts his helmet on, with shaking hands. “… good night, Vanessa.”
She doesn’t say anything further, simply watches him leave. Once the door closes behind him, he’s off down the back staircase -- he’d normally take the lift, but that’s not… he’s better going down stairs than up them. It also allows him to avoid people. Not that there’s anyone left in the building at this hour, he and Vanessa are almost always the last to leave.
He sees a familiar, teal-armored someone lurking in the lobby once he emerges from the stairwell, and he gives her a polite nod. “Hello, Agent Carolina. Er… waiting for Vanessa?”
She gives a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement.
“She should be down soon, but I can key you into the lift if you like.”
“… I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”
He nods a bit, tosses his head toward the lift and turns to lead her to it, keying in the code and letting her in in order to send her up to the offices. Once he bids her a good evening and the doors close, he sighs, and turns to head out of the building.
The walk home is short. Of course it is, his apartment -- they’re all in apartments, even him and Vanessa, it was… it was the most efficient solution to the housing issue -- isn’t far from the offices. Not a long walk at all. Not quite enough time to let his thoughts run away from him. His apartment is in the basement of the building, so there’s no zoning out in the lift and staring into space while his mind runs unchecked. Just a short flight of stairs down into the basement hallway, then a few more feet to the only occupied apartment on this level -- there’s an empty one across from him, no one’s cared to move into it, it reminds a lot of them of the barracks, and he understands that. It’s not at all why he found this one comforting, in fact, it makes his skin crawl just thinking about it that way, but it had been the sense of solitude that had come with it.
And there it is. Once the door closes, all the sounds that come with existing beyond these walls cease entirely. No traffic noise, no humming of industrial ventilation keeping air moving through the hallways. He finally lets out a heavy, exhausted sigh, letting the tension drop out of his shoulders as he leans back against the door. It takes him an inordinate amount of strength to reach up and remove his helmet, and even more to reach and set it down on the table beside the door.
It’s slow going to change out of his armor, but he manages it. Manages to start dinner too. He’s not sure how much of it he’ll eat, but he’ll try. He’s just sitting down on the sofa when the chirping alert tone of an incoming call comes in from the radio console on the end table. He considers not picking it up, letting it ring out. But he doesn’t let it go, he reaches over and taps the button to answer. “Yes?”
“ It’s me .”
“Hello, Vanessa. Did I leave something at the office?”
“ No, uh. Look, I feel bad about… you seemed upset with you left. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay .”
“Oh. Yes, I’m. I’m alright. Just a strange day, I told you.”
“ … Carolina and I are going to get some dinner, if you want to join us .”
“Ah. Already in for the night, actually. Thank you, though.”
“… what um. You mentioned an anniversary. Anniversary of what, exactly? ”
“… I… well, er…” He swallows. He’s… very carefully avoided discussing this with Vanessa. He’d had no reason to do so. When he speaks, his voice is… different. Far more tired than he’d sounded before, an incredible feat, really. “… did you know I was married, before?”
“… uh… no, you, um. You never mentioned that .”
“Mm. I asked her to marry me while I was having a panic attack. I-I thought one of us would die before we got the chance.” Doyle’s laugh is humorless, more like a scoff as he realizes how stupid it must have sounded at the time, though his fear would prove itself to be real several years later. “She probably shouldn’t have agreed to it.”
Kimball remains quiet for a moment, which he expects. He doesn’t hear Carolina in the background, but he knows she has to be there. “… do you want to… um… tell me about her? ”
“I don’t want to intrude on your evening, Vanessa. If you’ve plans with Agent Carolina, then you should keep to them.”
“ It’s… um, it’s okay. No, we… we can wait a minute. You um. You sound like you need to talk. ”
“I’m alright.”
“ Not even a name, huh? ” Her joking tone is back, and normally, it’d be… sort of welcome. But it isn’t. “ Come on. Some good memories to balance out the sadness, huh? ”
“… well, you did meet her.” He reaches up and closes one hand around the identification tags he’s kept wearing even after the war. One of them is his, the other Emily’s. Her ring settled right alongside them. “I’d be surprised if you remembered her quite as fondly as I do, though, no one really seems to.”
“… who was she ?”
He pauses. He’s not sure why the question stings so much. “… right, I didn’t think y… y-y… didn’t think y-you did. I’m… not surprised. Emily could be… a bit off-putting. I admit that.”
“Emily? … wait, Doctor Grey?”
“Mm.” He leaves that answer as it is for a moment. He hears Vanessa make a small sound of acknowledgement, but she doesn’t speak. His grip tightens around Emily’s tags, so much so that it shakes. “... she deserved so much better. ... she wasn’t always l… wasn’t always li… l-like that. I… I di… didn’t… didn’t realize there was something wrong until it was… far too late to stop it. She deserved someone who could have helped her… before she got so bad. Perhaps if she’d been in her right mind--”
“... I don’t think she’d be very happy to hear you say that ,” Vanessa says, thankfully cutting him off before he can really finish his thought. “ I think she’d be insulted to know you think she must have been out of her mind to do what she did .”
“You… y-you’re very right.” Doyle shuts his eyes again. Good lord, he’s absolutely awful. How can he think so poorly of Emily. And what’s worse… what’s worse is the part that he’s forgotten in his grief. That his voice cracks and shakes on admitting, even after the usual throat clearing in order to stop himself from stammering. “... her greatest fear was that she would lose her mind entirely, you know.”
“… I think that’s a perfectly rational fear .”
“… as did I,” he simply says. “… I’m… dreadfully sorry to have ruined your evening, you had… you had plans, didn’t you?”
“ … no, it’s… i-it’s okay. I don’t mind. You’re upset, and you, um… it’s not a problem .”
“No, I… you should enjoy your evening. Well, er… a-as much as you can after dealing with me, anyhow.”
“ Wait, no, it’s--it’s fine, really .”
“… thank you for listening, Vanessa. I didn’t realize how much I needed to… ‘get that off of my chest,’ as it were.”
“ Hey, listen, it’s still early, Carolina and I can come get you, you can come have dinner with us. I don’t feel right leaving you alone like this. ”
“No, thank you. I’m not much for company right now. I… think I’m just going to go to bed.”
“ Doyle, wait-- ”
“Good night, Vanessa.”
                                                 -------------------
Doyle doesn’t come in on time the next morning.
Doyle is never late to work. In fact, he’s always early, settled into work for the day by the time Vanessa makes it in. So to see no trace of the man in the building after the rest of the staff is mostly in in the morning is jarring and almost frightening to begin with.
Vanessa has her suspicions.
Something about the dark office, the empty desk, the memory of just how tired Doyle had sounded on their call last night makes her feel sick and worried. She remembers how he’d very uncharacteristically snapped at her before leaving work the day before -- he’d apologized, true, but still… and last night had been… a hard date for him. Something’s wrong. She knows it.
But she waits. She waits five, ten minutes before she can’t stand it anymore. She doesn’t bother with a call. She just rushes from her office and down the back stairs, because taking the elevator will take too much time. She barely stops to apologize to Matthews after knocking into him on her way out the front door, and it’s hell to push upstream through the foot traffic for the two blocks between the offices and Doyle’s building, but she manages it.
His building had chosen to go for non-powered doors, far easier to build than the heavy steel sliders, though with far less security. Which is useful for Vanessa, considering it only takes her two minutes to break the damn thing off its hinges.
She’s only been to his apartment a handful of times, and every time, she’d noted how bare it was. Hardly looked lived-in. She’d thought that it was because all he did was go to work and then come home to sleep, he didn’t take days off. He didn’t have a lot of time for decorating. But now… she’s not so certain that’s the real reason. Now… it sort of feels like he didn’t plan to stay long.
“… Doyle?” She shakes her head, reaches up and pulls her helmet off when she sees his still sitting on the table by the door. “Doyle, it’s me.”
Nothing.
“Doyle? You home?”
Of course he’s home .
There’s only two doors in the apartment: she knows one to be the bathroom, which also has a door into the bedroom. So it’s this second door she tries when she finds the one to the bedroom locked. And it’s not only unlocked, but slightly ajar.
She had been afraid of what she might see once she reached his apartment. Her mind had given her a hundred possibilities: that lanky figure hanging from a ceiling figure by the neck, the coffin-sized bathtub overflowing with bloody water, a body slumped against a wall with gore smeared behind it and a gaping gunshot wound. Or worse, no trace of the man at all.
So when she sees the shadowed shape of a body in the bed, it’s… both something of a relief, and sucker punch to the gut that knocks all the breath from her body. She’s hesitant to cross the small room and turn on the overhead light, but she does, and it cuts off the third attempt to call the man’s name entirely.
Vanessa knows he isn’t going to answer her.
He left the empty medication bottles on his bedside table. Two of them, both prescribed to him by Doctor Grey, but… obviously a little out of date.
She’s seen her share of dead bodies. But all of them have gone out violently, or in mental anguish that still showed on the corpse. But Doyle… looks peaceful. Really like he’d gone to sleep. No fear, no pain, nothing. Just… peace.
She looks for a note. She doesn’t find one.
She calls whoever she needs to. Reports it. Suzy, the medic-turned-doctor, who Emily had trusted with her patients. Jensen and Smith, they’re… cops now, they have to be called. She stays while they look around, tells them what she knows. What he said. How he didn’t leave a note that she can find. They find he’s holding a set of military ID tags, with a gold ring dropped onto the chain. One of them is his. One of them is Doctor Grey’s.
When they finish up, she goes back to the office. She’ll… have to think of something to tell the people now. It occurs to her to check his office on the way by, check his desk for the projects he’d said he’d finished. She’ll have to clean it out anyway. She finds the files right where he said they’d be, but on top of them is something else: a piece of paper, marked with his flowing, elegant handwriting. Not messy, not hurried. Absolutely clear to read.
I’m very sorry I lied to you, Vanessa. I didn’t want to waste your time with a long goodbye. You had an appointment to keep, I had dinner plans. But if you’ve found this, then I suppose that you already know what those plans truly were.
Do you remember what I said, at the skirmish in Armonia? The outpost that was destroyed? It was our primary command facility, and the location of our field hospital. Where Emily was stationed. After the massacre there, Locus reported it to me in Armonia. He put her ring into my hand, and told me that he’d found her lying in the snow. That she’d already bled to death by the time he’d gotten to her. There was nothing he could have done. I still wear her tag. And her ring, on the chain.
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was what I thought she must have looked like by then. And when it came to light that Locus had been lying to us… I was hoping that he’d lied about her too. And he had, which in all honesty came as nothing short of the most intense relief I think I’ve ever felt. I thought back then that I didn’t know how I’d ever get along without her. When you met me in Armonia, I was greatly considering letting you take your shot and end everything. I didn’t want to live without her. I’d considered doing it myself, but I couldn’t have done that to the soldiers.
Please don’t be upset with yourself. Or anyone else. Of course no one saw the signs. I made certain there weren’t any signs to show. I didn’t go a romantically poetic route and go all the way to the old Armonia site and let the radiation get me if the medication didn’t because I didn’t want to be stopped by some soul on the street and distracted. I didn’t want it to be loud and messy, or dramatic. I wanted this to be over. Rather appropriately, I am just so tired. I’ve been an insomniac since I could spell the word. I just want to sleep. This has been months in the making, Vanessa, there was never anything you or anyone else could have done to stop it.
Tell people whatever you like. Tell them the truth, tell them I was too weak to go on, too selfish to live without the woman I loved. Lie to them and tell them the trauma of war took its toll in other ways and I wasn’t strong enough to take it -- well, that part’s sort of true, I suppose. Or don’t tell them anything. It doesn’t matter in the slightest.
Do me a favor, would you, and make sure that whatever happens to me, they leave me with Emily’s things. There was nothing of her to bury but her plate armor, and I’ve had that since it happened. If we can’t be buried together properly, I’d like to do whatever we can .
She doesn’t know how long she spends standing there, reading and rereading the paper in her hands. She doesn’t know how long her radio chirps for before she notices it, and answers, her voice shaky and broken.
“Yes?”
“ General Kimball? It’s uh. It’s Smith, ma’am. There’s kind of a crowd out here, some reporters. Uh. What do you want us to tell them? ”
She pauses. “Don’t tell them anything. Not yet. I want to handle this properly.”
“ Yes ma’am. ”
                                                   -------------------
Suzy comes to visit around dinner. To check in on her, mostly, see how she’s holding up, but also to deliver some news.
Preliminary results of the autopsy say that it was the medication overdose that killed him, she’s confident to call it a clonazepam overdose right now. But there’s something else. Sort of an ultimate cliche, really.
His medical records all indicated a rather weak heart. But the heart she’d seen when she’d checked him over had been… different. There had been some swelling, she says, a specific swelling of the left ventricle that indicated something called takotsubo cardiomyopathy . It’s stress-related, and rare, and it mostly affects women between sixty and eighty. Dying from it is nearly unheard of, but if it goes untreated in someone with such high stress, well, it can cause other problems. If he’d ignored it, or had never noticed, it could have contributed to heart failure.
It’s the common name that almost, darkly, makes Vanessa laugh. Some people, Suzy tells her, call it broken heart syndrome .
“The physical broken heart didn’t kill him,” Suzy clarifies. “But by all accounts, it was probably going to.”
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thicc-boi-maine · 5 years ago
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Dr. Grey, General Doyle, and General Kimball crabs
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illusion-of-sea-axes · 6 years ago
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Tuckington-Kimballina Roleswap AU 
Character info below the cut!
Special Agent Minnesota - Vanessa Kimball 
Born and raised on Chorus
Joined the UNSC shortly following her 18th birthday
(Shortly following, the UNSC stopped really contacting Chorus)
Willingly jumped on the chance to join Project Freelancer to make a bigger difference in the war
Was a team leader who had intense empathy for her team mates
Became colder and more withdrawn as her team started ignoring her and brushing off her concerns 
Demanded she be given an AI so her team would listen to her again
Perceived Tex as one of the reasons her team stopped listening to her and falling apart
Doesn’t join the defecting Freelancers because she no longer trusts any of them (or the UNSC)
Betrayed ultimately by the Meta
Agent Tennessee - Lavernius Tucker
Enlisted in the military for stupid reasons, realized pretty damn quick it was not going to be as fun as he hoped
Discovered an alien sword he could use while on a deployment, which got a lot of attention. 
Joined Project Freelancer to get away from the front lines and the eye of scrutiny. 
Did suspect something was up, but never had the chance to confront Connie about it
Ultimately wound up with Epsilon. 
Private David Washington 
Sim trooper
Was pressured to join the military by his father. Purposefully tried to get assigned somewhere less dangerous. 
Silly straws
Yellow accents added by Church following Caboose’s assignment to Blood Gulch to easier differentiate
Bleaches his hair.
Has tried to convince Command to send cats to Blood Gulch
General Carolina Church of the New Republic
ODST
Felt somewhat betrayed by the UNSC due to the death of her mother and the isolation of her father, but any statements or possible insurrectionist behavior was glossed over due to her effectiveness 
Crash-landed on Chorus during the Covenant war. Joined the Republic after witnessing how the Feds treated many of those under their governing  
Was not subjected to a toxic command structure. (More similar to early-Freelancer Carolina)
Survived an assassination attempt
Rose to the role of General due to her actual experience in the face of the Covenant War
Not shown, but- Vanessa winds up with an Epsilon that portrays herself as Tex (very similar to Epsi!Tex in the show)
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anneapocalypse · 6 years ago
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Donald Doyle's central character flaw was that he lacked the courage of his convictions. Though willing to send others to their deaths for the cause, he himself did not believe in it deeply enough to risk his own life. That's why Doyle's arc culminates in sacrifice—not because he deserved to die, but because he found a cause he truly believed in, something worth dying for.
Vanessa Kimball's central character flaw was that she had been fighting so long she could no longer see a life beyond the war. Though she fought for a better tomorrow, she struggled to believe either that peace was possible or that she would live to see it. That's why Kimball's arc culminates in her living to lead Chorus in a new era of peace—not because she was unwilling to die, but because she found that not only was peace possible, there was a place for her in it, something worth living for.
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razmerry · 2 years ago
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Kimball and Doyle! This one’s almost a week late because, ah, I don’t reeeally have any particular passion for these two. They are very functional characters for the roles that they play! I’m sure! I have read some good Kimballs in fic, though, so I’ll give her that. 
Here’s some information about these conflicted leaders:
- In this AU, Chorus is a tiny, out-of-the-way planet colonized by Cardassia during the Occupation, which was eventually just kind of trailed off and forgotten over the years, and when the Occupation ended it was left up to a small Bajoran government with a handful of Cardassian to run it. As a civil war started to tear apart the factions, like in RVB, that’s when Hargrove and his goons entered the picture, hoping to get at the natural resources of the planet. So on and so forth for the plots of season 11 - 13. 
- That means that all the Chorus characters, like Andersmith, Jensen, Bitters, Palomo, and the rest are all Bajoran. About half of the space pirates would be Cardassian, and the rest would just be assorted aliens. 
- Man, I really have nothing to say about these two! Hm, I like their color schemes, I tried to incorporate blue/yellow respectively into their whole design. I’m pretty proud of how the portraits turned out in this drawing. 
Well, hope you enjoyed these two. Next week is TEMPLE and I will have a LOT more to talk about!
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