#last days of war

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Jägermeister

Chapter One: Celebration

“Your leg is killing us,” grumbled Newt. 

“Well, pardon me for attempting to make haste.” Hermann rolled his eyes, which was particularly effective with the subconjunctival hemorrhaging. “It was merely the fate of the world at stake.”

Newt was pretty sure Hermann hadn’t been this sarcastic before the drift.

They were still in LOCCENT, because moving sounded like a lot of work, and they were officially off the clock.

The clock had stopped.

Newt knew one of them didn’t quite believe it yet, but he couldn’t tell if it was him or Hermann. 

Hermann had collapsed in a nearby office chair after its owner vacated it in favor of joining the celebration that was spreading through the Shatterdome like a particularly noisy strain of flu. 

Newt had been saving two bottles of alcohol for the end of the end of the world. They’d been stashed in the lab for five years, ever since he first got to Hong Kong and could take advantage of its open port. One was a bottle of blue Curaçao. The other was Jägermeister.

Newt had always wondered what public affairs person decided Jaeger would be the perfect name for their military-grade Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots, when it was already sort of taken by a fairly infamous brand of German liquor, but it was kind of like when Coronavirus hit and nobody stopped drinking Corona. There were much bigger things to worry about. 

Jägermeister was German for 'Master Hunter,' a title originally reserved for officials in positions related to game keeping and hunting. Newt seemed to have a stronger grasp on German history than he had before the drift, so he now knew that Hermann Göring had been a Reichsjägermeister, which was just patently fucking unfair. 

If any Hermann ever deserved the title ‘Jaeger Master of the Realm', it was Hermann Gottleib. 

Now they wouldn’t even get to drink their celebratory toast. Even Newt knew better than to mix alcohol with neural overload.

Some rockstar he turned out to be. Here he was, at the biggest party the human race would probably ever throw, and he was going to bed both early and sober. 

At least, Newt hoped he was going to bed early. Even his hair hurt. Though not as much as Hermann’s leg. 

“I still can't believe it’s the year 2025 and we had to deliver that message in person,” he said. “I mean, how could you have forgotten your phone?”

Hermann huffed and puffed for a moment before saying, “You didn’t have your phone either!”

“As usual, Hermann, you are wrong. I did have my phone. It was just in several pieces. Why? Did you try calling me or something?" Before Hermann could respond, Newt added, “How weird was it that the chopper’s radio didn’t work either? I mean, it was fine when you flew out to the bone slums, right?”

Hermann gave a tired hum of affirmation. “Murphy's Law?”

Maybe Leatherback had a baby too. Maybe it let off a tiny localized blast of organic EMP that took out the radio in a single PPDC helicopter. 

Maybe Newt needed to go to bed.

“I thought you said Murphy’s Law was unscientific compared to… What was it called? The English Flatulence Formula?”

Hermann bristled. “You know perfectly well it is called the British Gas Formula, because the work was commissioned by British-”

Newt interrupted Hermann before he could blow a blood vessel in his other eye. “Yeah, yeah, but you've got to admit it was kind of cool getting to storm into LOCCENT and save the day.”

Hermann smiled suddenly. It was a little bit blinding, even through a cracked lens. “Did you actually call Hercules Hansen a fascist, or was I hallucinating?”

“Oh, shit,” Newt groaned. “I should probably apologize for that. I was sort of worked up, and he looks a lot like your dad did back in the 90s when he thought he could pull off a beard.”

Hermann's smile grew, impossibly, wider. “You were calling my father a fascist?”

“Look, the drift was a lot, alright? I mean, the first one was too, but in a completely different way. I- You know their minds don't work like ours. It did nothing to prepare me for a drift with another human being. Your mind-”

Newt cut himself off. He wasn't breathing but he was babbling, which should have been biologically impossible. 

He sat down on the floor, leaning against the console where Hermann was seated. Someone rushing past them with a bottle of actual champagne accidentally stepped on his leg a little bit, but Newt was too tired to mind much. It wasn’t even the first time he had been stepped on that day. 

The console was cold and hard, so Newt rested his head on Hermann’s knee instead. He didn’t realize this was an abnormal thing for him to do until it was too late. By then, Hermann was patting the top of Newt’s head, like he was a Japanese schoolgirl or a golden retriever. 

If anyone in LOCCENT found this weird, they elected to ignore it in favor of whatever weird shit they were getting up to. Except for Tendo, who kept giving them double thumbs up. He also seemed to be collecting money from a lot of people. Newt and Hermann elected to ignore it. 

“When did you get stepped on?” asked Hermann, who was now probing gently at Newt’s hairline like he was expecting to find a footprint. “Was that at the Anti-Kaiju Shelter?” 

Newt's hair stood upright when Hermann's hand left it, even though the only product that could still be in it was kaiju placenta. 

“On the way there,” said Newt. “Right before I hit the car.” 

“You were hit by a car?” asked Hermann, frowning like he already knew that wasn't quite right. 

“No, I hit a car,” said Newt. “It was parked.”

Hermann sighed. “You should really get checked out by Medical.”

“Hermann,” Newt absolutely did not whine. “This is the first party I’ve been to in years that I’m pretty sure I’m actually invited to. Can’t we stay for a little while?” 

“If you can feel my leg, then you must know I can feel your ribs,” said Hermann. “Not to mention all the debilitating neurological damage.”

“Nah, man, that’s how my brain always looks.”

“Newton, you drifted with two kaijus.”

“The plural is still kaiju,” he said. “You know that drives me crazy.”

“Newton.”

“Fine!” Newt leaned into Hermann just enough to push his desk chair a few centimeters. “Only if you let me wheel you there.” 

Hermann crossed his arms. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I know your hand is starting to spasm from white-knuckling that cane for the last hour or two.”

“Try day or two,” Hermann muttered. 

“Come on, man,” Newt might have whined this time. “Our leg is killing us.”

“You sound like the Queen of England,” snapped Hermann, and then he giggled. It was a short, hiccupy thing, but it was an honest to Godzilla giggle. Newt had never gotten one of those out of him before, not even with the joke why you can’t hear a pterodactyl in the bathroom.

“You sound like the Queen of England.” Newt leaned into him again, but this time Hermann planted his feet on the floor so the chair wouldn’t move. 

“Well, we are not amused,” said Hermann. 

“Fine,” said Newt. 

He had a theory that the Queen of England had died a couple of years ago and the one they put on TV just last month for Christmas was actually a deepfake. Whenever he brought it up, Hermann got all offended on behalf of queen and country, and his stupid posh accent got even worse for the rest of the day. So of course Newt brought it up constantly.

Newt stood up with little to no cursing and helped Hermann to his feet. Then he sidled up alongside him, much like Hermann had done to him moments ago when the clock stopped. 

The clock had stopped.

This time, Newt slotted himself under Hermann’s armpit, and wrapped one arm around his waist. 

“Alright, Your Majesty. Let’s go put on our gowns.”

...

@lastdaysofwar

[hypewinter]

During a press conference for the newest Justice League member, Phantom, a reporter asks him "Do you have anything to say to all the children who aspire to be like you?"

Phantom looked at the reporter puzzled before saying, "Children wanna be like me? Why? I'm a bad influence."

[limeshade]

Ben.

5 YEARS OF CANON REYLO Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Released December 19th, 2019

[dailyezrabridger]

Star Wars: Kanan ★ Book 1: Epilogue

[swedenis-h]

Star Wars day!!

[horsechestnut]

I just think it's really neat how much fans have latched onto the fact that Stephanie Brown was Robin.

Like, both in and out of universe Stephanie was never meant to be taken seriously as Robin. The writers only made her Robin so that her death in War Games would be shocking and Bruce only made her Robin because he thought it would make Tim jealous enough to come back. She only had the mantle for 71 days before being fired (for doing something that literally every other Robin has also done and not been fired over), and she was only active during 50 of them. There are only six issues where Steph is Robin in the canon timeline.

Her final words before her death are asking Batman (Batman, because even on her death bed he doesn't trust her enough to take off his mask) if any of it was real. Was she really Robin? And Batman assures her that of course she was, that she was part of the legend and no one can take it away from her. Except it's a lie, because despite his reassurances, Batman never puts up a memorial or does anything to preserve her memory. He never really thinks of her as Robin, and even her friends will always think of her as Spoiler before ever remembering Robin.

Meanwhile DC spent years ignoring her time as Robin, to the point where it was completely erased from existence for awhile. It's technically back now, because timelines are weird, but unlike the others it's never been altered. She's never been given a second chance at it, no one's ever gone back and added more issues or details about those 71 days, or even seems to want to acknowledge them most of the time.

But fans have clung on to it anyway. Sure, there are lots of people who make Robin posts that are just about the boys, but there are just as many people who are ready to fight anyone who doesn't include her. Maybe it was only for a little while, but she was Robin, and we're sure as hell not going to forget it. If DC isn't going to bother to remember, than we will.

Stephanie Brown was Robin. She was part of the legend. It was real. No matter what, no one can take that away from her.

[demaparbat-hp]

No war au: first time meeting each other at a diplomatic event. zuko, crown prince of the fire nation kisses the hand of katara chief of the southern water tribe.

Beyond diplomacy.

[magicandmundane]

Something something Clone Force 99 breaking binders in every season finale

[airborneinfantry]

His German's as good as mine.

Joe Liebgott & David Webster in BAND OF BROTHERS (2001) ↳ Part Eight: The Last Patrol

[animatedjen]

When we were fighting Dagan, those... hallucinations. What were they for you? Our friends, suffering because they followed me. And I couldn't do anything to stop it.

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Jägermeister

Chapter Three: First Drift/Last Drift

Newt and Hermann had to wait while the doctors qualified to perform neurological imaging were tracked down at the various parties raging across the Shatterdome. 

They waited in the triage area, where the beds were only separated by a curtain. As soon as the medics left, Newt climbed out of his bed and wheeled his IV over to open the curtain.

The medics had already poked, prodded, and x-rayed everything more accessible than their brains. Newt had been diagnosed with a concussion, two cracked ribs, and a sprained wrist. He considered himself pretty darn lucky. He’d walked away with worse injuries after a fistfight with Aleksis Kaidonovsky over whether or not a hot dog was technically a sandwich. 

Newt and Hermann both had subconjunctival hemorrhaging, but Newt also had scratched his cornea. The medics gave him an eyepatch after applying a topical anesthetic directly to his eyeball, which had grossed Hermann out so much that he asked them to close the curtain again. 

Not long after that, they were wheeled off to imaging– and the OR for Newt once they got a good look at his brain– and then to separate rooms.

It was late by the time Newt’s medic turned off the lights and shut the door behind her. His room was surprisingly dark. He had expected at least some ambient light from the monitors he was hooked up to, but all they did was show his rising heart rate. 

Newt had always been a little bit afraid of the dark. When he snuck into Jaeger Refuse Storage to scavenge parts for his DIY PONs, he had taken three flashlights with him. One was actually a headlamp, but he still had to hold another in his mouth just to have a hand free for the Milking Machine. If anyone could use a bioluminescent tongue, it was Newt. 

Now his fear of the dark was compounded with some sort of medical phobia from Mutavore’s memories of being experimented on by his masters. 

Newt's room was silent, except for the insectile clicking and hissing noises in his head. Medical had assured him the noises were just a byproduct of his brain biopsy. Such ASMR-ass sounds should have been Easy Listening to a guy with music taste as eclectic as Newt’s own, but there was something inherently distracting about them, and Newt had a hard enough time focusing on a good day. 

There were moments, ever since his first drift, when Newt felt like he should be much taller. That had always been true, but now he felt like he should be much, much taller. As in, 2,500 tons of awesome or awful. Whatever you wanna’ call it. 

That was no big deal, even if it did give him vertigo. Worse were the moments when Newt felt like he was the one making the hissing and clicking noises. Not just the shifting pressure in his skull, but Newt himself. Corrugated tymbals or abdominal spiracles. Stridulation. Something like that. Entomology had never been one of Newt’s specialties, so his knowledge was mostly limited to kaiju skin lice.

This was worse than the extreme height dysmorphia, because the noises didn’t come from the kaiju. The noises came from their masters- the colonising race that Newt had already begun to refer to in his mind as the Precursors. 

In Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II (1993), one of the main characters said, “Well, dinosaurs were around for 150 million years, and man has only been around for two million years. Who knows? One day, dinosaurs could make a comeback.” 

At least, according to the subtitles. New hadn’t rewatched it since he met a Mako, found out what “Oji-chan” meant, and devoted himself to learning Japanese for the twelve whole days it took him, because they had three fucking alphabets. It helped that he had basically every kaiju movie memorized by the time he turned nine. Not counting the American Godzilla films, because they were never as good as the Japanese ones. (Not counting the 1998 Godzilla film set in New York, because that one was objectively if unintentionally hilarious. Newt’s favorite part was when Godzilla got pregnant.)

Anyway, Newt now knew that the numbers cited in Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II (1993) were not entirely accurate. It was more like 65 million years and 300,000 years, respectively. 

The Precursors were around for a lot longer than that . 

One day, they could make a comeback. 

The noises in Newt’s head grew even more pervasive as his heart rate finally fell out of sheer exhaustion and he drifted towards uneasy unconsciousness.

His first and last drift had been like night and day.

Mutavore’s brain had been damaged, so Newt experienced their drift in a series of strobing images. It reminded him of an old film reel with too much dead space between the cells. During more modern movies, the screen was still technically dark for a split second in between each individual frame, so for every hour of film you watched, you were sitting in darkness for twenty minutes. 

You didn’t notice, because your mind was busy filling in the blanks, but the images from Mutavore’s brain were too disjointed to autofill. Instead, the darkness in between turned each one into its own jumpscare: visions of slash and burn colonization, medical experimentation that was closer to reverse vivisection than growing clones in test tubes, row after row of constrained kaiju like some kind of even more fucked up version of The Matrix . 

The soundtrack was even worse. The noises were everywhere, surround sound, as if bugs were burrowing into Newt’s very brain. 

He didn’t understand why the Precursors needed to make noises like that if they communicated via a hive mind. There was just no biological imperative for them to go around sounding like a goddamn Madagascar hissing cockroach. It couldn’t even be an intimidation tactic, since they sent kaiju to do all their heavy life taking.

The entire experience had been equal parts terrifying and metamorphic. It left Newt with shaking hands, a racing heart, and the general feeling that someone else had just claimed squatter’s rights to his brain. 

The second drift was different. Otachi Jr.’s fetal brain may have been undamaged, but it was also underdeveloped, so its connection to the hive mind wasn’t as overpowering as Mutavore’s had been. The flow of information was smoother too, as if Newt’s brain had been terraformed into something kaiju compatible, just like humanity had terraformed Earth for them with ozone depletion and carbon-dioxide pollution.

Sure, the baby had been screaming in the background the whole time, but in Newt’s experience, that was just what babies did. If anything, it drowned out the Precursors’ biologically unimperative noises. 

The difference between the two drifts could have been exclusively due to the variables of the kaiju brains, but Newt’s working hypothesis was that it had all come down to Hermann. 

If Jaegers were built to contend with kaiju, it made some sort of sense that both would require two people to share the neural load, but that had never occurred to Newt, who was notoriously terrible at asking for help. For six doctorates, he had moved his couch between dorm rooms with the help of only a rolling desk chair.  

Hermann had been there, anyway, when Newt needed him. He was there now, when Newt woke up screaming, one of his hands finding Newt’s carotid artery, just as it had after that first terrifying and metamorphic drift with Mutavore. 

...

@lastdaysofwar

[yukipri]

"Not in vain."

Go save ALL your brothers, boys!

*My hopes for The Bad Batch S3. Happy Premiere day!

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REUPLOAD, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

[chiliger]

Cody - Kote - Glory

For Cody Day 2/2/24

(Closeups under the cut)

[334iwatchshit]

please remember that luke skywalker adopted rey and fin a few years after marrying din djarin and and opening his jedi school on mandalor with their green rat son.

[kingofthewilderwest]

what is concentration? how do you get it? it's about orange juice, right?

[ymeisli]

Codywan Week Day 7, Armor

@codywanweek

i love obiwans clone wars armor too much i had to draw it