[There's something so impossible-sounding about "stole a dead rockerboy terrorist," besides 'rockerboy' being a word Palamedes has only ever heard during this one conversation, that it loops back around to being - well, plausible? Sure, why not. V has a visible slot in his head, so why not put a dead terrorist in there - it might as well happen.
He nods along; it continues to make conceptual sense to him, that a second consciousness smashed into the original would alter it in some way both coming and going. The concern is the part where it sounds like it was never meant to smash into an original at all, so...
Well, that's what the wire is for, mostly. Palamedes watches V stick the end of the wire into his hand and then nods, doing the same with the other end. There isn't an effect; there isn't even a feeling to whatever he does with this wire next. There's just Palamedes standing there for a long couple seconds, in turns raising one eyebrow or both and frowning here and there.]
You've got a lot of stuff in there, don't you, [he says, a little incredulously, and then more helpfully,] Necromancy is a flesh-and-blood thing; this can tell me that your flesh and blood is doing pretty well, all things considered, thanks to a series of inorganic parts I cannot see and am just going to have to trust. If you weren't- augmented?- I'd be worried your body is going into overdrive for the wrong reasons.
[A weird effect, like looking at a circuit with half of the connections covered, but all the evidence that the covered pieces seem to be doing what they ought to. Academically, he's fascinated; but ah, yes, the - brain. This is the part that makes him frown, so much less tidy and more - odd, full of pockets of the same static feeling he gets from a trace of thanergy that isn't clear enough to be anything.
There's a worrying amount of that. He assumes that must be 'Johnny,' and decides not to mention it. As for the rest...]
Well— news: you're not out of the woods yet, [here he tugs the wire out of his own hand and pinches blood off the end, gesturing for V to do the same.] But you're not going to fall over comatose anytime soon, from what I can tell. I'll be honest with you: it's ramshackle. Whoever doctored you wherever you were last did inelegant work. But they bought you more time than you'd otherwise have.
[Blunt, but after what V's already said, he figures it's both acceptable and necessary.]
the wire stabby continues as does discussion of terminal illness-like stuff
He nods along; it continues to make conceptual sense to him, that a second consciousness smashed into the original would alter it in some way both coming and going. The concern is the part where it sounds like it was never meant to smash into an original at all, so...
Well, that's what the wire is for, mostly. Palamedes watches V stick the end of the wire into his hand and then nods, doing the same with the other end. There isn't an effect; there isn't even a feeling to whatever he does with this wire next. There's just Palamedes standing there for a long couple seconds, in turns raising one eyebrow or both and frowning here and there.]
You've got a lot of stuff in there, don't you, [he says, a little incredulously, and then more helpfully,] Necromancy is a flesh-and-blood thing; this can tell me that your flesh and blood is doing pretty well, all things considered, thanks to a series of inorganic parts I cannot see and am just going to have to trust. If you weren't- augmented?- I'd be worried your body is going into overdrive for the wrong reasons.
[A weird effect, like looking at a circuit with half of the connections covered, but all the evidence that the covered pieces seem to be doing what they ought to. Academically, he's fascinated; but ah, yes, the - brain. This is the part that makes him frown, so much less tidy and more - odd, full of pockets of the same static feeling he gets from a trace of thanergy that isn't clear enough to be anything.
There's a worrying amount of that. He assumes that must be 'Johnny,' and decides not to mention it. As for the rest...]
Well— news: you're not out of the woods yet, [here he tugs the wire out of his own hand and pinches blood off the end, gesturing for V to do the same.] But you're not going to fall over comatose anytime soon, from what I can tell. I'll be honest with you: it's ramshackle. Whoever doctored you wherever you were last did inelegant work. But they bought you more time than you'd otherwise have.
[Blunt, but after what V's already said, he figures it's both acceptable and necessary.]