gundam 00; lockon/tieria
A birthday gift for kurotobi, posted on here for archiving-woo purposes!
An albumfic of Feist's The Reminder, set through S1 to before the beginning of S2; pg.
The Water
You hope for your babies and this is how they grow
Wind-battered, knocked over
The teeth by the shoulder
Watching the gray sky that's acting like a good guy
The water came to realize
It's dangerous size
The mountain
Came to recognize
It's deep and rocky sides
We are born into this world vulnerable. We are born as squalling infants or as the conception of an idea and upon us are laid expectations and hopes like armour. We go out into our wars, but these do not protect us from the engineering of bombs or the harshness of purpose, and so, we find new armour and new weapons.
So Sorry
Old actions of mine when patience is in short supply
We don't need to say goodbye
We don't need to fight and cry
Oh we, we could hold each other tight
Tonight
We're so helpless
We're slaves to our own forces
We're afraid of our emotions
No one knows where the shore is
We're divided by the ocean
He doesn’t feel anything when Lockon’s hands grip the collar of his flight suit. Not even pain or discomfort at the chafing, or the tightening of Lockon’s fingers, much less any reaction to Lockon’s words, despite how they are thrown at him, like knives, like an anachronism he has no use for.
Lockon walks away, tells Haro to leave him and Tieria watches his silhouette in the half-light, with the gun at his hip melding into his outline like another bone. Yet what he sees in his mind is the completion of the plan, as certain as the tide at his feet.
Intuition
And it's impossible to tell
How important something was
And what you might have missed out on
And how it might have changed it all
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
And did I, did I miss out on you?
Lockon comes back hours later. Setsuna, Allelujah, Sumeragi, Ian give way to him as he walks to his room. Tieria does not move and Lockon glances at him, briefly, dismissingly, before the door slides to a close. And it is as if they are at the beach again, the ocean, the tides, the mission dividing them. It is an old action, standing still. But in this old action, Tieria experiences something new. Possibilities and consequences swim through his mind, but instead of hostages and the red flame flares of a tower’s wreckage, it is what if he had indeed reacted, moved aside for Lockon. What if he had done something more? The deep lines on Lockon face as he had walked past them.
Sea Lion Woman
See-lion woman
She drinks coffee
She drinks tea
And we're so cold
There are moments when he can’t stand any of it. There are moments when he wakes up, and while he knows who he is, he isn’t sure where he is. He wonders what he is doing here and he wants to laugh at his presumptions. His presumptions that he can change, or that he can cause change, or even that even if he does, whether he can truly atone. What does he think he’s doing?
Or, he knows where he is, but he isn’t sure who he is anymore. He tells Feldt to call him Neil Dylandy because he feels like he is forgetting his name. Lockon, Neil, looks up at the gridded white ceiling of his sleeping cell and he yearns for gravity. He yearns for a force to pull him back. To pull time back. The two are at conflict with each other, identity and proximity, longing and realization. A churning, a tension that he carries as he walks through the Ptolemaios, he walks on dry land, and his face changes, it stays the same.
My Moon My Man
Take it slow
Take it easy on me
Shed some light
Shed some light on things
Take it slow
Take it easy on me
Shed some light
Shed some light on it please
It has surprised both of them with its intensity, its existence. It has changed them, with its intensity, with its existence. They are so unused to the warmth of another and while there are times when Lockon asks “wait” and Tieria whispers “slower”, they continue. Tieria curls his fingers around Lockon’s hair, and Lockon, his lips against Tieria’s head murmurs that this losing his left sight is not so bad.
Brandy Alexander
He's my Brandy Alexander
Always gets me into trouble
But that's another matter
Brandy Alexander
He's my Brandy Alexander
Always gets me into trouble
But that's another matter
Brandy Alexander
I'm his Brandy Alexander
Always get him into trouble
I hide that I am flattered
Brandy Alexander
I'm his Brandy Alexander
Always get him into trouble
I hide that I am flattered
Brandy Alexander
It goes down easy, easy...
They’re almost discovered. It’s past the middle of the night, or what accounts for the middle of the night in the middle of space. They’re a tangle of limbs and sweat (the taste of salt still on Lockon’s tongue). They can’t move for fear of being noticed, but they want to, want to.
“Will they leave, do you think?” Lockon murmurs. Tieria doesn’t answer, not because he doesn’t believe that the question is unworthy of an answer, but because Lockon’s mouth is at his earlobe, his breath warming his face. He loses his breath and when it comes back, he cannot do anything but hold it.
They don’t notice when the person outside leaves, if the person leaves at all, it doesn’t matter.
The Limit to Your Love
There's a limit to your love
Like a waterfall in slow motion
Like a map with no ocean
There's a limit to your love
Your love, your love, your love
Because there is no limit
There's no limit no limit no limit, to my love
Although they can lie in front of the screen and find infinity reflected, they know that they are finite.
Tieria clutches him, his fingers pressing into his shoulder, as if one or the other of them would break, his body tense, his body almost shaking. “Survive, survive, survive,” his arms tightening, his hands clenching. Lockon holds him, strokes his cheeks, wipes his eyes and says to him “shh, shh, yes.”
But above him, his mother, father, Amy, Lyle, hover.
I Feel It All
I feel it all, I feel it all
I feel it all, I feel it all
The wings are wide, the wings are wide
Wild card in sight, wild card in sight
Can I love you more
I love you more
I don't know what I knew before
Is it their knowledge of how fragile their time together that seems to imbue it with this sense of lightness, preciousness - Lockon isn’t sure how to describe it. He hasn’t felt this before. He doesn’t know what to compare it to. There is his wonder too, wonder at the contours of Tieria’s face, the perfection that he now explores, wonder at how the tone of Tieria’s voice changes when he says his name, wonder at how often Tieria is now in his mind.
When he raises the sight to his eye and aims at Ali Al-Saachez, it is with him, wonder and gratitude at being given this gift before parting.
One Two Three Four
1 2 3 4, tell me that you love me more
1 2 3 4 5 6 9 or 10
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then
1 2 3 4 5 6 9 or 10
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then
This time he’s the one who can’t see. He can’t see anything at all, all his vision is dark and he can’t feel anything except for this rending pain in his chest, did he get injured, but no he didn’t, though he wishes he had been, he wishes he had been there, he wishes he had been able to protect him, to stop him. But it isn’t enough, it isn’t enough, what he had done, tried to do wasn’t enough.
The tears won’t stop, they won’t stop, they and the pain and the desperation are the only things that are enough at the moment and Tieria screams.
Honey Honey
Honey honey out on the sea
In the doldrums thinking of me
Me on dry land thinking of he
Honey honey not next to me
Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Do you think he'd come back
Would he come back?
There are days, hours, weeks - he cannot count anymore - when he waits. What he is waiting for he isn’t sure, he isn’t sure of many things nowadays. Certainty is small now and the distance between them is wider than the sea, the distance between them is unsurpassable.
In his deepest knowledge, he is waiting for him to come back. How, he doesn’t know. But if there is one thing that he has learnt from being human, from Lockon, it is hope.
The Park
Why would he come back through the park
You thought that you saw him, but no you did not
It's not him coming across the sea to surprise you
Not him who would know where in London to find you
Sadness so real that it populates
The city and leaves you homeless again
Steam from a cup and snow on the path
The seasons have changed from the present to past
The past...
There's hope to have
In the past...
He runs through the whole city, through alleyways labyrinthine, through sprawling fields, past the commerce of the shops. What was it? A glimpse of brown hair, or a certain intonation of voice, or maybe it was the way he leaned against the sign at the corner. He sees him everywhere, he knows, but he thinks that this time, it might be real.
It is already dark, he has been running since the morning. But he doesn’t stop searching. Each figure he passes is a leap of his heart and then a symbol of loss.
Past in Present
So much present inside my present
Inside my present so...so much past
Inside my present inside my past
Inside my present
So, so
It’s real this time, it must be. He can see the threads on Lockon’s vest and the dark sheen of his eyepatch. His memory, even as it is, has not captured these accurately. He doesn’t dare walk closer or stretch out to touch him in case he vanishes (again). All he can do is talk, but he has become clumsy and the words aren’t the ones he means. He does want to ask him why, why did he leave him, did he know how much he wanted him to live, but at the same time, he is here and it is enough. Lockon smiles, tells him to ‘change the world for me’ and yes it is enough.
How My Heart Behaves
A cold heart will burst.
A calm heart will break.
An albumfic of Feist's The Reminder, set through S1 to before the beginning of S2; pg.
The Water
You hope for your babies and this is how they grow
Wind-battered, knocked over
The teeth by the shoulder
Watching the gray sky that's acting like a good guy
The water came to realize
It's dangerous size
The mountain
Came to recognize
It's deep and rocky sides
We are born into this world vulnerable. We are born as squalling infants or as the conception of an idea and upon us are laid expectations and hopes like armour. We go out into our wars, but these do not protect us from the engineering of bombs or the harshness of purpose, and so, we find new armour and new weapons.
So Sorry
Old actions of mine when patience is in short supply
We don't need to say goodbye
We don't need to fight and cry
Oh we, we could hold each other tight
Tonight
We're so helpless
We're slaves to our own forces
We're afraid of our emotions
No one knows where the shore is
We're divided by the ocean
He doesn’t feel anything when Lockon’s hands grip the collar of his flight suit. Not even pain or discomfort at the chafing, or the tightening of Lockon’s fingers, much less any reaction to Lockon’s words, despite how they are thrown at him, like knives, like an anachronism he has no use for.
Lockon walks away, tells Haro to leave him and Tieria watches his silhouette in the half-light, with the gun at his hip melding into his outline like another bone. Yet what he sees in his mind is the completion of the plan, as certain as the tide at his feet.
Intuition
And it's impossible to tell
How important something was
And what you might have missed out on
And how it might have changed it all
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
And did I, did I miss out on you?
Lockon comes back hours later. Setsuna, Allelujah, Sumeragi, Ian give way to him as he walks to his room. Tieria does not move and Lockon glances at him, briefly, dismissingly, before the door slides to a close. And it is as if they are at the beach again, the ocean, the tides, the mission dividing them. It is an old action, standing still. But in this old action, Tieria experiences something new. Possibilities and consequences swim through his mind, but instead of hostages and the red flame flares of a tower’s wreckage, it is what if he had indeed reacted, moved aside for Lockon. What if he had done something more? The deep lines on Lockon face as he had walked past them.
Sea Lion Woman
See-lion woman
She drinks coffee
She drinks tea
And we're so cold
There are moments when he can’t stand any of it. There are moments when he wakes up, and while he knows who he is, he isn’t sure where he is. He wonders what he is doing here and he wants to laugh at his presumptions. His presumptions that he can change, or that he can cause change, or even that even if he does, whether he can truly atone. What does he think he’s doing?
Or, he knows where he is, but he isn’t sure who he is anymore. He tells Feldt to call him Neil Dylandy because he feels like he is forgetting his name. Lockon, Neil, looks up at the gridded white ceiling of his sleeping cell and he yearns for gravity. He yearns for a force to pull him back. To pull time back. The two are at conflict with each other, identity and proximity, longing and realization. A churning, a tension that he carries as he walks through the Ptolemaios, he walks on dry land, and his face changes, it stays the same.
My Moon My Man
Take it slow
Take it easy on me
Shed some light
Shed some light on things
Take it slow
Take it easy on me
Shed some light
Shed some light on it please
It has surprised both of them with its intensity, its existence. It has changed them, with its intensity, with its existence. They are so unused to the warmth of another and while there are times when Lockon asks “wait” and Tieria whispers “slower”, they continue. Tieria curls his fingers around Lockon’s hair, and Lockon, his lips against Tieria’s head murmurs that this losing his left sight is not so bad.
Brandy Alexander
He's my Brandy Alexander
Always gets me into trouble
But that's another matter
Brandy Alexander
He's my Brandy Alexander
Always gets me into trouble
But that's another matter
Brandy Alexander
I'm his Brandy Alexander
Always get him into trouble
I hide that I am flattered
Brandy Alexander
I'm his Brandy Alexander
Always get him into trouble
I hide that I am flattered
Brandy Alexander
It goes down easy, easy...
They’re almost discovered. It’s past the middle of the night, or what accounts for the middle of the night in the middle of space. They’re a tangle of limbs and sweat (the taste of salt still on Lockon’s tongue). They can’t move for fear of being noticed, but they want to, want to.
“Will they leave, do you think?” Lockon murmurs. Tieria doesn’t answer, not because he doesn’t believe that the question is unworthy of an answer, but because Lockon’s mouth is at his earlobe, his breath warming his face. He loses his breath and when it comes back, he cannot do anything but hold it.
They don’t notice when the person outside leaves, if the person leaves at all, it doesn’t matter.
The Limit to Your Love
There's a limit to your love
Like a waterfall in slow motion
Like a map with no ocean
There's a limit to your love
Your love, your love, your love
Because there is no limit
There's no limit no limit no limit, to my love
Although they can lie in front of the screen and find infinity reflected, they know that they are finite.
Tieria clutches him, his fingers pressing into his shoulder, as if one or the other of them would break, his body tense, his body almost shaking. “Survive, survive, survive,” his arms tightening, his hands clenching. Lockon holds him, strokes his cheeks, wipes his eyes and says to him “shh, shh, yes.”
But above him, his mother, father, Amy, Lyle, hover.
I Feel It All
I feel it all, I feel it all
I feel it all, I feel it all
The wings are wide, the wings are wide
Wild card in sight, wild card in sight
Can I love you more
I love you more
I don't know what I knew before
Is it their knowledge of how fragile their time together that seems to imbue it with this sense of lightness, preciousness - Lockon isn’t sure how to describe it. He hasn’t felt this before. He doesn’t know what to compare it to. There is his wonder too, wonder at the contours of Tieria’s face, the perfection that he now explores, wonder at how the tone of Tieria’s voice changes when he says his name, wonder at how often Tieria is now in his mind.
When he raises the sight to his eye and aims at Ali Al-Saachez, it is with him, wonder and gratitude at being given this gift before parting.
One Two Three Four
1 2 3 4, tell me that you love me more
1 2 3 4 5 6 9 or 10
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then
1 2 3 4 5 6 9 or 10
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then
This time he’s the one who can’t see. He can’t see anything at all, all his vision is dark and he can’t feel anything except for this rending pain in his chest, did he get injured, but no he didn’t, though he wishes he had been, he wishes he had been there, he wishes he had been able to protect him, to stop him. But it isn’t enough, it isn’t enough, what he had done, tried to do wasn’t enough.
The tears won’t stop, they won’t stop, they and the pain and the desperation are the only things that are enough at the moment and Tieria screams.
Honey Honey
Honey honey out on the sea
In the doldrums thinking of me
Me on dry land thinking of he
Honey honey not next to me
Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Do you think he'd come back
Would he come back?
There are days, hours, weeks - he cannot count anymore - when he waits. What he is waiting for he isn’t sure, he isn’t sure of many things nowadays. Certainty is small now and the distance between them is wider than the sea, the distance between them is unsurpassable.
In his deepest knowledge, he is waiting for him to come back. How, he doesn’t know. But if there is one thing that he has learnt from being human, from Lockon, it is hope.
The Park
Why would he come back through the park
You thought that you saw him, but no you did not
It's not him coming across the sea to surprise you
Not him who would know where in London to find you
Sadness so real that it populates
The city and leaves you homeless again
Steam from a cup and snow on the path
The seasons have changed from the present to past
The past...
There's hope to have
In the past...
He runs through the whole city, through alleyways labyrinthine, through sprawling fields, past the commerce of the shops. What was it? A glimpse of brown hair, or a certain intonation of voice, or maybe it was the way he leaned against the sign at the corner. He sees him everywhere, he knows, but he thinks that this time, it might be real.
It is already dark, he has been running since the morning. But he doesn’t stop searching. Each figure he passes is a leap of his heart and then a symbol of loss.
Past in Present
So much present inside my present
Inside my present so...so much past
Inside my present inside my past
Inside my present
So, so
It’s real this time, it must be. He can see the threads on Lockon’s vest and the dark sheen of his eyepatch. His memory, even as it is, has not captured these accurately. He doesn’t dare walk closer or stretch out to touch him in case he vanishes (again). All he can do is talk, but he has become clumsy and the words aren’t the ones he means. He does want to ask him why, why did he leave him, did he know how much he wanted him to live, but at the same time, he is here and it is enough. Lockon smiles, tells him to ‘change the world for me’ and yes it is enough.
How My Heart Behaves
A cold heart will burst.
A calm heart will break.