bigblondmotherhen | ic

[ it's fresh enough; a few days time does little to heal, even in the fast paced life of a Jaeger pilot. their work dictated that much had to be forgiven quicker than the average civilian, but that hadn't been a usual scenario.

it troubled Herc enough that his already erratic sleep schedule was even worse. it shows in the shadows under his eyes and the fact that he hasn't shaved in a few days when Yancy shows up. he also doesn't have Max.

he nods when Yancy arrives. ]

You like music?

[ everyone does, but Herc wasn't the best at segues ]

[ the question is a little odd, but it's something he can roll with and it's something to focus on even when he notices that herc looks like he's seen better days.

( in retrospect, they all could use a do-over. )

yancy nods slowly. ] 'Course, sir. Why do you ask?

Music shop opened.

[ half turning, he throws the scrap of cloth he'd been using to wipe his hands off back into the apartment before closing the door. he doesn't actually invite him, there's no you coming?

he just starts walking, assumes Yancy will catch up. ]

[ he blinks at the statement and follows sure enough, pace falling in time with the Marshal's -- it is still, so, so very strange to think of Herc as that, but so is the idea that Raleigh is older than him now.

he's heard about how the shops open and close. how they seem to rotate with very little rhyme or reason. apparently this week is a music shop and since he hasn't been quite around town as he probably should for leisure purposes, this is a good an opportunity as any.

he keeps the silence that settles, takes his cue from his superior because words can sometimes muddle things up. ]

[ it's a little odd; even when he'd met Yancy before, when Raleigh and he had piloted Gipsy, there hadn't been this strained divide. Herc had always been the man to be out in the field; one of the boys. this new position was still taking it's toll on him.

they walk in silence until they're well out of the building, and Herc shoves his hands in his pockets. ]

Thanks.

[ it comes out of no where, seemingly ]

[ he blinks for a moment, step halting for half a second before he catches up again. ] Sir?

[ there are few people in the world who can make yancy feel young. having grown up too fast in order to look out for raleigh, he'd had to make the choice to leave his childhood behind. that meant being able to level with his superiors, to think of himself as someone worthy of standing as an equal in their presence.

it's an easy enough thing among the ppdc, where the only real sense of heirarchy comes own to yourself and the marshal -- stacker pentecost. a man worthy of such incredible respect. and while he's still getting used to the idea of herc hansen in that same position now, here, in zelien, it's not difficult to give the man the respect that comes easy.

because there are few people in the world that yancy looks up to with the same awe of a teenager in the presence of a hero. ]

For what, sir?

For comin' to get my sorry ass.

[ the answer comes out dry because Herc may be a marshall now, but he's no cleaner than he used to be. what Stacker always had, the straight spine and the clip to his walk— that'd never been Herc. there's something hunched in Herc's shoulders, the sort of scrappy lean that a tougher crowd is versed in.

he can talk a good game, but he doesn't like to. doesn't see a point to flashy talk, doesn't have the time for it. ]

I wasn't thinkin' straight out there. [ a beat, and his voice quiets ] Maybe the whole week.

Don't think any of us were thinking straight that week, sir.

[ It's true. He might not have lost his drift, but it had been unsettling to find someone else in his head where Raleigh was supposed to be.

It was if someone had crept in and changed the settings of something fundamental while he'd slept. He hadn't liked it. Not one bit. ]

And no thanks needed, sir. [ His voice is soft. He's always admired Herc. There were few people far between that could inspire the almost awed kind of respect for authority that Yancy has for the older man. One was Stacker Pentecost. Others were the pilots of jaegers who had come before Gipsy Danger. All were people of exceptional caliber. ] You'd do the same for any of us.

[ Herc nods, because the statement is true enough, and he's never been a man of many words. but there are some things, he's learned, that shouldn't go unsaid. there are too many people he hasn't thanked, too many words that should have been said and instead met with empty air— he should have had the revelation a long time ago.

it took losing Stacker, losing his son to make any kind of difference. he wonders if he'd feel the same back on their own Earth, where he was left with nothing but the empty legacy of the PPDC and a bulldog. ]

Still worth saying. [ he grunts. ]

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lets play the how late can i tag you back game

not as late as i will be once i dig up the link for that fight i owe you

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