[Guilty Gear] Three Degrees to the Right, Part 10
Title: Three Degrees to the Right
Fandom: Guilty Gear
Part: 10/12
Characters: Sol, Ky
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: violence
Notes: Towards equilibrium.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII
Three Degrees to the Right
Part X
The kid was crazy. That was really the only explanation left at this point, that the kid had been hit on the head one too many times and turned out crazier than Kliff could ever be.
In the possible scenarios, the sensible scenarios, he should have been trying to get rid of Ky's blood on his hands, not sitting on his ass while Ky was fussing over his injuries and occasionally berating him for moving.
A fatal exception error has occurred in module 'Earth logic'. Abort, retry, fail?
Ky should have been the type to get lost in his own anal-retentiveness-getting on his case for drinking on duty, or not wearing his uniform right, for offending some esteemed personality or another and going AWOL whenever it suited him. He should have been paying attention to the details written down in the great rulebook for people with a flagpole shoved up their ass, but little beyond that. And if that anal-retentiveness got buried under the heap of shit they had to deal with on a daily basis, planning and fighting and trying to keep things together, then so much the better.
At the very least, Ky had seemed to share his opinion when it came to Gears, which was no different from everyone else's opinion-that showing any kind of mercy would mean another couple of hundred unmarked graves.
It made no sense that he should differentiate when nobody else would; Sol certainly wouldn't have tried for a friendly chat had their roles been reversed.
Well, Mr. Pure Mentality, looks like he's ruining your curve pretty badly. How about another overhaul of the Kiske Personality Study? This makes how many now?
He shook his head, trying to focus his attention on repairing the limiter. Everything else could wait until he had recovered enough to think of a way to deal with the consequences.
Turning it over on his knee, he groped for the depressions that would release its protective shell. It was like trying to hit grooves the size of a fingernail with a crab pincer, the tips of his claws barely able to fit underneath the rim of the casing. Something inside was running hot, and he didn't like it one bit.
Fingers lightly trailed up the junction of his wing, carefully probing for fractures, and he had to suppress a shudder.
The last time someone had touched him in that form had been forever ago, and it had involved scalpels and anesthetics. He still remembered the point when he'd been able to smell their fear, the terrified thrill at the thought of what they were creating. Ky, though, who should have known best what Gears were capable of, was touching him with no fear at all, as if he saw no difference between Sol and any other wounded soldier.
The same way it had always been, if the kid's exasperated lectures on the subject were anything to go by.
"Don't move now," Ky murmured, still cautiously smoothing over the edge. "I'll have to set that before it heals the wrong way."
He took a firm hold of the bone, lifting the entire wing into an approximation of its normal position. Sol couldn't hold back the pained hiss that escaped him-the paralyzing effect of the venom was starting to fade, and he could feel the broken pieces scraping, twisting in the folds of skin.
Ky paused, taken aback by the noise. "You okay?"
"You don't usually act like I'm going to go into convulsions."
"You don't usually come with extra appendages," Ky returned, "that are kind of… fragile-looking."
"Trust me, they're-"
A startled roar tore from his throat as Ky wrenched the pieces of bone without warning. The wing jerked violently in an attempt to escape the pain, driven by a mind of its own despite his best efforts. He thought he heard the kid hiss, could feel him hanging on tighter and using his own body weight to lodge the bones in position.
By the time he backed off again, Sol's nerves were still screaming in protest.
"Try… not to move too much now… I don't want to be forced to rebreak them," Ky panted, and it only took one glance to see the places on his arms where the wing's thorny protrusions had torn through his uniform, breaking the skin. It could have been worse, though. If the damned thing had been any healthier, the kid could have ended up having to peel himself off a wall.
Ky didn't seem too concerned with himself, at any rate, instead bending down to examine the tattered membrane, and sighing. "I have no idea what to do about this."
"Just leave it."
"Will you still be able to fly with that?"
If there was one positive thing about his current appearance, it was that his face didn't lend itself too well to 'landed fish' expressions. "…What?"
"You can do that, right? I mean, I've never seen a winged Gear that couldn't, so I just assumed…"
"Don't tell me you're honestly interested in this," Sol grunted, and resumed his struggle with the limiter.
The protective casing finally clicked open, revealing the assortment of thin wires and tiny electronics. Part of the gears had stopped turning, others grinding against them with a high-pitched whirring sound. The entire system was approaching overload by the minute.
Lovely.
"You're the first one that thought to stop for a chat. Of course I'm curious."
As if to prove a point, the fingers suddenly came to rest on his lower spine, and he startled, the tail lashing reflexively.
"Whoa there," Ky exclaimed, and it sounded so remarkably like a thing he'd say to a nervous horse, "Sorry, but we're not done yet."
"It's fine." Easier than an apology for almost taking the kid's arm off right there, without even trying.
"You keep saying that. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't really believe you."
The fingers returned, a bit more firmly this time, wandering down on the bony ridge in an effort to determine what was a vertebra and what wasn't, removing more debris as they went.
Sol returned to his perusal of the device, trying to ignore the unpleasant sting whenever Ky pulled another fragment from his flesh. Most of the limiter's parts were designed to function independently, if necessary-with some tweaking, he should be able to get it to work again, unless…
Unless the core was damaged, then things would start looking ugly.
"…I suppose I should be glad yours doesn't come with two-foot spikes."
The amused tone pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to half-glance back at Ky, who was trying his best to keep a straight face at the sight of the tail curling under his hand, swishing back and forth in the rubble.
One of the most annoying things about the entire Gear existence was the fact that the junk heap of primitive brain structures piled underneath the more sophisticated human apparatus was a lot more alert and entirely too happy to execute basic responses to stimuli without his express consent, going so far as to give a thump of protest when Ky drew back.
"I guess nothing's broken there."
Sol stopped glaring at his own tail long enough to glare at him instead. "So glad to see you're enjoying yourself."
"Hey, it's okay," the kid said generously, his eyes shining with mirth. "You make fun of me for so many things, I'll just keep this one."
"Knock yourself out."
With a huff, Sol returned to struggling with the miniature tools strapped to the inside of the case.
Try as he might, though, it was impossible to even lift them, much less operate them, his claws unsuited for such a task. They kept grasping at nothing, clicking uselessly against each other. Growling in frustration, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to shift back long enough to fix the damn thing. The adrenaline was still pumping, all his senses hypervigilant, but he put his will to it, forcing his form to reverse.
A great spasm shook his body, muscles jerking as the Gear parts were attempting to retract, bones cracking and grinding painfully.
"What-! Stop it! What are you doing?!"
The claws pushed forth again, his body refusing to accept the damaged parts.
"Stop it!"
A sudden jolt snapped through him, scattering his concentration. "What the hell-!"
Ky glared, a spark dancing between his fingertips. "You were reopening your wounds! At this rate, I won't have to bash you unconscious, you're just going to kill yourself." He got up, examining the wing in dismay. "Damn it, here we go again."
Sol braced himself against the new wave of pain as Ky went about realigning the fractured pieces again, with a little more force than strictly necessary. Once it subsided, he went back to futilely poking at the tools, pretending he couldn't see the furious glare.
The situation was entirely too reminiscent of the very first few months, when keeping control of his form for longer than a few seconds at a time had exhausted him completely, when instruments and beakers and anything not made of industrial-strength titanium would effortlessly shatter in his grasp.
It had been worse than the period of half-delirious madness that preceded it. By then, his mind had been perfectly clear and ready to catalogue his own failures right down to the tiniest detail, ready to remind him that he didn't have time, that he couldn't afford it, that things were marching to hell in a hand basket while he was hiding in his little cave trying to learn how to touch things again.
He'd never wanted to recall that feeling of utter helplessness, with his own body as his worst enemy. Injured as he was now, it would take too long before he could safely chance shifting back again.
A hand came to rest on his knee.
"You know…" Ky said, "If you tell me what to do… I've got opposable thumbs. You could go back to being uselessly proud in twenty minutes."
---
Silence.
That wary stare was back full force, searching his face for any hint of treachery. It stung a little to think that Sol was still expecting some kind of betrayal, but the rest of him was well aware that it was a foolish sentiment. This had little to do with him.
Even though he saw no difference between the appearance of the human and the Gear, Sol obviously did, and asking him to hand over that precious device was likely asking too much. He could understand that, at least to a degree, had been powerless too often not to understand, but right now, they were running out of time.
"I promise I won't run off with it and sell it on the black market," he ventured, trying his best to keep this light, keep this casual, just another tricky situation in a long series of tricky situations.
Something flashed in those eyes, and Ky thought for a moment that if he could have, Sol would have made a face.
"…You're such a goody-two-shoes, you wouldn't even know where to find a black market," he finally grumbled, picking up the headband and holding it out to him.
Carefully accepting the dismantled device, Ky moved to sit down beside him. It was unlike anything he had seen before, a virtual labyrinth of miniature electronics whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess, coils and wires looping around and over each other, thin transparent tubes that looked like they might be transporting some sort of liquid coolant. He was quite sure the R&D division would be having a field day with this.
At his side, Sol shifted, trying to scoot away.
"Stay put, I'll need some more light," Ky murmured, bridging the gap again, slowly freeing the small tools from their hold. "And you'll have to tell me when things are about to explode in my face."
A huff, and then a large black palm was thrust into his field of vision, a flame igniting in its center, casting the claws in stark relief.
"Thank you."
Taking a deep breath, Sol leaned closer. "Pull out the cables on both sides of the central unit, but don't cut them."
"Alright."
This was easier said than done, since these cables were almost as thin as threads, tangled together, each of them stuck in its own individual plug. It made Ky dearly wish for a magnifying glass. Grabbing onto them with the pair of miniature pliers, he could hardly feel when he caught them, pulling gently so as not to rip them by accident.
He found himself trying to picture Sol as he proceeded with the delicate operation, his bulky frame bent over a worktable like an antique watchmaker, his big hands operating on his creation with utmost care. The mental image was intriguing and silly at the same time, and he had to suppress a smile.
Finally, with the last wire freed, the parts stopped their frenetic grinding, dying down with a slow hum.
"Now lift the first layer out."
"All of it?"
Sol nodded. "Yes. It comes in blocks, don't worry."
"How do I know where to pull?" Ky asked, squinting at the seamless clockwork.
"There are ten in total. They connect horizontally, held by four screws each."
"Okay…"
Silence fell as he kept on working, the screwdriver feeling like a twig in his hand. The screws themselves were even smaller, and he had to be careful pulling them out, placing them in Sol's free hand. Gear vision or no, they would never be able to find those among the debris again.
"The second block on the right is stuck… so's the third and fourth. They look pretty bad, too." He poked at the parts.
"Doesn't matter. Pull them out by force."
"Looks like they're melted…"
"Getting your skull attended to by a vise will do that. Just toss them out."
"Are you sure? These don't look like they'd be easy to come by…"
"I can make repairs," Sol assured him, in the kind of tone that implied he had managed to do so before and knew how to do so again.
"If you say so…" Ky conceded, returning to his task.
Removing the last piece revealed another layer of electronics, and a spindle-shaped stone held in a thin wire frame, radiating white-hot light. Ky could sense its power even from a distance, and knew without a doubt that this was responsible for the strange current he had sensed earlier. "Is that…?"
"So you can feel it. Crystallized magic."
"Are you kidding? That stuff is almost impossible to manufacture!"
Squinting against the brightness, Ky was almost certain that he could make out the stone's structure, a nebulous gas pulsing softly beneath the translucent surface. He had never held one in hand, but he knew the price they went for, a handful of the stones easily costing a small country's annual budget. Sol couldn't possibly have scrounged up enough money to purchase one.
"…I hear they're floating Zepp with it, amongst other things. One of this size could probably operate a small-scale airship."
"It was calibrated for only one purpose," Sol said simply. "Pull it out, but don't touch it with your hands."
"Isn't that dangerous? They say long-term exposure will alter the genetic structure. If you're wearing that…" Ky trailed off, using the pliers to gingerly remove the crystal, and held it out to Sol for inspection.
A snort. "Hell, no. That rumor's been around since the time they still thought about mass production. But that's all it is. A rumor."
"You suspect Zepp had something to do with it?"
Sol shrugged, peering at the crystal. Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it because he leaned back.
"Put it back in. And who knows? That stuff does mess with you, but not like they say. People without magic… tend to go bonkers after a while. Upsets their energy balance. It's like ultrasound-they can't process it, but constant exposure drives them nuts. For people like you… it's basically just a booster pack."
Ky looked at him, not sure whether to be more amazed at the information or the change in Sol. He could count the times Sol had been willing to divulge his knowledge on the fingers of both hands. Although he adamantly pretended to be a thoughtless brute, Ky had seen him tinkering with things on occasion, fixing weaponry that would have required repairs from a specialist, scoffing at experimental devices with the impatience of an old hand for incompetent rookies. There was a lot more to this than Sol's simple claim of not wanting to be responsible for anything, of that he was certain.
"…How can you be so sure about that?"
"How long have you had that fancy toothpick now?"
"You don't mean-?!"
"What, you've never thought about what's powering it?"
Ky's eyes strayed over to where the Furaiken was stuck in the ground, small arcs of lightning creeping up and down the length of its blade. Of course he had thought about it, about why such a sword would be a "holy relic", when it was clearly a manmade weapon.
Of course he had been curious about its workings, if only to know what to do if the weapon somehow got damaged in battle. His inquiries, however, had been met with stony silence, and as with so many other things, there had never really been a choice. It did what he needed it to do, and he had to be grateful that they had given it to him without much protest. That was all that had mattered.
Until now.
Any records concerning the Furaiken, as far as they existed, were so classified that even Kliff had no access to them, and not for lack of trying. All they'd been able to dig up was a thin folder, its contents so censored as to be nearly unreadable. No specifications, no production date, no manufacturer. All he was left with was the certainty that the sword couldn't possibly have been crafted by anyone in the Order.
And now… it wasn't that he had trouble envisioning Sol shaking down some hapless R&D project manager for spare information, it was that he was quite certain there was nothing to shake out of them.
For every puzzle I solve, you just have to give me a new one. I'm not sure I want to consider the possibilities for this one just yet.
"…No questions?"
"I'd be lying if I said no," Ky admitted, glancing from the Furaiken to the headband in his lap, and finally to Sol. "I do want to ask. But if I did, would you answer?"
There was no reply, and he knew then that it was useless to prod further. At another time, he might have thought it worth an argument, but not now, when he held the barest increment of trust in his hands, and time was a precious commodity that he couldn't afford to waste over a senseless squabble.
"Yeah, I thought so. So I'm just going to hope you'll tell me the important stuff before it gets us killed. Business as usual."
"You're normally such a nuisance about these things."
"I'm a nuisance when you treat me like I wouldn't understand what's going on in your fancy head. Or when you talk to me in a language unknown to man, because you think that way, I won't notice if you insult me. Well, I'm getting better at figuring these things out. I don't get everything yet, but I will, one day."
Sol shook his head. "You are just about the most annoyingly persistent brat in the universe."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Ky tilted his head, stomping out that tiny spark of pride. "What next?"
Although the face remained almost unchanged, the eyes were speaking volumes. "Bend wires number two, three and four holding the crystal. Should be enough to stop the power flow to the damaged blocks for the time being. Then replace the intact blocks and reconnect them."
"Alright. Will it still work with so many pieces missing?"
Sol shrugged. "We'll see."
Putting the pieces back into place was a little faster this time around, as his hands had gotten somewhat used to working with the tiny instruments. He noticed Sol tensing the more screws disappeared from his hand, the more of the cables were guided back into their sockets.
Ky couldn't gauge whether the damage done to the headband was extensive or not, but all the same, the possibility that those makeshift repairs wouldn't be enough seemed very real. There was only so much he could do to protect Sol's secret-getting him out of the city in this form was simply impossible, and for the first time, he found himself wanting to avoid thinking about the consequences, even though he should have. He always did, no matter how unpleasant they might be.
Oh, but this is personal now, isn't it? That's what makes it different. Isn't it funny, how little it takes…
It was really stupid, after all this time of not having to be truly concerned for Sol's life. Absurd, and more than a little selfish, when Sol had so much more reason to worry.
"Hey…" came the rumble, close to his ear. "Wrong plug."
He glanced down, realizing that he had been about to connect a mismatched cable, and shook his head. "…Sorry."
Guiding the last cable into the plug, the gears started turning again with a soft mechanical whirr.
"So…" he murmured, lowering the lid until it clicked into place. "Is this it?"
"Didn't go into meltdown. That's always a good sign."
"How are your wounds?"
Sol rotated his shoulders experimentally. "Should be fine."
"Fine as in 'I am a hardass' or fine as in-"
In lieu of a reply, the wings rose, giving an exasperated flap before settling back down.
"Okay, got it," Ky said, handing over the headband.
Suddenly, Sol's form began to shiver like something blurring out of focus. His entire appearance was twisting, shrinking, wings and tail retreating into his back, black plating simply melting back into his body until all that was left was a familiar figure, shaking and drenched in sweat.
Slowly, two human hands reached up, tying the headband firmly back into place.
Red eyes turned to look at him, the perpetually disgruntled expression settling on his features, and Ky couldn't hold back a smile.
"Welcome back."
-TBC-
-----
A/N: And the real reason Sol got banged up so much comes out. *laughs* Thanks goes to raging_tofu for her vigilance. As usual, C&C is welcome and appreciated.
Notes for the Hard-to-Entertain:
- I liked bullshitting about all the fancy gadgets, especially since LOLCreator usually doesn't make any sense. Ah well, artistic license? XD
- You know the move little birds do when they're annoyed? The way they puff up and shake their wings out? Yeah. That move.
<< Return to Part IX? | Continue to Part XI? >>
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Fandom: Guilty Gear
Part: 10/12
Characters: Sol, Ky
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: violence
Notes: Towards equilibrium.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII
Three Degrees to the Right
Part X
The kid was crazy. That was really the only explanation left at this point, that the kid had been hit on the head one too many times and turned out crazier than Kliff could ever be.
In the possible scenarios, the sensible scenarios, he should have been trying to get rid of Ky's blood on his hands, not sitting on his ass while Ky was fussing over his injuries and occasionally berating him for moving.
A fatal exception error has occurred in module 'Earth logic'. Abort, retry, fail?
Ky should have been the type to get lost in his own anal-retentiveness-getting on his case for drinking on duty, or not wearing his uniform right, for offending some esteemed personality or another and going AWOL whenever it suited him. He should have been paying attention to the details written down in the great rulebook for people with a flagpole shoved up their ass, but little beyond that. And if that anal-retentiveness got buried under the heap of shit they had to deal with on a daily basis, planning and fighting and trying to keep things together, then so much the better.
At the very least, Ky had seemed to share his opinion when it came to Gears, which was no different from everyone else's opinion-that showing any kind of mercy would mean another couple of hundred unmarked graves.
It made no sense that he should differentiate when nobody else would; Sol certainly wouldn't have tried for a friendly chat had their roles been reversed.
Well, Mr. Pure Mentality, looks like he's ruining your curve pretty badly. How about another overhaul of the Kiske Personality Study? This makes how many now?
He shook his head, trying to focus his attention on repairing the limiter. Everything else could wait until he had recovered enough to think of a way to deal with the consequences.
Turning it over on his knee, he groped for the depressions that would release its protective shell. It was like trying to hit grooves the size of a fingernail with a crab pincer, the tips of his claws barely able to fit underneath the rim of the casing. Something inside was running hot, and he didn't like it one bit.
Fingers lightly trailed up the junction of his wing, carefully probing for fractures, and he had to suppress a shudder.
The last time someone had touched him in that form had been forever ago, and it had involved scalpels and anesthetics. He still remembered the point when he'd been able to smell their fear, the terrified thrill at the thought of what they were creating. Ky, though, who should have known best what Gears were capable of, was touching him with no fear at all, as if he saw no difference between Sol and any other wounded soldier.
The same way it had always been, if the kid's exasperated lectures on the subject were anything to go by.
"Don't move now," Ky murmured, still cautiously smoothing over the edge. "I'll have to set that before it heals the wrong way."
He took a firm hold of the bone, lifting the entire wing into an approximation of its normal position. Sol couldn't hold back the pained hiss that escaped him-the paralyzing effect of the venom was starting to fade, and he could feel the broken pieces scraping, twisting in the folds of skin.
Ky paused, taken aback by the noise. "You okay?"
"You don't usually act like I'm going to go into convulsions."
"You don't usually come with extra appendages," Ky returned, "that are kind of… fragile-looking."
"Trust me, they're-"
A startled roar tore from his throat as Ky wrenched the pieces of bone without warning. The wing jerked violently in an attempt to escape the pain, driven by a mind of its own despite his best efforts. He thought he heard the kid hiss, could feel him hanging on tighter and using his own body weight to lodge the bones in position.
By the time he backed off again, Sol's nerves were still screaming in protest.
"Try… not to move too much now… I don't want to be forced to rebreak them," Ky panted, and it only took one glance to see the places on his arms where the wing's thorny protrusions had torn through his uniform, breaking the skin. It could have been worse, though. If the damned thing had been any healthier, the kid could have ended up having to peel himself off a wall.
Ky didn't seem too concerned with himself, at any rate, instead bending down to examine the tattered membrane, and sighing. "I have no idea what to do about this."
"Just leave it."
"Will you still be able to fly with that?"
If there was one positive thing about his current appearance, it was that his face didn't lend itself too well to 'landed fish' expressions. "…What?"
"You can do that, right? I mean, I've never seen a winged Gear that couldn't, so I just assumed…"
"Don't tell me you're honestly interested in this," Sol grunted, and resumed his struggle with the limiter.
The protective casing finally clicked open, revealing the assortment of thin wires and tiny electronics. Part of the gears had stopped turning, others grinding against them with a high-pitched whirring sound. The entire system was approaching overload by the minute.
Lovely.
"You're the first one that thought to stop for a chat. Of course I'm curious."
As if to prove a point, the fingers suddenly came to rest on his lower spine, and he startled, the tail lashing reflexively.
"Whoa there," Ky exclaimed, and it sounded so remarkably like a thing he'd say to a nervous horse, "Sorry, but we're not done yet."
"It's fine." Easier than an apology for almost taking the kid's arm off right there, without even trying.
"You keep saying that. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't really believe you."
The fingers returned, a bit more firmly this time, wandering down on the bony ridge in an effort to determine what was a vertebra and what wasn't, removing more debris as they went.
Sol returned to his perusal of the device, trying to ignore the unpleasant sting whenever Ky pulled another fragment from his flesh. Most of the limiter's parts were designed to function independently, if necessary-with some tweaking, he should be able to get it to work again, unless…
Unless the core was damaged, then things would start looking ugly.
"…I suppose I should be glad yours doesn't come with two-foot spikes."
The amused tone pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to half-glance back at Ky, who was trying his best to keep a straight face at the sight of the tail curling under his hand, swishing back and forth in the rubble.
One of the most annoying things about the entire Gear existence was the fact that the junk heap of primitive brain structures piled underneath the more sophisticated human apparatus was a lot more alert and entirely too happy to execute basic responses to stimuli without his express consent, going so far as to give a thump of protest when Ky drew back.
"I guess nothing's broken there."
Sol stopped glaring at his own tail long enough to glare at him instead. "So glad to see you're enjoying yourself."
"Hey, it's okay," the kid said generously, his eyes shining with mirth. "You make fun of me for so many things, I'll just keep this one."
"Knock yourself out."
With a huff, Sol returned to struggling with the miniature tools strapped to the inside of the case.
Try as he might, though, it was impossible to even lift them, much less operate them, his claws unsuited for such a task. They kept grasping at nothing, clicking uselessly against each other. Growling in frustration, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to shift back long enough to fix the damn thing. The adrenaline was still pumping, all his senses hypervigilant, but he put his will to it, forcing his form to reverse.
A great spasm shook his body, muscles jerking as the Gear parts were attempting to retract, bones cracking and grinding painfully.
"What-! Stop it! What are you doing?!"
The claws pushed forth again, his body refusing to accept the damaged parts.
"Stop it!"
A sudden jolt snapped through him, scattering his concentration. "What the hell-!"
Ky glared, a spark dancing between his fingertips. "You were reopening your wounds! At this rate, I won't have to bash you unconscious, you're just going to kill yourself." He got up, examining the wing in dismay. "Damn it, here we go again."
Sol braced himself against the new wave of pain as Ky went about realigning the fractured pieces again, with a little more force than strictly necessary. Once it subsided, he went back to futilely poking at the tools, pretending he couldn't see the furious glare.
The situation was entirely too reminiscent of the very first few months, when keeping control of his form for longer than a few seconds at a time had exhausted him completely, when instruments and beakers and anything not made of industrial-strength titanium would effortlessly shatter in his grasp.
It had been worse than the period of half-delirious madness that preceded it. By then, his mind had been perfectly clear and ready to catalogue his own failures right down to the tiniest detail, ready to remind him that he didn't have time, that he couldn't afford it, that things were marching to hell in a hand basket while he was hiding in his little cave trying to learn how to touch things again.
He'd never wanted to recall that feeling of utter helplessness, with his own body as his worst enemy. Injured as he was now, it would take too long before he could safely chance shifting back again.
A hand came to rest on his knee.
"You know…" Ky said, "If you tell me what to do… I've got opposable thumbs. You could go back to being uselessly proud in twenty minutes."
---
Silence.
That wary stare was back full force, searching his face for any hint of treachery. It stung a little to think that Sol was still expecting some kind of betrayal, but the rest of him was well aware that it was a foolish sentiment. This had little to do with him.
Even though he saw no difference between the appearance of the human and the Gear, Sol obviously did, and asking him to hand over that precious device was likely asking too much. He could understand that, at least to a degree, had been powerless too often not to understand, but right now, they were running out of time.
"I promise I won't run off with it and sell it on the black market," he ventured, trying his best to keep this light, keep this casual, just another tricky situation in a long series of tricky situations.
Something flashed in those eyes, and Ky thought for a moment that if he could have, Sol would have made a face.
"…You're such a goody-two-shoes, you wouldn't even know where to find a black market," he finally grumbled, picking up the headband and holding it out to him.
Carefully accepting the dismantled device, Ky moved to sit down beside him. It was unlike anything he had seen before, a virtual labyrinth of miniature electronics whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess, coils and wires looping around and over each other, thin transparent tubes that looked like they might be transporting some sort of liquid coolant. He was quite sure the R&D division would be having a field day with this.
At his side, Sol shifted, trying to scoot away.
"Stay put, I'll need some more light," Ky murmured, bridging the gap again, slowly freeing the small tools from their hold. "And you'll have to tell me when things are about to explode in my face."
A huff, and then a large black palm was thrust into his field of vision, a flame igniting in its center, casting the claws in stark relief.
"Thank you."
Taking a deep breath, Sol leaned closer. "Pull out the cables on both sides of the central unit, but don't cut them."
"Alright."
This was easier said than done, since these cables were almost as thin as threads, tangled together, each of them stuck in its own individual plug. It made Ky dearly wish for a magnifying glass. Grabbing onto them with the pair of miniature pliers, he could hardly feel when he caught them, pulling gently so as not to rip them by accident.
He found himself trying to picture Sol as he proceeded with the delicate operation, his bulky frame bent over a worktable like an antique watchmaker, his big hands operating on his creation with utmost care. The mental image was intriguing and silly at the same time, and he had to suppress a smile.
Finally, with the last wire freed, the parts stopped their frenetic grinding, dying down with a slow hum.
"Now lift the first layer out."
"All of it?"
Sol nodded. "Yes. It comes in blocks, don't worry."
"How do I know where to pull?" Ky asked, squinting at the seamless clockwork.
"There are ten in total. They connect horizontally, held by four screws each."
"Okay…"
Silence fell as he kept on working, the screwdriver feeling like a twig in his hand. The screws themselves were even smaller, and he had to be careful pulling them out, placing them in Sol's free hand. Gear vision or no, they would never be able to find those among the debris again.
"The second block on the right is stuck… so's the third and fourth. They look pretty bad, too." He poked at the parts.
"Doesn't matter. Pull them out by force."
"Looks like they're melted…"
"Getting your skull attended to by a vise will do that. Just toss them out."
"Are you sure? These don't look like they'd be easy to come by…"
"I can make repairs," Sol assured him, in the kind of tone that implied he had managed to do so before and knew how to do so again.
"If you say so…" Ky conceded, returning to his task.
Removing the last piece revealed another layer of electronics, and a spindle-shaped stone held in a thin wire frame, radiating white-hot light. Ky could sense its power even from a distance, and knew without a doubt that this was responsible for the strange current he had sensed earlier. "Is that…?"
"So you can feel it. Crystallized magic."
"Are you kidding? That stuff is almost impossible to manufacture!"
Squinting against the brightness, Ky was almost certain that he could make out the stone's structure, a nebulous gas pulsing softly beneath the translucent surface. He had never held one in hand, but he knew the price they went for, a handful of the stones easily costing a small country's annual budget. Sol couldn't possibly have scrounged up enough money to purchase one.
"…I hear they're floating Zepp with it, amongst other things. One of this size could probably operate a small-scale airship."
"It was calibrated for only one purpose," Sol said simply. "Pull it out, but don't touch it with your hands."
"Isn't that dangerous? They say long-term exposure will alter the genetic structure. If you're wearing that…" Ky trailed off, using the pliers to gingerly remove the crystal, and held it out to Sol for inspection.
A snort. "Hell, no. That rumor's been around since the time they still thought about mass production. But that's all it is. A rumor."
"You suspect Zepp had something to do with it?"
Sol shrugged, peering at the crystal. Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it because he leaned back.
"Put it back in. And who knows? That stuff does mess with you, but not like they say. People without magic… tend to go bonkers after a while. Upsets their energy balance. It's like ultrasound-they can't process it, but constant exposure drives them nuts. For people like you… it's basically just a booster pack."
Ky looked at him, not sure whether to be more amazed at the information or the change in Sol. He could count the times Sol had been willing to divulge his knowledge on the fingers of both hands. Although he adamantly pretended to be a thoughtless brute, Ky had seen him tinkering with things on occasion, fixing weaponry that would have required repairs from a specialist, scoffing at experimental devices with the impatience of an old hand for incompetent rookies. There was a lot more to this than Sol's simple claim of not wanting to be responsible for anything, of that he was certain.
"…How can you be so sure about that?"
"How long have you had that fancy toothpick now?"
"You don't mean-?!"
"What, you've never thought about what's powering it?"
Ky's eyes strayed over to where the Furaiken was stuck in the ground, small arcs of lightning creeping up and down the length of its blade. Of course he had thought about it, about why such a sword would be a "holy relic", when it was clearly a manmade weapon.
Of course he had been curious about its workings, if only to know what to do if the weapon somehow got damaged in battle. His inquiries, however, had been met with stony silence, and as with so many other things, there had never really been a choice. It did what he needed it to do, and he had to be grateful that they had given it to him without much protest. That was all that had mattered.
Until now.
Any records concerning the Furaiken, as far as they existed, were so classified that even Kliff had no access to them, and not for lack of trying. All they'd been able to dig up was a thin folder, its contents so censored as to be nearly unreadable. No specifications, no production date, no manufacturer. All he was left with was the certainty that the sword couldn't possibly have been crafted by anyone in the Order.
And now… it wasn't that he had trouble envisioning Sol shaking down some hapless R&D project manager for spare information, it was that he was quite certain there was nothing to shake out of them.
For every puzzle I solve, you just have to give me a new one. I'm not sure I want to consider the possibilities for this one just yet.
"…No questions?"
"I'd be lying if I said no," Ky admitted, glancing from the Furaiken to the headband in his lap, and finally to Sol. "I do want to ask. But if I did, would you answer?"
There was no reply, and he knew then that it was useless to prod further. At another time, he might have thought it worth an argument, but not now, when he held the barest increment of trust in his hands, and time was a precious commodity that he couldn't afford to waste over a senseless squabble.
"Yeah, I thought so. So I'm just going to hope you'll tell me the important stuff before it gets us killed. Business as usual."
"You're normally such a nuisance about these things."
"I'm a nuisance when you treat me like I wouldn't understand what's going on in your fancy head. Or when you talk to me in a language unknown to man, because you think that way, I won't notice if you insult me. Well, I'm getting better at figuring these things out. I don't get everything yet, but I will, one day."
Sol shook his head. "You are just about the most annoyingly persistent brat in the universe."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Ky tilted his head, stomping out that tiny spark of pride. "What next?"
Although the face remained almost unchanged, the eyes were speaking volumes. "Bend wires number two, three and four holding the crystal. Should be enough to stop the power flow to the damaged blocks for the time being. Then replace the intact blocks and reconnect them."
"Alright. Will it still work with so many pieces missing?"
Sol shrugged. "We'll see."
Putting the pieces back into place was a little faster this time around, as his hands had gotten somewhat used to working with the tiny instruments. He noticed Sol tensing the more screws disappeared from his hand, the more of the cables were guided back into their sockets.
Ky couldn't gauge whether the damage done to the headband was extensive or not, but all the same, the possibility that those makeshift repairs wouldn't be enough seemed very real. There was only so much he could do to protect Sol's secret-getting him out of the city in this form was simply impossible, and for the first time, he found himself wanting to avoid thinking about the consequences, even though he should have. He always did, no matter how unpleasant they might be.
Oh, but this is personal now, isn't it? That's what makes it different. Isn't it funny, how little it takes…
It was really stupid, after all this time of not having to be truly concerned for Sol's life. Absurd, and more than a little selfish, when Sol had so much more reason to worry.
"Hey…" came the rumble, close to his ear. "Wrong plug."
He glanced down, realizing that he had been about to connect a mismatched cable, and shook his head. "…Sorry."
Guiding the last cable into the plug, the gears started turning again with a soft mechanical whirr.
"So…" he murmured, lowering the lid until it clicked into place. "Is this it?"
"Didn't go into meltdown. That's always a good sign."
"How are your wounds?"
Sol rotated his shoulders experimentally. "Should be fine."
"Fine as in 'I am a hardass' or fine as in-"
In lieu of a reply, the wings rose, giving an exasperated flap before settling back down.
"Okay, got it," Ky said, handing over the headband.
Suddenly, Sol's form began to shiver like something blurring out of focus. His entire appearance was twisting, shrinking, wings and tail retreating into his back, black plating simply melting back into his body until all that was left was a familiar figure, shaking and drenched in sweat.
Slowly, two human hands reached up, tying the headband firmly back into place.
Red eyes turned to look at him, the perpetually disgruntled expression settling on his features, and Ky couldn't hold back a smile.
"Welcome back."
-TBC-
-----
A/N: And the real reason Sol got banged up so much comes out. *laughs* Thanks goes to raging_tofu for her vigilance. As usual, C&C is welcome and appreciated.
Notes for the Hard-to-Entertain:
- I liked bullshitting about all the fancy gadgets, especially since LOLCreator usually doesn't make any sense. Ah well, artistic license? XD
- You know the move little birds do when they're annoyed? The way they puff up and shake their wings out? Yeah. That move.
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