0011: Questionnaire, 2017
Yancy felt ridiculous. The gaggle of makeup artists that combed his hair back to look relatively even on all sides didn't help. They straightened the suit jacket so that is was immaculate and wrinkle free in all the right places. Across from him Raleigh didn't appear to be enjoying himself either; if anything he was the more fidgety out of the two, unconsciously moving hands toward his face whenever he got tired of having it powdered and rechecked for blemishes.
Stacker Pentecost stood on the sidelines, watching the ordeal with a detached expression that didn't quite erase the boredom from his brown eyes. Yancy turned to face his commanding officer as the woman standing in front of him began to apply peach colored lip gloss to his face to balance the almost orange make up they applied to his face.
"Sir, is this really necessary?" He ignored the offended expression of the makeup artist and shot his gaze over to his brother. Raleigh looked ready to punch someone.
"At the moment it is absolutely necessary," Pentecost responded, his tone implying only mild empathy. "At least until I can find a more productive way of maintaining public support."
"Killing Kaiju isn't enough?" Raleigh remarked disdainfully, batting a makeup brush away from his face. The woman huffed, her eyebrow rising up behind her bangs. Turning her supervisor, she complained, "Sir, he won't let me work!" Pentecost shot the youngest Becket a sideways look as the woman's supervisor shrugged helplessly, trying to reaffirm to Raleigh that the makeup is necessary part of the interview.
"Raleigh, behave yourself," Yancy warned. Raleigh bit the inside of his mouth, knowing anything he would say in response would have him looking like a twelve year old who didn't want his face washed by his mother.
"The general public is fickle, Mr. Becket," Pentecost sighed. "You can save their lives a hundred times and they can and will turn on you in an instant. The objective here is simple; reassure them with the faces of people piloting the Jaegers that defend their homeland. Allow them to get to know you."
"And just how much are we supposed let them know about us?" Raleigh inquired as the woman double checked the facial hair growing on his face. "I dunno about Yancy, but I like my privacy."
"Hey!"
"If need be, as much as possible-"
The Beckets made a face that clearly stated they didn't agree with the idea at all.
"-unless is conflicts classified operations," Pentecost finished.
"So, basically, everything?" Raleigh snarked.
"Rals, quit it," Yancy glared.
"Basically, everything the public hasn't been allowed to know about the program," Pentecost elaborated. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," They both answered.
The man beside Yancy went over his hair with a comb one more time and readjusted his tie. "There, you're ready for the big times," He said, dusting his shoulders. Yancy smiled appreciatively, allowing his shoulders to relax. "So, when are we on?"
"In about fifteen minutes," The man said.
"Whaddya we do until then?" Raleigh asked, put off by the wait. Lord, his brother was worse than a salamander on the run. The makeup artist beside Raleigh shrugged her shoulders. "Mil about, don't touch any of the stage equipment, don't stand under the lights unless you're looking to die," She smiled. "That sort of thing." Raleigh watched her go, his expression a mixture of appraisal and irritation.
He was always attracted to the bossy ones; must've been something their father loved their mother for. Yancy shoved his hands into his pockets, rolling his shoulders. The last time he wore a suit it was at his mother's funeral, barely three weeks ago. He hated them as a result considering its all they made him think about. "I could go for a coffee," He muttered.
"No coffee, you'll stain your teeth," The supervisor noted.
"Can we eat anything?" Raleigh asked, scowling.
"No, but you can have water. The cooler's just down the hall," The supervisor answered.
"Water, of course," Raleigh muttered as he followed after his brother down the hall. "I need a drink."
"The feeling's mutual, kid."
"You might know them as the heroes of Los Angeles; they joined the Jaeger Academy in 2016 and currently are the program's rising stars. Let's give a big welcome to brothers, Yancy and Raleigh Becket," Sandra Blime was someone they only knew through their mother. She watched her talk show all the time, right up until she could hardly keep her eyes open. They stepped onto the stage as the crowd began to clap - either on cue or of their own volition. Yancy and Raleigh weren't sure whether or not to wave to the crowd or greet the woman stepping out from behind the desk immediately. Raleigh was the first to extend his hand to Sandra; her grip was incredibly strong (and clammy).
She reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder as she pressed a kiss to his face. Yancy was next, he shook her hand and was perhaps too quick to pull away to sit down. Sandra sat down in the chair at the desk and assumed and a casual pose of conversation; chin resting on the back of her hand, leaning slightly forward.
"Well, hi, how are you?"
"I- we're doing well, thank you," Yancy sighed as he adjusted himself on the cushioned chair next to his brother.
"Now, your names; Yancy and Raleigh, is it?"
She just announced them onto the stage! "Yes, it's-uh-" Yancy shrugged, grinning as he looked his brother for help.
"Those are some very curious names," Sandra said.
"We had nothin' to do with 'em really. Our parents named us," Raleigh interjected, trying his hardest not to fidget under Sandra's scrutinizing gaze.
"Were you ever picked on for them?"
"Eh, not especially," Yancy answered. "Kids at school mispronounced or misspelled them sometimes. The usual stuff; it stopped being a thing around the time I graduated high school."
"The worst I've ever been called is Riley," Raleigh supplied. "Or Ray."
"Right," She got bored of the name game real quick. "So, first thing's first and I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering-"
"About the Jaeger Program?" Yancy interjected, figuring it best to lay the groundwork for the wheels turning in his head.
"Oh, you're so silly!" She swatted him playfully on the hand on the arm of the chair. "How many girls ask to ride your Jaeger?" The way her eyebrows wag suggestively and her head nods forward in odd acknowledgement leaves nothing to the imagination. "Jaeger", as far as the tabloids were concerned, was the new "Disco Disc" (or was that outdated, too? Yancy couldn't keep up with the trends). Yancy felt his face grow warm and his gaze shift unintentionally downward as he readjusted himself in the chair. The crowd started oohing and ahhing.
"Uh, ah, you want a guesstimate?" He inquired, grimacing. The talk host nodded her head and looked to crowd; they really got going, cheering in agreement. Yancy was pretty sure he looked more tomato red than orange now, but he tried play it off as casually as possible when he looked his brother. Raleigh shrugged his shoulders. "About a dozen-"
"A dozen, you sure?"
"Yeah, a dozen sounds about right," Raleigh smiled at his brother as Yancy's chuckle was drowned out by the cheers from the crowd. This was so awkward.
They could just imagine Pentecost rubbing his brow in exasperation.
"What's it like to ride a Jaeger?"
"Well, it's more like driving-" Yancy started.
"-then riding them, really," Raleigh finished, raising his arms to mimic a driver at the wheel.
"There's this whole procedure have to go through, getting this armor on and everything -" Yancy explained.
"Right, you're strapped inside the head of this huge cockpit-"
"-Conn-Pod, that's what they call it. And there's a-"
The interview continued on like that for a good seventeen minutes. A seemingly never ending barrage of questions full double entendre they either caught or didn't; mild interest in the actual mechanics of the Jaeger, because, God, could they talk about the mechanics of the Jaeger, and to the boredom of the host.
When it came time for them to leave, Yancy and Raleigh weren't slow to leave. They were polite, of course, but first chance they got, they were off stage. They figured it would be a straight shot to the car. Instead they were swamped by fans waiting on either side of the door being held back by security. They turned back to leave the other way as Marshall Pentecost stepped over the threshold with a shake of his head.
Yancy and Raleigh shared an uneasy look with each other as they marched forward. They dared to reach out and sign a few photographs of Gipsy Danger standing outside the Los Angeles Shatterdome as it was being washed down for Kaiju Blue. It was hard not to feel unnerved by the attention. The faces red with elation, happiness and pride. The people who wanted them to hold their kids and take pictures.
But, at the same time, it was whole other level of awesome.
Author's Note: Dubious procedures aside, this is largely a result of watching too many Charlie Hunnam/Diego Klattenhoff interviews on YouTube. And I wrote some more, so, there'll be more drabbles. Hang tight.