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Valo Gilles - The Obligatory 1-4-5

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40061 - 91504 - VG



Federal Citizen 





Kivi, Castor, Coda System



December 30, 2280 [Age 20]





5'11 [1.80m]



168 lbs [76kg]



Still and stoic, Valo's face sports rounder, smoother features framed by straw blonde hair, but not in a manner but that necessarily contributes to a sense of youth. Gilles' English is punctuated by a constant stiff impediment to their speech, their voice and tambour in a low, sonorous tone that just makes them sound strange. Built sturdily as befitting their role as a machine gunner, Gilles' muscle is stretched out over a wiry body. With little care given to their physical appearance, Valo, in the most opportune of moments, looks unkempt at best.







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You talk like her, now.


And Scott, too. You talk like both of them.



It feels nice. You think they've noticed, too. You've gotten funnier. You're talking more. That's progress, right? She knows you so well.



You stare at Alexandra Mills and wonder what you ever did to deserve such a person to help you out. At the best of moments, you are elated.



At your lowest, you feel as if you ruin her reputation by just being around her. Like the specks of dirt you flick off a diamond.



You can't keep her safe. You couldn't keep Ainslie safe. And she's not yours to keep safe.


Please, God, keep her safe.









You were a fool.


She was about the only thing you really looked forward to. How come? Your entire mind, hinged on one person. One person that could go at any time.


She wasn't there when you got here. Why did you ever think she would be there when you left? 


She saw you. She saw you and she loved you for it, and something took her away. Who can you blame? Yourself? The world? A bug? Nothing. That blame is in you. You can't just throw it somewhere else. 


Her thunder came, and shook you down. And now you can't see a world without her.


You're nothing but an upjumped machine. And you made a mistake by falling in love.









Whoever said youth was an excuse to be loose, Asuka proves them wrong.


Maybe you haven't seen their rule by fear firsthand, but the way they talk about it gives way for you to believe her.  She conducts herself years older than what she told you how old she was.


Eighteen. She's younger than you. You don't know if you look up to her yet, but the way she treats you, you could almost fool yourself into thinking she really cares. Maybe she does.


You can't ever know.







Draz Polo died because he was too human.


He didn't have to take that grenade for those people. But he did. Because he loved him. He did it without fear. Without resignation.


Will you have enough resolve to do that when the time comes?









Weaver is a pilot. And oddly: someone you could probably call a friend.


Maybe that's too quick. You don't know. It's all new. But he's in your friend group. Him. Mills. Tsuchi. Scott. It's about the first time you've ever felt like this in your time of service. And that's nice. He's a part of that. He deserves some credit.


He's imperfect. Not that you blame him for it. He's clumsy. He can get jealous. He trips over himself. But he's just as professional as anyone else. You don't admire robots. And he's not a robot. He's flesh and blood, and he still does his job.


You don't know him too well. But that's okay. You will. That's what friend groups are for.







A shrink.


Is she trying to read you? She must be. There's no other reason she asks you so many questions.


Is she trying to pry into your brain that much because she cares?


Or does she just find you interesting? Like a science project, for her to dismantle and put back together again? The thought unsettles you. You've never had a psychiatrist look at you like she does. But she treats you well. She sounds like she cares. But you're not sure if that's good for you.


There's something wrong with you, sure. You don't want her to tell you what it is.







A machine.


You are her machine.


She complains. A lot. She has her own issues, and you can't be sure if they're as bad as yours.


She makes it sound like no one in her life treats her right.


That can't be right, can it?


Fockner. Konta. Names that you've only ever heard, and never seen.


You can only watch out for her so much in combat.


You'd just wish she'd hang around people who care for her more.







In all those cheesy movies Ainslie showed you, there was always jealousy when someone else got the girl.


Was that supposed to happen to you?


Maybe it's just because Ainslie showed up at just the right time.


No. Maybe it's just because Dominik Scott is a genuinely nice person.


You hardly ever think about the fact that him and Alex are a thing anymore. They make you smile. It brings almost a sense of relief, at times. To know that they're both watching out for each other. Without them, you don't know what you'd do.


Your two best friends, on this ship. In love with each other. Happy. Plans, when they get out. 


You're a solitary being. You like being lonely - so you've fooled yourself into thinking.


But people like Scott are enough to make you want more friends.






He's good to you.


Does Tommy really know you? Not too well. But he doesn't need to. There's a mutual sense of bonding you two have just standing around each other.


Two soldiers. He's renowned for his ability. And he has faith in you. That's a lot to ask for. 


And when you're sad? He wants to be there for you. He's solid. Reliable. Dependable. He doesn't know you, sure. But he's there for you. He was there when Ainslie died.


A friend. A battle brother. You two are like kids growing up together. You can't imagine this place without him.


He's a killer - and he's on your side. But you like Tommy for him, more than his gun.





If Tommy and you were kids who grew up together?


Kurei might as well be your little brother.


He was with you from the start. Your first memory of him is as a recruit, barreling forward with you to put down machine guns against hordes of bugs.


He's brave. Hardy. Loyal. He wants to go far. He's helped you countless times.


He's your friend. He has his own friends - he's closer with them,


But he's your friend. And you've taught him well. He's where he wants to be. Leading.


You're proud. From the bottom of the chest, you're proud.


But you can't help but feel like things are going to get more complicated.



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