Air pirate AU - TTGL fanfic, part 2
To say Dai-Gurren was infamous would be an understatement.
What once started out as a pipe dream for two young men turned into an internationally feared movement. However, nobody seemed to know the origin of Dai-Gurren--as far as citizens were concerned, it was simply a spontaneous gathering of rowdy hoodlums just looking for trouble. The truth was far more complicated than the governments were willing to let their people know.
What, exactly, was the truth, then?
The truth was that, about half a century ago, the world had reached maximum capacity. Resources were running out faster than they could be replenished. At first, it had been good for scientific breakthroughs, but the science simply could not keep up with the constantly exploding population. Erosion made cities dive below the sea, leaving the planet with only 50% of the land it used to. The upper class took to the skies and made their own countries among the clouds. There, they began to govern themselves and those unfortunate enough to still be living on the ground...who had began fighting against each other due to territorial debates, resource availability, and even personal identity. To fix this problem, the upper class took totalitarian rule, taking all of the available land and resources and distributed them equally among the people.
This was more or less accepted with open arms.
"More or less" being the important part.
Every so often, the occasional citizen would rebel against the government, for some reason or another. For most, it was being denied the medicine for an ill family member. For some, it was being denied a permit to move do another location. For others, it was simply a matter of feeling suffocated.
Twenty years ago, all three happened to a pair of young boys. Their names were Kamina and Simon.
The rest is history.
...
"We've washed her, fed her, and gave her clothes, but...cap'n, she refuses to wear anything more than her underwear."
Kamina smirks and waves off the ensign. "'Course she doesn't want t'wear anything else. She's a natural-born fighter pilot!"
He nods awkwardly in response. "Y-yes, I figured as much, sir, but, you know--how you get--when--"
The captain sighs. "Ensign..."
"Sir!"
"Shut up."
"S...Sir!"
The pair stop at one of the cabin doors, and Kamina lets himself in. Yoko is found staring out the porthole, watching the clouds go by underneath them, awash with the blinding light from the sun. He leaves the door open and the ensign stands guard. The anarchist doesn't seem to notice the guest--or doesn't care--or even notices the leer running down her backside. They stand in silence for a moment.
"...How long has it been?" the captain asks, considerately quiet.
"Nine months," she replies, denying him eye contact despite his rank. The ensign gnaws on his fingernails.
"I see." He has a seat at the tiny desk (if one could even call it that). "You feelin' better?"
She shrugs. "A little. I still have some sleep to catch up on," was her honest reply.
"I'll leave ya ta' that in a second. Ya still haven't thanked me fer hawlin' yer ass out a'jail." A moment to glance at said ass.
"Conceited asshole."
The ensign bites his nail through to the quick. The captain laughs.
"Ya sense it, then? That I brought ya here for a reason?"
"Mn." If she was looking at him, she certainly would have looked away now.
"I assume y've heard'a Gurren Lagann then." Yoko's heart skips a beat, a sudden chill at the back of her neck. She nods once. "He needs a new pilot."
A beat. Yoko suddenly turns around, slamming her hands upon the table, her face aggressively close to his. "Look here, idiot." So he looks up from her bouncing cleavage. "I may be one of the governments' most wanted, but I never killed anyone, got it? And I'm not about to start just because you felt like being a savior for a day."
A moment of silence passes and the captain simply glares at her. "We ain't killed anyone 'cause we wanted to."
Her expression turns slightly surprised and she backs off--standing upright, but crossing her arms defiantly.
"An' I ain't gonna say that they're jus' collateral damage, either," he continues, "'Cause a human life's more than just'a number. They were all true men an' women who died proudly for their cause, jus' like any'a us would do fer ours."
"I don't believe a word you're saying." No one in their right mind would, she thinks to herself.
"Not expectin' ya to. But you'll see it for yerself." The captain stands from his seat. "So d'ya want me t'show ya to the hangar or what?"
Yoko's not exactly sure how to respond. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure how to respond to any of this. This whole situation was either a nightmare or a dream come true, and she'd been going along with the whole thing complacently as she had figured that, eventually, she'll wake up in her dingy cell once again, or maybe find that she'd already been strapped to the chair and this was a wildly imaginative jolt of electricity frying her brain.
Well, shit, she figures. If it's all in her head she'd might as well accept and enjoy the dream while it lasted.
On the other hand, if it was all real...if she accepted, she would begin down the path of piracy with no chance to turn back. Then again, she chose an irreversible path when she burned down the church.
She jumps in feet first. "Show me the way."
"Ensign."
"Sir?"
"Ya may return t' the bridge." He glances at the young male, noticing his bleeding finger. "An' do somethin' 'bout that nervous tic o' yers."
"Sir!"
...
Before Yoko even realized how she got there, she finds herself standing before Gurren Lagann. He sat almost regal, as sitting upon a giant throne, and here Yoko was, standing on the very same seat. She is perfectly motionless, her heart beating wildly. As much as she'd like to say that she was nervous because she was face to (a) face with the single most deadly fighter ganmen in the world, it simply wasn't true. She was nervous at the idea that she, of all people, Gurren Lagann would accept, and bestow upon her power of immeasurable quantity. That is...if he accepted her.
Slowly, timidly, she reaches out to touch the cold metal of the crotch plate of the large ganmen. Permissively, the mouth-like cockpit shifts open, causing Yoko to jump reflexively. Kamina glances at the ganmen with intrigue--most people didn't even get this far.
He hands her a latex cap. She looks at it, and then to him. "So why aren't you able to pilot him any more?"
Kamina shrugs dismissively. "He jus' won't let me. Says I got more important places t' be."
Seemingly satisfied with his answer, despite the odd look she gives him, she takes the latex cap and stuffs her mass of hair into it. She reaches behind herself and starts undoing her bra clasp, then notices the overly concentrated leer Kamina was giving her.
"Do you mind? This is an intimate moment," she spits.
"Right. Right." He turns around and she continues to undress. As she climbs up to the cockpit, Kamina steals a glance to watch her have a seat inside, initiating the mold process. As the body-warm grey goop seeps out and engulfs Yoko's body, she feels a familiar sleep-like feeling overcome her. As her vision blurs and darkens, the last thing she sees is Kamina giving her a simple nod and the words, "Good luck."
What once started out as a pipe dream for two young men turned into an internationally feared movement. However, nobody seemed to know the origin of Dai-Gurren--as far as citizens were concerned, it was simply a spontaneous gathering of rowdy hoodlums just looking for trouble. The truth was far more complicated than the governments were willing to let their people know.
What, exactly, was the truth, then?
The truth was that, about half a century ago, the world had reached maximum capacity. Resources were running out faster than they could be replenished. At first, it had been good for scientific breakthroughs, but the science simply could not keep up with the constantly exploding population. Erosion made cities dive below the sea, leaving the planet with only 50% of the land it used to. The upper class took to the skies and made their own countries among the clouds. There, they began to govern themselves and those unfortunate enough to still be living on the ground...who had began fighting against each other due to territorial debates, resource availability, and even personal identity. To fix this problem, the upper class took totalitarian rule, taking all of the available land and resources and distributed them equally among the people.
This was more or less accepted with open arms.
"More or less" being the important part.
Every so often, the occasional citizen would rebel against the government, for some reason or another. For most, it was being denied the medicine for an ill family member. For some, it was being denied a permit to move do another location. For others, it was simply a matter of feeling suffocated.
Twenty years ago, all three happened to a pair of young boys. Their names were Kamina and Simon.
The rest is history.
...
"We've washed her, fed her, and gave her clothes, but...cap'n, she refuses to wear anything more than her underwear."
Kamina smirks and waves off the ensign. "'Course she doesn't want t'wear anything else. She's a natural-born fighter pilot!"
He nods awkwardly in response. "Y-yes, I figured as much, sir, but, you know--how you get--when--"
The captain sighs. "Ensign..."
"Sir!"
"Shut up."
"S...Sir!"
The pair stop at one of the cabin doors, and Kamina lets himself in. Yoko is found staring out the porthole, watching the clouds go by underneath them, awash with the blinding light from the sun. He leaves the door open and the ensign stands guard. The anarchist doesn't seem to notice the guest--or doesn't care--or even notices the leer running down her backside. They stand in silence for a moment.
"...How long has it been?" the captain asks, considerately quiet.
"Nine months," she replies, denying him eye contact despite his rank. The ensign gnaws on his fingernails.
"I see." He has a seat at the tiny desk (if one could even call it that). "You feelin' better?"
She shrugs. "A little. I still have some sleep to catch up on," was her honest reply.
"I'll leave ya ta' that in a second. Ya still haven't thanked me fer hawlin' yer ass out a'jail." A moment to glance at said ass.
"Conceited asshole."
The ensign bites his nail through to the quick. The captain laughs.
"Ya sense it, then? That I brought ya here for a reason?"
"Mn." If she was looking at him, she certainly would have looked away now.
"I assume y've heard'a Gurren Lagann then." Yoko's heart skips a beat, a sudden chill at the back of her neck. She nods once. "He needs a new pilot."
A beat. Yoko suddenly turns around, slamming her hands upon the table, her face aggressively close to his. "Look here, idiot." So he looks up from her bouncing cleavage. "I may be one of the governments' most wanted, but I never killed anyone, got it? And I'm not about to start just because you felt like being a savior for a day."
A moment of silence passes and the captain simply glares at her. "We ain't killed anyone 'cause we wanted to."
Her expression turns slightly surprised and she backs off--standing upright, but crossing her arms defiantly.
"An' I ain't gonna say that they're jus' collateral damage, either," he continues, "'Cause a human life's more than just'a number. They were all true men an' women who died proudly for their cause, jus' like any'a us would do fer ours."
"I don't believe a word you're saying." No one in their right mind would, she thinks to herself.
"Not expectin' ya to. But you'll see it for yerself." The captain stands from his seat. "So d'ya want me t'show ya to the hangar or what?"
Yoko's not exactly sure how to respond. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure how to respond to any of this. This whole situation was either a nightmare or a dream come true, and she'd been going along with the whole thing complacently as she had figured that, eventually, she'll wake up in her dingy cell once again, or maybe find that she'd already been strapped to the chair and this was a wildly imaginative jolt of electricity frying her brain.
Well, shit, she figures. If it's all in her head she'd might as well accept and enjoy the dream while it lasted.
On the other hand, if it was all real...if she accepted, she would begin down the path of piracy with no chance to turn back. Then again, she chose an irreversible path when she burned down the church.
She jumps in feet first. "Show me the way."
"Ensign."
"Sir?"
"Ya may return t' the bridge." He glances at the young male, noticing his bleeding finger. "An' do somethin' 'bout that nervous tic o' yers."
"Sir!"
...
Before Yoko even realized how she got there, she finds herself standing before Gurren Lagann. He sat almost regal, as sitting upon a giant throne, and here Yoko was, standing on the very same seat. She is perfectly motionless, her heart beating wildly. As much as she'd like to say that she was nervous because she was face to (a) face with the single most deadly fighter ganmen in the world, it simply wasn't true. She was nervous at the idea that she, of all people, Gurren Lagann would accept, and bestow upon her power of immeasurable quantity. That is...if he accepted her.
Slowly, timidly, she reaches out to touch the cold metal of the crotch plate of the large ganmen. Permissively, the mouth-like cockpit shifts open, causing Yoko to jump reflexively. Kamina glances at the ganmen with intrigue--most people didn't even get this far.
He hands her a latex cap. She looks at it, and then to him. "So why aren't you able to pilot him any more?"
Kamina shrugs dismissively. "He jus' won't let me. Says I got more important places t' be."
Seemingly satisfied with his answer, despite the odd look she gives him, she takes the latex cap and stuffs her mass of hair into it. She reaches behind herself and starts undoing her bra clasp, then notices the overly concentrated leer Kamina was giving her.
"Do you mind? This is an intimate moment," she spits.
"Right. Right." He turns around and she continues to undress. As she climbs up to the cockpit, Kamina steals a glance to watch her have a seat inside, initiating the mold process. As the body-warm grey goop seeps out and engulfs Yoko's body, she feels a familiar sleep-like feeling overcome her. As her vision blurs and darkens, the last thing she sees is Kamina giving her a simple nod and the words, "Good luck."