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Fandom: Metal Gear Solid
Characters/Pairings: Naomi, hinting at Snake/Gray Fox, Mei Ling
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She sees the how violence shapes them and wonders who will give in first.
Notes: I know that Mei Ling and Naomi are not actually watching Snake on surveillance cameras. I know that. But I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they were. That's kind of what this is. Title is mainly from the fact that this song from the Silent Hill 2 soundtrack came on and was helpful in writing this weird little thing. FORGIVE MY WOBBLING CANON FOR THE SAKE OF ART.
She sees the how violence shapes them and wonders who will give in first.
Snake is a precision tool, knowing to strike back at what strikes at him or to get out of the way. He has only one goal of forward momentum; and she knows what she's given him beforehand will mean that he's put back in the box with the other instruments before long. But Naomi can't help but watch the moves with increasing fascination, check the nanomachine readouts for the reactions she expects.
He says hurt me, Snake and Snake's reaction is at best confusion. Maybe a little bit of hesitance. And it occurs to her that maybe he's not used to targets that want to be hit. A spike on the graph before it flatlines into its usual again. The tool has adjusted, adapted, even if his heartrate is a little more elevated than normal.
It's much longer than it should be. Snake has already dispatched several others faster than this, and her brother (she admits this to herself with trepidation, for the man in the suit and her brother separate and mingle at erratic times like ink in water) could as easily end this. And she grips the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles turn white. All her plans, two years, her perfect revenge could evaporate because her brother's head glitched...
But they're not fighting to kill. Just fighting. A punch connects and Snake's heartrate almost redlines for a minute and the nanomachines stop pumping adrenaline into him. The cybernetic exoskeleton that contains the last of Frank would probably tell her of a similar spike on his end. And as she sits there watching the live feed she almost feels as if she's walked in on something she was never meant to see. Never wanted to. Two years...
Biological theories say that some men have a predisposition to violence. Naomi can't believe that though; it's always seemed like such an easy behavior to learn. She imagines Snake handing her his rations and closes her eyes, letting the last of the fight fade into the beeps of monitoring devices and the inhuman wails of I'm losing myself that signal the end at last.
"Dr. Hunter, are you alright?"
She's glad not to be the lone voyeur, though Mei Ling has talked to him longer. Naomi had almost forgotten she was there, but then again, they both fall silent when Snake is with matched opponents.
"I'm fine. Snake seems to have handled that well, don't you think?"
No, neither of them will give in, no waiting necessary. It's not a contest, but an invitation to surrender that is neither this time nor place. Never the time or place; an unanswered question, a hanging note.
"Oh yes, I don't worry about what Snake can handle."
Maybe Frank really is helping with her revenge after all.
Characters/Pairings: Naomi, hinting at Snake/Gray Fox, Mei Ling
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She sees the how violence shapes them and wonders who will give in first.
Notes: I know that Mei Ling and Naomi are not actually watching Snake on surveillance cameras. I know that. But I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they were. That's kind of what this is. Title is mainly from the fact that this song from the Silent Hill 2 soundtrack came on and was helpful in writing this weird little thing. FORGIVE MY WOBBLING CANON FOR THE SAKE OF ART.
She sees the how violence shapes them and wonders who will give in first.
Snake is a precision tool, knowing to strike back at what strikes at him or to get out of the way. He has only one goal of forward momentum; and she knows what she's given him beforehand will mean that he's put back in the box with the other instruments before long. But Naomi can't help but watch the moves with increasing fascination, check the nanomachine readouts for the reactions she expects.
He says hurt me, Snake and Snake's reaction is at best confusion. Maybe a little bit of hesitance. And it occurs to her that maybe he's not used to targets that want to be hit. A spike on the graph before it flatlines into its usual again. The tool has adjusted, adapted, even if his heartrate is a little more elevated than normal.
It's much longer than it should be. Snake has already dispatched several others faster than this, and her brother (she admits this to herself with trepidation, for the man in the suit and her brother separate and mingle at erratic times like ink in water) could as easily end this. And she grips the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles turn white. All her plans, two years, her perfect revenge could evaporate because her brother's head glitched...
But they're not fighting to kill. Just fighting. A punch connects and Snake's heartrate almost redlines for a minute and the nanomachines stop pumping adrenaline into him. The cybernetic exoskeleton that contains the last of Frank would probably tell her of a similar spike on his end. And as she sits there watching the live feed she almost feels as if she's walked in on something she was never meant to see. Never wanted to. Two years...
Biological theories say that some men have a predisposition to violence. Naomi can't believe that though; it's always seemed like such an easy behavior to learn. She imagines Snake handing her his rations and closes her eyes, letting the last of the fight fade into the beeps of monitoring devices and the inhuman wails of I'm losing myself that signal the end at last.
"Dr. Hunter, are you alright?"
She's glad not to be the lone voyeur, though Mei Ling has talked to him longer. Naomi had almost forgotten she was there, but then again, they both fall silent when Snake is with matched opponents.
"I'm fine. Snake seems to have handled that well, don't you think?"
No, neither of them will give in, no waiting necessary. It's not a contest, but an invitation to surrender that is neither this time nor place. Never the time or place; an unanswered question, a hanging note.
"Oh yes, I don't worry about what Snake can handle."
Maybe Frank really is helping with her revenge after all.
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