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[ What happened to being open and honest with her??? ]
[ jk she Knows You. But that doesn't mean he's not escaping without being sighed at. ]
That it does. But, if you do not wish to relieve me of a little boredom while you are so indisposed, I shall ask Richie to give me a full report sometime. I have no doubt he will paint your escapades quite colorfully.
[ Wally. That isn't even a passive aggressive guilt prod. Richie's annoying, but at least he chats without feeling like you're pulling teeth. Or she'll check for herself what you've got TiVo'd away up there. Either way, she'll have deets. Anyway, she has other thoughts to press that she cannot outsource. ]
Out of academic curiosity, does it hurt? When you are thrust back inside your vessel. Does that body of yours experience pain of any sort?
[ Or is it like a ghost with better hands. >:| ]
[ jk she Knows You. But that doesn't mean he's not escaping without being sighed at. ]
That it does. But, if you do not wish to relieve me of a little boredom while you are so indisposed, I shall ask Richie to give me a full report sometime. I have no doubt he will paint your escapades quite colorfully.
[ Wally. That isn't even a passive aggressive guilt prod. Richie's annoying, but at least he chats without feeling like you're pulling teeth. Or she'll check for herself what you've got TiVo'd away up there. Either way, she'll have deets. Anyway, she has other thoughts to press that she cannot outsource. ]
Out of academic curiosity, does it hurt? When you are thrust back inside your vessel. Does that body of yours experience pain of any sort?
[ Or is it like a ghost with better hands. >:| ]
[ Knew it. ]
Dear me one would never expect you of all people to have such a soft spot for souls trapped within objects
I can appreciate a thoughtful act if that is what constitutes having a heart these days
As much as I do so love simply occupying space because I take up so little this has made me feel
[ .... ]
Welcome I suppose
I should thank you for that
Dear me one would never expect you of all people to have such a soft spot for souls trapped within objects
I can appreciate a thoughtful act if that is what constitutes having a heart these days
As much as I do so love simply occupying space because I take up so little this has made me feel
[ .... ]
Welcome I suppose
I should thank you for that
[That thread is still in progress, let me live. Anyway he awards her threat to go to Richie with a snort—she's not wrong. Look, he'll happily chat about all sorts of things. Just, y'know, not himself. Which is, of course, the part of that debacle that Sandra chooses to focus on. Still, Sandra's the closest he's got to common ground in all this, so he'll only hesitate a little, before trying to tackle the topic. ...Not that he's going to be particularly good at it. He hums in a hedging kind of way. But then—]
Sort of. Guess it's hard to explain. [It doesn't...not hurt. But it's more in the disorienting full-sense snap-crackle of the Overload kicking him back, or the psychosomatic anticipation of what he thinks he ought to feel that does it. Like the Transistor is just doing its best to provide feedback with what information it's got.] ...Not the way it used to, in any case.
[It would be too much to expect that being able to walk around like himself would be quite the same as being himself again. Feeling just about anything like he's really alive again—pain or otherwise. When it comes down to it, it's still just another function.]
Different for you, I guess.
[Despite the surface similarities, it tends to be.]
Sort of. Guess it's hard to explain. [It doesn't...not hurt. But it's more in the disorienting full-sense snap-crackle of the Overload kicking him back, or the psychosomatic anticipation of what he thinks he ought to feel that does it. Like the Transistor is just doing its best to provide feedback with what information it's got.] ...Not the way it used to, in any case.
[It would be too much to expect that being able to walk around like himself would be quite the same as being himself again. Feeling just about anything like he's really alive again—pain or otherwise. When it comes down to it, it's still just another function.]
Different for you, I guess.
[Despite the surface similarities, it tends to be.]
[ Too late. You had your opportunity to take advantage of her vagueness and spin the conversation away from you specifically and you spurned it. ]
[ She cocks her head to his response with a quiet, vested interest. The answer is a relatable one, if equally vague, but almost relatable in that vagueness, specifically. Nothing quite feeling right, the line between legitimate sensation and tricks of the mind a hair too thin. ]
Yes and no, I would hazard to say, [ she returns. ] Certainly not when I retract this form of mine, though I do have a bit less to pack away than you. [ Literally as well as... solidly. ]
No, it has been quite some time since I last felt legitimate pain. Besides, I suppose, that which comes with the territory. [ Because I still refuse to believe plunging into the Pyre isn't at least Pretty Hot. ] Though I do think I caught enough for several lifetimes when mine ought to have ended, so it was almost—dare I say—pleasant, for the first century or two.
[ See? Look how easy it is to overshare about yourself, Boxer. She could do it all day. ]
[ She cocks her head to his response with a quiet, vested interest. The answer is a relatable one, if equally vague, but almost relatable in that vagueness, specifically. Nothing quite feeling right, the line between legitimate sensation and tricks of the mind a hair too thin. ]
Yes and no, I would hazard to say, [ she returns. ] Certainly not when I retract this form of mine, though I do have a bit less to pack away than you. [ Literally as well as... solidly. ]
No, it has been quite some time since I last felt legitimate pain. Besides, I suppose, that which comes with the territory. [ Because I still refuse to believe plunging into the Pyre isn't at least Pretty Hot. ] Though I do think I caught enough for several lifetimes when mine ought to have ended, so it was almost—dare I say—pleasant, for the first century or two.
[ See? Look how easy it is to overshare about yourself, Boxer. She could do it all day. ]
[Seems hard, tbh. Also wow, that's horrific. After a beat, carefully dry—]
Really paying it forward.
[But he'll go on and take the second chance at bait now that she's laid it out for him.]
Territory?
[Mostly a leading question. He knows that she's got some kind of job she's supposed to be doing, somehow. But he'd never gotten around to prying about just how it (apparently painfully???) works. Didn't really ever seem the time.]
Really paying it forward.
[But he'll go on and take the second chance at bait now that she's laid it out for him.]
Territory?
[Mostly a leading question. He knows that she's got some kind of job she's supposed to be doing, somehow. But he'd never gotten around to prying about just how it (apparently painfully???) works. Didn't really ever seem the time.]
Edited (I wasn't done, dw.) 2018-02-08 07:23 (UTC)
[ So she does recall. It's something he's been curious about—whether gold or silver makes a difference when she might never have seen either—but even he has the sliver of tact.
Still, something going unsaid doesn't make it unfelt; there's a moment where his thoughts grow muddled, melancholic and syrupy. (He's happy to inform her that she is, in fact, oh-so-green. But he'd much rather show her, if only...) He scrubs it over quickly as she departs back into her orb, leaving with the usual quip and not-so-usual note of approval. His response is a little huff of laughter, almost haughty. ]
If you'd be so kind.
[ He leans back a bit, centering her in his stupid finger-framed viewfinder, like he might be able to spot her in the orb's halftones if he observes vigorously enough. ]
...I await your glowing critique, of course.
Still, something going unsaid doesn't make it unfelt; there's a moment where his thoughts grow muddled, melancholic and syrupy. (He's happy to inform her that she is, in fact, oh-so-green. But he'd much rather show her, if only...) He scrubs it over quickly as she departs back into her orb, leaving with the usual quip and not-so-usual note of approval. His response is a little huff of laughter, almost haughty. ]
If you'd be so kind.
[ He leans back a bit, centering her in his stupid finger-framed viewfinder, like he might be able to spot her in the orb's halftones if he observes vigorously enough. ]
...I await your glowing critique, of course.
I know enough
[ closes eyes. Red might have funded most of it, but he still went out of his way to spend far too much. ]
Then in that case well done you for preventing him doing something completely stupid at least
I know not what it is he pursues but he seems as if he would sacrifice life and limb for his projects given half the chance
[ Or at the very least food. Which is essentially life... She really doesn't understand Art sorry guys. ]
[ closes eyes. Red might have funded most of it, but he still went out of his way to spend far too much. ]
Then in that case well done you for preventing him doing something completely stupid at least
I know not what it is he pursues but he seems as if he would sacrifice life and limb for his projects given half the chance
[ Or at the very least food. Which is essentially life... She really doesn't understand Art sorry guys. ]
Edited (I HAVE NO EXCUSE AT THIS POINT) 2018-02-09 15:54 (UTC)
[ you lazy fuck. At least after all this time, she seems hardly bothered by her plight. Just casual enough to make it mega awkward. ]
Not the worst conceivable consolation prize, no.
[ Only almost. She'll let him run away with that bait for now. If only because it sparks another academic curiosity she's had kicking around in her head ever since she'd discovered her guestlist was not restricted to participating in the Rites. ]
My duty. Or more literally, I suppose, my space within this Crystal. Do you have anything of the sort, in your Transistor? A place to stretch your imaginary legs, between your jaunts into the physical?
Not the worst conceivable consolation prize, no.
[ Only almost. She'll let him run away with that bait for now. If only because it sparks another academic curiosity she's had kicking around in her head ever since she'd discovered her guestlist was not restricted to participating in the Rites. ]
My duty. Or more literally, I suppose, my space within this Crystal. Do you have anything of the sort, in your Transistor? A place to stretch your imaginary legs, between your jaunts into the physical?
...Something like that.
[He hardly talks about it, and people never seem to ask. Studiously avoids the topic, around Red especially. He does, yeah. Though he gets the feeling that's not necessarily by design.
(The Country, or so he sometimes thinks of it. To himself. Secretly, not without some gallows humor, defensive irony...or something a little more apropos than he'd like to think. After all, it is just...calm. Quiet. Enough that he can almost forget it, when his focus is directed solely upward and outward, to the place outside the Transistor. Blue sky and gold grass as far as the eye can see, when he isn't.
The Country...or as good as he's going to get, now.)]
Don't think I'm supposed to be out here, though.
[Unlike her, it seems, who had been given her territory with her imprisonment. Every other Trace they found just got quickly filed away. Asleep. Themselves but not themselves. Capable of no real thought or sense or speech after they were integrated. And he's never been able to find them, here. Not Lillian, or Mr. Moyle, or Sybil. Or...anyone.]
[He hardly talks about it, and people never seem to ask. Studiously avoids the topic, around Red especially. He does, yeah. Though he gets the feeling that's not necessarily by design.
(The Country, or so he sometimes thinks of it. To himself. Secretly, not without some gallows humor, defensive irony...or something a little more apropos than he'd like to think. After all, it is just...calm. Quiet. Enough that he can almost forget it, when his focus is directed solely upward and outward, to the place outside the Transistor. Blue sky and gold grass as far as the eye can see, when he isn't.
The Country...or as good as he's going to get, now.)]
Don't think I'm supposed to be out here, though.
[Unlike her, it seems, who had been given her territory with her imprisonment. Every other Trace they found just got quickly filed away. Asleep. Themselves but not themselves. Capable of no real thought or sense or speech after they were integrated. And he's never been able to find them, here. Not Lillian, or Mr. Moyle, or Sybil. Or...anyone.]
[ It's a little easier to think to ask, when one is in the same boat more or less. And while she may prefer a bit more gumption in her stories than Boxer ever sees fit to provide, how he chooses to word his experience is far more thought-provoking than digging the raw memories out of him on her own... At least, it is sometimes. Sometimes it hits closer to home, and others... Others just serve to confuse her. ]
Out here, you say, while you are still in there. You are beginning to lose me already.
[ Mostly, anyway. There are certainly other spirits in the Crystal with her, and though they are no deeper within it than she, they do not have access to the full span of her agency. They remain far from the Crystal's surface, quiet and recluse, so much so that she occasionally forgets their existence. A good number of them have faded off now, anyway... She can't even admit that she's taken the time to determine which. ]
Out here, you say, while you are still in there. You are beginning to lose me already.
[ Mostly, anyway. There are certainly other spirits in the Crystal with her, and though they are no deeper within it than she, they do not have access to the full span of her agency. They remain far from the Crystal's surface, quiet and recluse, so much so that she occasionally forgets their existence. A good number of them have faded off now, anyway... She can't even admit that she's taken the time to determine which. ]
[How dare you turn this infodump around on me.
Anyway, that's what happens when you don't take the easy way out and just mindread him, I guess. There's a compressed pause, after that. A quietly frustrated kind of silence, the kind that gives off the sense that he'd be scrubbing his hands over his face, if he could. (Or that he is, wherever he's ended up in there, where she couldn't see him even if she had the capacity.) He hesitates. Then tries again.]
Every time... [It's slow. Unsure, at first. Like he's finding his footing. Or deciding how much he really wants to continue this conversation. Then—]
Every time a Trace is recorded. I can talk with them. Just for a few seconds. After that, it's just...quiet. Don't know where it is they go.
[Their data is still there. Intact, Recorded. (Save for his. ERROR: SUBJECT DATA CORRUPTED UPON INTEGRATION.)]
I've looked around. There's just...no one.
Anyway, that's what happens when you don't take the easy way out and just mindread him, I guess. There's a compressed pause, after that. A quietly frustrated kind of silence, the kind that gives off the sense that he'd be scrubbing his hands over his face, if he could. (Or that he is, wherever he's ended up in there, where she couldn't see him even if she had the capacity.) He hesitates. Then tries again.]
Every time... [It's slow. Unsure, at first. Like he's finding his footing. Or deciding how much he really wants to continue this conversation. Then—]
Every time a Trace is recorded. I can talk with them. Just for a few seconds. After that, it's just...quiet. Don't know where it is they go.
[Their data is still there. Intact, Recorded. (Save for his. ERROR: SUBJECT DATA CORRUPTED UPON INTEGRATION.)]
I've looked around. There's just...no one.
[ okok fine. also shrug emoji at both our game mechanics, if this isn't alright lmk, idek what all we've covered ]
[ Look she can do that whenever she wants. It's cute when he talks about himself. Like an awkward teenager. She holds her silence while he goes about trying to articulate himself, trying to wrap her head around the concept for herself. ]
When you say Trace, do you mean souls, of a sort?
[ For the sake of this back-and-forth, she's going to go digging for supplementary information. Finds, for her troubles, a ravaged pale corpse upon a street corner, shouting from beyond the grave in corrupted whispers. No matter his answer, she goes casting about deeper, focusing hard upon the sword across from her, less the man she has come to know it as, and the container it truly is, by design or otherwise. Platt... Platt... ]
[ Sure enough, with attention brought to a single, piercing point, they're noticeable. Though Platt may be a bit of a stretch, one can only assume by context that she is among the souls trapped inside. The souls themselves... are deathly silent. Never has she encountered a mind so impenetrable, let alone so many. Perhaps not so much impenetrable as they are... Well, traces. Nothing to be gleaned from them, aside from their presence. ]
[ She's silent for a moment. Contemplating. ]
If that is the case, would you consider humoring my curiosity once again? It is not as if we have much of anything else to do, and I am certain it would align with yours.
[ Look she can do that whenever she wants. It's cute when he talks about himself. Like an awkward teenager. She holds her silence while he goes about trying to articulate himself, trying to wrap her head around the concept for herself. ]
When you say Trace, do you mean souls, of a sort?
[ For the sake of this back-and-forth, she's going to go digging for supplementary information. Finds, for her troubles, a ravaged pale corpse upon a street corner, shouting from beyond the grave in corrupted whispers. No matter his answer, she goes casting about deeper, focusing hard upon the sword across from her, less the man she has come to know it as, and the container it truly is, by design or otherwise. Platt... Platt... ]
[ Sure enough, with attention brought to a single, piercing point, they're noticeable. Though Platt may be a bit of a stretch, one can only assume by context that she is among the souls trapped inside. The souls themselves... are deathly silent. Never has she encountered a mind so impenetrable, let alone so many. Perhaps not so much impenetrable as they are... Well, traces. Nothing to be gleaned from them, aside from their presence. ]
[ She's silent for a moment. Contemplating. ]
If that is the case, would you consider humoring my curiosity once again? It is not as if we have much of anything else to do, and I am certain it would align with yours.
[itt: sggs staring bleakly at commitment to game mechanics. yolo, ig, you're great.
He hums a hard to say to her first question, unaware of the digging she does to supplement it. Could be. People here can deal in terms that don't always translate. Ghosts, souls, magic. In the end, it all seems to be relative.
The second, though— As slow as he is to let her pry answers out, it's not out of unwillingness, necessarily. Just...unfamiliarity, compulsive caution. (The kneejerk assumption that no one needs to know or no one particularly cares to know and he's better off keeping things under wraps where he can.) And she's not wrong—it's a mutually beneficial kind of curiosity. Inanimate Objects Anonymous.]
Yeah, go ahead. [He can try, anyway. Of course, he assumes it's another question. Not much else for the two of them to do.] What'd you have in mind?
He hums a hard to say to her first question, unaware of the digging she does to supplement it. Could be. People here can deal in terms that don't always translate. Ghosts, souls, magic. In the end, it all seems to be relative.
The second, though— As slow as he is to let her pry answers out, it's not out of unwillingness, necessarily. Just...unfamiliarity, compulsive caution. (The kneejerk assumption that no one needs to know or no one particularly cares to know and he's better off keeping things under wraps where he can.) And she's not wrong—it's a mutually beneficial kind of curiosity. Inanimate Objects Anonymous.]
Yeah, go ahead. [He can try, anyway. Of course, he assumes it's another question. Not much else for the two of them to do.] What'd you have in mind?
[ :'|b ]
[ If he worries about looking the fool, atop his reservedness, for being so uncertain, he should have no fear with her. She would like to see anyone handle being confined to an inanimate object half as gracefully as he seems to. Richie just about pissed himself just being invited inside, it doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in her. But Boxer, he's already got a foot in the door, as it were. ]
Concentrate over here, would you?
[ And with that uselessly vague instruction, she sets about latching firmly into his consciousness and giving it an experimental yank. Truthfully, she's making an effort to grab hold of the lot within the sword, but just as her attempts to penetrate their thoughts slide off like an icy surface, her claws barely scrape across their surfaces. In the end, all that she can lift from the sword remains the one that got away in the first place. ]
[ And so when next he wakes from a world gone dark, he'll be standing alone on a blackened court—you know the place—shrouded in swirls of green and gold hue. Well, alone save for Sandra, standing opposite him before an inset of stained glass much like the one at his heels, but much more alone than she had been academically intending him to be. The figure, solid as it had once been in the simulations, gives a shrug. ]
Worth a shot, I suppose. At least you made it.
[ If he worries about looking the fool, atop his reservedness, for being so uncertain, he should have no fear with her. She would like to see anyone handle being confined to an inanimate object half as gracefully as he seems to. Richie just about pissed himself just being invited inside, it doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in her. But Boxer, he's already got a foot in the door, as it were. ]
Concentrate over here, would you?
[ And with that uselessly vague instruction, she sets about latching firmly into his consciousness and giving it an experimental yank. Truthfully, she's making an effort to grab hold of the lot within the sword, but just as her attempts to penetrate their thoughts slide off like an icy surface, her claws barely scrape across their surfaces. In the end, all that she can lift from the sword remains the one that got away in the first place. ]
[ And so when next he wakes from a world gone dark, he'll be standing alone on a blackened court—you know the place—shrouded in swirls of green and gold hue. Well, alone save for Sandra, standing opposite him before an inset of stained glass much like the one at his heels, but much more alone than she had been academically intending him to be. The figure, solid as it had once been in the simulations, gives a shrug. ]
Worth a shot, I suppose. At least you made it.
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