recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Griet Vos

Transplanted South African; love of Pietr's life and mother of Izzy, Anni, Rika, and Fenna

* **Full name:** Griet Madelief Vos (nee Naude)
* **Pronouns:** She-her-hers
* **Height:** 5'4"
* **Build:** Medium (tending to heavy)
* **Hair:** Ash blond, straight
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate:** Pietr Vos (married 24 December 2014)
* **Children:** Izzy, Anni, Rika, Fenna
* **Sibling(s):** Dafne Naude
* **Parents:** Isaac, Dael
* **Birthday:** 21 December 1996
* **Language:** Afrikaans (mother tongue), BSL (native speaker), English (fluent), Sotho (limited phrases)
* **Nicknames**
	+ Honeybee: Pietr
* **Text ID:** JASMYNTEE
* **Relationships:** Charlie (friend), Andrea (friend), Chuck (adopted family), Val (father-in-law), Rianne (mother-in-law), Derek (friend), Jackson (friend), Book (adopted nibling), Baby (adopted nibling), Jupiter (adopted nibling)
* **Special skills:** the only person who can regularly beat Pietr at Pokemon
* **Quirks:**
* **Distinguishing marks:** hair always done up with ribbons
Intervention

"Charlie," says Juliet.

"Yea?"

"You know I love you, right?"

"What're you 'intervening'?"

"You know I love you."

Charlie huffs. "Yes, I know you love me. I love you, too. You're my best friend."

"Okay." Juliet takes a deep breath. "It's more like what I'm not intervening." Frowns. "That was awkward."

"'m not doing a whole lot anymore."

Juliet deflates—"You already know?"

"Yea."

"Don't you want to do something about it?"

"Tired."

Juliet swallows.

Charlie sorta shrugs. "Stress." Turns her nose up a bit. "Getting old."

"You're twenty-eight. That's not old."

"'n yet." Charlie sighs. "Doctor says there's nothing wrong with me."

"Which doctor?"

"Boo!"

Juliet groans, flops back.

Charlie almost laughs, then her sparkle fades. "Shatterdome doctor."

"Maybe it's time for a second opinion?"

"Got one. Still fine." Charlie tucks a leg up close.

"Could I maybe do an independent blood test?"

Charlie raises an eyebrow.

"I know people."

Charlie's eyebrow remains raised.

"I—" Juliet frowns. "Just believe me?"

"How do I know the results're right?"

Juliet counts to five and whacks Charlie with a pillow.

Charlie stuffs it to her stomach.

"I am not going to take offense to that, nor am I going to hold that against you."

Charlie's forehead wrinkles.

"I'm your /**best** /**friend**. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Even if you wanted someone to go out with and went the easy route with a pre-existing friend instead of making a new one."

Juliet counts to five again. Takes a deep breath. "I should really slap you."

Charlie shrugs.

"Are you even listening to what you're saying?"

Charlie puts her shoulders back, raises her chin.

"Do you hear what you're saying? I would never—we're /**friends**, Charlie—" Tried that tactic, didn't work. Deep breath.

Charlie remains confrontational.

Another deep breath. "I have /**no** ulterior motive besides making you feel better." Sits properly. "Christ, I could never see you again and still go through with this."

Charlie leans her head on Juliet's shoulder.

"Does this mean I can go for it?"

"Sure."
Freeze

Logan
 adds a shorter walk and three turns to his mental map; they're marched
into a bathroom, through another door, and into a shower zone. Spots a
single a bar of soap and two face cloths.

"Ten minutes," states a Uniform and then they leave.

Jackson sighs, stoops to work on his socks.

A red light blinks to green.

"Jack—"

Cold water sprays forth.

Logan fumbles for temperature control, turns it all the way to hot—

If he believes it—which he doesn't—this's as warm as it gets.

He yanks it to 'cold'.

Jackson whines, scuttles out, but that'll just make it worse.

Logan
 wrenches it back to 'warm', stands with his back to the spray, tries to
 block as much as he can. "Stand up, Jack. Get cleaned up."

"You're kidding, ay?"

"'m not kidding. They want us clean, we'll get clean." Nudges Jackson with his foot. "You'll feel better, too."

"I'll freeze!"

"So take your clothes off."

"I am going to freeze!"

"Take your damp clothes off--" Snatches up the soap. "--and soak up the wet spots." Tosses the bar--

Jackson scrambles.

"Do something about that stink, while you're at it."

Jackson glowers, retreats further into the corner, but actually starts on his jumpsuit.

Logan
 twists into the spray, grabs the shower head, aims as far from Jack as
it'll go but the space's barely big to move around in, Jack's getting
paler, they have eight minutes left, and he still has puke on his
sleeve.
Geezers

## Meta

**Timing:** 3 October 2022, lunchtime

**Setting:** Shed canteen, Jones' quarters

## Text

Their seventh day in the Shatterdome Logan and Jackson risk a lunch outside their quarters.

The [canteen] falls silent when they enter.

Logan identifies the exits.

Folks won't meet his eye and look away quickly.

He strolls to the meal line, Jackson trying to be invisible in his shadow.

People walking veer to avoid them and those in line move just beyond arms' reach.

Word's gotten around.

Logan snickers.

The space bubble expands another foot or so in diameter.

He rolls his eyes.

Trays full, they make for the very edge of /*Vulcan Specter* territory.

The crew shuffles closer together—and farther from them—as he and Jackson walk by.

One tech realizes where they're going, hisses something, and the tablemates flee from their place by the wall, tossing nervous looks over their shoulders.

Logan snorts, pulls Jackson down beside him, and digs in.

Jackson sighs and pokes at some salad.

"Jack, you gotta eat."

A noncommittal grunt.

"I'm not carrying you back from the gym if you faint."

That gets him a snort and Jackson a mouthful of lettuce.

Logan nods and turns back to his meal.

They've reached their brownies when a shadow falls across the them.

Jackson pointedly ignores the source.

Logan tenses.

"/**You're** my backup?" sneers Chuck Hansen.

Jackson nibbles his dessert.

Logan tears his in half.

"Command must be getting desperate if they rushed you through."

Jackson's brownie is gone.

Logan's is in quarters.

"How old're you geezers, anyway?"

Jackson sets his napkin and cutlery on his mostly empty tray, studies his hands.

Logan's moved on to sixteenths.

Chuck snorts. "You'll probably break hips on your first drop." Crosses his arms, puts his shoulders back. "You should be home playing with your grandki—"

Jackson squeezes [his eyes shut].

Logan jumps over the table, grabs Chuck by the throat, slams him against the wall.

Chuck gurgles, claws at Logan's arm.

"Don't push your luck, Chuckles," he growls. "We can take care of ourselves." Gives Chuck a shake. "/**And** you." Lets go, takes a step back.

Chuck wheezes, rubs his throat—

Logan waits—

—lunges—

—ducks Chuck's punch, knocks his legs from under him—

—hits the ground hard, tries to roll clear—

—kicks him once in the gut—

—curls up, gasping.

—waits.

Chuck lurches to his feet, throws another, wilder haymaker—

Jackson steps between them, deflects Chuck's fist, and tows Logan from the [canteen] by the elbow.

Back in their rooms, Jackson perches on the couch. "Did you have to do that?"

"He shouldnt've taken that shot." Logan settles beside him.

Jackson sighs. "He doesn't know."

Logan huffs.

"He'll try you again."

"'course."

"Reminds me of you, a little."

Logan sniffs. "I knew better than to pick a fight I couldn't win at his age."

Jackson rubs his face, mumbles, "That's why we're here."

Logan winces. Takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back.
Briefing

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</noinclude>

Logan trails Gagnon, mentally mapping yet /**another** identical corridor.

"We're heading to the Team VS auditorium; all your meetings with the team leaders will happen there," explains Gagnon over his shoulder.

Logan grunts.

Jack stops walking to double over with a cough.

Logan halts, sighs.

Gagnon stops, looks on with genuine concern. "I'll book you an appointment with Medical to get that checked out." Taps a note into his tablet. "Sounds like it's gone to your chest."

"Thanks," croaks Jack, straightening.

"Right through here." Gagnon gestures to a standard door in a standard wall opening onto—surprise, surprise—a large, standard room. "Sit wherever you like."

Logan snorts, slopes in, chooses a seat near the door, pushes Jack into the next chair.

Jack folds, sniffles, fishes in a pocket for a tissue.

Gagnon perches on Jack's other side, keeps poking and swiping away.

Jack honks.

Logan rolls his eyes, watches his 'teammates' file in.

He spots the pattern right away: every newcomer chooses the open seat farthest from him and Jack.

He leans closer to Jack, whispers, "Our reputation precedes us."

Jack blearily scans the room, sighs.

Gradually, the bubble of empty space around them shrinks to the two places nearest Logan.

A handful of people in team grey hover in the doorway.

One aims for the open spots, blond, fluffy curls springing like B—

"Pietr!" hisses a black person, tugging the curly-top's sleeve.

Pietr turns.

More hissing.

Pietr shrugs—

Black person jazz-hands, watches wide-eyed.

—ambles over, drops in beside Logan, smiling warmly and waving.

Logan pointedly ignores them, keeps eyes on the front of the room.

In his peripheral, Pietr frowns.

A tiny thing slinks—hunched up like Derek—in through the door near the front with an armload of thick, grey binders. They slide the stack onto the front table—

""Thanks, Officer Hill,"" says the person-in-charge.

—[jumps], squeaks, and flees.

Logan snorts.

""Alright, everybody! Listen up!"" Person-in-charge hollers.

Murmuring dies away.

""Our first patrol deployment in six months starts at fourteen-hundred /**this** /**afternoon**, people. Everything needs to be /**perfect** for our Rangers and it's down to you lot to make it so.""

Jack chuckles weakly.

Logan rolls his eyes, mumbles, "Nerd."
ES Series (meta)

Middleweight Mark IV units bridging the gap between the versatile GD and SE series. Most notable armament is a pair of retractable, cauterizing blades.

## ES-02

* **Name:** *Echo Saber*
* **Home 'Dome:** Tokyo
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:** Kita Momoko (RH), Yukimura Keiko (LH)
* **Team colour:**
* **Entered service:**
* **Removed from service:**

## ES-07

* **Name:** *Eclipse [Serein]*
* **Home 'Dome:** Sydney
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:**
* **Team colour:**
* **Entered service:**
* **Removed from service:**
Multiverse

## Only Logan Lives

My impression is that 'useless' former Rangers (like Tamsin) are hooked up with proper medical care (decent PR) and forgotten about. Former Rangers who have damaging stories to tell (the surviving original /Vulcan Specter Ranger Egan) tend to disappear or be rendered unthreatening.

\*adds to notes\* In the 'verses where Logan survives, does he end up as one of these "rendered unthreatening" folk?

I think, in those rare universes, Logan is 'unthreatening' but intact. He knows the score with these bastards and the thing he's best at is staying alive. If keeping his mouth shut and his head very far down is the price of staying alive, that's what he'll do. He's not going to be compelled to get revenge or fight the power like Jackson might. And all of that is very clear in his psych profile. So, once he breaks himself out of the hospital and's in the wind, they just let him go. And he stays very, very gone.

Very, very gone from both the PPDC and the Darling-Jones? (Do the Darlings find themselves with an extra, half-starved pair of hands one morning?)

I'm having a hard time seeing exactly how gone he'd get. I think it sorta depends on how much of Jackson's family-protect feelings Logan absorbs and what he knows about the PPDC's intentions for him and the rest of his clan are. If the PTBs are content to leave him and the Darling-Joneses alone if he keeps his mouth shut, he'll probably stay close to and in contact with them and be very, very model citizen. If the PPDC is out to get him, he burns all bridges and vanishes completely. If the PTBs are threatening the Darling-Joneses, he probably does what he can to protect them.

I wish I had more to say than \*adds to font\* or 'Good to know' but I don't >\_<
Funnied-up

(Wash and Jackson have been ushered from the room for pictures of just the two of them, leaving Baby and Book (and probably some adult (minder?) but they didn't do anything so.) alone with Logan.

Another black, clunky thing sprawls on a shhhshie blob chair.

"Bet that's Logan," Book whispers loudly.

Baby frowns.

"C'mon." Book takes Baby's hand and bounces over.

Book climbs up first.

Baby clambers onto the clunky thing's foot, uses a leg piece to push up a little higher.

Book grabs the back of [the jumper Baby’s wearing] and hauls them both over off balance.

They untangle themselves and Baby crawls across the clunky thing's chest.

Book taps its head. "See? It's just Logan all funnied-up like Dad."

That /**does** look like Logan.

"Guess he's tired," says Book, and then a very big grin creeps in. "Wanna wake him up?"

Baby matches it.

Book giggles.

Baby investigates.

The clunky thing is fabric-y between the clunky bits.

Baby pokes one of those in between places. Somewhere elbow-y.

The clunky thing grunts.

Book giggles again, pokes a neck-y spot.

The clunky thing grumbles.

Baby pokes a wrist-y place.

The clunky thing almost swats.

Book jabs at a rib-ish spot.

The clunky thing ROARS to life—

They shriek and tumble off the shhhshie blob chair.

The clunky thing sits back down, pulls off its head—

It /**is** Logan.

—says, "It's just me."

"I knew!" chirps Book.

Baby sorta knew?

"Can I sleep now?"

They nod.

Logan leans back, mumbles, "Crazy beans."
Captain Awesome

And then some little cabal of troublemakers ALL deciding to be 'Captain Awesome' for the same week…

Langlie closes the door behind her and stands there for a moment.

Isfahan caps her highlighter.

"We have six kids preferring 'Captain Awesome' this week," Fiona says tightly.

"Greeeat." Isfahan shuffles her papers. "What's Miss Carter doing about it?"

"Gave everyone a different sticker and amended their titles."

That afternoon...

Book quite nearly leaps onto Charlie. "Mum! Look" Shows off the puffy sticker. "I'm a giraffe!"
A Way

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</noinclude>

「Good afternoon, Cousin,」 greets Blossom, carefully cradling Button's head as she bows.

「Good afternoon, Miss Blossom.」 Liu indicates the other chair at the table.

Blossom shuffles over, sits gingerly. "Thanks for the extra cushion."

Liu acknowledges, places a cup of tea and a plate of cookies before her.

「Thank you.」 Selects a dainty and nibbles.

"If you were to visit Australia," says Liu, "with whom would you like to meet?"

"Bubbles," Blossom replies immediately.

Liu nods.

"My parents."

Liu nods again.

"And Button's f—" It dies on her tongue.

"Button's family of the immediate variety?" Liu offers.

"Yea." Nuzzles Button's cheek.

He snuffles, wraps his fingers around a lock of Blossom's hair.

Liu sips.

Blossom works open the tiny fist, offers a finger as a substitute.

Button takes hold, yawns.

Blossom blinks rapidly, wipes her eyes on her shoulder. "It wouldn't be Blossom Collocott visiting Australia, though; it'd be Wei Tang Lan."

"Mhmm."

"Won't it look odd if my parents take a sudden interest in some random Chinese chick and her baby?"

Liu considers.

Button squirms, grumps.

Blossom strokes his fuzzy head.

An enormous yawn and Button settles.

"How do you feel about being married for a week?"

"Wha?"

"Beginning with a quiet civil ceremony in Townsville which your parents will attend as the guests of members of your spouse-to-be's family."

"Oookay?"

"You can be just as quietly divorced when you return to China."

"O-okay." Blossom shifts Button against her shoulder—

Button sighs.

—kisses his crown, looks up through her lashes. "Could you find me a fake husband who's pretty?"

"It may be difficult to locate a spouse who measures up to your yardstick of beauty."

Blossom swallows, wipes her eyes again.

"However, I will do my best," says Liu reassuringly.

She nods.

"The others will be easier to approach than your parents."

Blossom raises an eyebrow. "Easier. Easier to visit two people under surveillance inside military bases."

An eyebrow arches.

Blossom snorts. "Why do I ever doubt you?"

Liu smiles faintly, takes a deep draught of tea.
GD Series (meta)

A Mark-III series, designed as close combat fighters with limited burst capacity and very limited distance weapons

## GD-05

* **Name:** *Gipsy Danger*
* **Home 'Dome:** Anchorage
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:** Yancy Becket (RH), Raleigh Becket (LH)
* **Team colour:** Dusty blue (4e6078)
* **Entered service:** July 2017
* **Removed from service:** March 2020

## GD-19

* **Name:** *Griffin Defiant*
* **Home 'Dome:** Anchorage
* **Origin:** Rebuilt GD-05
* **Pilots:**
* **Team colour:**
* **Entered service:** July 2021
* **Removed from service:** November 2023

## GD-34

* **Name:** *Gipsy Danger*
* **Home 'Dome:** Anchorage
* **Origin:** Rebuilt GD-19
* **Pilots:** Raleigh Becket (RH), Mako Mori (LH)
* **Team colour:** Dusty blue (4e6078)
* **Entered service:** January 2025
* **Removed from service:** January 2025
Good Chinese Boy

Setting
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Rowan bursts into her Pang Xia's flat, hollering, "Mama!"

""Do not yell at your mama!"" Pang Xia calls back.

Rowan rushes to the front room. "Mama, that wedding I was invited to? Blossom—[/**our**] Blossom—was the bride!"

Pang Xia crosses her arms, scolds, "Do not lie to your mama."

"I'm not lying, Mama. It really /**was** Blossom." Fumbles her mobile from her bag, opens the camera app, crouches next to Pang Xia's chair, offers a view of the screen. "See?"

Blossom, smiling warmly, wearing a pretty pink dress and a crown of flowers.

Pang Xia's eyes prick and presses her palms together in front of her mouth.

Rowan swipes slowly through a few more images.

Pang Xia dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. She swallows. "She has married a good Chinese boy?"

"Yes, Mama," sighs Rowan. "He's originally from [place in China], but he's working in Townsville for a bit." Flips through to a picture of Blossom arm-in-arm with a beaming young person in a suit and tie.

"Good, good," nods Pang Xia. "This is good. What is her young man's name?"

"Wei Tang—"

Pang Xia hisses.

Rowan rocks back on her heels. "What, Mama?"

"No good! All Tangs in this country are no good!" Her hands flutter. "Criminals!"

Rowan rolls her eyes. "[temporary spouse's name] is a hydraulic engineer. He's not—"

"All Tangs here are criminals! [Shanghaiese/Chinese term for mafia]! She should not have married this boy!"

"Well, it's too late to worry about that now."

"She should have talked to her gramma first."

"Of course, Mama." Rowan pat-pats Pang-Xia's arm. "But, look, she has a baby, too!" Swipes.

Pang Xia doesn't look, mouth thinning. "This Tang made her pregnant?"

"No, Mama. Someone else did."

Pang Xia /*hmph*s, keeps not looking.

Rowan sighs. "Mama, look at your great-grandson." Waggles the mobile.

Pang Xia flicks her eyes— seizes the mobile from Rowan, coos. "He is very, very cute," she declares.

Rowan grins. "His name is Yun."

"Good name," approves Pang Xia. She swipes, squees. "Yun is the sweetest baby!" Swipes, squints. "Even though his papa is white."

"Why do you say that?" Rowan squints at the screen.

Pang Xia points. "The jaw ... and the ears."

"I don't know how you can tell."

"Trust your mama. She knows these things." Swipes. "Will she have more babies?"

"She didn't seem to be planning for more."

Pang Xia frowns. "She should have babies with her pretty Chinese husband—" Wrinkles her nose. "—even if he is a Tang."

Rowan sighs. "You can nag her—"

"Give her good advice."

"—all you want over email. She gave me an address where we can write her."

Pang Xia beams. "Give it to me, please. I will write her /**right** now."

"I'll email it to you when you give me my mobile back." Takes—

Pang Xia hisses, curls protectively around the mobile. "I will finish looking at great-grandbaby Yun first."

"Of course, Mama."
Herc Hansen

Australia's longest-serving Jaeger pilot

* **Full name:** Hercules Donovan Hansen
* **Pronouns:** He-him-his
* **Height:** 6'1"
* **Build:** Medium
* **Hair:** Red, straight
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate:** Angela Hansen (deceased)
* **Child:** Chuck
* **Sibling(s):** Scott Hansen
* **Parents:** Donovan and Tess Hansen
* **Birthday:** 10 November 1980 (Pyla, Cyprus)
* **Language:** Australian English (native speaker)
* **Ethnicity:** White Australian (Northern Irish ancestry)
* **Nicknames**
	+ Herc: everyone
	+ Old Hansen: Logan
* **Relationships:** Chuck (copilot), Scott (copilot), Stacker (friend, copilot), Tamsin (friend), Jackson (colleague), Logan (colleague), Bubbles (colleague), Wills (commander)
* **Special skills:**
* **Quirks:** twists his wedding ring when anxious or reminded of Angela or Chuck
* **Distinguishing marks:** tattoo on his right arm
Hide

The second time Jacknlogan are taken away, this time halfway through the day, Book and Baby don't cry and they don't scream.

Baby wants to, though.

The gray people'll come and take Baby away and fill Baby's head with nasty thoughts.

So, at playtime, Baby crawls into a playhouse after some older kids and settles in a corner (the other kids don't notice). They leave when the bell rings, but Baby doesn't.

Baby crawls into the corner with the fireplace 'cause the chimney makes the roof harder to open on that side.

Baby waits.

Storytime starts; someone with a picture book crawls in. Someone with blond, curly hair.

"May I?"

Baby draws inward.

"Are you hiding?"

Baby becomes steel.

A knock on the door.

""Izzy?""

"Yea?" Izzy drops open the book, throws a blanket over Baby, and leans back against Baby and then … isn't.

The door opens.

[""Is Baby in there?""

""Just me, Miss Fiona,"" replies Izzy, leaning back.

""What book are you reading?""

"/*Matilda Goes to Camp*," answers Izzy.

""That's a little easy for you, isn't it?""

""I like Matilda.""

""I'm glad. Have fun, Izzy.""

""Thank you, Miss Fiona!""

""You're welcome, bye!""

The door closes.

A beat.

""Are you comfy back there?"" whispers Izzy.

Baby nods against his back.

Izzy leans forward.

Something lands against Baby.

Izzy settles back against the something. ""I got you a pillow.""]

Baby swallows a lump, nods again.
New South Wales (meta)

## Sydney

The premiere of Mad Max: Fury Road in Sydney was heralded by the cast roaring down the Cahill Expressway in full costume.

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-05-13/mad-max-film-premiere-road-convoy-in-central-sydney/6465890

## School

### Terms

The NSW public system has four terms of  around 10 weeks, with a week or two break between each term, and six weeks for summer holidays. I believe this may be the national standard, too.

* **Term 1**: from the end of January (usually just after Australia Day - 26th Jan) to Easter.
* **Easter Holidays**: starting Good Friday, at least one week, sometimes two.
* **Term 2**: post-Easter until early-mid July.
* **July School Holidays (Winter Holidays)**: 1-2 weeks depending on how long the Easter Holidays were.
* **Term 3**: July - late September: usually to the third week in September.
* **September Holidays**: usually incorporates the October Long Weekend before going back to school
* **Term 4**: October - mid-December: pretty much to the Wednesday the week before Christmas. It varies.
* **Summer holidays**: from mid-December through to the end of January.

The private school system follows this pattern but usually has an extra week of holidays at each break. However they also have longer days (8:15am-3pm, rather than 9pm-3:15pm), and more extracurricular activities.

### Dress Code

All schoolchildren in Australia wear uniforms. There’s usually a summer and a winter version. Private schools have rules about this - some may have rules about skirt lengths for girls (at least one of the Catholic schools I recall required skirts to be below the knee: they were basically bags. The Anglican/Presbyterian schools didn’t require it below the knee, but I suspect there was a “minimum length” that was significantly longer than “enough to cover your underpants” - not “panties”, “underpants” although more likely “undies”. Note: most private schools are run by religious organisations - whether Christian affiliated or, in recent years, Muslim affiliated.) Public schools are less obsessive about this - there’s more room for ‘personal touches’ but they still require the basic uniform to be worn, or else you need a note from your parents stating why you’re not in uniform. Additional note: “because my child is a speshul snowflake” is not an acceptable reason. JSYK.

http://shmoo92.tumblr.com/post/87749090613/tielan-silverblaze85-tielan
Doomed

## Meta

**Timing:** ~2036-2037, Button's 12 or 13; so Sean would be 16 or 17.

**Setting:** Sean's bedroom at The Village

## Text

Something scratches, thumps at Sean's window.

Sean digs his head deeper into his pillow.

""Sean!""

Sounds human—

""Sean! Please!""

—and familiar.

Sean rolls over, shoves open the curtains.

Yun waves frantically from his perch on an impossibly skinny tree branch.

Sean pushes open the window. "Wha—"

"Hide me!" squeaks Yun, diving through.

"Th' fuck?" Sean rubs his eyes, looks around the room.

No Yun.

Shuffling from under the bed.

Sean bends and peers under the frame.

The soles of Yun's shoes.

Sean grabs an ankle—he's pretty sure it's an ankle—and yanks.

Yun's bottom half appears, kicking and scrabbling.

"Stop it, mate! 'm not letting go!"

Yun goes limp.

Sean drags him the rest of him into view, slides down against the bed.

Yun slithers up next to him, hugs his knees, hides his face.

"What the /**fuck** was that?"

Yun whines.

Sean squeezes his shoulder. Hard. "What. The fuck. Did you do."

Yun lifts his head. "I kinda showed Jupiter how to beat rolling combination locks?"

Sean crosses his arms.

"And I sorta used Logan's safe to do it?"

Sean face-palms.

"And the cat maybe caught us and woke him up?"

Sean peeks out. "You did this while he was /**in** /**the** /**flat**?!"

"He was asleep!"

"Oh my god! Button, you /**idiot**!"

Yun buries his face and whines.

"He's after you now, isn't he?"

A miserable nod and an unintelligible mumble.

"What was that?"

Pitifully, "So's Charlie." Swallows. "They already nabbed Jupiter."

"You are /**so** dead, mate."

"I knoooooooow!"

"How long 'til your flight home?"

"Two days."

"You're totally, completely, absolutely doomed."

Yun grins weakly. "I'll just hide under your bed and wait for the end?"

"Like hell you will!"

"But, but—!"

"You are /**not** bringing those two down on me!" Sean stands, hauls Yun to his feet by his collar. "You're either leaving the way you came or I'm calling Charlie. Five seconds." Crosses his arms. "/**One.**"

Yun squeaks—

"Tw—"

—and's out the window and gone.

Sean sighs, closes and locks the window, flops into bed.

His pillow crunches.

Sean investigates.

- I'll get you for this. -

Sean rolls his eyes, tosses the note on the floor. "Showoff."
Lily (meta)

## Boxers

Of course, those boxers could always belong to some intermediate boyfriend, but we don't want to think about that. DX

I'm pretending they're legit hers. And Jackson'll feel somewhat uncomfortable all day 'cause the waistband's a little too tight.

Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice. I /like this.

## Cheerleading Voice

What do you think of her turning on her 'cheerleading voice' and Charlie 'on behalf of the students' association' to gauge her reaction to the fight? (Ie, she asks for opinions on stuff and listens to Charlie's voice which sounds
rather stuffed up).

I think that's /exactly the sort of thing she'd do.

Lily's mom's an investigator for a law firm and taught Lily a lot of the tricks to finding out anything she wants to know, including through sneaky acting. And she really cares about Jackson even though they didn't work out as a couple.

I sense the Voice is in reply to Jackson being convinced they're unsalvageable.

And of course Jackson thinks the relationship's unsalvagable. He's a bit of a drama monarch when it comes to relationships. XD

## Faceclaim

Also, Lily: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm4058438400/nm1343638?ref\_=nmmd\_md\_nxt

!!!!!!!!!!

## High School

### Cheerleader

She was a cheerleader in highschool, wasn't she?

More than likely, yes. Probably captain of the squad, too.

### Grades

And then she got got a full scholarship for something science-y and ran into this high-achieving dork at university ....

She's totally Valedictorian.

## Break Up

When do you think she and Jackson broke it off?

It ended when he took a job in a different city rather than the one in which she was going to grad school. The long distance thing quickly showed it wasn't going to work out and pointed out the different things they wanted out of life (he wants a family; she's a career person who wants someone equally driven). Since it happens much earlier in this 'verse, the split's mutual and they stay friends.

## Same City

How'd he end up back in this city?

It's Lily who moved. She changed graduate schools. The first program wasn't a good fit for her.
10 Days (meta)

## Birthday Party

In your vision, did Charlie and the family know exactly what happened to Jackson and Logan at this point or do the brothers need to explain what, exactly, happened to them?

They haven't had the "omg you're safe/I thought I'd never see you again" moment, yet, and Charlie never seemed incline to interrogate the stupid hat people who brought Jackson and Logan over, **so...**

* Jackson doubtfully remembers much of what happened upon the initial kidnapping (knockout gas seems to be involved)

* Charlie had to sign a "yes, I agree to be this person's next of kin" form (and life insurance stuff; Juliet wrangled her dad's company's lawyer into going over it, and then Siqi anonymously sent an annotated copy). Either this was only done through paper or there was a video call, I'm not sure.
	+ I think it was paper-only. Maybe courier delivered, but paper-only. I really get the feeling this is the first actual contact these two have had in ten days.
		- I had that feeling, too but I also wasn't entirely sure how Wash would be convinced to sign it (ie, would they have let Jackson include a note that said "please sign. will explain later"?
			* Yes, I like the idea of a little sticky note in Jackson's handwriting with a message like that. Gets the PTBs what they want (a signed form), lets Wash know her husband's alive and will probably continue to be, and gives Jackson gives Jackson a little hope he'll see her again. Sounds like a winning plan all around.
			* Then there shall be a sticky note in Jackson's handwriting with a message like that stuck to the document.
DriftSci (meta)

## Classification

UIDs are occasionally done in two stages. The first is preliminary, based on field data and can be done at a distance. The second involves interacting with the subject and includes tests and scans.

## Lightcap and D'onofrio

What do we do with Lightcap and D'onofrio? I'm thinking they're more valuable (in this universe) as the head of Drift Science and as a walking propaganda/recruitment tool, respectively, than as Rangers. Brawler picks up new pilots out of the first class of Academy grads and the discoverers of the Drift go on to other things.

I think they would swap out Lightcap and D'onofrio with 2015 Summer grads when all the other Mark Is launch just 'cause Brawler's first team's used to its odd proportions, fighting, and dropping solo; like they won't have to worry about /another team working out how to do this Ranger thing /and looking for Kaiju. Hopefully you can figure out what I'm trying to get at?

We're on the /exact same page with Team Brawler.

## DriftSci Gear

These very soft, kinda velvety dove, dusty-tan grey uniforms are more well-tailored than JTech, designed for people who sit a lot, and come across as more scifi-y.
Beady

## Meta

**Timing:** sometime after Jackson and Charlie begin living together

**Setting:** The Rental

## Text

Jackson lets himself into /**their** flat, hangs his key on /**his** hook beside Charlie's. "Hi, Derek!" he calls.

""Hey, Jack!""

Jackson whistles, ambles to the kitchen.

Derek skids into view. "How was work?"

"Not bad, thanks." Opens the fridge. "How was school?"

Derek shrugs. "Average." Leans against the counter. "Anything I can do?"

Jackson looks in the fridge. "Sure—"

Two beady black eyes stare out at him.

Jackson squeaks—

Derek jumps, whacks his back on the faucet.

—slams the door.

"W ...?"

Jackson shrugs, 'I have absolutely no idea'.

Derek curls up on the counter.

Jackson swallows, peeks inside.

Drama Llama peeks out from between the orange juice and the carton of eggs.

Jackson exhales. "It's Drama Llama."

Derek sighs.

"How'd you get in there, little guy?" Jackson picks Drama Llama up by the scruff of its neck. "Derek, check on the granola bars."

"'kay." Shuffling. "No granola bars."

Jackson presents Drama Llama. "Think Logan was here."

Derek drifts closer, coos. "It's got a little jumper!" Takes Drama Llama, grins. "With a 'J'."

Drama Llama's beady eyes glint smugly.

"Ha ha," Jackson huffs. "Very funny, Logan."
Housepooling

In this universe, Pietr's a /*Vulcan* mechanic (need to keep him away from Chuckles and /Striker and it makes the most sense with his Academy graduation; as a maintenance guy brought in to replace a construction guy).

So ... that would mean both Pietr and Jackson are shipped to Hong Kong in preparation for Pitfall. Which leaves Chuck and Griet more or less alone with the fluffles in Sydney (Derek and Andrea are still around, of course).

It's January 4th and the news channels are saying there are two Kaiju headed for Hong Kong (and Pietr's texting when he gets moments). Basically, the question is, is Chuck alone with her family when it becomes clear Jackson's died or are both families piled together at one house? It'd be the small hours of the morning so the fluffles would be asleep.

Short answer: Wash would be watching/listening with Griet during the Double Event.

Long answer: they would totally pile into one house. Whose house? Not sure. I really like the idea Griet and Wash housepooling when their hubbies are sent off, and it'd be winter vacation (and Christmas!) so it'd make sense for them to already be visiting.

Excellent points! I like the image of the housepooling, too.

Would the Pitfall housepooling happen at the Vos' house because they have the most fluffles, or would it happen at Charlie's because she has the youngest?

Is it easier to transport a year-old baby or a two-month-old baby? How comfortable would Wash be having her house invaded by others, even though they are friends? The Vosses /like being invaded and their house is almost certainly larger.

So focused was I on fluffle quantity that Wash's aversion to friendly invaders slipped my mind. The Voses probably have a spare crib/bassinet handy, too.

They almost certainly do! (And there's probably a betting pool among Pietr's crew of mechanics on if or when another fluffle will arrive.)

(And then add in Pietr--as a Mark-III specialist mechanic--working frantically to patch /Gipsy for the final assault, trying desperately not to think about what's happening back home in Sydney until he's finished.)

(And and that his phone would almost certainly be fried by the EMP, so he'd drop out of contact for a while....)

## Nanny

Would Nanny join them in the Pitfall housepooling? (Nanny probably has a cellphone, ay?)

Nanny lives close by and would be there as quickly as she can as soon after Wash asks (outside of her regular visiting hours, of course). Nanny has both a mobile phone and a landline.
A Jackson and His Book

## Meta

Timing: Probably the 1st week of January

Setting: the first house

## Text

Charlie gives her laces a final tug, stands, and reclaims  Book from  Jackson. "You're /**sure** you'll be okay?" she asks again.

Jackson kisses her cheek, eases Book from her arms—

Book burbles, gets a hold of Jackson's ear.

"We've done this twenty times. We'll be fi—" Winces.

"I know," Charlie works open Book's fist. "It's just my first full day back—"

"Not if you don't leave soon."

"You have all the emergency numbers?"

"On speed dial. And the lighter's in a locked box in a locked drawer in my desk."

"And you use anything with sharp edges?" Grins weakly. "Book's too small to call Triple-Zero."

"I will be extra careful washing dishes and that will be the end of it," Jackson promises.

"Okay." Charlie whines. "I don't want to go."

"I'll send you even more pictures and videos."

"Ookay." Charlie kisses him, kisses Book. "Have a good day."

"You, too!"

Charlie casts one{,} long look over her shoulder, then reluctantly closes the door.

Jackson remains in the foyer for another minute, gently bouncing Book, then heads to the kitchen. "Time to wash up, ay, Booklet?"

Book waves pudgy arms.

"Totally in agreement." Jackson scoops the change mat from the baby cupboard, spreads it on the table and then lays down Book. "One diaper, coming right off!"

Book flails pudgy legs, gaze alighting on toes, and then grabs a squishy foot and gums on it.

"Still clean. I'm not surprised, considering you didn't finish eating all that long ago." Jackson blows a raspberry against Book's tummy.

Book giggles, foot springing away.

"Whadye say, a Booklet, want to help me wash dishes?"

Book gurgles, makes grabby hands.

"Alrightee, then." Jackson covers his arm in a dish towel (it wouldn't be the first time Book had pooped on him or Charlie), rests Book against his chest, and sets to work on getting the water temperature juuuust right.

Book watches his every move, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of Jackson's neck.

"All set!" proclaims Jackson.

Book makes what he assumes is a cheer.

Jackson sits Book in the smaller side of the double sink—winces.

Book chortles.

"Haha," replies Jackson, not appreciating the angle one bit. "How on earth does your [mum] deal with this?"

Book resumes sucking on a foot.

"There!" Jackson straightens. "Now for dishwater—" Turns on the faucet. "—and soap—" Pours some in. "—and, of course, dishes—" Loads them in.

Book makes happy sounds, splashes water, makes delighted sounds.

A rather large mound of soap gets bigger.

"May have put in too much soap," Jackson admits.

Book splashes eagerly.

"I /**will** have to take care of it," agrees Jackson. He scoops up a handful, boops it towards the back of Book's head. "Much better."

Book's laugh almost ends in a topple!

Jackson sits Book back up. "Scrub time!"
Couched

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</noinclude>

Jimmy unlocks the garage of a nice-ish house, sends the door rolling up the track. "Over here." Squeezes past a sheet-draped car, pulls the tarp off a couch. "Tada!"

Logan grunts.

"Washroom through that door if you need it." Looks around.

"Guess that's it."

Logan bobs his head.

"Well, night."

"Night."

Jimmy ducks through the door.

Footsteps muffled by carpet fade.

Logan sighs, lets his shoulders slump, plops on the couch. He scrubs his face with both hands, takes a deep breath, leans back.

Safe.

'til morning, at least.

.

Logan snaps awake.

Squealing from the other side of a wall.

He peers over the arm of the couch.

Another shriek.

A happy kid, sounds maybe the same age as D—

Logan swallows, pushes up onto his elbows, tips himself to his feet.

He scans the garage, spots a window, grabs his backpack, heads over.

Unlocks it, pushes it open, tosses his bag out.

Hoists himself up, shimmies through, drops to the grass below with a grunt.

A hop and he snags the frame, pulls the window closed.

Nabs his bag and fades into the city.
Bathers

Derek and Andrea sit on the couch, heads together.

"What's got you two all interested?" grins Jason.

They jump; the tablet shoots from Andrea's hand under a pillow.

"You found the magazine spread, didn't you." Jason hangs his head. "I'll never escape that thing."

"It's ... pictures. Tara took," stammers Andrea, blushing.

(Derek's equally pink.)

"Good ones, I hope."

Andrea and Derek exchange glances.

Andrea worms the tablet from between the cushions, hands it over.

The screen wakes up to a candid photo of an aboriginal Australian and a white blond at the pool.

The former's sitting on the edge, hair still springy despite being soaked, wet skin over very toned muscles catching the light in all the right places.

The latter's half in; arms flexed as he pushes himself out, little beads of water dripping over his shoulders, very well-defined abs, bathers riding very low on his hips.

Lachlan whistles.

"Is this really us?" asks Jason.

Andrea goes even pinker and looks away.

"We're /**hot**."

Derek nods [fervently].
By That Name

## Meta

**Timing:** after the Nguyens disappear; some time has passed

**Setting:** Jamie's flat

## Text

""I'm sorry,"" says the voice, ""but there's no one here by that name.""

"Can you tell me where I might find her?"

""I cannot, sorry.""

"Can you give me any information on Thomas Nguyen?"

A beat. Thickly, ""Sorry. Yes. What would you like to know?""

"Is his daughter OK?"

Another beat. ""Sort of.""

"Did he tell her anything before the plane left?"

""Of course he did.""

"Is she willing to share any of it?"

""Not over the phone.""

"We'll figure something out. Take care, Mx. Send my regards."

""Thank you, I will. Good evening, Mister Walker.""
Daemon

## Meta

**Timing:** a summer holiday, late 2025 probably

**Setting:** The Darling-Jones kitchen at The Village (the 3rd house)

## Text

Jackson finishes drying the dishes from the beans' afternoon snack as a warm thing with claws settles across his shoulders. He offers ear scritches.

Snicket purrs.

"Hey, Logan," he calls.

A window slides shut.

"Hey." Logan nabs an apple from the bowl on the table.

Snicket leaps to the counter, the back of a chair, then the table, inspects the remaining fruit, headbutts Logan's arm.

"You doing OK?"

Logan shrugs, idly scratches Snicket's ears.

"You're... less /**restless** than you used to be." Jackson hangs up the dishtowel.

Snicket headbutts Logan's hand.

Logan keeps with the scritching.

"I think the little guy's a good influence on you or something."

Logan stops petting, side-eyes Snicket.

Snicket looks up at Logan, purring smugly and with eyes half-closed.

They turn back to Jackson.

Jackson snorts a laugh. "You know, I bet he's your daemon."

Logan blinks at him. "My what?"

"Like, he's a part of your soul, externalized. Like in /*The Northern Lights*."

Logan frowns.

"You didn't read it," sighs Jackson. "Wait here."

Logan shrugs, munches.

Snicket crawls into the fruit bowl, tucks himself in a sleepy spiral, nose under his tail.

Apple core goes into the compost container.

Jackson returns with a battered paperback. "Take a break from the espionage and read this. Parts'll probably seem familiar."

Logan accepts the book, squints at the back cover, nestles it under an arm.

"By the way," Jackson digs into the pantry for dinner ingredients, "you free tomorrow morning?"

"I dunno, Jack, I've got a pretty crowded schedule nowadays."

"Get stuffed."

Logan grins.

"Seriously, I need help wrangling the beans and the junior fluffheads at the park. You up for it?"

Logan straightens. "What's Charlie making?"

"Carrot-walnut muffins--"

Snicket flows out of the bowl, hops onto Logan's shoulders--

"I get half."

--makes himself comfy.

Jackson glowers.

"That or you can deal with seven anklebiters solo," smirks Logan.

Giggles and joyous shrieks from upstairs; someone/**s** skitter-pat across the playroom.

Jackson realizes, with a wince, he forgot to close the door.

Logan crosses his arms, raises an eyebrow.

"Fine, you mercenary bastard."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Jack." Logan tips an imaginary hat and strolls to the back door.

"Eight o'clock! Don't you dare be late!"

Logan waves nonchalantly.

Snicket swishes his tail.
CT Series (meta)

Very heavy Mark-I units with powerful long-range cannons. Poor radiation shielding prior to 2016 retrofits.

## CT-01

* **Name:** *Coyote Tango*
* **Home 'Dome:** Tokyo
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:** Tamsin Sevier (RH), Stacker Pentecost (LH)
* **Team colour:**
* **Entered service:** Dec 2015
* **Removed from service:** May 2016

## CT-03

* **Name:** *Chimera Templar*
* **Home 'Dome:** Anchorage
* **Origin:** Rebuilt CT-01
* **Pilots:** Gunnar Tunari (RH), Vic Tunari (LH)
* **Team Colour:**
* **Entered service:**
* **Removed from service:** Nov 2022 (written off [pilots killed])
Misfits

## Meta

**Timing:** on the move to the 1st house

**Setting:** family room

## Text

Charlie pulls a box from one of the stacks cluttering the family room of their /**house**. "What's in here?"

"Uh ...." Jackson studies the box, gets a funny look. "I occasionally forget how things work."

Charlie blinks, puzzled. "Can I open it?"

"Yea, sure," Jackson sighs, attempts puppy eyes. "Please don't judge me?"

Charlie grins. "I'm /**always** judging you." Kisses his nose.

Jackson shtumps to another stack, drags a box down.

Charlie opens hers, peers inside.

Jackson paws through his.

"What's this?"

"That's, umm, the Box of Misfit Toys." A weak chuckle.

"Do I want to know what that means?"

Jackson buries his upper half in his box. "I'd rather you didn't."

Charlie plucks something from the mess, turns it to and fro. "What is /**this**, exactly?"

Jackson pops up, flicks his eyes over the thing. "/**That** is a /**perfectly** good [complicated thing a child would never hope to understand]."

"What does it do?"

Jackson cringes, examines his slippers. "I mostly render stuff, yea?"

Charlie nods.

"Well, sometimes I get to design stuff. Toys." Jackson's eyes get that light. "Which is what I really wanna do and sometimes ...." Rubs the back of his very pink neck. "I kinda get a little carried away."

Charlie contemplates the [complicated thing]. "Great for adults, not so much for kids?"

"Yea ...." Jackson deflates.