worthallthis | IC Inbox: In the Night

Sometimes you gotta be clearer that you're exaggerating, with this guy, sorry Fjord. They nod, though, confusion clearing. "I'm gonna make you show me some time, see if you know ones I don't." Probably. The knots Soldat knows come from the military on Earth, which is not the same as a ship in a fantasy universe.

They uncap their own beer for a swig, then dig into their first sandwich. Lessons come after eating a little bit.

"Sounds like a plan." It'll be fun showing off some sailing knowledge again. He'll put his beer down as well, so he can take a sandwich too.

Funny how good everything always tasted after that sort of shit.

He's quiet for a moment as he chews on that thought, thinking back on the shit they went through. And their earlier conversation.

"With all due respect," he says eventually, instead of taking another bite. "D'you mind if I ask as to what you were referring to before with the, uh. Off switch?"

Due respect. Really. Soldat isn't really due respect. It's almost funny. Thankfully for everyone involved, they can't actually comment or look amused by that, because the rest is pretty grim. "That. Yeah. There's a specific hallucination they throw at me. The green-eyes. It hits, and my brain just stops. Everything stops."

Fjord respects the hell out of you, Soldat, you'd better get used to it.

But since Soldat doesn't extrapolate on it further, Fjord won't pry. "Explains why I saw you go limp when two of 'em grabbed you. You were putting up a hell of a fight 'til then, I got worried."

Too bad, Fjord, you're gonna get a little more detail. "Yeah. I'd hoped the Asset would get us through it, but." They shake their head, frowning unhappily. "The Chair gets even the Asset, I guess. Suppose it's not surprising. That's what it came from."

And sue him, he is curious. "The Chair... some kind of punishment, then?"

All anybody ever has to do is ask, really. "You know most of my memories are gone. That's how. The Chair. Stuff me in it, strap me down, the halo comes down, and-- and it channels a shit-ton of electricity into my brain." The plates in the metal arm ripple a little under their sleeve, and they pause to rub at one temple with the metal fingers, as if feeling the ghost of it. "Took everything away, start over, hard reboot." Not that a medieval character like Fjord will know what a hard reboot is. The rest ought to be clear enough.

Fjord's eyes flick down automatically at the fabric shifting, and a faint frown crosses his face.

"I can't imagine what that must've been like," he says, a touch softly. "I'm sorry they did that to you."

It's not an apology of claiming responsibility; he just hates that Soldat was forced to suffer that, to lose everything, no doubt multiple times. He wishes better for his friend. (He wonders if dying is a blessing in disguise for him, there.)

It kind of has been. Soldat shrugs, focusing back on their meal rather than their poor, abused head. "It's over now. Even getting the sensations of it here doesn't do more than shut me down for an hour or two. The memories are still there when I come to. First time it happened, I thought I was going to come back not remembering anybody." That was terrifying. The whole ordeal is still terrifying, but with it happening twice now, at least they know their memories are safe. From that, anyway.

IC Inbox: In the Night

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