I don't know what commercial airplanes looked like in their time (mid-1900s?). I don't know why they'd be taking a commercial airline. I don't know how exactly they got their weapons past security. I just wanted to write this, because I binged the show recently and I am in love with it. XD
Also, why does this site not allow more than four characters in the summary? This makes me mad. Especially because there are five Jaegers. -_-
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"
As he sets down his weapons case and baggage, Yuliy peeks over at the sound of Philip's frustrated screech. "You gotta be kidding me! Come on, best out of five!"
Fallon laughs victoriously, the kind of laugh that carries without effort. "Too late for that, kiddo! Window seat's mine," he declares, oblivious to the looks he gets from the other people in the boarding gate.
With one large, calloused hand, he reaches out to muss Philip's hair, to the blonde's immense indignation. Yuily quickly ducks as Philip vaults over the row of seats to scramble away from Fallon. The quietest Jaeger sighs as he straightens up, well used to the others' antics by now, and he sits back, allowing himself to relax after a hectic morning.
He glances over at Dorothea and Professor Willard, who are poring over several maps and plotting their course of action, and he unconsciously runs a hand along his weapon container, drawing comfort from the smooth, cool metal of the former instrument case. What was it supposed to hold originally? A clarinet? Trumpet?
The sun is bright and the skies are clear today as he turns his attention back to the runways outside the window, watching the planes come and go. Even after several years of flying all over the world, planes will always be something of a technological marvel to Yuliy. They remind him almost of the predatory birds back home, though they're too bulky and graceless.
Home...His hand clenches around the handle of the instrument case.
Yuliy jumps slightly when a voice over the loudspeaker declares that the flight will be leaving soon, and that boarding has begun. Moving quickly and efficiently, he gathers up his things, like the others are doing. Even Philip seems to have forgotten his ire (temporarily, at least) in favor of the upcoming trip to foreign lands.
"Has everyone got their belongings?" Willard asks, gaze sweeping over them from behind the tinted glass of his monocle. "Let's go, then."
"That one looks like…" Fallon squints, face nearly glued to the window. "...an upside down...rhino...wearing a...top hat."
Philip cranes his neck, stretching over to press his own face against the window as Fallon draws back. "In what world is that a rhino? That's an elephant for sure."
"What? That's definitely a rhino. Look at the horns."
"No way. Those big lumpy things are ears!"
"No, that's the top hat!"
"What kind of top hat looks like that? Are you sure we're even looking at the same one?"
From the row in front of them, Yuliy lets their bickering fade into background noise, as usual. They haven't been in the air for more than an hour, but the two loudest members of the Jaegers are apparently getting restless already, unsurprisingly.
He glances to his left at Dorothea, and her loopy handwriting on the paper in her lap, illuminated starkly by the bright sunlight coming in through the window next to her. It's propped up on a book for a hard surface.
"What are you writing?"
"A postcard to send back home." She smirks, her teal-colored eyes smug as she waves the small piece of paper in the air between two fingers. "My family's gonna be so jealous. They've never left the country."
She goes back to gleefully writing the postcard, and Yuliy stretches out his legs briefly, wondering what to do to keep himself entertained. They had a few mishaps on the way to the airport in the morning, including having to double back for items left behind…
"Crap! I forgot my violin!"
"It's official. Never trust Fallon ever again when he says he has a 'shortcut'."
...nearly getting arrested by security due to a slight miscommunication…
"No, we're from V Shipping," Dorothea tried to explain as the security guards shunted them towards the baggage check.
"They're gonna find our weapons," Philip hissed frantically under his breath, clutching his beloved violin in its case, "and then they're gonna arrest us, and then they're gonna-"
Yuliy tightened his grip on his case instinctively, glacial blue eyes assessing the guards, wondering who to take down first. If he swings his case hard enough-
Then Willard came back with an official-looking person in uniform, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
...and other...incidences. They'd been in such a rush that Yuliy hadn't had much time to figure out what to do on the plane.
He could sleep. When in doubt on a plane, sleep. But he has a feeling Philip and Fallon aren't going to run out of things to entertain themselves with anytime soon, so sleeping might be a futile endeavor.
On his right, the professor is also writing in a small journal, with a larger book propped up beneath it. Yuliy tries to make sense of the strange characters, and then he realizes it's the language of the country they're going to. He stifles a sigh, leaning back in his seat. They all know how to speak the language passably and read bits and pieces, but only Willard typically bothers learning how to read and write it in detail. Yuliy's pretty sure the man doesn't know the meaning of sleep.
Sleep does sound nice, after waking up at six in the morning today (and somehow still barely making it to the flight on time). It sounds like Philip and Fallon have moved on to card games, though, and Yuliy knows from past experience that they can get quite...argumentative while playing BS.
He takes his time sorting through and reorganizing his backpack, making sure he's got everything (even though it's too late to go back now). They left in sort of a hurry, so he sort of threw everything in there a bit messily.
Although, it's a little hard to organize things when he can't pull any of his weapon maintenance items out in plain view. He'll have to transfer his spare blades into his weapon case when they land, he thinks idly as he repacks his few utilitarian belongings.
He pauses when he comes across an old, dog-eared book, colorful illustrations decorating the covers underneath the words, Hanakotoba: Language of Flowers.
A smile tugs at his lips as he runs his thumb across the softened corners of the pages. It was a Christmas gift from Willard, a long time ago. Apparently, the professor noticed him staring longingly at flower shops whenever they passed one. They always move too much, so having actual plants is a no-go, unfortunately.
Even though he's memorized pretty much the entire book by now, he cracks it open again anyway and sits back, oblivious to a hint of a smile on the professor's face next to him.
Life is just great, Philip thinks to himself, and he means that one hundred percent sarcastically.
First of all, Fallon has the window seat, but all he's doing is sleeping. His big head is right in front of the window, too, blocking all but a mere sliver of the view. He was so smug about winning their rock paper scissors game in the boarding gate, which makes Philip doubly pissed off at the burly man.
So Philip is stuck in the middle seat, which is never fun in any situation. He can't see out the window, and there's barely any elbow room in either direction, especially considering the stranger sitting on his other side, who's also sleeping. And if it was just Fallon snoring, Philip could put up with it. Unfortunately, the stranger on his other side is also snoring, somehow managing to be louder than Fallon. And both passengers on either side of the blonde are hogging the armrests.
Philip glares half-heartedly at Fallon's sleeping face—cheek smushed against the palm of his hand, mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he pushes the redhead's elbow off of the armrest, holding his breath. When his arm flops into his lap with no visible reaction from Fallon, he breathes a content sigh and props his arm up.
Until Fallon suddenly reaches over and gives him a noogie with his free arm, eliciting an indignant squawk and some flailing. As he tries to smooth down his hair again, he catches a hint of glacial blue peeking from between two seats in front, and he scowls as Yuliy quickly turns around to face front again.
A chuckle emanates from the redhead's broad chest, followed by a yawn, before he goes back to sleep—with his elbow on the armrest again.
Yuliy sighs as he wanders back up the aisle, stretching his legs. He and the professor switched seats earlier so that he and Dorothea could finalize the plan for once they land, so Yuliy has the aisle seat now, which means he can get up and walk around as he pleases.
He pauses at the row behind theirs and can't help but smile. Both Jaegers are sleeping soundly in their seats. Even as he watches, Philip's head lolls to the side and hits Fallon's broad shoulder. Fallon lets out an extra loud snore, but his eyes remain closed. The blonde doesn't react at all. Hopefully, Fallon doesn't drool onto Philip's hair or anything, or the blonde is going to have a conniption when he wakes up.
A shiver wracks Yuliy's body all of a sudden, and he hurries back to his own seat. He pulls his extra coat out of his backpack and drapes it over himself, still shivering. This is his least favorite part of any plane ride—when it gets cold.
After a few minutes, he leans over to Willard to ask, "Do you know how much longer until we land?"
The professor pulls a pocket watch out. "Another two hours."
He stifles another sigh and slumps lower in his seat, trying to huddle as much of himself under the coat as he can.
The cold always reminds him of that night—when he nearly let it drown him, drained of any will to escape it. If not for the professor, he would've gladly let the snow and ice bury him like it surely did Mikhail.
He still loves winter and snow, though. If nothing else, it reminds him of home. It reminds him of how Mikhail would tuck him into his side with a smirk and an arm around his shoulders whenever the temperatures plunged, and how warm the look in Mother's eyes was as she watched them chase each other around, snowballs in hand. It reminds him of better times, and it keeps the flames of vengeance burning when he remembers everything the vampires took away.
It was winter then, too, when Willard introduced Yuliy to Dorothea and Fallon (Philip joined later). He was shyer then, more timid, and he didn't know at the moment what those strange people would come to mean to him.
Willard nearly jumps when he feels a soft weight hit his shoulder. Dorothea's expression pinches in fond amusement as she breathes out a quiet laugh, and he turns carefully to see a head of black and white resting against his shoulder. Yuliy doesn't seem to be shivering anymore, at least.
Through a careful joint effort, they manage to wrap a blanket somewhat securely around the teenager, who sleeps soundly through the whole thing. The plane hits a spot of turbulence suddenly, and Willard tenses, darting a careful look at Yuliy. But the boy sleeps on, evidently exhausted by their rushed early morning, and the professor allows himself to relax, feeling fondness and relief mingle warmly.
He looks so peaceful. Yuliy might be a quiet person, but quiet doesn't always mean at ease—certainly not for the troubled Sirius survivor. Willard is determined to make this last as long as possible.
At the sound of rustling paper, he glances up to see Dorothea packing up the maps and books. "We'll figure it out when we land," she whispers. "Might as well catch some sleep. Those two are doing the same."
She jerks a thumb back at the row behind them, and Willard cranes his neck to peer between the seats, trying not to move too much. He has to stifle a chuckle when he catches a glimpse of Philip and Fallon, both completely dead to the world. Even as he carefully turns back around, Dorothea is settling into a more comfortable position, eyes closed.
Seeing as all of his coworkers are out cold, Willard decides to follow their lead and closes his eyes too.
The professor wakes up to someone shaking his shoulder. Biting back a yawn, he blinks a question at Yuliy, who's awake now (and still wrapped up in the blanket), hair sticking up every which way. The boy smiles a rare smile and simply points past Willard, colors and light reflected in his bright blue eyes.
He glances over to see Dorothea leaning back to shake Philip and Fallon awake, and the air rushes out of his lungs at the sight stretched out beyond the window.
Pinks, blues, purples, yellows, and oranges light up the sky in a brilliant sunset, painting the clouds below in deep, vibrant shades of magenta and violet. The only other sunsets he's seen that are this majestic are on an ocean coast. The fluffy, billowing clouds beneath them add something different to the scene all by themselves.
A quick glance back shows that even Philip and Fallon are staring at the sight in awe, despite how Dorothea woke them up. For several minutes, the Jaegers simply watch the clouds go by, illuminated in the sunset, through tiny windows of sky.
I had some fun writing this :) And I believe they call this an omake?
"...Did you drool in my hair?"
"No—no, stop—stop touching—stop it!"