kumous | yay friends!!!!!!!

VAAAAAL

the randomizer chose me for you! sorry if this makes you cringe, but i asked boba a few things and hunted down any open inbox i could between kenos and erku and decided reading the setting/lore for erku was a little less intimidating, so that's where i focused for the most part.

sorry if any characterization or interpretations of dynamics were off, but i had a really fun time reading how your ships developed from what i could read!!

i don't know where eustace punched miles edgeworth, but that's a thread i want to read, and i'm still going to ask you to talk about your ships when we meet hehehe

thank you for being my friend!!! i'm really happy we met and have been talking more! i hope the rest of the holiday season treats you well, and i hope you enjoy this!! these?

(you voice) the forbidden terriory

three times ema reached for eustace and one time he did

i.

Ema Skye is inquisitive, investigative. Whether it's for the best or the worst changes as much a certain attorney she knows changes the flow of trial. (Changed—but she doesn't need to dwell on that depressing situation right now.) What she does dwell on is if it's her drink that's making her this curious about Eustace or if it's something else.

Is it the science of the drink, the science of her mind, or is it the science that impassions her heart?

It's become more normal for them to see each other, to eat together, to drink together for one reason or another, and it isn't abnormal for them to be seated at a table like this anymore.

What is a little less than normal is how she reaches for his hand, even if it may not be the first time. What is a little more normal is the magnifying glass she whips out. She ignores the silent judging and questioning stare he gives her. If he doesn't use his words, she doesn't have to answer, and she doesn't care if he judges her for this anyway. She examines the palm of his hand, the roughness of his callouses, any possible lingering residue from how much he cleans his gun (however miniscule), droplets from the condensation on his own glass.

They tell as much about a person as much as fingerprints identify an individual.

For how long has he had to work the way he had for his hands to be this way?

She sets down the magnifying glass, and it’s maybe a miracle he hasn’t taken his hand back yet and left, but she isn’t done yet.

She slips her hand into his, sliding her fingers against his palm until they curl around the back of his hand.

“What?” His puzzlement is noticeable even through his stoicism.

“I think,” she declares like she’s discovered a new scientific method, “I wouldn’t mind knowing more.”

He continues to stare.

“About you.”

More than she already knows.

ii.

There’s a crash that echoes throughout the house. The shatter of glass is unmistakable, and Eustace expects to hear some sort of shout or the telltale taps of footsteps soon. It becomes worrisome when he hears nothing from Ema.

He knows she can get lost in the throes of science, that the laboratory can take all her attention, but they’ve had enough conversations about what he’s like that Ema wouldn’t turn around and be that hypocritical. She’s asked for his help enough on other, smaller things. (One could argue how to pilot a ship is a bigger thing, but he didn’t even do that.) She should be doing something, anything, making some kind of noise even if he weren’t around, but that there’s nothing means something happened.

He’s darting down the stairs just as he hears the thump of shoes across the ground and Ema comes sprinting towards him. She grabs his hand and pulls with the strength of adrenaline, tugging him back up.

“Go, go, go! We can’t stop!”

There’s the sound of something cutting through the air. He looks back to see some kind of tentacle vine.

The look he shoots Ema says everything. Even if he weren’t a man of few words, he wouldn’t need any.

“I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! Some experiments yield unexpected results.” She’s apologetic but unrepentant even while she’s trying not to wheeze from ushering them out of his house.

His house doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve this (even if he can usually appreciate how enthused she can be).

Science also probably doesn’t deserve this, but he can’t say he’s too bothered by how tightly her grip on his hand is.

Even if it might not balance out the trouble of flora control and removal.

iii.

It doesn’t take too much to rouse Eustace from his slumber. Years working for the Society has ingrained certain instincts and habits in him: the ability to sleep almost anywhere and the ability to be woken by almost anything.

Another habit he’s picked up, though it hasn’t been years, is tucking Ema into his side whenever they sleep on the same bed. The months have shaped comfort in the curve of her back against him. It’s been enough that he’s learned most of Ema’s sleeping tics, how she moves, if she moves when she dreams, that he can tell when something is off.

He is calm and pragmatic from the way he had to leave his childhood behind, and it makes certain observations easier to make than others. Emotions are difficult, but body language, even if he can’t always interpret it, is something easy to spot for someone as honed to take aim as he is.

The way Ema turns, the furrow in her brow, the distress that makes her facial features twist—it’s clear that it’s a nightmare. He is about to try to wake her when she turns towards him, and her arms wrap around him.

“Thanks for being here,” she says, words soft and sluggish from sleep and muffled against his chest. She presses closer to him, as if confirming his presence.

Her breathing even outs before he can reply, and all he does is shift and adjust them both, so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck from how she positioned herself.

Maybe that’s enough. Maybe this is a peace and quiet he wants to protect.

iv.

There’s no way to tell if this is an invasive dream, a simulation, some kind of hallucination, or if some incredible and unbelievable glitch happened to transport them in actuality to a place Ema knows best. She’s full of suspicion and her instinct is to distrust, but she can’t stop the hope that sprouts in her heart.

Could she be home?

It is not home for Eustace, but even if they are only able to be here for a short moment (if it’s real, if it’s actually real), she wants to take advantage of what time they have. She wants to see the people important to her.

Nothing about this city or Japanifornia are conducive to the peace and quiet Eustace always talks about wanting, she expects, but she can’t change that now nor would she want to change this city outside of its crime rate (and the contents of the forensics exam). She’s at least grateful that the city is diverse enough and full of enough loud characters that Erune features won’t stand out.

People will think Eustace is some cosplaying weeb or furry just like she did when they first met.

“This way,” she says, and she begins to lead Eustace to somewhere that will be the test or the control for whether this is real or fake or just real enough for their imaginations. She rushes like she’s on a trial deadline, as if she only has so much time before there’s nothing else she can do or change.

She doesn’t know she’s about to take a step too soon into traffic until Eustace grabs her hand and yanks her back, and she doesn’t notice how hard her heart is beating until her back hits Eustace’s chest.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” It’s five words to caution her and express his concern. They still don’t know how or why they’re here or what exactly this place is, and even if it’s only a dream, any death or injury will hurt just as much.

His words aren’t wrong, and his logic is as solid as he is, as reliable as he has always been. It’s one of the things she likes best about him, and she lowers her hand from where it flew up to her chest. She frowns, not because she disagrees with him, but because her head is finally catching up with her heart, and she’s a little disappointed in herself.

She sighs and looks off to the side. “I’m not naive enough to think this is the authentic thing without more proof. We’ve experienced enough that we need to investigate more. Scientifically speaking.”

“Scientifically speaking.” No matter how often Eustace hears it from her, he repeats it in that dry way of his.

“Hey.” He’s lucky she doesn’t have a bag of Snackoos on her. She could grab one since they’re in the right place for it, but that doesn’t tell her much in the large scheme of things. They’re too in public for what she wants to say next, so she extracts herself from his hold and jerks a thumb towards an alleyway like that’s any better.

The illusion of privacy is what she wants.

“If this is genuine and some kind of freaky science fiction glitch happened to make it happen, there’s no saying it won’t glitch us back.” Isn’t that how it happened in the first place? Is it science fiction if it’s their reality? The point is they don’t know anything, but all they can do is examine their surroundings and find evidence of the truth. “And if it is true, I want you to meet the most important person to me.”

For all she could see the similarities to Lana in Eustace, there are more than enough differences. For instance, it’s almost humorous to see the way Eustace freezes after what she says. She’s too sober and aware to not notice his minute movements right now because all her focus is on him. All the vigor with which she uses her scientific tools is in this conversation with him, as the bustle of a busy city drones on around them.

“And even if it isn’t true, there isn’t anyone else I want more to investigate it with.”

He’s silent, but when isn’t he? There’s a small shift in his posture before he says, “I”ll be here.” The for you is unsaid, and it isn’t something she expects to hear in his tone of voice, but it’s there.

Ema doesn’t question how much Lana loves her, not anymore, and she’s long since figured out the extent of her sister’s affection, but Lana has left her feeling lonely more times than she can count. Here, Eustace has her feeling less alone than she’s ever felt before.

The buzz and roar of engines fade. The shouts of customers exiting stores become muted just from hearing him say those words. It gives her a sense of peace and quiet that she thinks makes her understand Eustace a little more.

I really like you. Maybe more than I’ve liked anyone.

This is more true than ever before. It is her truth.

the less forbidden territory

Edited (i forgot the details tag existed ) 2023-12-02 16:23 (UTC)

kills you

revives you so i can kill you again

ARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i already cried at you on discord but i'm here to cry again.............ty for this food of my ships, i'm in actual tears. i will tell you anything you want about my ships for all the work you put into this THANK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU

kills you again for good measure

dies a million times for love and friendship

i can write fic and make asws in hell, too

thank you for all the supplemental material you gave me on discord 🥰

SNEAKS MY WAY IN HERE SHAKILY AAAA I MISSED THE SOFTER WORLD EDITS MY FIRST LOOK THRU BUT THESE ARE SO SAD.... AND THEN I GOT TO THE LAST ONE HELP

smooches ara for this gift to me as well