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Matthew West

"Whatever happens, Jaz. Remember to duck."

0 · 710 views · located in Terra

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by NotAFlyingToy

Description

Rise Against wrote:It kills me not to know this
But I've all but just forgotten,
What the colour of her eyes were,
And her scars, and how she got them.

History

>/loginuid: westmatt

[[[ID ACCEPTED. COMMAND:]]]

>/start endynecor.exe

[[FETCHING SERVER INFO]]

>/serverinfo 132.121.67.8

[[PATCH IN?]]

>/y

[[[PATCHING endynecor.exe AT 132.121.67.8]]]


>Loading files...
...
..
.
>Files loaded. Loading images....
..
..
.... [[[ERROR- IMAGE CORRUPT]]] Reconnecting...
>...
>..
>Reconstruction failure. Attempt re-reconstruction? Y/N
>/n

>Image Upload cancelled.

[[...Hacking...]]


[[...Decoding...]]


[[...Validating...]]


Username: [[telsayj]]
Password: [[*******]]

>Logging in...

=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

>Welcome, Dr. Telsay! What can we assist you with?
1) Current Projects
2) Endyne Corp Relations
3) Last Page Visited
4) Corporate Ladder

>/3

>Loading Subject Smite... Please wait...
>Loading files 142/142 at 123 kb/s.
>....Done

[DETECTION ALERT: ISOLATING SOURCE]

>/init actscan

[[[DETECTION NEUTRALIZED. ACTIVE SCAN INITIATED]]]


>Project Name: Matthew West, ALIAS: Smite

Specialization: Long Distance Reconnaissance/ Retrieval team, SSGT.

Credentials: The BK400 Project, The Defiance project, squaredid23 squaredid28, and ***CLASSIFIED*** project.

Successful Missions: 42/42

Retrievals: (89) Retrieved, (1) pending

Biography: Special Agent Smite was born on January 26th, in the year XXXX. Currently employed at Endyne Corp as field agent specializing in retrieval of runaway projects, currently tracking project 0000136. Was a sniper in US Army for three years, honourable discharge. Residence unknown. Parentage unknown. Public Identity: Matthew James West, accountant, British Columbia.

Appearance: !ERROR, IMAGE FILES CORRUPT. PRESS C TO CONTINUE

>/c


>Whereabouts: Currently unknown; out of country. Smite has special ops training in every climate, including tundra/arctic camoflauge training. Subject is considered dangerous.

>!WARNING: The following files are CLASSIFIED to all subjects below seclevel 8.2B. Enter passcode to continue.

>/init passcd.exe/burner

[[DESCRAMBLING PASSCODE...]]
.
.
[[[...DONE. PASSCODE 18023571996]]]

>/ 18023571996

>Passcode accepted. Seclevel clearance ALPHA Granted.

> Warrant: Currently a Warrant out for Smite’s arrest into Endyne for breaking regulations regarding hunting and capture for experiment 0000136, under law ZETA-GAMMA, stating capture within FIVE (5) months. User being tracked with total of 6 RECON teams, all under orders; shoot – kill. Commanding officer one Bridges, Julius A. Commander, RECON State alpha. Bridges personal tie to Subject Smite, better results expected.

> Equipment: Smite utilizes Sniper Rifle, X-32 Caliber, Titanium Alloy. Sidearm is Kaden 5.26 mm, Melee is dual edged combat knife. Secondary weapon MP5 Elongated SMG. Total rounds of ammo: 180 (12 X-32, 18 5.26, 150 SMG Ammo)

> Uniform: Riot Helmet, marked with a gold blotch on the crown, kevlar vest, combat boots; black. Camouflaged standard thermal uniform.

> Personality: WARNING: VOLATILE NATURE UNDETECTED. Fit for combat is questionable.

>!Continue to Analysis?

>/c


>Analysis: Dr. James Webber, PhD.
Subject Smite seems too calm for normal existence inside Retrieval squad. Instead is laid back, sarcastic, humorous. Has been known to joke around and feel empathetic towards his targets for retrieval, subject’s behaviour is unerratic and professional. Injections into subject seem to be ineffective to increase anger/rage, suggest stronger dose.

>Subject Smite is one of 16 Retrieval officers. 5 MIA, 11 KIA.

>/run shutdown.exe

[[[SHUTDOWN COMMENCING]]]

[[WIPING PRESENCE]]

[[[WARNING! DETECTION IMINENT! SHUTDOWN HALTED. ISOLATING...]]]

>Thank you for choosing Endyne, Dr. Telsay. Or, should we say, Mr. West.

!DO NOT HACK US AGAIN.!

[[CONNECTION SEVERED. DAMAGE: SEVERE. POWER SAVING MODE ACTIVATED]]

----------LOG TERMINATED--------

So begins...

Matthew West's Story

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The shoulder- kidney shot had him stumbling backwards as she pressed closer to his chest, driving him one step, then two towards a table. When his back made contact with it, he stumbled, beginning to lose what little balance he had claimed. As the table upended, a pitcher of beer was sent spiralling through the air, throwing the golden liquid onto the floor.

He paid it little heed.

His instinctive move was to drive his elbow into her head, twice, trying to dislodge her of his hold, while his other hand dropped his makeshift weapon, seeking and clutching the cloth of her shirt. He pulled, trying to regain the advantage.

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He took the hit, realizing that this is what she needed most of all. Release. A chance to make someone hurt that wasn't her, a chance to relieve the ache that she felt deep set in her bones. Release. As her fist collided with his jaw, he recoiled against the floor, his eyes seeing stars as his head collided with it. But he never broke eye contact with her, holding her gaze with a hard expression, watching her every move.

Release.

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He gathered her close to him, sitting up and curling her against his chest, breathing into her hair. He rocked her gently as he sat there, in the midst of a beer-soaked puddle, holding the woman that he would suddenly give everything to protect. Shaking his hands, frustrated at the rubber that encased his digits, he shed the gloves and ran his hands down her face, her hair, her shoulders. He comforted her.

"I'm done fighting, Jaz." He whispered into her temple. "I'm done fighting."

He cradled her close, wanting nothing but to get out of the crowded bar and to talk to her. Blood oozed from his nostril, but he didn't hurt. He didn't feel any pain anymore. He just felt warmth.

He felt... love.

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"I know."

He lifted her, effortlessly; her weight easily manageable in his arms. He gathered her close, his footsteps carrying them through the doors of Gambit's, out into the night. He moved her weight just before he got to the doors, taking one quick glance at the havoc they'd reined.

Disrupted conversations, broken barstool, spilled beer. Okay.

He fled the scene.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Gambit's Hotel, 10th Floor

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The chuckle through his chest vibrated against her, as she wrapped her arms around him and settled more fully against him he suddenly felt massive and strong, as if he could protect her from any harm that sought her out. He set her gently on the bed with him, lying down first and resting his head against the wall as she remained curled against him.

"Only each other, really." He said, keeping his voice low. He paused, and then spoke again. "I know you miss her, Jaz. I'm sorry that we... well, I'm sorry."

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He watched her from beneath his brows, one eyebrow raised in incredulity. "You're basing this off of one time? Jaz, for all we know they only had that installed one time. I'm not letting you back away from me because of a single instant." He took a breath. "Look." He shook her slightly, running his hands down her arms. "I'm here. I'm okay. We just spent ten minutes beating the crap out of each other, and you didn't snap. The switch is off. It's broken. Defeated."

He wrapped around her more firmly, sinking a little deeper into the bed. "Don't worry about me, Jaz. Even if you do snap, I can handle myself."

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He ran his hand across her back, soothing her. He decided to be honest, open, a little more forceful then what he'd shown in the past months. "No, it isn't. But they won't tell you what they want, mostly because it's you that they want. And they won't get you; not while I'm here."

In truth, he didn't really know why the failsafe activated; he just knew that he wanted to stop them from hurting her. Ironic that the best way they found of hurting her is to have her hurt others.

He brought his lips to the top of her head, whispering. "I won't let you go, as long as you let me."

The setting changes from Gambit's Hotel, 10th Floor to Main Street 1

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Matt smiled at her, striding along beside her, hands stuffed into pockets. He allowed his shoulders to sag, his feet to drab behind him, little things that made him seem less of a soldier-type warrior and more of an average man making his way through the streets. As they walked, the silence between them had gotten nearly unbearble. That was, of course, until she came out with that.

"It wasn't like you needed much practice," he said, enthusiastically. She was a good student, and he couldn't take much credit for her deadly aim. "So, Jezebel seems nice. You had quite a good home."

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Matt's smile diminished slightly as she hung off of him, throwing out the casual promise he'd made her back at Codger's house. He gripped her arm as the smile completely diminished, turning into a frown. He was about to extricate himself from her arms, put more of the distance that he'd constructed between them, when Codger's advice floated through his mind, freezing his progress before he could finish the motion.

"Start acting like a man and less like a goddamned robotic soldier."

So instead of flinging her off, he hauled her closer and spun around her, letting her momentum backwards from not having his support aid him. Maintaining his grip, he was behind her with her arm behind her back, pressed against her spine. His other hand touched her shoulder, and his voice was a chuckle.

"First lesson; don't poke the badger." He said from behind her, his grip gentle but firm. He felt the spring inside him slowly uncoil, a foreign feeling of freedom coming over him.

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Her voice slid through him like a river, tingling at his spine, and the pressure of her head on his shoulder was a solid and good weight, making him feel big and firm, a rock - her rock. The way that blue met green in a sliding, sinking caress as she tilted and twisted her head, pinning him with a stare. As she said the single, quiet word, her blue orbs so easy to get lost in, he realized that he was in trouble.

Like, a lot of trouble.

An incredible amount of trouble.

"Hmm?" He murmered back, unable to keep his grip on her arm as his fingers loosened, allowing her freedom if she chose to take it.

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In turn, he wasn't aware that he was closing the space between them, either. He watched her pupils, his eyes shifting from left to right quickly, gaze alternating to get the full affect of her clear blues. His hand on her shoulder moved slightly, touching the warm skin where shoulder met throat, rocking slightly forwards on his toes.

"Yeah, it is," he said, breathlessly. His fingers ran through her hair slightly, one of them snagging a curl. "Your hair is getting long."

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When her eyes flashed red and she reached for him, his instincts took over, shaking off the warm spider's web she had spun around his brain. The soldier in him became active again, his head rearing back and a knee moving to intercept the path between their bodies. But her strength was undeniable, hauling him towards her in the most brutal of fashions. The kiss was ferocious and vivid and... everything he didn't want in regards to Jaz -

No. This wasn't Jaz.

His hands were quick, pulling out the small device from his belt, the one thing he theorized that would work against her; a small single use tazer gun. While still pressed against her mouth, he jabbed at her stomach with it, the prongs shooting out and biting into her skin.

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Matt back-pedalled, going through everything he knew about Jaz in blocks of text scrolling through his head. Nothing explained this. It never mentioned anything about "Might be turning into psychotic killer" in her file. And he'd read a crapload of files about her.

He drew his pistol, dawning on the realization that this wasn't Jaz.

"Get out of there." He said, simply.

The setting changes from Main Street 1 to Gambit's Bar

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The longcoat was ill-fitting and completely dishevelled, his eyes bagged and drooping from the exhaustion of the past few days. For nearly a week now, he'd been trying to go straight as a business owner; put the past behind him, let bygones be bygones, forget that he and a certain woman went tearing across the country in an effort to escape a phantom enemy. It had been a long time - far longer than he could remember, that he had any time to sit still. It was always 'run to the next checkpoint, make sure nobody recognizes you, kill the witnesses, dodge the police, lie, lie, lie.' He had been tired, he had been angry, he had even been depressed at times.

And now he was coming to realize that he'd enjoyed ever second of it.

Sure, it'd been horrifying. Sure, he'd committed atrocities that still rang hollow in his eardrums, high-pitched voices shrieking in his ear at any point that it was quiet. He was having trouble, shifting from hich-octane nightmares into this life where he was supposed to be a white collar shipping merchant. With two ships. Who were failing.

It sucked.

He didn't really take in his surroundings, and the fact that Jaz - the aforementioned co-pilot of the Starship Fuck My Life they were on - was talking to a stranger didn't faze him, either. No, what fazed him was that he hadn't seen or heard from her in a few days.

True to form, however, he didn't mention it. Just plopped himself beside her with a sigh, raised his eyebrows at her choice of drink and said a single word;

"Hey."

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His lips twisted ironically, a face reaching up to rub, hard, against his eyebrow when her apology reached his ear. He didn't want to hear her say that she was sorry; in truth, he just wanted to hear her tell him where she was going before she did it. When they began this... thing, of theirs, he knew that it'd likely be about as successful as trying to saddle up a hurricane. She was impulsive, free, and strong-willed, where he shared some of those characteristics but was a lot more arrow minded when it came to direction. She was reliable, but unpredictable.

He'd yet to get used to it.

He waved off her apology, tapping the order-screen twice with vicious stabs, a finger of whiskey appearing as if summoned. He hadn't had anything to drink in a long, long time; there wasn't time for it on the road. As he sipped it, he let out a gasp, turning towards her, finger still pressing against his eyebrow, shoulder twitching with the tension in his back.

"I really don't want you to apologize, Jaz." He said, simply. His fingers curled more completely around the glass, rubbing it with his thumb. "I just... well, I worry."

Did he have a right to worry?

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Matt froze, the blood in his veins slowing to a crawl as the room around them faded into mere background noise. Shifting in his seat, he reached towards her, placing a hand on each of her knees. All he knew in that moment, squeezing her kneecaps lightly, was that he needed to touch her, to be close to her. Even if they hadn't defined the thing that they started, he still wanted to maintain the connection, keep them close.

"Oh, Jaz." He let out, the frustration with her escaping him on a rush of breath. She didn't bring up the C-name in the best of times. The way that she said it meant that this couldn't... be good.

"What did you two... uh, discuss?"

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Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That was all he heard after the word "expiration date."

Suddenly, all the things that they'd been fighting for, working for those years of running and hiding and shooting and driving came to a sliding, slithering clarity in his mind's eye. Odd, that when she hinted at her own death, his flashed before his eyes, sending little shivers down his spine and making his hair stand on end. A life without Jaz was a life without spark or flame, a dead candle that floated on the wind without cause for home, a paper boat without a bottom that floated endlessly on the tides of living.

A life without Jaz wasn't living.

He rubbed his hands slightly, tuning back in as she muttered something about an estimate, and his voice cracked with the urgency of his question.

"You're dying?"

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People suggesting sex was not the surroundings that Matt wanted - or needed - right now.

He flipped his hands to clasp hers, squeezing at her wrists with his finger and thumbs. He leaned close to her, thinking of his apartment that was tucked away, quiet and cool within the urban sprawl that surrounded them. With a tug, he pulled her out of her seat.

"Come with me, Jaz." He whispered, trying to keep his own voice from trembling. Now was the time to be a rock, Matt. This is as hard for you as it is for her.

Turning, keeping contact with one of her hands, he led her out of the bar.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Main Street

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He only had the strength to close the door behind them, shuffling them into the small, cramped space before doing so. He pressed himself into her, holding her tight against him, the entire time the mantra repeating in an endless refrain; The rock. Be the rock. Be the rock. Be the-

Her slight trembling lent itself to his own weakness; all he wanted to do was collapse into his bed, close his eyes, and wake up; start the morning over, be frustrated at her instead of aching for her.

-rock. Be the rock. Be the rock. Be-

All his silly little worries about keeping Western Deliveries up and running faded significantly into the background; he was borne again in sorrow, deep and panging longing that spread throughout his body. He didn't want to lift his limbs. He didn't want to move.

-the Rock. Be the rock. Be the rock.

"No."

His voice was dark, angry. "I refuse to believe that you have a year. You've come too damn far, worked too damn hard to survive to go out because somebody forgot to rotate you to the front or whatever. You're not a can of soup; you're a human being."

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He pulled her to him, accepting more of her weight as he rested his cheek against her hair, silently contemplating the subtle shift in their world, the violent rocking of their lives. He pressed a kiss into her hairline, sighing into it, before pausing. He had had no idea that this revelation had been awaiting him. If he had, he would've ignored tracking that damn distress signal that had come over his speakers, and gone straight for the bar, get this over with as soon as possible...

And then he murmured. "That's it."

He came alive with excitement, suddenly, hugging her to him and lifting her. "That's it!! There was a hail in today; a warning of a crash landing somewhere near the old ruins. It had the marks of an Argos Rho cluster prison ship; which is a pretty technologically adept nation, if what I know is correct. They'd have... maybe they have some kind of..."

He exhaled explosively. "It's a chance."