*rubs forehead* Gah. Sick again, I think. Still, here it is.
"Well, it can't be helped now," I said after having changed and gotten a mug (and jug) of something that the analysts claimed was coffee. I wouldn't be so sure, but the taste in my mouth made it easier to ignore the taste in my brain, so I wasn't complaining. The office was mine, and pretty much soundproofed, so we could talk in peace there.
"Either way, it does not mean anything," Shizuru replied placidly. "Meister Viola, I would assume, does not realize what or for that matter who it was she saw. She has, at best, speculation ... and if she is anything like I am, that will not be enough. I was careful in withdrawing from the scene."
"Where you were gathering information?" I drawled. Well, tried to. I don't drawl well. Worse than badly with the sort of mix&match going on in my mind right then. "While I understand your enthusiasm, next time ... and I'm not going to pretend there isn't going to be one ... inform at least someone of where you're going."
"I'll take that under advisement."
I nodded. That was as much of an alright as I was going to get. Then I knocked back the coffee and poured myself another.
"Did you manage to catch up with the shooter?" she asked.
I shrugged. "More or less." There's only so many ways you can get to and from the Port proper, whether you want to get in or out of Windbloom. "'Course, I did sort of underestimate the resourcefulness," I spat the last word, "of Schwarz."
"Oh?"
I tapped the left side of my chest. "Explosive charge. Neural trigger via a codeword imprinted into the guy's mind through hypnotic suggestion. Heart go boom."
Shizuru's eyes went wide in a show of surprise at that. Then they were overcome by disappointment. "And I doubt there was anything that could lead us further in his gear."
"There wasn't. They're thorough. Doesn't mean I didn't manage to get anything out of him," I murdered a few million neural connections via caffeine overdose.
"I wasn't aware that you could speak to the dead."
She was definitely interested, but skeptical at the same time.
"I can't. Though I doubt that would be as unpleasant," I muttered, getting another refill. "It's got to do with AT Fields ..."
"I am somewhat familiar with the ..." she began, paused, and looked at me. The sort of look that would have normally lowered ambient temperature by at least a few degrees. "You raped his mind."
"Nothing quite as elegant, no, but call it what you want to," I retorted with a snarl. "It's closer to ripping the bits of his Self that make up his conscious mind and memories out and putting them," I tapped the side of my head, grimacing, "in a walled off spot of space up here. Then dissecting for information."
Frankly, just the sensations involved in doing that were disgusting. Not to mention the moral and ethical implications. I'd considered those more often than I cared to think.
"That is ... disturbing on more levels than I feel comfortable with considering," she admitted after a moment. No screaming or assault with deadly objects followed, which was to be considered a minor victory. "You've done that sort of thing before."
Statement.
"Twice," I nodded.
"You're not going to try and justify? Since he was going to die anyway?"
"Why? Everything else aside, it boils down to just about the most thorough violation of privacy possible," I was getting far too good at shrugging off emotions. "Might as well try to justify it with the fact that he was a killer. The end doesn't justify the means. If it's any consolation, each time I do it the person I end up effectively lobotomizing makes me feel sick."
"It feels that bad?"
"Not in that way. Imagine experiencing the memories and related emotions of an utterly devoted religious fanatic, willing to do _anything_ for his cause," I growled, then finished the mug. Refilled. "That's what I'm having to deal with right now. Hence the caffeine. I'd bleach my brains out if I could, honestly."
"Wouldn't that usually be alcohol?"
"Doesn't work anymore. Metabolism just treats it like more efficient fuel, don't even get a buzz."
Shizuru took a deep breath, still obviously unsetteled.
I didn't blame her, really. I felt the same way.
"You have something useful, then?" she finally asked.
"Yes."
Things take a turn towards the grim side. And yeah, Katz's mind is a pretty messed up place at the best of times. These are not the best of times. And they're about to get worse.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
"Well, it can't be helped now," I said after having changed and gotten a mug (and jug) of something that the analysts claimed was coffee. I wouldn't be so sure, but the taste in my mouth made it easier to ignore the taste in my brain, so I wasn't complaining. The office was mine, and pretty much soundproofed, so we could talk in peace there.
"Either way, it does not mean anything," Shizuru replied placidly. "Meister Viola, I would assume, does not realize what or for that matter who it was she saw. She has, at best, speculation ... and if she is anything like I am, that will not be enough. I was careful in withdrawing from the scene."
"Where you were gathering information?" I drawled. Well, tried to. I don't drawl well. Worse than badly with the sort of mix&match going on in my mind right then. "While I understand your enthusiasm, next time ... and I'm not going to pretend there isn't going to be one ... inform at least someone of where you're going."
"I'll take that under advisement."
I nodded. That was as much of an alright as I was going to get. Then I knocked back the coffee and poured myself another.
"Did you manage to catch up with the shooter?" she asked.
I shrugged. "More or less." There's only so many ways you can get to and from the Port proper, whether you want to get in or out of Windbloom. "'Course, I did sort of underestimate the resourcefulness," I spat the last word, "of Schwarz."
"Oh?"
I tapped the left side of my chest. "Explosive charge. Neural trigger via a codeword imprinted into the guy's mind through hypnotic suggestion. Heart go boom."
Shizuru's eyes went wide in a show of surprise at that. Then they were overcome by disappointment. "And I doubt there was anything that could lead us further in his gear."
"There wasn't. They're thorough. Doesn't mean I didn't manage to get anything out of him," I murdered a few million neural connections via caffeine overdose.
"I wasn't aware that you could speak to the dead."
She was definitely interested, but skeptical at the same time.
"I can't. Though I doubt that would be as unpleasant," I muttered, getting another refill. "It's got to do with AT Fields ..."
"I am somewhat familiar with the ..." she began, paused, and looked at me. The sort of look that would have normally lowered ambient temperature by at least a few degrees. "You raped his mind."
"Nothing quite as elegant, no, but call it what you want to," I retorted with a snarl. "It's closer to ripping the bits of his Self that make up his conscious mind and memories out and putting them," I tapped the side of my head, grimacing, "in a walled off spot of space up here. Then dissecting for information."
Frankly, just the sensations involved in doing that were disgusting. Not to mention the moral and ethical implications. I'd considered those more often than I cared to think.
"That is ... disturbing on more levels than I feel comfortable with considering," she admitted after a moment. No screaming or assault with deadly objects followed, which was to be considered a minor victory. "You've done that sort of thing before."
Statement.
"Twice," I nodded.
"You're not going to try and justify? Since he was going to die anyway?"
"Why? Everything else aside, it boils down to just about the most thorough violation of privacy possible," I was getting far too good at shrugging off emotions. "Might as well try to justify it with the fact that he was a killer. The end doesn't justify the means. If it's any consolation, each time I do it the person I end up effectively lobotomizing makes me feel sick."
"It feels that bad?"
"Not in that way. Imagine experiencing the memories and related emotions of an utterly devoted religious fanatic, willing to do _anything_ for his cause," I growled, then finished the mug. Refilled. "That's what I'm having to deal with right now. Hence the caffeine. I'd bleach my brains out if I could, honestly."
"Wouldn't that usually be alcohol?"
"Doesn't work anymore. Metabolism just treats it like more efficient fuel, don't even get a buzz."
Shizuru took a deep breath, still obviously unsetteled.
I didn't blame her, really. I felt the same way.
"You have something useful, then?" she finally asked.
"Yes."
Things take a turn towards the grim side. And yeah, Katz's mind is a pretty messed up place at the best of times. These are not the best of times. And they're about to get worse.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm