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WHO: Drifter | Various
WHAT: Monthly Post
WHERE: Around Dualis and in the Swamp, More might be added
WHEN: January
WARNINGS: Probably violence and some food issues.

A.) IT'S NOT BRAIN SURGERY
CLOSED TO LORNA
DATED TO AFTER THIS

He's not happy to have learned what's in his head, and honestly? It's worth the risk. What if it kills him? He's got too many damn things in his head already. Does he want that big AI having access to any of 'em? Nah.

He's compared the Head to Rasputin before. Now, he puts a lotta stock into the endgoals of the warmind; more stock than he'd put into any real person. The thing wants to fight the darkness, and hell, it doesn't wanna get used by the Vanguard! Who wouldn't agree with that? And it reaches far and wide in its conflict, stretching its sattellite tipped fingers to the edges of their home system.

But the Warmind? When it decided to copy people, it was volunteers. People who donated their memories and way of thinking to create immortal warriors of a kind. Even there it one-upped the Head; when it saw it was losing the war, it let 'em all go to go do their own thing. Some of those 'exo's it made, robot copies? Became the greatest badasses that third rock from Sol had to offer.

But even then, catch Rasputin in a mood? Bust in on him where you're not wanted? And there's hell to pay. The Warmind stuffed some damn fool Iron Lords full of nanotech when they decided to breach one of his facilities and take weapons without asking. Personally, if you ask Drifter? Don't be a damn punk and think you're slick enough to fight a centuries old AI with a fist and an ax. Didn't work out too well for those Iron Lords.

Drifter doesn't much want to turn out like those poor fellas. Even if none of the voices in his head come along for the ride, even if his ghost refuses to get attached to some smartass just because it looks like him, he doesn't like the idea of his thoughts and memories just spilling out to where it doesn't belong. The moments he held little Yu through her dying breaths are just as much his as knowing how to access paralell universes. He doesn't want the Head to have either. He doesn't want the Head to puppet him to use that for himself.

So? How about a trial run he thinks. Rip that thing out, see if he comes back. Tell that pretty little thing with the shaved head if he makes it. See if she's willing to risk standing up to the pressure. Let his ghost scan some brains. That's the plan and it sounds good to him. Now to wait for his surgeon. On a rooftop. Best place to get a voluntary head injury.

B.) SWAMP MONSTER HUNTING
OTA
DATED EARLY IN THE MONTH

He'd heard about the swamp, but hadn't got to investigate much. Time for that to change. Out there were definitely parts he needed for additions to his weapons, and he was ready to go exploring and/or hunting.

He's back in his armor, big furry shoulder pads, leather(ish) chaps, thick belt with his hand cannon tucked into it and all. Somewhere between space traveller stereotype and old lone traveling warrior. Drifter's pretty good at wearing his business right upfront. He doesn't lie about what he is.

Can't be blamed for what people get themselves into.

Unfortunately, at the moment, getting themselves into something means they're gonna be marsh treading. And he needs the fangs off a man-eating swamp seal. Honestly, better than the alternatives. It could be gators. Could be boring, too, which is even worse. He's out in the swamp with a rented boat (that clerk, by the way, seemed keen on asking for insurance because he seemed to be pretty sure it wouldn't be coming back). There's some squishy ground to walk on, though, and he's abandoned the craft for the moment to travel that.

C.) SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
CLOSED TO NICK
DATED TO EARLY IN THE MONTH

He's been prepping and making weapons for the Heart for a couple of months now. And, to be honest, it isn't fair to the lady that's been kindly enough to introduce him to them that his focus has been mostly on them.

He shows up late at the bar, just when Nick's about to get off work, and slams his hands on the bar. This time wearing his Western fusion shtick, at least, not looking like a ratty space mechanic freak as he knows he damn well can.

"Come on, Darlin'. I wanna show you somethin'. No time like the present." And maybe he can tell her about the damn fool, if successful, thing that he did for himself.

D.) SO I HEARD THERE WAS A MAN WITH A FORGE
CLOSED TO SEIFER
DATED TO JUST AFTER NAPS

Drifter can generate his own heat and some minor transmatting. Honestly? Makes it a little easier to be a wanderer with his work. But generating ones own heat is exhausting. Work work work, all the time. It's drawining, and he has to wait a good ten, twenty minuted between big surges. He's about sick of that.

But, apparently, there's some fella with an actual forge out there. And Drifter? Needs a piece of that sweet action, thanks. He follows word of mouth in his own particular way (some shady deals, some strong-arming, some fair trades of 'useful' goods) until he finds the man and his forge.

He makes a pretty blatant show of not sneaking in. He just wants to be friends here, right? They got a lot they could do for one another. Who is ol' Drifter to pass up some alliances with potentially talented people. It could work out just fine for the both of 'em.

Trust.

But, he's gotta admit, this is a tad more mannequins than he's used to. Hell, last time he saw mannequins standing around in a deteriorating setting? They were target practice for Fallen. Spoilers: It didn't help 'em. He gets to the front door of the 'recycling center' and knocks... and thinks he hears a dog? Damn, now he doesn't even know if it's someone's pet or an actual person.

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"When we got here. The bastards put it in before we touched our feet to the floor."

Yeah, it pisses him off. "That's what's holdin' us back. These chips in our heads. So if you do me a favor and strip the thing out... well, believe me, Sister. I've went down a lotta painful ways. Now, I don't like hurtin'? But I think rippin' off this bandage is gonna be far better than the alternative.

"What's in our head? It's ours. But that thing's takin' it. To be honest I don't even give a damn about that thing copyin' me. Whatever, make me a double, it's your pain in the ass. But my life is mine." His secrets are his.

"Of course they did." The bitterness and spite in her voice is palatable to even people who don't know Lorna too well. It's a violation she's been through before and never wanted again, and yet here she is. This time it's even been taken up to a higher level.

"If your sure, I'll do it. You just tell me when. I don't suggest a countdown, just say go and I'll pull it out." Countdowns just built up anticipation and would make it hurt more. If they're doing this she just wants to yank it out and get it over with. And she's more than willing to do it, he's got the right idea. Their secrets and their lives are their own. She's not going to let anyone take that from her again.

"Right," he agrees, shaking out his hands and feet.

"Alright. Might take me a little bit to come back. So if I stay dead for about a half-minute or so it's 'cause this is a whole new universe and I ain't tried dyin' in it yet." He rolls his neck.

"Alright. Well. Gotta try to get it out before my heart finishes its last beat. Then I won't come back with it. Uh.... maybe hold onto it if you can. Don't know how good a shape it'll be in after crackin' through my skull, but maybe we can have people look into 'em."

Head tech isn't something he's fully figured out yet. He's definitely going to need some insights. Too bad he doesn't have the stuffy bird on Mercury to help him out. Egotistical as hell but smart enough to matter.

"Go."

Lorna didn't say anything further. There's no point is there? Nothing more to say with what they're trying to pull off. Instead she just lifts her hands up, calling the green mist around her hands and then she starts to feel around inside him again. It only takes a second for her to find it inside his head again and then she yanks. One clean and quick pull and it comes right out into the palm of her hands.

"Well, here it is. Shit," she says to nobody in particular. It's not like Drifter can hear. Probably. Oh shit what exactly have they done here?

"Drifter?" Now there's a hint of trepidation in her voice. Had they made the right call in doing this? It's not like she really thought about it before agreeing to rip a chip out of someone's head. She'd just gone with it and now...

Drifter's body takes a good few long moments to slump. Eyes wide at first, staring ahead, not truly looking but stuck open. And when it does, it just drops, a heap of scavenger on the ground.

A good five seconds later it evaporates.

It doesn't spring back to life there, no. The corpse just sort of puffs away like packed smoke.

There's a quiet whoosh behind Lorna, and Drifter's voice cuts back in. "Ah damn! That was a might worse than a headshot, you were right." He's behind her, and he's fine, and he's rubbing a perfectly intact place on his head like he's trying to get rid of a ghost of a sensation. He'll have to tell that girl.

"Now... I can have a look at yours. I don't think I can get it out without harmin' ya, but I show you how it's all fit in there. Maybe get you to a doc who can." He holds out his hand, and in it hovers a ghost with a red eye in the center. "You okay with 'im scannin' ya?"

He normally doesn't show this ghost to many people. The only proper 'guardian' to see it has been Osiris. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and they're gonna need these things out eventually.

An entire spectrum of emotions run through Lorna has she watches Drifter slump down and then evaporate. It's not like she's never seen someone die before. It's also not like she hasn't been the one to cause someone's death. Quite the opposite to both things actually. But, it's not precisely something she enjoys seeing or doing. There's still a bit of shock tied to it. Shock and some amount of fear that maybe he wasn't going to actually come back and instead she'd just murdered a man in a robot dystopia.

"Shit," she said again and then an even louder "Shit!" When the whoosh came behind her with Drifter's voice. "You're..." she blinks at him and then at the ghost and then stiffens her shoulders back. Not the weirdest thing she's seen, but it's up there. A lot of shit here is getting up there.

"Yeah, uh, scan away. What's it able to see?" She wants to ask how it's able to do that, but something tells her she wouldn't quite get it anyway. And did the how really matter? It worked and that means she's not gonna have to rip his robot him apart. Win-win.

"How do you feel with it out?"

"Oh, it sees everything, now. For some reason my brain was holdin' it back. I guess the connection was more important than I figured."

Drifter doesn't know what its limits are on hacking; give a ghost enough time, and they can figure out almost anything. But in this case it can still scan just fine.

The drone hovers away from Drifter's hand, and it's little parts almost form a quizzicle expression as it looks at her. Then a red light shines out of it, draws a pattern down her forehead and face. Once it's satisfied, it nods by bobbing in the air, and turns back to Drifter.

"Show us," he tells it.

It displays a large holographic representation of Lorna's brain in red patterns. It zooms in, highlighting the chip, creates blue little lines representing all the important little nerves that's connected to it.

"Hrm." He grunts. "They really did root these things in there. I don't feel much different with it out.
I guess that's why we don't know it's there."

Lorna visibly stiffens at the scan. Fight or flight kicks in but she manages to wrestle the feeling back. Drifter just had her rip out a chip from his head, it's highly unlikely he's going to fuck her over with his drone now. Trust doesn't come easy for her though, never has.

"Little weird." Is the only stiff comment she makes about the scan. Her face twists at the results of the scan.

"Thinking about how they must have gotten that in is makes my skin crawl." And probably isn't something anyone should think about too long. They'd have to do a lot of work on them while they're unconscious to get that thing so deep inside them. It's disturbing to think about, but it's even more disturbing to think about how hard it'd be to get it out without dying.

"I can't think of any way to get that out without," she gestures to him. "Without what happened to you happening. And not all of us have ways to come back."

"Could have teleported or transmatted it into us. Didn't even half to open us up, just fit it in there nice and neat, leave no marks, make sure we never got an inkling."

He grimaces at her.

"I apologize for not returnin' the favor, but these hands make weaponry. I ain't much of a doctor." Don't need to be when you heal from everything- or come back from dying of what you can't heal from. "But I saw they got people working on getting the chips out, or changin' 'em so they don't matter. I can give 'em this info and-"

He pauses, looks out over the city, and plants his hands on his head.

"...Aw, hell. No wonder ever'body sounded the damn same! I cain't read half these signs now."

He points some out to Lorna. Ones that were perfectly legible before now, but might as well be Egyptian heiroglyphs.

"That's not helping the paranoia." Sort of making it worse actually, that they'd be able to do that. "I mean then you go down the road of thinking if they teleported it inside once, what's to stop them from just doing it again at any moment?"

She folds her hands over her chest and then just shakes her head as a bitter little chuckle escapes. "Fits with their entire speech they give us in the beginning. They try to make us as comfortable as possible, guess that includes putting shit in us that makes us all able to understand the same language. Kind of funny how nobody seems to question how we all understand each other despite being from such different places." Funny and pathetic of all of them. They should have been more suspicious of that, especially after information about the chip got out. People should have been able to make the connection immediately that the chip probably allowed them to understand each other. It's the only logical conclusion to come to. Yet the desire to get this foreign object out of their body overrode their ability to think it out logically.

"Guess we need to look into a way to change the chips, not remove them directly. Unless we want communication to get even worse." She pauses for a second and then runs a hand through her hair. "I might be able to figure it out, but I'd have to experiment on someone with one." And where exactly would she get volunteers for that? Especially considering she has no idea what would happen to them.

"Maybe they needed us unconscious and holdin' still. Somethin' along those lines." Not that it helps the paranoia much, but throwing a chip out into the middle of a motion filled world was a lot harder on a city-wide basis than keeping someone still and putting it in, even if it were transmatted.

"I can figure this out, though," he says, rubbing his beard, looking out at the city. Right, right.

"Been doin' a lotta translatin' of alien languages in my time. For research." Drifter points to Lorna.

"Yeah, I can get these scans and work on a translator at the same time. I'll get the translator done pretty quick. It won't cover everythin', but it'll cover a lot. An' maybe by the time we finally get one of these out of a more sensitive person's head, we won't have to worry none."

He's sure the head will suspect if no one can understand each other.

"Who the shit knows what they need," frustration slips into her voice momentarily and she tries to dial it back. Losing herself to it isn't going to help anything, but that's not to say she doesn't want to. She wants to lash out at something so bad it's threatening to boil over but she's doing her best to wrestle it back.

"You're just full of ideas huh? Ideas and experience," she gives him an overly strained smirk. It's probably more than obvious that she's trying to make the situation less intense than actually is, mostly for her own sake. Dualis doesn't need an accidental power outage on top of everything because she lost her shit completely. She runs a hand through her hair and then sighs.

"Maybe I can start trying to figure some stuff out too. If I can get to know the feel of the chips better maybe I can just disable certain parts without having to actually get them out?" She shakes her head and lets out a tiny sigh. "Would need to experiment some first. Guess we both have assignments to get to work on then, huh?"

He supposes it only matters if they manage to put the chips back in. He sees the strain in that smirk, and he spreads his hands.

"Sister, I'm real old. You gotta get a hobby to pass the time. What can I say."

A power outage, though, could eventually be useful. That sort of thing should happen on a willing, fully cognizant basis.

"Sounds like you need a little bit to think on it. Don't worry, we gotta start workin'. But this is a heavy kinda thing. Take a moment. You got anger in ya? I say that's good. I say that's useful if you wrangle it up, make it yours. Bein' mad means you got the confidence to know how bad someone done you wrong."

"Everyone's gotta have a hobby," the smirk she gives that time is a little bit more honest and relaxed.

"Anger is nothing new to me," she speaks with a dripping sarcastic tone. Anger is something she's acutely familiar with actually, it's boiled inside of her since she was a little girl directing it all at her father. "Never been one to take bad being done to me sitting down. But I also don't want to make a situation worse again." She's done that enough back home for a lifetime.

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sorry!!! lost this

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