seasonsrpg | Wash Permanent Catch-All

[Wash has his priorities and his little sister is that. (And then also Wylan, but at least he was healthy, if having his own distress.) But wash also knew there was a certain point where fussing wasn't actually doing anything and she had several other babysitters to keep her from doing anything dumb.]

[And when his family isn't the priority...]

[Well, then Epsilon things were a priority.]

[He'll get the number from Donnie because he doesn't want Korone to potentially ask why and lie to her. (And Donnie, well, easy enough to just say he wants to ask something and he'll accept it. He's rather the same with money too honestly.)]

[He'll find some place quiet to talk, finally setting on an inn in Sunwaning. He doesn't want a place where they could be easily overheard, either by people they know because its a lot, or strangers because this is his own trauma and he likes his privacy damnit. Sunwaning inns were good because they had hot springs. And there was also Weapon Training HQ. He doesn't know what Macaque would need, but he figures the close mix of relaxation options, food, drink, or violence, ONE of them would work well enough.]

[He knows weapons can help him a lot and he may need it.]

[Once he has the room, he sends off the message with the address and room number.]

Bring any specific items that help soothe, comfort, or ground. Pets, objects, food, whatever.

[Wash? Well, Wash has Sunset, the kitten he showed up with.]

[Therapy cats are real.]

Edited 2024-02-27 04:49 (UTC)

I use shadow magic to teleport, so be ready for that in about three seconds. [ Most people don't get a warning you're welcome. ]

[ The shadows pool in one spot and ripple, and Macaque rises out of the darkness and into the room. His hands are empty. ]

Hey. How are things there?

[Honestly? He appreciates before he may have a cat, but he also has a bunch of knives hidden on his person and he does throw them when startled.]

A lot of tired kids. The biggest thing is making sure Choco stays down. I swear, she's worse than me about actually resting.

I'm pretty sure Donnie is installing more robot arms around the place.

[ Good luck hitting Macaque with any of those. ]

I understand her position. Being babied sucks, even if it's necessary.

But I'm glad for his robot arms all the same.

Its not being babied, its being looked after medically. There is very much a difference.

It is pretty cool to watch him go. He was stuck with just his mystic stuff in the Temple and low tech stuff. I knew he'd been itching to do more, he could only get that excitable about plants there.

[He picks up his drink from the table. He's got hot chocolate, but he also has the drink menu out.]

I'm sure you're right, and I'm sure she's still a bit frustrated.

[ Macaque nods along. ] He's great with that stuff. His robot hands bandaged my arm and they did a great job.

[ He peers at the hot chocolate and chuckles. ] Guess this explains part of why that stuff was all over her heart.

Hm, when she's lucid, but that's expected. The lucid parts are always the more frustrating.

He is, but I suppose that's expected when he uses them for hugs when he can't take being touched. Its kind of sweet.

[He shrugs and takes a sip.] She was a very straight laced seventeen year old and I don't drink alcohol, so you find other drinks to wind down with.

...the first time you drink, you'll want someone you trust with you. You don't have the physical injuries, but I've never seen Choco drink so I can't be sure what it'll do to you.

She'll even out. Just takes time. [ Macaque has no direct experience but he sure sounds confident. ]

He's good at accommodating for those moments. The non-speaking moments, too. [ Macaque is going to learn TSL for that but the chirping has been a good substitute. ]

I don't get drunk unless I drink a river or it's magic booze, and that stuff isn't an infinite supply. So don't worry too much.

Usually. It's really the question of how much time that gets tricky. [He has experience.]

He does.

I'd watch it for tipsy too. The dissociation can hit hard.

How much can you remember before it gets fuzzy?

Almost all of it. It's painful, not indistinct.

[ He's used to processing and remembering all the sounds of the world at once, so. ]

[Breathe in.]

[Breathe out.]

[Sets down the cup to hold the edge of the table.]

Allison?

[ Macaque watches him closely, even as the name makes something inside him twist. ]

Mmhmm.

Went deep.

Fuck. [He runs at his face. Reaches down to pet Sunset.]

All right.

So a bit of context. I was a soldier in the UNSC. We had been at war since I was born with an alien race that would only accept the genocide of the human race.

And only the genocide. No surrenders were ever accepted. The closest we got was distract them with something else they wanted, but it only ever bought time. They wanted us dead any cost save the destruction of those certain artifacts. They'd sacrifice planets to kill the humans on it.

We were very much losing the war.

So.

People got very desperate with plans which is why I agreed to a lot of the very questionable life choices.

[ Macaque listens closely. People get desperate in desperate circumstances, tale old as time. He's sympathetic, but won't let that lead the conversation. ]

The AI?

Yes.

[He turns his body a bit, enough where the back of his neck is partially visible as he tugs down the collar of his shirt.]

[There are a lot of old scars there. Specifically like he was trying to claw out the back of his neck. Along with three computer ports. Two filled and one empty.]

I don't know if you're familiar with AI as a concept, but they can think and calculate faster than a human. Seconds can be an eternity for them. They can plan things thoroughly in moments.

But communicating those plans to humans take time.

However.

Thoughts can go quite fast. If an AI can tap into them. Those perceived eternity seconds could be something a human understands and a plan can be provided instantly. As well as various other advantages. AIs don't forget. They can manipulate information the brain receives like pain. More complex equipment could be operated more smoothly. Things like that. Plus there's always a second opinion.

It wasn't a terrible idea, if you could accept the mental roommate.

[ Macaque looks at the neck of Wash's neck and stops himself from wincing. ]

The basics, yes. Nothing remotely that advanced.

And what was your reaction? [ He already knows some of it, but Wash deserves to tell his own story. ]

It wasn't my reaction.

It was Epsilon's. I didn't even get to greet him.

All the other fragments didn't have memories. Just the emotions. But Epsilon remembered. And he very specifically remembered...being told I was dead.

That the Alpha had gotten me killed.

And being put into the mind of a dead man, he realized everything that had happened. He could see from point A to point Washington.

[He looks distant, staring at the hot chocolate on the table.] Imagine the moment you realize you've been stabbing yourself in the back. Over and over again. Digging into everything you know is weak about yourself. Using that pain, all because a part of you was never able to let go of the love of your life, to never say good-bye.

[He takes a shuddering breath.] It was bad. It got worse. I had a short while with Epsilon. I don't know how much of the memory Choco really retains, but I was operating with him a few weeks. Trying to keep him together. I had always been very good at compartmentalizing trauma, trying to help him focus, but with the realization of the betrayal, we could look at everything the Project was doing at the time and realize just how far off the rails the Director had become. The fragments, the agents, the missions, everything had become a fucked up experiment. Trying to craft the perfect soldier, never understanding that there is no singular perfect soldier.

I knew we had to be patient.

Epsilon could not...do patience.

[ All because a part of you was never able to let go of the love of your life, to never say good-bye. ]

[ Macaque's voice is soft when he replies: ] I don't have to imagine.

What did he do with his impatience?

[ Macaque can already guess. You tear yourself apart. Or make holes in your brain. ]

Killed himself.

[Utter dead tone.]

[ A long, slow exhale is all he can do. Just feeling the weight of that, and adding nothing as he waits for Wash to continue. ]

.....AIs are computers. They're made of numbers.

There is no shooting yourself in the head as an AI. You have to get rid of the data. Either by destroying the hardware itself.

I was in hospital restraints by then.

Or shredding the data into utter nonsense into whatever other system you can.

There was only one other system.

[ ...Gods, Wash. ]

I imagine that system is you. Your head.

[ There is no shooting yourself in the head as an AI. You have to get rid of the data. That will ring in his head in the next few days. There's no getting rid of [this thing in your head], only shredding. ]

Yes.

It was lucky, in a way. I got Epsilon by chance. I was originally slated for Iota. But some...drama happened that got me bumped down the list.

I say lucky in that I loved my teammates.

And I was probably the only one with the right fucked up head to survive what happened.

When you share a head with someone, it can be very hard to track what wants are your own. What anything is your own.

[ Another slow breath. Lucky, he says. But Macaque can understand the "better me than anyone else" thought. MK has it all the time. ]

I've been noticing that. Mostly when my guard is down, like I'm sleeping. I'll wake up talking about things I don't remember, and yet I do.

[ "Talking" here meaning screaming. ]

'Talking.' Nice way to put it. [There is some dryness there. He knows its screaming.]

[Its either screaming or crying.]

Epsilon had the memories of surviving the torture. Splitting parts of himself away so the Alpha could keep making the next step. Those parts were removed to make the fragments. Love, logic, rage, trust, so on.

I'd always been... [He paused.] Not quite multiple personalities, but something within that realm. I was either born with it, or it was the early childhood trauma, I couldn't say, I just know when I first really used it. Never got diagnosed. It made things easier usually if people didn't know.

Like Alpha did to survive, I was used to separating aspects of my personality into different mindsets. So even when Epsilon exploded, I could still figure out enough to take pieces and shove them into places where they would do the least amount of damage.

[He laughs sardonically.] I was still dealing with an explosion, but I could at least hold some sheet metal over my heart.

Choco didn't used to have those divides in herself. That was because of me.

Talk of torture, suicidal ideation, and unreality

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