[Reinforced skeleton! Subdermal armor!! Palamedes eyebrows shoot up, like - it's always been gauche to tell someone you desperately want to get your hands on their skeleton, but this seems even more so, being pure curiosity. What would he do with a reinforced skeleton, other than marvel...
He takes a brief mental tangent through wondering who came up with these things and how involved the process is of getting a skeleton reinforced, or subdermal armor, ah, at all— is there reading material. Can he study some notes. Good god.]
Do you— I'm guessing at the term, overcharge? The limits of organic matter compared to synthetic must be a persistent concern even with precautionary measures taken. It's mind-blowing that your body has synced so completely with inorganic parts.
[And there's a slot in his head!!! It keeps getting wilder!!!!!! Palamedes holds up his hands, like, he's calm. He's not being weird.]
Nah-- no. [ Moved to clasp the other man at the shoulders, V grins and shakes his head. ] Not too much. Just been a time since I met somebody this curious 'thout them lookin' to strip me for my parts.
Uh. Cyberware parts.
[ Well, and the rest but that wasn't what he meant and it's a great thing that he's not all that into being ashamed about his body, or embarrassed all that easy. Apparently entertained, he squeezes and then releases the man with a short, sharp, but gentle pat to the rounds of his shoulders. ]
Not overcharged. Got inbuilt ways to drain excess, though when they first started experimenting with usin' cyberware enhancements.... [ He makes a bzzzt sound, clearly no good things happened to the pioneers of the cyberware trade. ]
It's uh... somethin' called cyberpsychosis. Best way I can explain is... losin' touch with humanity. Or what makes people human. Link 'tween too much cyberware and cyberpsychosis is a thing where 'm from.
[Oh— he's grabbed? Palamedes blinks and sort of - not buckles, he's not so much skin and bones that even a light shoulder clap will knock him over, how mortifying, but he does sort of fold in the way that a person unused to boisterous shoulder-clasping might. Aha - but it's only a flicker of surprise, far too interested in the many twists and turns of Synthetic Parts to be uncomfortable.
Where does the excess drain to, he wonders, and what does that look like— static? He knows what static is—]
For what it's worth, I don't like to strip things for parts, organic or otherwise. Even if they aren't being used anymore.
[Some necromancers see a body as free real estate, but he likes to think he's, hm, more ethical than that? The Sixth are too enamored of the body, some of the others from his world like to say— the point is, he doesn't go around desecrating bodies, a thing that feels super weird to say, but. Ahem.]
I have about a thousand more questions, but more immediately— This place isn't exactly on your level, is it? Are you going to be alright if something breaks?
[ It's good to know, if not least because V's got some experience with people - himself included - suddenly making choices they would never usually. 'course, this choom could be lying through his teeth about all this, and maybe it's all an act.
Somehow V really doesn't think so, and whatever second-hand paranoia he might've felt thanks to a certain long gone rockerboy-slash-brain-parasite, he's more than happy to take things at face value.
The man makes a good point regardless, and that chuckle on a breath out is less genuine amusement and more wistful now. ]
Long past my use by.
This ain't my first experience of a world that's not mine. 'cept last one had scientists that did somethin' to my brain, patched it up sorta, so...
Yeah, you're right. But at this point? No idea what's gonna give out first; cyberware or my head.
[ This all took a bit of a nosedive and V has the good grace to look apologetic. ]
Tried to find a medic when I first arrived. Just to uh... check this out.
[ He taps two flesh and bone fingers against his temple and then takes a breath in before finding something interesting to stare at on the wall. ]
[Well, that's what the kids call a bummer, huh. Palamedes frowns, brow furrowed— it strikes him as patently unfair, and not for the first time, that they can flop out of the sea as squids and still grow back into people with life-threatening problems. Hell, he still needs glasses, even that little is illogical at best.
He hums- put a pin in "ain't my first experience," he'll circle back- but good god, is nothing easy?]
Did you? Find a medic, that is. [He pauses, glances away to make a hasty purse-lipped decision, and looks back. Okay,] I'm not a doctor, but if it's only a... preliminary status update you need, I might be able to help with that.
[If that's odd to offer a stranger, well, they're already talking about un-patched brains and loitering in an abandoned house, so. That line has been well and truly passed. He holds up his hands idly, as if to say no pressure, really—]
I don't know what your necromancer specialized in, but I'm pretty good at, eh— let's call it analysis.
Uh, [ is this a slightly sheepish look interjecting this two syllable answer? Maybe. ] no.
Figured since I didn't flatline yet... it can't be so bad, right?
[ He's hoping, he really is. Though at the offer of a status update, V can't and doesn't hold back the strangely anxiety-riddled relief that sweeps across his features. Somebody who might be able to tell him if he's two breaths away from calling it a day in a real permanent way. Maybe that 'cant be so bad' attitude is a small white lie. Or a big one. ]
I don't got anythin' to pay ya with, 'cept more 'I owe ya one's.
[That shouldn't make him grin but it does, albeit tight-lipped and rueful. Oh, bud.]
Are you sure you aren't a necromancer, yourself?
["I'm not dead yet so it's fine" is peak necromancer, trust him, he's heard it and said it enough times himself. He shakes his head lightly - never mind - and reaches for the satchel hanging at his hip, but ah-]
First, you don't have to pay me; you don't have to owe me, either, but if it makes you feel better, sure. I'll ask for a favor sometime. [a shrug! a favor like "wow push this heavy box for me, cool thanks," there are no rules.] Second, do you want to do this here? I can, but I know 'dusty hovel' isn't everyone's first choice.
akjsh sorry pal ur getting the no context dramatic details unfiltered XD
[ It's a Statement, sure, and he doesn't seem to recognize that for a long few seconds beyond not being particularly fussy about the dusty hovel surroundings. Eventually his brain catches up and yeah, he's talking to a necromancer but there's some deets lacking even he knows are owed. ]
Prob'ly got some context to fill in for ya, right?
[ Rubbing at the back of his neck, his fingertips eventually ghost bravely over the chipslots in his skull. How to explain his first death... ]
How 'bout we go to wherever feels good for ya, and I'll explain whatever you need me to?
[Oh, Palamedes thinks, and then, gross, but that wouldn't be polite to say. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again, considers, and then says,]
It was a locked room, for me. Give or take a few technical details.
[So there's that, he doesn't know what other way to smooth over the concept of dying-but-not-really other than to shrug about knowing those particular steps. Not his first rodeo, etc. He holds up a finger, then roots around in his satchel before pulling out what appears to be a small coil of copper wire, because it is. He picks a bit of dust off one of the ends, then holds it up.]
I can manage a rough diagnostic of your vitals with this, if you're willing. Whatever details you've got might help put together the rest, and— d'you know what psychometry is?
[..........OH, yes, the actual question: location, location, location.] I can work anywhere.
v is racking up a substantial iou debt to pal HE CAN LIVE WITH NOSY
[ With questions of his own now loitering front of mind, V's head tilts briefly, subtly, and he wants to ask how Palamedes is dealing with it. Wants to know if being a necromancer makes it easier or harder to deal with... all of it.
First time he returned to life was with an uninvited visitor in his neural network riding his body shotgun. Second time he returned without him and not a day's gone by where he hasn't missed that asshole since.
But there's questions to focus on - probably important ones. ]
Short versions are: no, dunno what psychometry is. And I was dyin' 'cause my neural network was bein' taken over by an engram that wasn't mine for a while. Did more damage than I should've been able to live with when I--
[ Hmm. This bit's still difficult to say. ]
Got put back in my own body as an engram 'thout 'im. 'thout Johnny. 'cept my neural network was already rewired to be the right environment for his engram so mine was... alien to my own brain.
Last place I 'member bein', they stablized what was goin' on up there. Slowed down the rate o' rejection, guessin'. They never explained how and I didn't ask. No idea if that's still... workin'.
pal's list of iou cash-ins is just lifting boxes, anyway cw: sticking wires into skin
[The answers to all of those questions are, of course, he's not dealing with it on purpose, he does not intend to deal with it anytime soon, and it's incredibly shitty regardless of necromancer status.
Instead, he works on unwinding some of the copper wire while V explains his - frankly insane situation, if only because Palamedes has seen the completely organic version of it before, he thinks? He'd never had time to ask about the mechanics of why a friend's memory was a royal mess and why another, separate friend appeared to be knocking about in her brain, but—
Huh. Very necromancer, indeed.]
An "engram" is a consciousness, I'm assuming? And your implanted technology altered the landscape, so to speak, to accommodate the interloper— that makes sense.
[Well. As much as anything of this nature would.]
The energy it takes to run two nervous systems at once is already overly taxing; two entire consciousnesses must take an astronomical amount of power. If you're stabilized, the only task left is undoing the work of the first rewrite.
[Super simple!! He could probably do this to a normal brain without Stuff in it, but that's for later. He holds the wire up, one end in each hand.]
This is for vitals; you won't notice a thing, but if we connect you to me with this, I'll be able to get a decent sweep of your body's overall status. You would have to break skin with it, though; I usually prefer using the soft part of the hand, here, [he pinches between thumb and forefinger, then holds out one end of the wire.]
Psychometry, on the other hand, is the ghost-within-the-thing. Sort of. Necromantic energies leave a trace, and if I can find that, I can get a read on the memories associated with it. It's— easier when the emotional connection is stronger. [And all of this thing, the touch-memory-magic, he mentions because,] It's not always voluntary; not mentioning it beforehand wouldn't be fair to your privacy.
[anyway stab this wire into your hand]
at this rate v will be pal's moving guy if he ever needs to move house hah cw: wire stabby in hand
[ Insane is what it felt like, at times, and V's nodding his agreement - engram like the digital copy of a person's consciousness, exactly. He's watching Palamedes unwind that copper wire as he absorbs what's being asked of him. Does he understand everything? Yeah, he thinks so.
Regardless, he's grateful. ]
I'll skip to the part where I tell ya what was prob'ly the most powerful megacorp in my world patented storin' digital copies - memories, thoughts, motivations, so... personality - o' rich people on their megaservers for a price.
And-- might've stole somethin' from 'em that had the engram of a dead rockerboy terrorist on it that ended up here.
[ He taps one of those chipslots he's got in his head; the one that has something in it. ]
Johnny's gone now, 's just me in here. [ Sometimes it still feels messed up he's alone now, fuck he misses Johnny. ] And last time this got yanked out, my whole personality shifted. Wasn't ideal. So, best I can tell, chip's now an integrated part of my neural network. Part that makes me not an asshole.
[ And that's a whole other story - one that's quite likely to crop up.
He's already reached up to accept that copper wire, and it's only because the other man mentions breaking skin specifically he doesn't try and engineer a way to use the port he's got on the inside of his wrist. So he presses the end of that wire into the very flesh, blood and bone part of his left hand and immediately looks up at Palamedes to check he's done it right. ]
the wire stabby continues as does discussion of terminal illness-like stuff
[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.]
cw: wire hand stuff but last one, mention of previous mugging
[ Despite the reason Palamedes is hooking them up with wire, V can't help but breathe out his amusement at the way the man phrases things. It's kinda weird and V's only too happy to take enjoyment from that. He's here for anybody whose vibe is so unashamedly their own.
That half smile presses into something more serious as the results of whatever analysis Pal can do with that wire is shared. Considering up until this moment he had no idea if he was a step away from flatlining, the news is positive. The next breath out is filled with relief as he twists the wire from out of his hand and releases. ]
Maybe at some point explainin' how that [ he gestures at the wire ] works is somethin' ya could do for me, 'cause I'm curious as hell.
It's better than I was expectin', though. 'ppreciate that ya did that for me.
[ Which is just one more thing on a list of things that Palamedes has helped him with, he owes big time no matter what the other man insists. It makes asking the next thing harder, but it's got to be done. ]
I... we only just met, and so far I've not been helpful at all. You don't gotta say yeah, but right now you prob'ly got the best understandin' o' what I'm workin' with.
[ Which is to say... ]
Last place I was, this got pulled outta my head 'thout my consent.
[ He taps the relic tucked away into one of those chipslots. A nice way to say he was mugged for his hardware. ]
It should've killed me, havin' it removed like it was. 'cept my brain is a mess, like ya just saw, so it switched off any chance I had of bein'... decent. Best we figured is it disconnected the parts my brain needs to be empathetic.
[ He'll just let that sink in for a moment before: ]
I hurt a lot o' people I care about, and people I didn't even know. So... guess what 'm tryin' to ask is if ya see me actin' like a piece of shit, smack my ass to the ground and check my chipslot. If the chip ain't there, lock me the fuck up 'til it's found or leave me there if it's gone for good, 'cause I can't be trusted 'thout it. Only way to keep people safe.
[Palamedes hums as he begins rolling the wire back up; sure, he can explain this trick one of these days. He's curious about what kind of necromancy V's necromancer partner employed, because it seems to be different every time, so - he makes a mental note: trade necromancy stories.
And as he tucks the wire away again, as V makes his case for this big question of his, he raises an eyebrow, curious. The idea of anything being pulled out of a head - or any other body part - without consent is, hm, horrifying! Cyberware or not; that makes him grimace sympathetically, and...
'Smack my ass to the ground,' ha— if he gets to cheat with necromancy, maybe, otherwise he will merely be swatting uselessly at V's shoulder and going 'no!' He nods, says,] Sure, I can handle that.
[And then stops to think about how this is, probably, a thing normal people think about for more than five seconds, particularly when a near stranger with a very strange set of circumstances is asking. He thinks about this. He thinks, huh!, and he puts the thought away somewhere else; now that he's all but rooted around in V's skull, he's pretty sure they are at least friends, and obviously this is a normal friends thing to do.
It's the bit at the end there that gets him, 'keep people safe'— as if Palamedes could listen to a fundamentally good person entreat him to help and go eh, no thanks. Please.]
I know a few tricks that don't even need the wire; if I'm around, you'll be alright. Somebody around here has to know more about mixing organic and inorganic hardware. I'll ask around. In the meantime, keep out of trouble.
[ As good as he can be at managing his own emotions, the last five minutes has been heavy duty. His gratitude towards Palamedes knows no limits, and he's especially thankful for the agreement to take him out if necessary. It wouldn't be all too hard to read how much he hopes that never comes to pass from his expression.
Being out of control like that without anybody else steering...
He shifts on his feet, fidgets against the uncomfortable thought worms he's got to contend with now that he's cracked that lid open. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later, it's just harder to deal with so far removed from his usual support network.
Still, he's grateful that whatever forces at play deemed it possible for his path to cross with Palamedes. A solidly good choom, in V's opinion. ]
I'll try. [ To keep out of trouble, he means, but it seems a lot like trouble follows him around... ] If ya find anyone, tell 'em I'll work to pay 'em back if I need any kinda tune up.
And uh... thanks, Pal. 's good to know there's good people here.
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no subject
[ V's no ripperdoc - he can't explain the medical side of it all with much finesse - but he does understand the technology to a reasonable degree.
Palamedes' curiosity is honestly refreshing, it's been a while since anybody's looked at his cyberware as such a novelty. ]
Got a reinforced skeleton and subdermal armor too. Supports the framework well enough so I don't lose my arm.
[ In his line of work? It's very much needed, at times. ]
Got more cyberware inside that I do outside. Just gotta be careful I don't take it too far.
no subject
He takes a brief mental tangent through wondering who came up with these things and how involved the process is of getting a skeleton reinforced, or subdermal armor, ah, at all— is there reading material. Can he study some notes. Good god.]
Do you— I'm guessing at the term, overcharge? The limits of organic matter compared to synthetic must be a persistent concern even with precautionary measures taken. It's mind-blowing that your body has synced so completely with inorganic parts.
[And there's a slot in his head!!! It keeps getting wilder!!!!!! Palamedes holds up his hands, like, he's calm. He's not being weird.]
Sorry; is this too much?
no subject
Uh. Cyberware parts.
[ Well, and the rest but that wasn't what he meant and it's a great thing that he's not all that into being ashamed about his body, or embarrassed all that easy. Apparently entertained, he squeezes and then releases the man with a short, sharp, but gentle pat to the rounds of his shoulders. ]
Not overcharged. Got inbuilt ways to drain excess, though when they first started experimenting with usin' cyberware enhancements.... [ He makes a bzzzt sound, clearly no good things happened to the pioneers of the cyberware trade. ]
It's uh... somethin' called cyberpsychosis. Best way I can explain is... losin' touch with humanity. Or what makes people human. Link 'tween too much cyberware and cyberpsychosis is a thing where 'm from.
no subject
Where does the excess drain to, he wonders, and what does that look like— static? He knows what static is—]
For what it's worth, I don't like to strip things for parts, organic or otherwise. Even if they aren't being used anymore.
[Some necromancers see a body as free real estate, but he likes to think he's, hm, more ethical than that? The Sixth are too enamored of the body, some of the others from his world like to say— the point is, he doesn't go around desecrating bodies, a thing that feels super weird to say, but. Ahem.]
I have about a thousand more questions, but more immediately— This place isn't exactly on your level, is it? Are you going to be alright if something breaks?
cw: sorta touching on terminal illness a bit??
Somehow V really doesn't think so, and whatever second-hand paranoia he might've felt thanks to a certain long gone rockerboy-slash-brain-parasite, he's more than happy to take things at face value.
The man makes a good point regardless, and that chuckle on a breath out is less genuine amusement and more wistful now. ]
Long past my use by.
This ain't my first experience of a world that's not mine. 'cept last one had scientists that did somethin' to my brain, patched it up sorta, so...
Yeah, you're right. But at this point? No idea what's gonna give out first; cyberware or my head.
[ This all took a bit of a nosedive and V has the good grace to look apologetic. ]
Tried to find a medic when I first arrived. Just to uh... check this out.
[ He taps two flesh and bone fingers against his temple and then takes a breath in before finding something interesting to stare at on the wall. ]
Anyway....
no subject
He hums- put a pin in "ain't my first experience," he'll circle back- but good god, is nothing easy?]
Did you? Find a medic, that is. [He pauses, glances away to make a hasty purse-lipped decision, and looks back. Okay,] I'm not a doctor, but if it's only a... preliminary status update you need, I might be able to help with that.
[If that's odd to offer a stranger, well, they're already talking about un-patched brains and loitering in an abandoned house, so. That line has been well and truly passed. He holds up his hands idly, as if to say no pressure, really—]
I don't know what your necromancer specialized in, but I'm pretty good at, eh— let's call it analysis.
no subject
Figured since I didn't flatline yet... it can't be so bad, right?
[ He's hoping, he really is. Though at the offer of a status update, V can't and doesn't hold back the strangely anxiety-riddled relief that sweeps across his features. Somebody who might be able to tell him if he's two breaths away from calling it a day in a real permanent way. Maybe that 'cant be so bad' attitude is a small white lie. Or a big one. ]
I don't got anythin' to pay ya with, 'cept more 'I owe ya one's.
no subject
Are you sure you aren't a necromancer, yourself?
["I'm not dead yet so it's fine" is peak necromancer, trust him, he's heard it and said it enough times himself. He shakes his head lightly - never mind - and reaches for the satchel hanging at his hip, but ah-]
First, you don't have to pay me; you don't have to owe me, either, but if it makes you feel better, sure. I'll ask for a favor sometime. [a shrug! a favor like "wow push this heavy box for me, cool thanks," there are no rules.] Second, do you want to do this here? I can, but I know 'dusty hovel' isn't everyone's first choice.
akjsh sorry pal ur getting the no context dramatic details unfiltered XD
[ It's a Statement, sure, and he doesn't seem to recognize that for a long few seconds beyond not being particularly fussy about the dusty hovel surroundings. Eventually his brain catches up and yeah, he's talking to a necromancer but there's some deets lacking even he knows are owed. ]
Prob'ly got some context to fill in for ya, right?
[ Rubbing at the back of his neck, his fingertips eventually ghost bravely over the chipslots in his skull. How to explain his first death... ]
How 'bout we go to wherever feels good for ya, and I'll explain whatever you need me to?
KDFM he deserves it for being nosy
It was a locked room, for me. Give or take a few technical details.
[So there's that, he doesn't know what other way to smooth over the concept of dying-but-not-really other than to shrug about knowing those particular steps. Not his first rodeo, etc. He holds up a finger, then roots around in his satchel before pulling out what appears to be a small coil of copper wire, because it is. He picks a bit of dust off one of the ends, then holds it up.]
I can manage a rough diagnostic of your vitals with this, if you're willing. Whatever details you've got might help put together the rest, and— d'you know what psychometry is?
[..........OH, yes, the actual question: location, location, location.] I can work anywhere.
v is racking up a substantial iou debt to pal HE CAN LIVE WITH NOSY
First time he returned to life was with an uninvited visitor in his neural network riding his body shotgun. Second time he returned without him and not a day's gone by where he hasn't missed that asshole since.
But there's questions to focus on - probably important ones. ]
Short versions are: no, dunno what psychometry is. And I was dyin' 'cause my neural network was bein' taken over by an engram that wasn't mine for a while. Did more damage than I should've been able to live with when I--
[ Hmm. This bit's still difficult to say. ]
Got put back in my own body as an engram 'thout 'im. 'thout Johnny. 'cept my neural network was already rewired to be the right environment for his engram so mine was... alien to my own brain.
Last place I 'member bein', they stablized what was goin' on up there. Slowed down the rate o' rejection, guessin'. They never explained how and I didn't ask. No idea if that's still... workin'.
pal's list of iou cash-ins is just lifting boxes, anyway cw: sticking wires into skin
Instead, he works on unwinding some of the copper wire while V explains his - frankly insane situation, if only because Palamedes has seen the completely organic version of it before, he thinks? He'd never had time to ask about the mechanics of why a friend's memory was a royal mess and why another, separate friend appeared to be knocking about in her brain, but—
Huh. Very necromancer, indeed.]
An "engram" is a consciousness, I'm assuming? And your implanted technology altered the landscape, so to speak, to accommodate the interloper— that makes sense.
[Well. As much as anything of this nature would.]
The energy it takes to run two nervous systems at once is already overly taxing; two entire consciousnesses must take an astronomical amount of power. If you're stabilized, the only task left is undoing the work of the first rewrite.
[Super simple!! He could probably do this to a normal brain without Stuff in it, but that's for later. He holds the wire up, one end in each hand.]
This is for vitals; you won't notice a thing, but if we connect you to me with this, I'll be able to get a decent sweep of your body's overall status. You would have to break skin with it, though; I usually prefer using the soft part of the hand, here, [he pinches between thumb and forefinger, then holds out one end of the wire.]
Psychometry, on the other hand, is the ghost-within-the-thing. Sort of. Necromantic energies leave a trace, and if I can find that, I can get a read on the memories associated with it. It's— easier when the emotional connection is stronger. [And all of this thing, the touch-memory-magic, he mentions because,] It's not always voluntary; not mentioning it beforehand wouldn't be fair to your privacy.
[anyway stab this wire into your hand]
at this rate v will be pal's moving guy if he ever needs to move house hah cw: wire stabby in hand
Regardless, he's grateful. ]
I'll skip to the part where I tell ya what was prob'ly the most powerful megacorp in my world patented storin' digital copies - memories, thoughts, motivations, so... personality - o' rich people on their megaservers for a price.
And-- might've stole somethin' from 'em that had the engram of a dead rockerboy terrorist on it that ended up here.
[ He taps one of those chipslots he's got in his head; the one that has something in it. ]
Johnny's gone now, 's just me in here. [ Sometimes it still feels messed up he's alone now, fuck he misses Johnny. ] And last time this got yanked out, my whole personality shifted. Wasn't ideal. So, best I can tell, chip's now an integrated part of my neural network. Part that makes me not an asshole.
[ And that's a whole other story - one that's quite likely to crop up.
He's already reached up to accept that copper wire, and it's only because the other man mentions breaking skin specifically he doesn't try and engineer a way to use the port he's got on the inside of his wrist. So he presses the end of that wire into the very flesh, blood and bone part of his left hand and immediately looks up at Palamedes to check he's done it right. ]
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.]
cw: wire hand stuff but last one, mention of previous mugging
That half smile presses into something more serious as the results of whatever analysis Pal can do with that wire is shared. Considering up until this moment he had no idea if he was a step away from flatlining, the news is positive. The next breath out is filled with relief as he twists the wire from out of his hand and releases. ]
Maybe at some point explainin' how that [ he gestures at the wire ] works is somethin' ya could do for me, 'cause I'm curious as hell.
It's better than I was expectin', though. 'ppreciate that ya did that for me.
[ Which is just one more thing on a list of things that Palamedes has helped him with, he owes big time no matter what the other man insists. It makes asking the next thing harder, but it's got to be done. ]
I... we only just met, and so far I've not been helpful at all. You don't gotta say yeah, but right now you prob'ly got the best understandin' o' what I'm workin' with.
[ Which is to say... ]
Last place I was, this got pulled outta my head 'thout my consent.
[ He taps the relic tucked away into one of those chipslots. A nice way to say he was mugged for his hardware. ]
It should've killed me, havin' it removed like it was. 'cept my brain is a mess, like ya just saw, so it switched off any chance I had of bein'... decent. Best we figured is it disconnected the parts my brain needs to be empathetic.
[ He'll just let that sink in for a moment before: ]
I hurt a lot o' people I care about, and people I didn't even know. So... guess what 'm tryin' to ask is if ya see me actin' like a piece of shit, smack my ass to the ground and check my chipslot. If the chip ain't there, lock me the fuck up 'til it's found or leave me there if it's gone for good, 'cause I can't be trusted 'thout it. Only way to keep people safe.
no subject
And as he tucks the wire away again, as V makes his case for this big question of his, he raises an eyebrow, curious. The idea of anything being pulled out of a head - or any other body part - without consent is, hm, horrifying! Cyberware or not; that makes him grimace sympathetically, and...
'Smack my ass to the ground,' ha— if he gets to cheat with necromancy, maybe, otherwise he will merely be swatting uselessly at V's shoulder and going 'no!' He nods, says,] Sure, I can handle that.
[And then stops to think about how this is, probably, a thing normal people think about for more than five seconds, particularly when a near stranger with a very strange set of circumstances is asking. He thinks about this. He thinks, huh!, and he puts the thought away somewhere else; now that he's all but rooted around in V's skull, he's pretty sure they are at least friends, and obviously this is a normal friends thing to do.
It's the bit at the end there that gets him, 'keep people safe'— as if Palamedes could listen to a fundamentally good person entreat him to help and go eh, no thanks. Please.]
I know a few tricks that don't even need the wire; if I'm around, you'll be alright. Somebody around here has to know more about mixing organic and inorganic hardware. I'll ask around. In the meantime, keep out of trouble.
[Don't walk into any butterflies.]
And— don't worry about 'being helpful'.
no subject
Being out of control like that without anybody else steering...
He shifts on his feet, fidgets against the uncomfortable thought worms he's got to contend with now that he's cracked that lid open. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later, it's just harder to deal with so far removed from his usual support network.
Still, he's grateful that whatever forces at play deemed it possible for his path to cross with Palamedes. A solidly good choom, in V's opinion. ]
I'll try. [ To keep out of trouble, he means, but it seems a lot like trouble follows him around... ] If ya find anyone, tell 'em I'll work to pay 'em back if I need any kinda tune up.
And uh... thanks, Pal. 's good to know there's good people here.