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Entry tags:
The Alternate Universe Meme
The Alternate Universe Meme
1. Comment with your character.
2. Others will reply with an AU idea.
3. Thread. Profit.
AUs can be any AU of any kind, but if you need ideas, I have this masterlist and this tumblr to get you started.
no subject
When she remembered him, she didn't remember his voice, but rather, she recalled the quirks of it. The way he spoke strangely, with an air of sounding a tad off. "Gross" was part of that impression. Hearing it said plainly on someone else's voice sounded like it was simply wrong. She associated it with someone, and it wasn't the people who said it. It lacked the bite of Akira's tone.
When Hajime's phone goes off with an alert, she expects it to be a GALAX notification. She's left a gift in Utsutsu's house today, a pair of sparkling, black fur cat ears to go upon her avatar's head. Even years later, she is an avid user of the app, and though Utsutsu only opens it once in a while, now, Hajime still thinks to leave her something new to discover every time she does. Out of the apartment complex, she suspects that Utsutsu has discovered the digital accessory and was sending her a thank you message for it, as is customary, but instead, it's a text notification.
Curious, she places down the box of fries, and picks the phone up off the table. WacDonald's sits forgotten for a moment as ๐๐๐Akirakira๐๐๐ blinks at her. The display leaves her speechless for a moment, breath caught in her throat. It's trapped there as she stares at the name, the fact there is a notification at all. It's the preview of the message pushes it out in a loud, drawn out scream -- several patrons of this particular fast food chain turn to look at her.
She doesn't care.
Akira answered.
She taps the screen, opening up the conversation, and -- it's... it's real.
"Gross grooooooss"... A sensation bubbles up inside her, popping like an evening out at the end of the night. There's the promise of comfort, like a warm bed, waiting for her. It's calming, and it feels right. Just seeing it typed like that is enough for her to feel like that feeling of deja vu won't overcome her.
This is absolutely him.
Hajime's body quivers in sheer delight, fingers unsteady as she tries to unlock her phone. A pleased noise escapes her and an employee shoots her a glare but she doesn't care because Hajime slams the call button with all the excitement of ten years of build up hitting her. No, it's more than that. It's been twenty five years since she's seen him, if she includes the time in Koriko. The name of the island seems like something she's only heard in passing, at this point; there are times when she wonders how it is that she was able to live two different lives. Another five years and she'd have lived through the beginning of her life without him, again. But this... Hajime prods at herself with the plastic fork in disbelief. It stings, and she squeals again. It's real! Without a doubt, the no longer mysterious Akira Midousuji is calling her!
She expects it to, just like last time, go straight to his voice mail. Maybe it's only a temporary signal, she thinks. Hajime prepares herself for this possibility, eyes wide and glimmering with excitement. It's hard to beat herself into a state where she's prepared to say goodbye, again -- but Akira's like something of a high school sweetheart, right? Even if it was more of a work place thing.
The other sign of the line rings. ]
no subject
It's terrifying.
All the same, it's not. It makes him want to run, but he steels himself with his phone held firmly in his two hands. But before he can take the call, Akira makes sure to glance up again, just to have a look around this familiar Tachikawa that seems surreal all the same. And surreal is what he's met with: the curve of the modern-looking rails, the towering, bright white Lumine building across from him, even the division from architecture to the sky overhead seems sharper to his eyes. People in all shapes and colors flock around the station, peppering the pavement with color that surrounds him. He exhales through his mouth: he hadn't realized he was holding his breath like this.
It rings twice.
...It's definitely not a matter of whether he's ready or not. In fact, he's not ready at all. "That'd be weird." All he can do is make the choice: answer it, or not. But he doesn't know why he didn't anticipate that she'd call.
Maybe he thought she'd abstain at first. Find it inappropriate. Pfft. As if! He knows better, when it comes to Hajime. She goes right for what she wants!
Or maybe he thought she'd send him a message first, something he can see with his eyes and digest for as long as he needs. But any sort of desire for that kind of outcome is shut down immediately. Akira doesn't need that kind of treatment, and he can manipulate and spin a conversation just the same. What's with these excuses? They're all to keep from taking the call. Am I afraid...?
Without giving himself another chance to think it over, Akira swipes the accept icon just before the placed call makes it to the third ring.]
...
[...He's convinced himself that he can take this call, easy.
That there should be no evidence of anticipation, no sight of the ten years he spent waiting for the chance to reach out to the first person who touched him so remarkably, but it's too much. It sparks in his blood, pricks at his skin. Nerves electric, mind running faster than he could ever hope to compare on his bike. But the call is answered here, and...
Akira wants to give Hajime something of him after she, too, spent years and years with a contact that never replied to her. He remembers wishing that he still had her number in his phone so that he could put his many thoughts somewhere, so that he could give them to somebody he knew deep down was real and shared his experiences. Even if the possibility existed that she'd never get them, he occasionally wished anyway. But Akira didn't have a Hajime!! in his phone any longer, so naturally, his thoughts stayed with him, on lock-down. Stayed in his head, stayed in his heart to be spent on blood, sweat and exertion beyond his limits.
See, in retrospect, he considers that having her number would be harder than not. Hajime had his all this time, and years went by where she pondered his relevance to her with nothing heard back. She figured it out after all, but a name that gave no words lingered in her phone for ages, and he wonders if she might have wondered if it would just stay there forever like that.
Ultimately, why would she waste her time with some written words when she could call? She wouldn't wait longer than she had to for this, and she's not one to hold back when she wants something. The very thought gets Akira to crack a wide smile, as pearly white and perfectly maintained as ever, before he begins.]
Would an "alien" give you his number where you're from? Just like that?
no subject
The bell over the door chimes as she opens it, and his voice exits the the speaker of her phone. It hits her like an electric jolt, and she looks through the crowds like she might see him on his De Rosa, mixed in with all the faces. It sounds off, just a bit; there's certainly a maturity that he's gained, and he sounds older, or maybe memory has decayed specific qualities of his voice to her. She remembers a snappy tone with a higher pitch than his appearance hinted at. There's a hint of the voice she remembers, though, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh that threatens to spill out, born of sheer excitement. ]
You're the one who left me a text message back on Koriko, though! So it doesn't really matter what an alien would do. Actually, I don't think an alien would keep me waiting this long. It's uniquely Akirakira to make a girl hold onto hope for years.
[ He's the only person who would do this to her, she knows. To that end, he's the only one she'd wait this long for. If it were anyone else, she'd be logical; holding out for an old flame from a parallel universe? That's something that only happens in movies and fantasies, cellphone novels that go on too long and are downtrodden with a desire to make to reach for the tissue box. When it came to being in the situation, though, Hajime finds herself waiting twenty five years for Akira Midousuji, who is something more of a concept now than a solid being.
...Or he would be, if she weren't on the phone with him right now. A horribly exhilarating concept, terrifying in just how huge it is. She considers the possibility that she's dreaming this. Hajime ponders that maybe she'll wake up as soon as she gets to Akira, like all the other dreams she's had like this. He contacts her, she makes her way over, and just as his face comes into view... She wakes up. She hasn't been able to picture Akira as a young adult since the dreams started. She looks toward the picture stuck to the shade on her lamp, and sees an awkward teenager. But what if an adult Akira? Someone who has grown up in a Kyoto where she can't reach him. Is he doing well? Did he get taller? There's barely any hints of an adult physique in that picture, but she imagines that Akira wouldn't get broader, anyway. He's gangly, and that's part of his charm.
She remembers the evening before Christmas Eve. A setting sun, a doppelganger, gold hued eyes. Hajime stared up at him and thought he looked like an adorable gecko, the sort you could see scurrying across rocks in the summer. It's true of that picture, but an adult Akira...? She wonders. Where has life taken him? ]
I can't wait any longer, tell me where you are right now!
[ To prove it, G-101 fires up in a burst of white and pink light. The telltale mechanical sound of her wings opening up resounds in the background, among the white noise of a crowd of onlookers. Reckless, of course, but there's nothing about this situation that isn't incredible, impossible, fantastical, and Hajime won't condemn herself to running all the way to wherever it is that he's situated. A few minutes might be nothing to what feels like half her lifetime, but it's a few minutes she could cut short by bursting over there screaming at the top of her lungs for him. ]
no subject
This is all going way too fast. He exhales, and his thumb hovers over the end call button. ...Why would he do that? The very thought of doing it has some weight nestling itself between his ribs where it's unwanted, and it's not the same sort of weight that he experiences when he thinks about seeing her again.
Funny, how both things remind him of weight. Weight, which is burdensome in the case of hanging up, but that weight that he feels when he imagines her dark hair, her pale eyes, or even what he thinks he heard as G-101 over the speaker... That's the same weight that makes him feel like he'll never tire, isn't it?
It's been ten years, and Akira has had time to digest that feeling. He's had time to race in Tour de France, where he thought of his mother as he pedaled for his dear life and won the yellow jersey in his very first Tour at age 22. Subsequently, it's where he won the white jersey to boot โ where on the final stage, the thought of seeing Hajime in the crowds overcame him and burdened him with a weight so heavy of longing, for a moment, he thought it might crush him.
But instead, he absorbed it through his sweat-slicked skin. The weight powered his pedals, and he raised his head as he crossed the finish. ...Rainbow was not his color to wear over the past few years, but since then, it's been his desire. Yellow obtained, white earned, and this year...
This year, he's going to meet Hajime again. Akira brings the phone back to his ear, and he regains the grounding he needs to proceed.]
Aren't you in a rush... No matter how fast you go, if I'm not real, you won't find me at the end. [Somehow, he gets the feeling. Even if she gives no indication of her worries, she's not alone there.] Tachikawa's not a place I go regularly, so I don't know my way around... So I couldn't tell you where. I. Ammmm.
[He's stalling her, more than anything. There's easily something he can tell her about his location, and he's staring at it right now with a grin. Akira tilts his head as he runs his free hand through his hair, pushing it back with his fingers.]
Buuuut... You could try that Lumine building. You might find me, as long as you don't keep me waiting.
no subject
Hey, are we playing Hot and Cold? We totally are, aren't we? Okay, hold on!
[ A rush of wind slams into her -- Hajime takes flight and holds onto her phone, tightly. Certainly, the prospect of meeting someone she's only been able to talk to through text messages that never made their way across the bridge between worlds before strikes a chord in her. Fear, maybe? It mingles with the excitement that's been rooted inside her since she looked at Akira and knew, without a doubt, that even if it was a fluke, even if there was so much going against this, he wasn't a mistake in her life.
She sought him out after landing on Koriko, and she's going to do it again. The fear is overpowered -- she has a lot to say, and do. Did his hands get any better? Has he won Tour de France yet? There's been a question of "would he win?" He would. It's just a question of when.
The telltale figure of G-101 crosses over the building, and it glitters like stardust but feels like an imitation of something far more magical. Hajime's voice breaks through again, excited and abrupt. ]
Hot or cold? Cold or Hot? Hoooooooooooot! Or Cold? [ She whips her head around: up, down, side to side, but she continues floating over the rooftop of Lumine. Pink pingtails that look like they shouldn't move so similarly to hair toss about, moving organically as possible. It's hard to miss the lit up suit of armor, with the bright lights, and neon colors, but Akira's a little more difficult to spot from this angle.
Still, she tries. She's always tried to see him. ]
no subject
[There it continues, that smile on his voice that brims wider and wider the closer she gets. It's terrifying, being pursued, and Akira feels himself fading into the crowds. He's taller than everybody around him, true, but it's like a voluntary thing to keep out of sight โ or maybe, it's to keep Hajime out of his.
She hasn't changed. He expected that. Sure, sure: Hajime has likely changed in some ways that are more subtle, but a person like her has a core that stays true to Hajime, just as his own core is truly Akira. A nonsense game at a time like this? Sure, he'll play. He'll stand back up and stand out from the crowd again, and he'll look up at the sky โ he hears rockets, so she must be upwards.
The sky is bright, but the speck of Hajime above the department store is somehow brighter. He doesn't squint, but he stares. Akira soaks in the first sight of G-101 he's had in years, knowing that it's Hajime all the same and she's there, for real... Is this real? Is it?
...A game of Hot or Cold may as well serve as the judge. That's right, he'll play. He'll play along, and let this game prove to him what's real and what's not.]
You're warmer than before, but you're not thinking about it through my eyes just yet. You're too worked up! Gross!
[He snaps his teeth together in a smile.]
I see the Lumine building... and I see you. Knowing this, where am I...? Where am I, Hajime?
no subject
That's because I'm not you, Akira!
[ Not matter how much they'd bonded, they were themselves. There was no new conglomerate of the two of them, just Hajime and Akira, a pair who had once been strangers that now bore matching scars on different parts of their bodies. It's true -- she isn't him. She doesn't know where he's parked his bike or what he looks like, even. You can't hide Akira in a crowd, she realizes: he stands out in a crowd. It isn't necessarily because he's unusual looking, though that's apart of it. Akira's height places him above many of the heads in the crowd, and Hajime decides that there's no way she'll miss him.
The fact Akira can see her means that he isn't far, but he isn't close, either. She thinks to possibly ask him to describe where it is that he's situated, but she realizes that he wouldn't make this so easy on her, either. It's a game, after all, with high stakes: he wants her to find him on her own. ]
Let's see, Akirakira can see me but I can't see him...
[ G-101 spins, floating still. A thought strikes her, and she pulls the phone away, but not before turning up the call volume, and putting him on speaker. ]
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakiraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
[ Depending on how far away he is, she should be able to hear the echo from his end, she thinks ]
no subject
She's not him, and that's just normal. What he expected her to do with that request is something smart, tactical, thoughtful, and Hajime doesn't let him down. She clicks at her phone and he wonders if she's hanging up all the way up there, but when she holds it away from her and calls out to him, it becomes clear what she's doing. What Hajime will hear is a distance just close enough for her voice to hit the speaker of his phone faintly, so she'll hear it from that end. This also means that her voice is loud enough to turn heads all around.
And faintly, from Akira's end, is the confusion of Tachikawa's citizens that surround the cyclist.]
"Gatchaman...? Did she just say Akira?"
"Look! It's Hajime!"
[The attention on Hajime, however, has Akira slinking back on reflex. He steps away from the crowd of people semi-frozen in their busy tracks, back toward the wall of a surrounding building where his bicycle is propped. And belatedly, he realizes he inadvertently isolated himself... Being mixed with the crowd was the most concealed place to be, wasn't it? The all-rounder groans, and his voice is more of a hiss than before โ it seems he doesn't want the surrounding people to get the idea that he's on the phone with their beloved Gatchaman, now that he's realized they all know her and regard her fondly.
Because of course they do.]
Do you have to be so noisy?!
[...Akira thinks to point out that everybody's looking at her now, but somehow, he gets the feeling that she doesn't mind. And he, too, has grown used to audiences... But not off his bicycle and out of his element. At this rate, she'll spot him and come right down to him so that everybody sees who this Akira is โ him! Guilty by association, and Akira feels all he can do is await whatever vomit-inducing scene comes next. Vomit-inducing, dizzying, heart-thudding, nerve-wracking... What is with this mess of sensations, anyway? Akira holds the phone away from his mouth so that he can catch a deep breath without it being too apparent. This doesn't scare him.
It just makes him feel. The moment is real around him, as vivid as a race taking place in a sea of sunflowers all facing the same direction, that exhilaration of the moment... That's what it is.]