jack // sisterSwitch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sisterswitch) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eyemind2021-04-28 10:32 pm
sisterswitch) wrote in eyemind2021-04-28 10:32 pm
audio } un: panoptes
[hey look, it’s jack. on a video feed, which is pretty unusual, come to think of it? she’s set up at a table in the kitchen, frowning in concentration as she gathers her thoughts.]
Where I’m from, people like to say that the definition of insanity is doing something over and over and expecting a different result. I will be pretty mad if it turns out I’m insane for doing this again, because last time I made this offer, I sorta got my head ripped off. Not literally, although I’m sure some of those jackasses would’ve done it literally, if they’d been able to find me. Too bad Jane’s not here anymore, she could tell you all about it.
[and jack rolls her eyes, because yes, she’s still holding a little bit of a grudge about all of that. the expression is short-lived, however - she shakes it off and continues:]
Anyway, remember that weird stalkergram video we saw the other day? That wasn’t some performance art piece. I know who sent it. See, before I ended up here, I spent a few years in a city called Dualis - real neon hellscape, right out of all of those cyberpunk movies you know and love. It was run by a self-aware AI called Mindseye, and Mindseye had this bad habit of killing literally everyone in the city, and not in the Skynet “drop a nuclear bomb on everyone” kind of way. This thing wiped out the entire population it was created for with a virus, and then started kidnapping people from their own worlds so it could study them and make robot copies of them. Murmur was there too, so ask him if you don’t believe me.
[sorry angel frand, you’re apparently a more trustworthy adult authority figure compared to jack.]
Back during that weird time when we were all wandering into each other’s dreams, there was this one dream about some things that happened in Dualis, and I couldn’t figure out where it came from. I thought maybe it was some kind of mental transfer from one of us who’d been there, but it wasn’t from a person’s perspective - it was Mindseye’s memory of what happened. That’s what Mindseye was talking about when it said we were all connected. Oh - right, I should’ve mentioned - Mindseye escaped from Dualis. Uploaded itself right into all of those robot bodies it built and skipped town. And it sounds like it landed somewhere in this part of the final frontier.
[and that’s worrying! for obvious reasons!!]
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not keen on being hunted throughout space by a homicidal AI. Now, I was able to fly under the radar in Dualis because of this tattoo I have. It’s a sigil I created for making myself invisible to surveillance - long story short, I’m a witch, I used to do a lot of meatspace activism when I was in college, and getting arrested isn’t anywhere near as fun as it looks on TV. Fool me once, et cetera. Point is, the sigil is magick, and it works, and I am willing to share, but I’m asking to trade something for it. Nothing big like a firstborn child - just a story. I want to hear about a time you did something unjust and got away with it. That’s all. That’s the offer, and you can certainly refuse it, but I’d take it as a personal kindness if you’d not be a dick about it.
[aaaaaand that’s all, folks!]
Where I’m from, people like to say that the definition of insanity is doing something over and over and expecting a different result. I will be pretty mad if it turns out I’m insane for doing this again, because last time I made this offer, I sorta got my head ripped off. Not literally, although I’m sure some of those jackasses would’ve done it literally, if they’d been able to find me. Too bad Jane’s not here anymore, she could tell you all about it.
[and jack rolls her eyes, because yes, she’s still holding a little bit of a grudge about all of that. the expression is short-lived, however - she shakes it off and continues:]
Anyway, remember that weird stalkergram video we saw the other day? That wasn’t some performance art piece. I know who sent it. See, before I ended up here, I spent a few years in a city called Dualis - real neon hellscape, right out of all of those cyberpunk movies you know and love. It was run by a self-aware AI called Mindseye, and Mindseye had this bad habit of killing literally everyone in the city, and not in the Skynet “drop a nuclear bomb on everyone” kind of way. This thing wiped out the entire population it was created for with a virus, and then started kidnapping people from their own worlds so it could study them and make robot copies of them. Murmur was there too, so ask him if you don’t believe me.
[sorry angel frand, you’re apparently a more trustworthy adult authority figure compared to jack.]
Back during that weird time when we were all wandering into each other’s dreams, there was this one dream about some things that happened in Dualis, and I couldn’t figure out where it came from. I thought maybe it was some kind of mental transfer from one of us who’d been there, but it wasn’t from a person’s perspective - it was Mindseye’s memory of what happened. That’s what Mindseye was talking about when it said we were all connected. Oh - right, I should’ve mentioned - Mindseye escaped from Dualis. Uploaded itself right into all of those robot bodies it built and skipped town. And it sounds like it landed somewhere in this part of the final frontier.
[and that’s worrying! for obvious reasons!!]
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not keen on being hunted throughout space by a homicidal AI. Now, I was able to fly under the radar in Dualis because of this tattoo I have. It’s a sigil I created for making myself invisible to surveillance - long story short, I’m a witch, I used to do a lot of meatspace activism when I was in college, and getting arrested isn’t anywhere near as fun as it looks on TV. Fool me once, et cetera. Point is, the sigil is magick, and it works, and I am willing to share, but I’m asking to trade something for it. Nothing big like a firstborn child - just a story. I want to hear about a time you did something unjust and got away with it. That’s all. That’s the offer, and you can certainly refuse it, but I’d take it as a personal kindness if you’d not be a dick about it.
[aaaaaand that’s all, folks!]
no subject
I don't think it's a bad thing at all. [she shrugs.] But humans might say otherwise - and do, usually, be it with words or a well-executed genocide.
[she gets quiet for a moment and stares into her tea.]
Even before I knew what I was, I never fit in. Something about me was just too different, too weird. It was actually a relief to learn why I was different, why I always felt out of place. At least then I didn't feel like I needed to work so hard at pretending to be one of them.
[better to be lonely and authentic than a fake.]
no subject
But, Murmur's not going to force her to spill her guts right now. Just keep rubbing in that he doesn't believe her 'I don't need nuthin' and nobody' act.
However, she does offer up a solid point. One as depressing as it is true.]
Yes... they are remarkably adept at that. Something I have always found peculiar, given that none of them fit the boxes they prescribe.
[Really, it's wild. At least angels, for all their flaws, do in fact sit very neatly in their boxes as they are so designed. Humans, beautiful and varied as they are, really think they want to be angels. Well... most angels fit neatly into their boxes anyway.
Murmur offered over something of a sad smirk.]
Something you and I share in common. I never quite fit in among my brethren, either. An academic among warriors, you can imagine we rarely had much in common.
[He'd been alone for a very long time, he understands.]
no subject
[she gets quiet for a moment, imagining what it might've been like for murmur to be so different from the others. he has existed for far longer than she has been alive, after all. what a lonely existence he must've had.]
I guess we outcasts have to stick together, huh?
no subject
Not that Murmur minded how cold he'd become. One couldn't argue the value in a long winter's rest.
He offered her a faint smile, warmer than his usual ones. He did, after all, care a lot about this monster who insisted she didn't care at all.]
Yes, we do. Who else would ever understand us?
[Actually, that reminded him. He perked up.]
Come to think of it, I had something I wanted to give you.
no subject
no subject
[His wings flared out from the nowhere that he kept them and he went to work searching one for the perfect feather. Not too large as to be suspicious or unwieldly to carry, and not so small as to become easily damaged or lost. Once he found a suitable specimen he plucked it, offering the faintly glittery blue-gray feather out to her.]
Should we find ourselves separated by great distances again, this can help guide me back to you.