recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
GLITTER

""Ranger leaving the Shatterdome,"" announces AGNIS.

"Thank you, madam," mutters [[[Cooper Aikenhead|Cooper]]].

An hour later, the curfew chime sounds.

Half an hour after that, AGNIS states, ""Incoming call from [[[Owen Levey|Levey]], WJ-03 Handler].""

"My tablet, please."

""Transferring.""

The tablet beeps.

"This is Aikenhead in GLITTER."

""Aikenhead, is Bubbles on site?""

[Cooper] taps an icon. "She has some clothes down in Laundry."

""That'd be her jumpsuit."" Sigh. ""Any tags where they're not supposed to be?""

Well, yes, this is why none of the GLITTER team were allowed to place any bets.

[Cooper] widens the view. "Picking up a signal from [name of suburb]."

""Got it. Thanks, [Cooper].""

"Not a problem. Good luck."

 Jackson's first successful escape attempt: Figure | **GLITTER** | Generic Black Socks | Matte
Sleep Tight

## Meta

**Timing:** 28 January 2022

**Setting:** 'dorm' near DriftSci Central at the Jaeger Academy, Kodiak, Alaska

## Text

Jackson and Logan are marched down a series of bland, metal hallways, shoulder-to-shoulder between four Uniforms.

The guards on either side take a firmer hold on their arms; a moment later, they stop.

The Uniform in front opens a door.

"After you," says Logan.

Jackson enters.

"At least it's bigger than the last room," says Logan. Twists around. "Thanks for the walk, officers." Snaps a salute. "You're dismissed."

The door slams shut and the lock slots home.

Jackson lets out a shuddery breath.

"Top bunk's mine." Logan hoists himself up, dusts off the soles of his socks, flops onto the mattress.

The metal bed frame creaks under his weight.

Lights snap off.

"That you?"

"No switch," Jackson mumbles.

"Guess someone's decided it's bedtime, then." Logan fluffs his pillow, pulls up the single blanket, rolls onto his side. "Lie down and get some sleep while you can."

The lower bunk protests.

Logan digs himself deeper into the thin mattress.

Fabric scuffles.

The lower bunk grumbles.

"Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"What's happening to us?"

"Lessee, you were kidnapped, locked in a small room, flown to Alaska, locked in another small room, and tomorrow they're going to connect our brains and teach us to punch monsters. Go to sleep."

"Can't."

Logan sighs. "Why not?"

"Cold."

"You're wearing a jumper."

"Still cold."

Rolls his eyes. "How d'you sleep at home?"

"With Ch—" A choked sob.

Huffs, counts to five, tosses his blanket over the edge. "Try that."

No answer, but the bed rattles as Jackson collects the offering and lies back down.

Logan closes his eyes.

A sniffle.

Logan counts to ten.

A muffled sob.

Ten again.

A gasp and a sob.

"Jack."

"Sorry."

"We'll find a way outta this, but, right now, we both need sleep. So, sleep."

"Can't," whimpers Jackson.

"Try."

"Can't."

"Jack, shut up and go to sleep or, so help me, I'll climb down there and knock you out."

A sniffle.

Silence.
Waterproof Meta

After Jupiter's born (like within the first week), does the PPDC try to get a picture of the three of them for the news? "On the eve of his deployment to Hong Kong, Ranger Jackson Jones of Vulcan Specter welcomed his new baby, Jupiter, with his wife of x years, Charlotte Darling, at the [hospital], early/late [date]." kinda thing?

MEDIA: I ... I think they do. All kinds of warm fuzzies in the press for the Corps and will make sure that when Jackson and Logan are killed (and the Corps knows they will be) it will be very tragic and heroic. Beautiful wife, orphans, a baby who'll never know Dad, yadda yadda. Lord only knows how many pictures they'll snap at the funeral.

Let's say, then, that the newborn portrait happens between "Smuggled" and "On Parting". Jackson looks /awful and he's weepy (stress of what he'll tell Charlie) and 'omg i do get to see Jupiter again!!!!')

Perfect dating for the portrait. And, yeah, Jackson would be a total wreck for the picture. Have to go with two kilos of makeup this time.

Two kilos of /waterproof makeup!

Yup!
Shatterdome (hangar)

I'm picturing the hangar floor has designated 'people' and 'cart' lanes, for instance there's a 'people zone' at the foot of each Jaeger such that when folks assemble to clean out the machinery, they can stand safely without carts having to drive around them or get them to move. There're bound to be intersections, of course, and crossing the hangar width-wise can be an adventure.

Lanes makes good sense, and seemed to be sort of what was going on in the film, with Raleigh wandering into the cart lane while he was rubbernecking

That scene with Raleigh was what I was thinking about, too.

## Niftiness

### Electric Vehicles

Powering water-bound vessels from shore/external power sources:

* For Cruise Ships: Breakdown of the components to power a cruise ship (ie something massive).

* For smaller vessels: Breakdown of the componenets to power a smaller vessel (maybe a jumphawk?).

Electric Cars, Electric Vehicles, and Golf Carts

Vehicle-to-grid: Less graphical than I had hoped

Charging Station: kinds of vehicle-to-station attachment. There’s an induction charger holy /smokes that’s cool.
Vanish

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</noinclude>

Logan hefts his gym bag, goes for the empty locker nearest the door—

Checked by a firm hand.

Logan yanks his arm away, glares.

A serious expression shakes its head—the brave tech from [picture day].

"Fuck off," snarls Logan.

The serious expression just shakes their head again.

"What's your—"

"Excuse us, Ranger."

Logan turns to the speaker.

[Fluffy's ever-present  [head of] bottle ginger says,] "He—" Points to the blond. "—can't talk."

Logan rolls his eyes. "So what's his problem?"

"That's /**Scott** /**Hansen**'**s** locker."

"Who?"

"You don't know?"

"I got here two days ago."

"You living under a rock before that?"

Logan replies with a bland look.

"Everyone's got their own version, but they all say he left his brother in hospital and just totally vanished."

"Sure." Gets a hold of the door—

Everyone with a line of sight on him—except the fluffhead—titters with worry.

Logan rolls his eyes and takes the locker one over.

Bag stowed, personnel bar code stuck to the front—just crooked enough to be annoying—Logan parts the crowd to the gym.

And the crowd keeps parting as Logan rolls across the gym to where Jack stretches.

"They saved us a quiet corner," greets Jack.

"Scampered at the sight of you, too, ay?"

Jack sighs—coughs.

Logan warms up.
"Ever wonder what, /**exactly**, they've put in our files?"

"Nope." Shrugs. "Mine probably looks the same as always." Pats Jack's head—

Jack swats at him.

—"You'll get used to it."

"But I'm not—" Waves his hands. "This— Whatever."

"I don't know about that; you scared the hell out of Officer Four-eyes. What'd you do to her anyway?"

Jack arranges his shoe. "I—" Grumps. "I got angry and threw the tablet." Yanks his laces. "But not at her!" Tells his knee, "Was at the wall."

Logan snorts, checks his. "You ever hear of a Scott Hansen?"

Jack straightens, frowns in concentration. "He-him-his, one of the first Rangers. Big hero from the Air Force. I think."

"Brother's the guy you snapped on yesterday?" Hops up.

Jack cringes.

"So, the techs keep his locker empty as a sorta shrine. 's weird."

"Well, he /**did** vanish off the face of the planet. It was all over the news a couple years ago."

"Exact word they used." Intones, "'Vanished'."

"That's kinda ... oh." Jack's eyes get huge. "/**Shit.**"

Logan blinks a moment. "You think ...?"

Jack swallows, eyes the floor.

"'course you do." Deep breath. "What d'you think he did?"

"More worried about where he went," Jackson mumbles. "And is."

"Can think of a few likely places off the top of my head." Sighs. "None of 'em pleasant. One's /**real** quiet, though."

Jack shivers.

"C'mon, we better get running before they start to think we're slacking off."

"Y-yea. Let's go." Jack pushes off at a jog for the indoor track around the gym's perimeter.
Uses

## Meta

**Timing:** 13 October 2023; between "Wilt" and "Extraction"

**Setting:** [Caitlin]'s office, Drift Science Central, Kodiak

## Text

[Caitlin, fresh back from the latest solo test,] sighs into her desk chair, mumbles, "Maybe if we shunt some of the auditory stimuli to the AI they'll last longer ...."

Her screen buzzes, 'incoming call'.

"Accept call."

""Call accepted,"" drawls the switchboard.

The screen glows to life.

""Good evening, Doctor,"" greets the Admiral.

"Good evening, sir," replies [Caitlin].

The Admiral smiles, all teeth. ""Our colleagues in Sydney have secured Blossom Collocott.""

[Caitlin] covers her mouth.

""I understand you have recommendations as to her future with the Corps?""

"Yes, sir!" pipes [Caitlin].

""The Academy director and the Ranger recruitment office each put forward strong cases; what do you think?""

"She's /**much** too valuable to risk as a Ranger, sir. I suggest we share her between the Academy and [DCaMP]. Teaching will keep her occupied and productive while we're waiting for fruition."

""There is a lot to like about this plan, Doctor."" The Admiral taps his thumbs against his lips. ""The Corps would have triple the value [from] her.""

"Triple, sir?"

Ticks them off on his fingers. ""A top-notch instructor, a fresh test subject for you, and a solution to some of Sydney's problems.""

[Caitlin] hums an affirmative.

""Does your office stand by its original choice?""

[Caitlin] clicks rapidly on another screen. "Yes, sir. We've seen no one better."

""Very well, Doctor. My staff will handle the initial logistics. You will exchange reports with Rucker at DCaMP until we're ready to move Collocott to Kodiak.""

"Yes, sir."

""Thank you for your work, Doctor.""

"You're welcome, sir."

The call disconnects and the monitor blinks to sleep mode.

[Caitlin] squeals— "I'm /**finally** getting [one of my own]!" —and dances in her chair.
Ready

## Meta

**Timing:** mid-July 2024

**Setting:** the infamous Tang clan clinic

## Text

Blossom reclines on the exam table, hoping this is over soon. She has to pee. Again.

The ultrasound tech runs the wand over Blossom's stomach.

"Everything looks /**wonderful**, Miss Lan," declares Doctor Qiao, studying the image. "Your little boy is perfectly formed with a strong heartbeat, properly positioned, and very nearly ready to be born."

Blossom sighs. "How nearly ready?"

"If he's not in your arms by the end of the month, I'll probably wish to induce labour."

"Ah."

「Thank you, Technician Ma. That will be all.」

「Yes, Doctor.」The tech holsters the wand, cleans the gel from Blossom's tummy, shuts down their equipment.

Blossom tugs her blouse back into place, sits up.

The tech bows to Blossom, bows to Doctor Qiao, shuffles out.

A sharp kick just beneath Blossom's heart.

Blossom winces, presses her palm against the spot. "You want out, ay?"

Another kick.

"Me, too, peanut. I'm a thousand-percent done with being pregnant."

"You shouldn't be pregnant for much longer," says Doctor Qiao as she taps notes into a tablet. "Have you thought about names, Miss Lan?"

"A little." Blossom dangles her legs over the side. "Right now, I like 'Bao' or 'Jia'—the character for 'home'—or maybe 'Yun'." Slides cautiously to the floor, checks her balance.

"Hmm. Those are very pretty names." Doctor Qiao glances up. "Pardon me for being old-fashioned, but they are rather less boastful than usual for little boys born here."

Blossom stretches her back, says dryly, "There's more than enough ego in his family and genes to make up for a modest name."

Doctor Qiao grunts, puts the tablet in sleep mode. "Well, Miss Lan, I won't shouldn't need to see you until baby is on his way, but if you're worried between now and then, do not hesitate to come in."

"Cool, cool." Tucks her feet in her slippers, waddles for the door.

""Take care and mind you get enough to eat and drink!"" calls Doctor Qiao.

"I will!" Blossom hollers back.

Jung meets her in the hallway.

"Washroom?" pleads Blossom. "Gotta go!"

"Right over here!" Takes Blossom's arm and speeds her along.

"You're a godsend," sighs Blossom.

"I know."
Thing

"I want my thing," demands Charlie, forcing herself to sit up.

Jackson attempts to ease her back down. "Charlie, Charlie, just relax—"

"No, I made that thing. I want it."

"We're just clamping the umbilical cord," assures a nurse.

"It's mine. Give it to me."

A nurse stifles a giggle. "Dad, if you will?"

Charlie scowls."It's /**my** thing."

"That you can have to your heart's content in just a moment."

"Here's you go," says Jackson, settling their gunky, off-colour, perfect infant against against Charlie's chest. "One baby." He closes Charlie's gown over top

She smiles sleepily, runs a hand over the tiny, [misshapen] head. "Not a baby yet."

"Not a baby?"

"Not a baby. It's a …." She gestures at her belly, kinda shrugs. "Thing."
Rabbit arc (meta): continued

See also: Rabbit arc (meta)

## The Editor

When the rabbit hole opens up, Jamie tells his editor that the reasons for the disappearance of the Nguyens are more complex than what the Defense Corps told news outlets and that those reasons touch on a multitude of wrongs/crimes/human rights violations on the part of the Corps. Maybe he gives a few details of what he's found to that point. Then he asks for more time to work on the story.

Editor says, "I'll think about it." Calls Jamie back a couple of hours later and says he's to drop the story and get back to his usual projects. (In the meantime, the editor talks to the Corps press liaison is reassured that nothing's going on and that chasing such silly conspiracy theories is a waste of time and if they publish anything lawsuit-worthy, the Corps will come down on them like a ton of bricks.)

Jamie blinks, says "oooookay", and keeps digging on his own time and from his home office.

## Jamie's Workplace

Jamie can't afford to stop working for a leave of absence. However, as long as Jamie works on his own time and equipment, his editor doesn't care and turns a blind eye to what he's up to (like inconspicuously continuing to work on the Nguyens' story).

## Order

The order in which Jamie talk to Cameryn, the Joneses, Charlie, not-Chantelle, Bubbles, and Siqi/Liu is:

* Cameryn ("A Different Kind")
* Cameryn again & Toby (unwritten piece where they clue him in something's weird about the Jones brothers)
* Jackson ("Collision")
* Charlie ("Break In")
* Not-Chantell ("By That Name" and possible follow-on)
* Logan (unwritten piece on his background & recruitment, leading to Bubbles)
* Bubbles ("Bubbles")
* Siqi/Liu

He also needs to chat with Pietr at some point about what happened to Lachlan and Andrea about Jason, and probably wants to talk to Eadith, too--he /would want to talk to her!--that could be one of the steps on how he finds not-Chantell!

Maybe Eadith points him toward Andrea, seeing as she seemed to be friends with Chantell (and maybe Jason, too, if Andrea mentions that to her).

I have bits of a tale ("Brown Paper Packages") where Andrea musters her courage and tiptoes down to Dame Eadith's estate to give her the pictures that were on Nguyen and Chantell's desks (she's in a couple of them) and I'm wondering if Andrea might run into Jamie around that time ("Tangled with String", maybe? Would call to mind the idea of everyone being connected).

(From "Darling-Jones residences" (email))
Tiny

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</noinclude>

Rianne throws him out of her hospital room, tells him she's fine, go keep watch.

So Val kisses her temple—dodges a swat—flutters off to the neonatal ward.

Now he sits in one of those impossibly uncomfortable plastic chairs and waits for news.

The doctor's voice rolls around the inside of his head.

““—only one in five—””

He studies his hands, engine oil black under his nails.

Picks at the hem of his shirt, stained with mine grit and rust.

Sighs.

““No news is good news—,”” said the nurse.

Runs a hand through his curls.

Frowns as dust mists down.

There hadn't been time for a shower—

They'd barely made it as was; their son slipping out only a handful of terrifying minutes after they arrived.

And the baby ....

A half-kilo and silent.

But! breathing, squirming.

Now—

““—only one in five babies survives being born so early—””

—it's up to the doctors on the other side of the door to keep him so.

Val smiles a wry smile.

Vosses are tough to kill.

Maraises even tougher.

Their son will be the one in five.

Val's sure of it.
Who?

## Meta

**Timing:** 28 September 2022

**Setting:** Jones' quarters, Sydney Shatterdome

**New Home**: "Vanish"

**Categories:** Logan, Jackson, Scott (mention), Sydney Shatterdome, Jones' quarters, Jackson is an artist, DriftSci

## Text

Logan flops on the couch. "Who's Scott Hansen?"

"Who?"

"Scott Hansen."

Jackson looks up from his sketchbook. "He was a Ranger right at the start." Looks down, doodles in a margin. "Disa—" He swallows.

"Shit. You think ...?"

Jackson keeps doodling.

"'course you do." Logan lets his head fall back. "What d'you suppose he did?"

"More worried 'bout where he went. And is," mumbles Jackson.

"Can think of a few likely places off the top of my head." Exhales. "None of 'em pleasant. One /**real** quiet, though."
Life Story

## Meta

**Timing:** 20 Jun 2022, the day after "Caught"

**Setting:** an office in a Sydney-area police station

## Text

The not-police guards release Logan's arms, tilt their hats, flank the door.

"Take a seat, Mr Jones," says the Suit behind the desk.

Logan sprawls, crosses his legs at the ankles, folds his hands behind his head. "You asked to see me?"

"I did." Looks at a tablet, reads, "You're Logan Patrick Jones, age twenty-nine, originally from Port Macquarie; middle-born of three brothers, son of a patent lawyer and a psychologist." Swipes. "Diagnosed with conduct disorder at age eight, entered the juvenile courts at twelve, sent to a 'reform' camp at thirteen, came within [a hair's breadth] of 'accidentally' killing—"

Logan sets his teeth.

"—your younger brother at fifteen, dropped out of school the [week] after your sixteenth birthday—"

"Believe it or not, I do actually know my own life story," says Logan. "If you're done checking for a concussion would ye put me back in my cell? Or let me go?"

The Suit huffs, straightens the tablet. "We'd like to offer you a job, Mr Jones."

"Can I name my own hours?"

"Not ex—"

"Not interested." Stands. "You can put me back in the cage now."

"Don't you want to hear the rest of our offer?"

"The hours thing's a bit of a deal-breaker with me, so, no." Logan turns—

Firm hands on his shoulders push him back into the chair.

—sighs. "Is this a test? Am I supposed to listen all polite or would you rather I fight my way out?"

The Suit's lips thin.

Logan jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Unless these two are SAS, I can probably take them. No matter what they are, I can /**definitely** mess up their pretty faces before I go down." Smirks, points with his chin. "Which you probably know from that file you have there."

"Which is exactly why we'd like to offer you a job. You—"

"You need them messed up? I'll do that for free right now." Stands—

Gets pushed back into the chair, harder this time.

"'parently, you like them better than that."

The Suit sighs.

Logan grins.

"Mr Jones, you are quite remarkable—"

Logan puffs up, preens. "Why, /**thank** you!"

"—and we believe you would make an ideal Ranger for the Defense Corps. We're—"

Chokes on a laugh. "You want /**me** to join the /**army**?" Wipes his eyes. "You've lost your fucking /**mind**."

"Mr Jones—"

"No, seriously. Put me back in the cell. Save your pitch for someone you have a chance of convincing."

"Mr Jones, you will find we can be /**quite** convincing, if needs be."

Fabric shifts behind Logan.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, then. Give it your best shot."

"Very well. Sign on with us and you won't disappear into the prison system for the rest of your natural life."

"Oh, how /**tempting**," scoffs Logan. "Can I sleep on this most attractive offer? Make sure it's right for me?"

"You have until head-count tomorrow morning." The Suit snaps closed their tablet cover. "Get him out of here."
Raleigh Becket

The solo-piloting puppy

* **Full name:** Raleigh Becket
* **Pronouns:** He-him-his
* **Height:** 6'1"
* **Build:** Medium
* **Hair:** Blond, straight
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate:** Mako Mori (and Chuck Hansen)
* **Children:** N/A
* **Siblings:** Yancy, Jazmine
* **Parents:** Richard Becket, Dominique Lapierre-Becket
* **Birthday:** 11 December 1998
* **Language:** American English (mother tongue), French (native speaker), Japanese (conversational), Cantonese (conversational)
* **Ethnicity:** White American (British - French ancestry)
* **Nicknames:**
	+ Goldie: Blossom
* **Relationships:** Cheung (friend), Jin (friend), Hu (friend), Blossom (friend), Tendo (friend), Button (adopted nephew), Liu (rescuer), Stacker (rescuer, commander), Herc (colleague), Tall Sasha (colleague), Taller Sasha (colleague)
* **Special skills:**
* **Quirks:**
* **Distinguishing marks:** scars from overloaded circuitry suit on left shoulder, arm, and side
The Kitten

## Meta

**Timing**: a few days before "Beady"

**Setting**: a house in a posh Sydney suburb ('tony' is related to 'le bon ton' and basically means 'posh')

## Text

Constable Gibson glances up, stylus poised over his mini-tablet. "And what was taken?"

"A-all o-our cash ... nearly two-hundred-and-fifty dollars—"

Gibson jots.

"—our little Ribot print—"

"That's an art piece?"

The homeowner nods. "It's a family heirloom."

Notes. "Do you have a picture of it?"

"It's on our computer."

Bobs his head. "I'll need a copy in case it shows up on the market."

"O-of course."

"Is anything else missing?"

"Well—it-it's weird. Probably not important, but my knitting bag is gone."

Gibson blinks. "Say that again, please?"

"My knitting: some needles, scissors, and two balls of yarn."

More blinking. "That is the /**weirdest** take I've heard about."

Gibson's sergeant, strolling by, interrupts, "Did I hear there's yarn missing?"

"Yes," replies the homeowner.

"Yarn, cash, and a single print from the wall," adds Gibson.

The sergeant sighs.

"You know who we're looking for?" asks Gibson.

"You'll catch him and get the Ribot back?" chirps the homeowner.

"We'll do our best, but I doubt it, ma'am."

The homeowner hangs her head.

"We call this guy 'The Kitten'—"

"Because of the yarn?" clarifies Gibson.

"Because of the yarn," replies the sergeant. "He steals art to order. Odds are your painting's already in someone's dining room—"

A whimper.

"—but the yarn and the cash are for him."

Gibson glances about. "I'm very sorry, ma'am." Finds a tissue box, offers it.

"Thank you," sniffles the homeowner, taking the box. "I'll email you the picture."

"Thank you, ma'am."

The homeowner nods absently, wanders upstairs.

"So," says Gibson, "we're dealing with a weirdo."

"We're dealing with a real /**pro**. He's been at this four or five years and we've only made a case stick /**once** and, then, we caught him still in the house." Snorts. "After he tripped on a cat, of all things."

"Ironic, that."
Weegie

Language(s)
 Nickname(s)

Weegie is a semi-legendary figure in the Sydney underground whose specialty is electronics, especially surveillance gear, both installing and disabling. She's so good at finding hidden devices, it's claimed she has a sixth sense for them.

For some yet undiscovered reason, she dislikes Logan. However, she tolerates him and helps him identify and remove bugs from his family and friends houses in exchange for being able to keep whatever pieces of PPDC hardware she wants.
On Parting

## Meta

**Timing:** 26 November 2024, the night before the Joneses ship out to Hong Kong

**Setting:** 2nd Darling-Jones house

## Text

The back door opens.

Someone steps inside.

Charlie's out of the too-big bed and down the stairs just as Jackson has his shoes off.

He catches her in a hug. "Hey, Darling," he whispers into her hair.

"Hey, Jones," she croaks.

{"Five months, one week, three days, seventeen hours."}

{"What's that mean?"}

{"Last time we touched."}

{"I stopped counting at 'too long'."}

Jackson [sighs], holds her tighter.

They stay there, breathe together.

But too soon ...

"I need to see the babies."

Charlie doesn't move.

"Charlie ...."

"I know, just ...." She takes a shuddering breath, peels away.

[Jackson looks at her through his lashes, smiles weakly. He pads across the house, up the stairs, down the hallway.

Charlie trails behind.

His hand hovers above the knob to the babies' door. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, squares himself up, pushes open the door. "Hey, beans," he calls softly.

"Mmmmr?" says Book.

Baby sits up, blinks in the light spilling through the door.

"Dad! Why're you here so late?"

"Only time I could get away before I left on a trip," he rasps.

Book brightens. "Where're you going?"

"Hong Kong. In China."

"Will you bring something back for us?"

"I'll try, Monkey, but I might not be able to go shopping. I'm gonna be really busy." He swallows. "An' I won't be, um, back for at least a month. May-maybe longer."

"Aww …."]

Jackson takes her hand. "This's {probably} the last time we'll [see each other. Face-to-face, at least]."

"Wha? Why?"

Lets his head fall onto Charlie's shoulder. "I— Me and Logan won't [... survive this." Swallows. "They're sending us to Hong Kong to d— kill us.]"

"Jackson—"

"'m sorry. We'll do all we can, but I'm not sure— We can't— we're not strong enough {anymore}. We were s'posed to die in September, but—"

"Don't say that—"

"You hafta be ready. You'll need—"

"Shut up! You're not gonna die!"

"I— there's nothing we can do to stop it."

A harsh knock at the door.

"Gimme a minute!" calls Jackson. Holds her more tightly, buries his face in her shoulder. "I don't wanna go. {I don't wanna die.}"

"You don't have to! Maybe Jamie's—"

The rap comes again, louder.

Jackson kisses her neck, straightens. "I'm coming!"

Charlie presses herself as close as she can.

Jackson tucks her under his chin. "Don't want them to break the door down again."

"Could burn the house to cinders for all I care."

A third rap, loudest yet.

"I said, I'm coming!" Jackson cups her cheeks, kisses her.

She covers his hands with hers.

"I'm sorry, Firefly." Jackson entwines their fingers, squeezes, and lets go.

Pats the railing, smiles over his shoulder, goes down the first step.

And the next.

Charlie's pulled along in his wake.

Jackson puts his hand on the doorknob, looks over his shoulder. "I love you," he says softly.

'I know,' mouths Charlie.

He smiles, turns away, and opens the door—laces his fingers behind his head—to a half-circle of rifles and drops to his knees.

The uniformed men on the stoop haul him away.

Charlie closes the door.
Shorties

## Meta

**Timing:** sometime fairly soon after the boys' arrival in Sydney, pre-ankle bracelet

**Setting:** Jones' quarters

## Text

Jackson slinks back into quarters.

Logan doesn't look up from his book.

"Don't. Say. It."

"Don't have to."

Jackson sulks to his room.

Logan turns a page.

""Logan?""

"Yea, Jack."

""/**WHERE** /**THE** /**FUCK** /**ARE** /**MY** /**CLOTHES?!**""

"You didn't need 'em, so I sent them all to the laundry."
Quinn Macrossan

Powerpuff girl turned Ranger

* **Full name:** Quinn Macrossan
* **Pronouns:** She-her-hers
* **Height:** 5'6"
* **Build:** Medium
* **Hair:** Bright blond, straight
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate, Children:** N/A
* **Sibling(s):**
* **Parents:**
* **Birthday:** 31 March 1996 (Townsville, QLD, Australia)
* **Language:** Australian English (mother tongue)
* **Ethnicity:** White Australian

* **Nicknames**
	+ Bubbles: Everyone
* **Relationships:** Yoslene (copilot), Logan (colleague), Blossom (colleague, friend), Jackson (colleague), Herc (colleague), Chuck (colleague), 'the Professor' (fight contract holder)
* **Special skills:**
* **Quirks:**
* **Distinguishing marks:** tends to wear hair in pigtails
* **Accessories:**
Square Pegs arc (meta)

One of the Square Pegs arc's meta pages.

## Getting Changed

Do Jackson and Logan still have belts? shoes? do they get new shoes or do they keep theirs?

Belts are taken as soon as they're in 'custody' (so Logan hasn't had one for a while). Shoes vanish after this and they're given slippers.

Told to leave their shoes behind? Or they have to take them off before Drifting?

Told to leave them behind. (Yay for live collaboration!)

## Freeze arc

### Uniforms

The protocol/the Uniforms' orders are to keep the Joneses within arms' reach or in shackles, especially around non-soldiers like the Drift Science staff.

The guards are under the impression the Joneses are possibly homicidal, not suicidal. The emphasis shifts after the boys prove they really are Drift Compatible.

They're not Code Violets yet; the PTBs save that until after Jackson's first appointment with the Academy shrink. Gives the story some cover, since Jackson will doubtless say that he's distressed, depressed, and maybe even abducted.

## Lightcap

As for what story the PTBs are telling Lightcap and how much of the real story they would trust her with (knowing how likely she is to go into Unstoppable Science Machine mode and just keep talking), they would tell her what she needs to know to do her job well.

The sheer novelty of Ranger babies would be enough to pique her interest in the beans, though.

They'd tell her about his family, and she'll bring it up with Jackson by which time he's gone from 'they've abducted me' to 'desperate to see them'. In order to reconcile this Lightcap with ANSK!Lightcap, she'll be an advocate for sending him home for Book's birthday but it's less for him and more to paint herself as an ally to get to the kids. She's a busy lady and has only skimmed the file at the beginning so she isn't acting yet. Like, in this scene, she gives them the feeling they shouldn't trust her, but if ever they see her again she comes across as almost too good to be true.

And if Jackson confides in her that they're lying about the delusions and paranoia, she'll say something like, "don't say things like that, Cadet, no one will believe you."

"But you do?"

"Of course I do. Your brain doesn't read as paranoid at all. But that's the genius of the plan, isn't it? No one believes a word you say. They could do anything to you and anyone you tell would just dismiss it."

Lightcap knows or at least suspects something's hinky with Jackson's family, but tries to position herself as an ally to get a shot at studying the beans. If she figures out they're being used as leverage, the thought of studying Ranger babies would be enticing enough to have her keep them around (instead of fudging results that would kick them out of the program).

TL;DR, if she knows about leveraging, she doesn't care.
Time to Think

## Meta

Timing: Between "No One Older (Part One)" and "No One Older (Part Two)"

Setting: Charlie's flat

## Text

Juliet hears the garage door open ... the garage door close, the door to the rental suite open, close ....

She returns to her book.

A thud.

Frowns, casts it aside, sprints lightly to the main floor.

Basement door closed but ... unlocked!

Juliet tiptoes down the stairs.

Charlie, in her bedroom, tossing clothes into a bag.

"May I suggest doing that in the morning? When you've had time to think?"

Charlie slams down the shirt, throws herself to her feet, shoves by Juliet into the main room.

"What did he say?"

Charlie's momentum departs. She crosses her arms, tosses her hair, half turns. "'You're only nineteen?'"

"Aw, Christ." Juliet folds into a chair.

Charlie's shoulders hunch; she drifts to the washroom, rests her forehead on the doorframe, "You'd think--" Shudders, face twisting in pain.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie."

She shudders again, hugs herself more tightly.

You Need No One: No One Older (Pt 1) | ****Time to Think**** | No One Older (Pt 2) | Wiser
Not a Date

## Meta

**Timing:** 16 Jun 2015

**Setting:** the 1st coffee shop

## Text

Jackson, deep into his third cup of coffee, checks his watch.

One minute later than the last time he looked.

Seventeen minutes before the [one week] anniversary of the moment he bumped into Charlie.

Checks the bag resting between his feet.

Sighs.

Taps his feet against the floor.

Glowers at his mug, grumbles, "You're not decaf, are you?" Pushes it away.

Checks his watch.

"Hey," says Charlie.

Jackson startles, hops to his feet. "Hey!" Clears his throat. "Hey," he drawls as heat crawls up the back of his neck. Scuttles around the table, pulls out a chair for her.

"I have to go."

"May I buy you a drink—by which I mean hot chocolate—cocoa?"

"You already did."

"Least I could do after spilling it on you. This is ... you know, a proper introduction."

"I've got class."

"You really do—you were talking about a lecture."

She nods indulgently.

"But that's in—" Checks his watch. "—twenty minutes?"

A wrinkle forms between Charlie's eyebrows.

"Last week? When you left, you said—"

She remembers.

"Not like I looked it up or anything, that'd be weird." Jackson rubs his neck. "Even though—It’s—your campus is, uh, right across the street, yea? University of Sydney?" Looks up sheepishly. "I am totally weird. I checked the website, but it was useless."

Her jaw tightens. "It's a school website."

Jackson. doesn't. freak. out. "Good point." Volunteers, "I brought your shirt?"

"Thank you."

Jackson dives for the bag, gets hold of the handles, stands— "/**Dammit!**"

Charlie snorts.

—rubs the back of his head, stands more cautiously, offers the bag. "Good as new."

"Thanks." Accepts the bag, extends one of her own. "Here's your—"

"Keep it."

"Wha{—}?"

"Keep it. The jumper." Jazz hands. "It looks better on you, anyway."

"Thanks."

"The colour looks really nice with your eyes and it fit you pretty well—not that I was—I'll stop digging this hole now." Deep breath. "I've got, like, eleventy billion of them, it's fine—Pardon?"

"Thank you."

"Oh, uh," Jackson ducks his head. "You're welcome." Attempt to lift eyes fails. "Who knows, might be made of boyfriend material."

Her silence speaks volumes—'you /**actually** said that?'

"I actually said that." Covers his face. "I am such a dork."

"See you around." There's a laugh in her voice.

Jackson regroups, smiles. "Bye!" Swallows. "Bye. It's nice to, uh, /**see** you again."

The corner of her mouth—!!!!

"Bye."

Jackson flops back into his chair.

"What was your name again?"

He lights up [and straightens]. "Jackson. Jackson Jones."

Charlie nods and that /may be a smile in her eyes!!!

The bells over the door jingle as she leaves.

Jackson watches her go, sighs happily.
Sweetener

Jackson hands Juliet a glass of iced tea—

She hums thanks, sips daintily.

—folds himself next to her on the blanket under the gum tree.

"How's house husbandry treating you these days?"

Jackson watches Book tear across the backyard, Jupiter in hot pursuit, both laughing madly, with a dopey smile. "Awe/**some**."

Baby pads over, tucks up tightly against Jackson's side.

"Hey, bean." Nuzzles Baby's curls.

Baby coos.

Juliet smiles over the rim of her glass. "I could use you two to sweeten this."

Baby scowls in reply.

Jackson sticks out his tongue.

"Seriously, though, this needs sugar."
Pietr Vos

* **Full name:** Pietr Adriaan Vos

* **Pronouns:** He-him-his
* **Height:** 5'11"
* **Build:** Medium
* **Hair:** Pale blond, curly
* **Eyes:** Brown
* **Lifemate:** Griet (married 24 Dec 2014 in Koffiefontein, FS, South Africa)
* **Children:** Izzy, Anni, Rika, Fenna
* **Sibling(s):** Niko, Maarten
* **Parents:** Val, Rianne
* **Birthday:** 23 April 1996 (Kimberley, NC, South Africa)
* **Language:** British Sign Language (mother tongue), Afrikaans (native lip-reader), English (native lip-reader), South African Sign Language (fluent)
* **Ethnicity:** White South African (nearly 100% Dutch ancestry)
* **Nicknames**
	+ Piet: Griet, Val, Rianne, Niko, Maarten, Dafne, many extended family members
	+ Dandelion: Griet
	+ Dad: Izzy, Anni, Rika, Fenna
	+ Fluffhead: Logan
* **Text ID:** p\_a\_vos
* **Relationships:** Charlie (friend), Jackson (friend), Logan (friend), Chuck (adopted brother), Jamie (friend), Andrea (friend), Derek (friend), Book (adopted nibling), Baby (adopted nibling), Jupiter (adopted nibling), Tsuki (friend, co-worker), Tufo (co-worker), Vulcan Chief (boss)
* **Special skills:** very adept at reading body language, makes everyone feel like family
* **Quirks:** always falls asleep in moving vehicles,
* **Distinguishing marks:**
Purple Kaiju Beater

China's Mark-Vs are a variety of purples. They have a sword of some sort (originally with which to separate Otachi from its head, except it would be frozen by the EMP. But it still has a sword or dagger).

It wouldn't be a chain sword, though, that's a Mako Mori exclusive. The sword symbolism isn't as important in this AU as the power dynamic's different.
Snicket

Logan's post-war familiar and daemon

* **Full name:** Snicket
* **Pronouns:** He-him-his
* **Build:** Light
* **Hair:** Grey tabby
* **Eyes:** Copper
* **Lifemate:** Logan
* **Children:** N/A
* **Sibling(s), Parents:** Unknown
* **Birthday:** Unknown
* **Language:** Cat
* **Nicknames:**
	+ Cat, Furball, Fuzzball, Fuzzy: Logan
* **Relationships:** Baby (bud), Button (bud), Rika (colleague), Fenna (colleague), Jupiter (colleague), Chuck (nemesis), Max (pillow), Book (friend), Jackson (friend), Charlie (friend), Derek (friend), Andrea (friend), Jason (friend), Nanny (friend), Liu (threat), Pietr (friend), Griet (friend), Izzy (friend), Anni (friend), Blossom (friend)
* **Special skills:** Able to enter and exit any building (perhaps using portals) no matter how securely sealed; does a mean drop bear impression; a great hot water bottle and massager
* **Quirks:** Dislikes kisses and high-pitched noises
* **Distinguishing marks:**

Snicket cuddling.
Puddles

Someone knocks.

Derek jumps.

Takes a deep breath.

Counts to five.

Answers the door.

A young woman stands on the step, hair plastered to her head and glasses askew. She raises a soaked-jumper-covered hand. "Hi."

"Hi?"

"Puggle!" cries Book, tearing through Derek's legs—

"No!"

"Eep!"

/*Splosh*

—and straight to the puddle at the end of the drive.

"Can I—"

"I'm fine," she assures, picking herself out of the bush.

"Thank— you can, uh, if you wanna get outta the rain?"

"Thank you."

"I, uh, need to get Book back."

"Oh. Right."

"Umm, 'scuse me?"

"Sorry!"

They squeeze past each other in the doorway.

"They were /**threatened**. They threatened to kill Baby, for f-fuck's sake, if Jack didn't sign on."

"The baby?" Andrea's voice shoots up an octave.

Derek nods.

Andrea's head shakes. "The PPDC wouldn't do that, they're good people who listen—"

Major Harry in a cardboard box.

\*\*\*

Derek sets a cup down beside the toilet. "It's peppermint," he explains.

"They killed my friend," Andrea croaks.

Derek looks down.

"I mean, I think they did but I'm pretty sure—" She retches. "She left her teddy bear behind and she was going to talk to them—" Andrea bids farewell to yesterday's dinner. "She was going to talk to them and now she's gone and she left Major Harry behind." She retches again.

Derek rubs her back. "What was she gonna talk to them about?"

"The new VS team. The Joneses—" What colour she had drains away. "I'm talking—She was going to talk to them about the Joneses and I told her I thought something was wrong and she said she'd talk to them about it and she's gone and I'm talking about—" She's sick again.

Derek worries the hem of his shirt.

"I'm gonna quit."

"Pardon?"

"I'm gonna quit. They can't make me gone if I quit."

"What'll you do?"

She thinks.

Derek adjusts the teacup.

"I'll help you." Like it's the most brilliant solution to ever be thunk.

"You'll have to talk to Charlie and she won't be happy you're here."

"Oh dear god—" Andrea throws up.
Pattern

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</noinclude>

A polite cough from the door of her suite.

Blossom jumps, book (something involving elves and faster-than-light travel) flying.

"Sorry," says Tang Jung, retrieving the book. "Just wanted to check if you need anything." Offers it.

Blossom accepts, tucks it aside. "No ... no, I'm fine."

"Cool beans. I'll leave you to your reading, then."

"Wait."

Tang Jung waits.

"Could--" Swallows. "Could you make an appointment with the obstetrician for me?"

Tang Jung nods. "What should I tell her it's for?"

Deep breath. "Prenatal care. I ...."

Tang Jung pulls over a chair, takes Blossom's hand.

Blossom smiles in relief, whispers, "I want my baby."

Tang Jung squeezes gently.

"Thanks." Wipes her eyes, hiccups a laugh. "This runs in my family, ye know."

"Tell me, if you want."

"Gramma ... they--her family--shipped her to Australia from Shanghai, married her off to a family friend who didn't have time to find a wife on his own. Four months pregnant."  Deep breath. "Lover wouldn't marry her; she wouldn't have an abortion. So."

Contemplative pause.

"She sounds like an amazing person."

"Yea, she is." Blossom rubs her eyes. "Pretty much raised five kids on her own." Chuckles. "Takes no shit, either."

"Aha!"

Blossom raises an eyebrow.

"That's where you get it from!"

"You don't even know me yet."

"That you stood up to Teng Ya and got a modern book out of the library is enough for me."

A laugh bursts out and Blossom leans against Tang Jung's side.

Tang Jung hugs her head and giggles.
Spoons

## Meta

**Timing:** January-ish 2015, before "At First Sight", shortly after Bubbles and Blossom arrive in Sydney

**Setting:** Bubbles' and Blossom's flat

## Text

Bubbles towels her hair dry, humming tunelessly.

The door bolt /*sneck*s.

Door opens.

Door closes.

Shuffling footsteps.

Futon /*fump*s.

Bubbles wanders out of the washroom.

There's Blossom, face-down on the futon.

"No luck?"

""Mro."" Blossom drags her face around. "People suck."

Bubbles snorts. "Not /**all** pe—"

"Don't. Start."

Plops beside Blossom. "What happened?"

Angry sigh. "First one didn't look above my collar—"

"Creep."

"—second said my handwriting meant I wasn't 'creative' enough—"

"Nutloaf."

"—and the third flat told me I only got an interview to fill the diversity quota."

"You should've punched their ass."

Frustrated noise.

Bubbles pats her shoulder. "It'll get—"

"Don't. Start." Wails, "I wanna work!"

Eases herself down, presses herself against Blossom. "You'll find something and I'm making enough for both—"

Flops over on her other side, snuffles. "I don't wanna be kept like your pet."

Bubbles wraps her arms around Blossom, tucks her under her chin. "But you'd make such an /**adorable** pet."

Blossom—gently—elbows her in the ribs.

"How about 'consort'? Is 'consort' better?"

"No." Yawns.

Bubbles stretches up, flicks off the light.

"Wha?"

"Bedtime for Blossom and Bubbles."

A bigger yawn. "'kay."

"You wanna get out of your clothes?"

"Too sleepy. And comfy."

"Cool, cool." Snuggles closer. "Sweet dreams, pet."

Blossom—gently—elbows her in the ribs.

Bubbles giggles.

Huffs.

Blossom's out almost immediately. And snoring. Loudly.

Bubbles rolls her eyes, heaves a long-suffering sigh.
Tea Service

Andrea knocks on the door to the marshal's office with her forehead.

A sigh.

Her heart stutters.

Tapping.

That's not like Chantell.

"P-perrrmiss-ion t-t'enter."

"Granted."

Andrea pushes through with her hip.

That /really isn't Chantell.

"Good afternoon, Mx ...?"

"Officer Hill. I-I brought you tea."

The new equerry blinks. "That's so nice of you—"

Major Harry sits in a cardboard box along with Chantell's pastel sticky notes.

"—k you, Officer."

Andrea smiles, sets down the tray. "Milk or sugar?"

"Just sugar, please."

Andrea nods, pours tea. "Have you temped before?"

"Excuse me?"

"Have you filled in for Officer Nguyen on another occasion?"

"Uh, no; she quit."

"Here you are," Andrea hands over the new equerry's tea.

They smile gratefully, takes a sip. "Thank you."

Andrea smiles, steps back. "Would you like me to take the tray back?"

"That's fine, thank you. Marshal Wills'll want some, too." The new equerry sips, hums. "This's /perfect."

"You're very welcome. Have a good day."

"Thanks, you, too. Close the door behind you, please."

"Of course." Andrea bows carefully, leaves.

Well, apparently, she won't be talking this over with anyone.

Straight to the source, then.

Andrea heads to the bus station.
Rika Vos

The eldest of The Flock.

* **Full name:** Rika TBD Vos
* **Pronouns:** She-her-hers
* **Height:**
* **Build:**
* **Hair:** Pale blond, curly
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate, Children:** N/A
* **Sibling(s):** Izzy, Anni, Fenna
* **Parents:** Pietr, Griet
* **Birthday:** 28 September 2021
* **Language:** Australian English (mother tongue), BSL (native speaker)
* **Nicknames:** N/A
* **Text ID:** N/A
* **Relationships:**
* **Special skills:** instinctual synchronized movements with her sister Fenna and Jupiter Darling-Jones
* **Quirks:**
* **Distinguishing marks:**
River

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</noinclude>

Jason pretends to read, watching the tide of fangeeks and cosplayers ebb and flow, sighs contentedly.

They're so pretty! squees Lachlan.

Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus stroll by, arm-in-arm.

The Twelfth Doctor stops and asks for an autograph.

Jellly baaaabies~

A gaggle of Deadpools shuffle past, pointing and whispering.

One of them wolf-whistles.

Jason winks, waves.

Lachlan glows warm. I love you.

Deadpools blow kisses.

He shakes his head, turns his attention to his ereader and the adventures of Eueduranki, chief vampire hunter of Sumer.

Lachlan cheers—

——You always cheer for the bad guys, you coot.

Lachlan laughs.

"Hi, Jason!" chirps a tiny voice.

Jason looks up, smiles warmly. "'ey, Button."

"/**River**," corrects Button. "I'm in costume." He pirouettes, floaty blue dress flaring dramatically—then loses his footing and goes down in a swirl of chiffon.

"Of course, sorry," grins Jason. "You look great, River."

Button beams, untangles himself, scrambles up onto the table at Jason's elbow. "I /**tried** to grow my hair out, but it was too /**slow**. And Mum wouldn't let me carry an axe."

Jason snorts. "I think there's a minimum age for edged weapons here."

"They let the adults have /**guns**," pouts Button. "Jayne even has /**grenades**."

"Full of snacks," points out Jason.

Button huffs, then blinks, brightens. "Can I borrow your cane?"

"You're not planning on swinging it like a quarterstaff, are you?"

Button ducks his head. "Noooo ...."

"I know your monk's been showing you some tricks—"

"Okay, okay." Crosses his arms, swings feet in stompy black boots. 「You're no fun.」

"I'm trying to keep you from being thrown out."

Button goggles, squeaks, 「You speak Cantonese?!」

Jason smirks. 「Enough.」

"/**Cool!**" Leans forward. "Where'd you—"

Han Solo sidles up, greets, "Hi, River!"

"Hi!" pipes Button.

Solo turns to Jason. "Can I take a picture of your little badass?"

Button glows.

"No, you can't. Don't want anything but professional shots out there." Jason ruffles Button's wig—

Button squawks, tugs it straight.

—smirks. "We're hoping for a modeling career for our little sweetheart and don't want to dilute his brand."

Solo blinks rapidly. "But they said he—" Snaps their mouth closed and turns white as Stormtrooper armour.

"You okay there, Captain? You suddenly don't look so good."

"I—" Solo swallows. "I think I just need a little air. Air. Right. Good." Spins on a booted heel and scuttles away.

「Nice work,」 says Button.

「Thanks,」 replies Jason. "That worked almost as well as the old Jedi mind trick."

Button adopts his most serious tone, swipes his hand at eye level. 「This is not the kid you're looking for.」

Jason chuckles. "Good thing the Force has a strong influence on the weak-minded."

"Yup!" Button leans over the edge of the table, peeks into the bag tucked next to Jason's leg. "Got any snacks?"