obeir | WTL Inbox

[ Right, House is apparently a doctor as well — easy to forget that. K can't imagine ever going to him for help with anything. Dr. Strange he isn't sure of either; he's been abrasive too, in a different way. Why are all human doctors like this? ]

My tracking implant. Maybe. [ The one he'd briefly mentioned before, that Renart's encouraged him to have the doctors here remove for him. Except he's mostly sure it's somewhere in the vicinity of his brainstem, and he hardly wants anyone poking around the area. Maybe not even Zephyr. ]

And when Zephyr first brought me here I was recovering from a skull fracture. [ Courtesy of the RK900. He tries not to think about that part. ] I've had chronic headaches ever since. I'm not sure they're related... but maybe it wouldn't hurt to confirm it healed properly.

[ If he felt he could trust any of the doctors, that is. ]

[ !!! ]

You were recovering from a skull fracture? [ Excuse you. Royce forgets about the piano for a second. ] I know nothing about medicine, but the chronic headaches are likely not a coincidence. [ He watches K for a long moment. ] Would you feel more at ease with any doctors if I accompanied you? I can make sure they don't try anything.

[ It's a bit more complicated than that; he's convinced the headaches are psychosomatic. But how to explain that to someone who's probably never heard the term? ]

I don't think the headaches are caused by something physical. They're worse when I act contrary to my programming. Ignoring the compulsion to help humans, to obey. After changing Madame's directives to give her free will... [ That had been a particularly bad one, but well worth it. Royce's offer is met with a surprised look quickly followed by an amused smile. ] You don't trust them either?

[ It would make him feel better not having to deal with any of the doctors alone, which is sort of embarrassing to admit. ]

[ Oh. Huh. He guesses that makes sense... but still. ]

You should still make sure the fracture didn't do anything permanent. [ Royce says, a bit fussily. And then, as far as doctors go: ] I don't like doctors in general. I don't like being poked at and I don't always trust them to be completely unbiased, because people rarely are.

[ A beat. Sourly, admitting this like he doesn't want to: ] Granted, I've been poisoned by several in the past. So perhaps I am not unbiased, either.

[ K's experience with doctors thus far has been largely dehumanising, between the procedures performed on him without his consent (because consent is for people, not things), and his handler stating she was only allowing him proper medical treatment because it was cheaper than replacing him.

So Royce isn't the only one who's biased. And the Meadous doctors haven't exactly inspired much faith. The glimpse into Royce's experience has K frowning and giving him a concerned look of his own. ] To what end? Was that in Norfinbury?

[ Because it might make a twisted kind of sense then, with everything else he knows about the place. ]

No. In Elan. Because I lived a very dangerous sort of life and medicine was nothing like it is here.

[ Sniff. He glances back down at the piano. ] Well - it was only in Elan unless you count the nanomachines as something a doctor put into me, which I don't normally.

[ Oh. Medieval level medicine, presumably. Poor Royce; he's probably lucky to have survived it. Especially when he doesn't seem to have the stereotypical sort of Elven super-constitution, going by what happened on the space station.

And just the thought of it has K looking vaguely uncomfortable. It's still such an unpleasantly vivid sense-memory for him, that has indeed been haunting his sleep just as he'd suspected it would. ]

What did those do? If you don't mind my asking. I think I've only heard them referenced indirectly before.

[ He does not have Elven super-constitution, which he finds incredibly annoying every time he thinks about it. He's not sure if it's because he's a half elf or because his universe is just different than everybody else's, but it sucks. ]

They're supposed to keep the radiation at bay. Norfinbury was filled with it - if we didn't have the nanomachines, we would've slowly and painfully died. [ Sigh. ] They stopped working here and there. I never want to experience radiation poisoning again.

[ K nods in understanding; he's seen the effects of radiation poisoning. ] It's nasty stuff. The world I'm from has dead-zones of radiation from nuclear bombs. The global climate's ruined. It's why the humans who can afford it move to off-world colonies. Some androids, too. As slave labour.

[ Of course. Android slave labour is how the colonies even exist in the first place.

The way Royce talks about the nanomachines has him curious. Because it sounds as though they're still active. ] You haven't asked Zephyr to remove the nanomachines?

[ He bristles at the sound of slave labor, but he doesn't say anything, just scowls. The more K tells him about his home world the more Royce hates it. ]

No. I haven't. Never got around to it, and I don't know if they're still keeping me together. [ He went through a lot of abuse in Norfinbury - he's not sure what damage remains that he hasn't seen, yet. ] They might be keeping the radiation at bay.

[ Pulling the stack of sheet music closer, K settles a bit more comfortably against the back of the couch and begins labelling the notes in preparation for future lessons. Keeping his hands busy helps prevent him from sinking too far into his own troubled thoughts. ]

You don't worry that they could be doing other things to you besides that? [ Such as poisoning Royce in a different way. K glances at him with a questioning look. ] Manipulating neurons. Influencing thoughts...

[ It's probably well within the capabilities of such technology. ]

[ Royce shifts uncomfortably. ]

Mm. I do worry about that. I have no way of knowing. [ He should wish them away, he just. He doesn't want to have to go through the sickness again. He doesn't like to think of what that might do to his already sometimes-shaky grasp on his PTSD. ]

[ Similar to why K hasn't wished his obedience away yet — too many unknowns, and what he feels is a high probability of something going wrong. What's to say he wouldn't immediately murder every human in the vicinity the way unstable replicants always seem to? But he's still hoping to overcome the limitations of his programming on his own. The nanomachines presumably aren't something that can really be overcome in the same way. ]

Maybe Zephyr could help with the poisoning if it becomes an issue.

[ Post-nanomachine removal, he means. He falls quiet for a few moments as he resumes labelling the notes. Then, without looking up: ] I found a bio-scanner on the Libra Station. Kept it.

[ Surprise, K's an unrepentant thief. He also acquired dog figurines for Connor from the station. His coat originally belonged to another android. Even the piano Royce is playing was stolen. Of course, the prior owners of all of the above were already dead. ]

It's designed for human physiology, to diagnose injuries and illnesses. But it might work on you. If you ever want to use it.

[ Funnily enough, Royce worries for the same reasons as K. What if he gets rid of the nanomachines and he dies? What if Zephyr can't reconstruct him the same way because the nanomachines are part of his being, now? And then there's the whole panic of being reconstructed which he doesn't want to think about. Tense, he turns to look back at the piano, resisting the urge to pull his hood up.

K is observant. He's already going to know there's something wrong, he doesn't need to give him any more clues. ]

Yeah. [ Royce says, voice tight. ] Maybe it will. I wouldn't know how to interpret what it says, but I'm sure it'd have some sort of useful information.

[ He goes back to practicing, but he's distracted and plays far more wrong notes than right ones. ]

I've been figuring it out. I thought it might be useful for the clinic here.

[ K's been well aware of Royce's growing discomfort, but since he hasn't been told to drop the subject — well. He's still learning the very Royce-specific nuances in tone and body language, and doesn't know if this is the sort of discomfort that means it's time to stop, or if pushing past the discomfort and continuing to talk about it will ultimately help him.

The more frequent, glaring mistakes in Royce's playing make him wince though. And he can only take so much before he's setting the sheet music aside and getting up to wander back over. ]

Would you like something besides the coffee? [ Like something alcoholic. ] Have you already eaten?

[ When in doubt, offer food. He's still curious about the nanomachines and Royce's experiences in Norfinbury, in particular that flashback he seemed to have on the Libra Station... but also doesn't want to inadvertently chase him off. ]

[ He stops playing, bringing his hands to his lap and his feet up off the ground. He sits cross-legged on the bench and stares down at the keys. ]

No, I haven't eaten. [ He sighs out. He's not to the point where he's shutting off, at least - it's just difficult to talk about. ] I should. Coffee on an empty stomach tends to turn it.

[ He rubs absently at his fingers - specifically the joints that connect his fingers to his hands. ]

[ K's about to jokingly chide him about stopping, but the odd way he's rubbing at his fingers stops him short. He doesn't stare, though, just continues past Royce and heads into the kitchen that's connected to the main room. ]

Good time to take a break. Are your hands bothering you? [ He asks it conversationally, trying to make it sound like an offhand comment. Not wanting his concern to become a burden, the way he usually feels like it is for the people he considers his friends here. Even Connor has trouble accepting his concern and letting himself be taken care of. ]

[ He startles slightly, and looks down - he didn't realize he was doing it. He doesn't seem bothered by the concern at least, just a little thrown. ]

I - no. Well. [ He hesitates. ] No, they're not physically bothering me. They're fine. It's a Norfinbury memory thing.

[ He leaves it vague not because he doesn't want to tell, but because often times he doesn't know how much people want to hear. You wear your truama like a badge of honor still haunts him, sometimes. ]

[ As he'd expected. He frowns to himself. ]

One of those more recent memories? [ It's a gentle sort of prying. Whether he asks for specifics will depend on Royce's reaction.

There's the sound of running water as he washes his hands, followed by a quiet clatter of dishes and such as he begins collecting ingredients for a simple stir-fry. Vegetables, some quick-cooking meat, garlic... ]

Yeah. One of the more violent ones. [ A beat. ] You don't have to make something from scratch.

[ He pulls himself up to stand. ] Or if you're going to, at least let me help.

No leftovers, and I like to think my cooking's gotten better than the various food tree offerings. [ He says lightly, giving Royce a look. Because turning down his offer is tantamount to insulting his cooking, of course. ]

There isn't much that needs to be done for this. Mainly cutting and stirring. [ He elaborates as he arranges the vegetables and some bowls on the counter. But he isn't going to let the topic stay on food, not if there's a chance Royce might actually want to talk more about his memories. ] What happened to you? If you— want to talk about it.

[ Royce huffs a little - it feels rude to make K cook something for him, like he's asking too much as a guest. But he doesn't argue. He folds his arms instead, and looks away. Direct questions are the best way to get him to answer. ]

We were put in a tower. Some of us were kept in cages. Others were in charge of torturing those in the cages. The person in charge of my torture cut my fingers off, one by one, from the base. Cut out my tongue. [ His voice is steady, but only just barely. He's clenching his fists really hard. ] We were kept in the tower for something like four days. Couldn't remember who I was by the end of it.

[ He sits back down, taking a deep breath. ]

[ Shit. Now he's glad he didn't ask Royce to do any of the cutting for him. He also subtly stands in such a way that he's blocking Royce's view of what he's doing, when he slices up the meat and vegetables — just in case. Talking about it is surely hard enough without also being subjected to visual stimulus that might bother him. ]

As an experiment? [ It's a guess based on what he knows about Norfinbury. The disgust is clear in his voice. ] They did that to you and then— healed you? [ Or possibly he died and was brought back, since that's apparently par for the course with that place. ]

[ He's okay with the knife - it was scissors that Al used. But he appreciates the care, closing his eyes and bringing his feet back up on the piano bench. ]

As a lesson. [ He says quietly. ] The ghosts of cultists wanted to convert us. But we woke up one morning and we could walk, and we escaped. I think it was... Andromeda that helped us. I don't remember. It's a blur.

We were healed. Left scars, though.

[ Cultists. He remembers hearing about them, vaguely. There's still a lot about Norfinbury he doesn't know the specifics of, probably. ]

Who was Andromeda? [ Eve was the administrator, he knows that much. And Winter was another AI. It's likely he's heard about Andromeda indirectly before and just not by name. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: reference to finger mutilation, tongue mutilation, torture

cw: reference to finger mutilation, tongue mutilation, torture

cw: reference to finger mutilation, tongue mutilation, torture

cw: reference to finger mutilation, tongue mutilation, torture