[ It's like being underwater, or fielding a drop with faulty oxygen. All the edges filed off, the hurt shadowed. Everything distant and strange. Like it's happening to someone else. Rodriguez had tricks for shutting himself off, putting his mind into boxes, but Ephemera could never manage them. Rodriguez once set up a shot and stayed there for a full thirty hours before taking it. Mental discipline. Sniper tricks. All that bullshit. Ephemera's never been able to do it. He's always tied to the moment, to the present. There's no shaking it, no matter how fucked up he gets.
This is happening. It shouldn't be.
The flip. The world tilts, goes crooked around the edges, and Felix has him by the hair again. Wrenching him down until their foreheads crack together and -
Oh, Ephemera thinks, and goes very still. He tastes blood in his mouth, in his throat.
For a moment, he doesn't breathe. Because that -
It's familiar, that gesture. A kindness, in another context. With his team, his family. They couldn't hold each other in the field, not with their armor and with plasma rifles raining down on them, but they could bump their helmets together. A reminder. I've got you, my brother, my sister. Breathe.
Ephemera shifts. He ought to go for Felix's throat, his eyes, something. Maybe even get his hands around Felix's throat and snap his neck. End this. The angle isn't good but he's worked with worse. He's done this before. Armored, unarmored, it really doesn't matter.
Instead, he puts his hand over the back of Felix's neck. Shielding the implant. ]
Breathe.
[ Unlike before, his voice is calm. Hoarse, but calm. ]
no subject
This is happening. It shouldn't be.
The flip. The world tilts, goes crooked around the edges, and Felix has him by the hair again. Wrenching him down until their foreheads crack together and -
Oh, Ephemera thinks, and goes very still. He tastes blood in his mouth, in his throat.
For a moment, he doesn't breathe. Because that -
It's familiar, that gesture. A kindness, in another context. With his team, his family. They couldn't hold each other in the field, not with their armor and with plasma rifles raining down on them, but they could bump their helmets together. A reminder. I've got you, my brother, my sister. Breathe.
Ephemera shifts. He ought to go for Felix's throat, his eyes, something. Maybe even get his hands around Felix's throat and snap his neck. End this. The angle isn't good but he's worked with worse. He's done this before. Armored, unarmored, it really doesn't matter.
Instead, he puts his hand over the back of Felix's neck. Shielding the implant. ]
Breathe.
[ Unlike before, his voice is calm. Hoarse, but calm. ]