Jack Pine
Well-Known Member
YSS-Kaiyō II/ Medbay......
Mark took a long walk, trying to straighten his thoughts. There were people he needed to talk to, and he did not look forward to any of the conversations that were going to happen. His hands shook, and staying focused on things was getting harder. Damnit, he needed to see Sacre.
It wouldn't take him long to get there, and it's usually where he found her. Hopefully she was there this time. She was one of the few people he called friend, even if she didn't see it that way. He walked in his worry showing a little despite trying to be calm.
"Hey, Sacre, I was hoping to talk to you," Mark said just coming through the door so she would here him enter.
Sacre was warming herself under the movable sunlamp at the desk. "I always have time for machoists." She said sardonically. She probably shouldn't have said that, she was trying to be less of a bitch, but the crew made it so hard at times.
Mark actually wanted to laugh at that, but given the circumstances, that might be inappropriate. He just tried to hide his hands as he took a calmer pace to his walk, "Yeah, Yeah......I guess so. How are you and gravity doing?" Mark said this with not as much enthusiasm as he attempted, and he said the rest quietly.
"Honestly, it's been holding me down. However, I haven't fell recently, so I suppose we are on good terms." Sacre answered seriously, trolling Mark.
"Good, good. Good, nice to see you two having fun. How was the festival? Couple people said you were acting odd before we left. Everything alright?"
Sacre paused, not sure how to touch on the issue. "Ven was there, heading for us. Gravity saw her, but we were kinda busy, picking you up. I don't know how to tell Gravity about her."
"Hmm, odd. Why would she be there? What was she doing?," Mark asked the fact that someone close, or had been, was.nearby at the festival.
"I have the same questions. I've been looking at the news reports and no one has died with her MO. I don't know what to make of that. In some ways, it is more frightening. I told Sanssina about it, but she has to finish a bounty before checking it out."
"Think she's working for someone?," Mark asked, thinking if she hadn't killed, Maybe it was because she was being kept in check.
"Possibly? Ven has killed while she was working with others. Especially if she thinks the target deserves it. She can go silent for a while if she doesn't want to alert her target. Most of the times when she's gone silent it has resulted in her coming out of the silence in a roaring rampage of violence against someone or an organization or whatnot." Sacre suggested.
"Well she isn't working with psychopomp, and she's not working for the USO. There are few other groups around willing to hire her. Hmmm, for some reason I find that troubling, and I'm unsure why. Oh well, little that can be done about it....for now. Chlorate tells me I apparently have a granddaughter now. There was a 18 year old girl at the VIP area as an S6 rep. With black hair and red eyes. The fact she is 18, and with those exact traits, means she has to be his child," Mark said interested in this development, and what it may hint at on both accounts.
Sacre didn't follow, "Why's that?" She asked.
"Because Lazarus has black hair and red eyes, none of my adopted children had those traits, and my natural children are only infants. It's not hard to deduce who's child it is. But why is she representing my group, when Jack despises him? Her agave is odd too."
Sacre's own knowlage didn't extend that far. She hadn't been in the VIP area, except for a few moments picking everyone up. "Lazarus wouldn't care about his own child. Jack may have taken her as his own roughly for that exact reason. she may have as much against her 'father' as he does." She suggested.
"Yeah but just the idea that he had a child. Whatever I guess, not like that will matter any longer....."
"I hate to break it to you, but Lazarus got laid. I scincerely hope the reason that it doesn't matter is because Lazurus suffered a laz-5 'accident.''" Sacre replied.
"I have way of knowing whether he has, or not. As much as I would hope it would happen, he isn't the one dying," Mark said his shaking hand now resting at his side.
Sacre's eyes followed his shaking hand. "and you are here to fix that."
"Only if the fix were so simple. No, I'm here to have it monitored, need to know how much time....I have left. The cure is not here, but there is one. It was so close at the festival, then my own double had to pull the break. I'm dying sacre, Orias is eating away at my mind," Mark said with a clear hesitation, and look that said he had doubt about how things would end.
"Of all of the boneheaded!" Sacre cut herself off before she got too excited. She took a breath. "So what is the cure?" She asked, trying to gauge how to address the situation.
"In short. Strapping me to a chair in a coma like state, downloading Orias to a AI core via Geist, and all run by someone who can operate a Geist who isn't me."
"So how do I operate a Geist?" was Sacre's instant reply. She was talking medicine now. Healing a member of her crew, there was a intense passion there.
"You have to have one implanted first, or be very knowledged in its systems. And implantation is either done to a preST body, otherwise it's extremely painful. It takes a while to train one in operation of it, time varying from person to person. There are only 7 in existence currently counting mine." Mark knew she wanted to help, but he didn't think she understood just what she was asking.
"Ok, lets get it done. If we can't get one of the people with one here, then we'll implant one in me so I can do it." Sacre said firmly. If it was going to help Mark, she would do it. Sure it might hurt, but it would just be one more pain that she would carry to her grave with her.
"......Sacre..No...I will not do that to you. What you're asking for is a pain that will haunt you the rest of your life. I know, I was the first, or Mark was. That is why preSTed is now mandatory for the procedure. I will not do that to you, I will not cause you that pain. Not you, or any of the crew, I would never hurt those I care about. Not to save my own life, do not ask that of me," Mark said with the pain at such a thought caused.
Sacre was quiet for a moment. However, it was not the silence of someone rethinking their course of action. It was that of one who needed to explain why she was willing to do what she was willing to do. "Mark, I'm already in pain. It's a pain that I'm not sure I can explain. Sure, there are the scars, and they ache and flare into something that seems unbarable sometimes. However, there are deeper scars, the ones on my mind. They make me, well unpleasent to be around. Make me hurt people that I actually like. However, those are not the deepest ones, the one that can't be cured or go away. The one that tore my soul in two. That's a pain nothing can match. One day I'll die, and the pain will finally be over. One more pain is a light burden to carry. Saving a friend is a great joy to have and hold onto." Sacre explained.
Mark shook his head, giving a humorless chuckle at himself as a few tears escaped his eyes. He moved his shaking hand to hold his arm as he spoke this time, with a sad voice he said, "You know, I wasn't always a nice person. I'm sure I told you that, but at one point I was much like Lazarus. No,....I was worse. I've hurt and murdered people, under order, but I never questioned. Every pull of the trigger was just another target dead. It took the death of those that were the closest thing to family to be the slap in the face that woke me up. To realize what I had done with what remained of friends caked across my body. I don't sleep anymore, because every time I close my eyes they all are there waiting. Even when I'm awake, I see them there in the corner, behind Windows, and in doorways. I made a promise to be better, that I wouldn't hurt those close to me again. Please, don't make me break that promise."
Sacre nodded understanding, "I have my promises to the ghosts of my past too. I wasn't always a complete bitch like I am now. It was right after I joined the army and shipped out to my first unit. Once they understood my boundaries, they became my friends. Then in the course of a single battle, most of them died in my arms as I was frantically working on them. I made a promise that day to do anything to save one of my comrades. Whatever it takes. Right now, it looks like it might take getting a geist. So be it. You won't be hurting me unless you make me break my promise."
Mark looked conflicted for a minute, "Fine, but on one condition."
"What?" Sacre asked, not making any promises.
"I get to fucken hug you. This will still have to be cleared so I can fabricate a implant, and I'll have to program a surgery. I will be there the whole time.With you, gravity can too if you think it will help."
"Is this to win that stupid betting pool that's been going around?" Sacre asked.
"Wait? There's a betting pool? No, I actually just wanted to hug you. This means a lot and I wanted to show it. Besides you always look like you need one.", Mark said genuinely surprised.
"Fine. One hug." Sacre said, coming around the desk.
Mark waited till she was around the desk, then wrapped his arms around her. He was careful to not touch her with the tips of his clawed fingers of his right arm, and gave a gentle squeeze before letting go after a moment, "Again, thank you. I promise to not ask for hugs anymore."
Sacre was doing her best to not freak out. It felt so confining, so horrible. However, for once she felt strong enough to battle against it. She was doing this to save his life. If he only got one hug, it should probably be a good one. So Sacre slid downwards and wrapped her long arms around him as well and held him against her chest. Her fingers gently scrached Mark's back, finding and relieving what tension they found. He could feel Vera pressing against his collar. Then the magical moment was over and the two stood apart again.
"Alright, so as mentioned. I'll have to get the fabrication of a Geist approved. I'll need your help with that, to explain why it's needed. The sooner the better, it's a race against the clock here."
Mark took a long walk, trying to straighten his thoughts. There were people he needed to talk to, and he did not look forward to any of the conversations that were going to happen. His hands shook, and staying focused on things was getting harder. Damnit, he needed to see Sacre.
It wouldn't take him long to get there, and it's usually where he found her. Hopefully she was there this time. She was one of the few people he called friend, even if she didn't see it that way. He walked in his worry showing a little despite trying to be calm.
"Hey, Sacre, I was hoping to talk to you," Mark said just coming through the door so she would here him enter.
Sacre was warming herself under the movable sunlamp at the desk. "I always have time for machoists." She said sardonically. She probably shouldn't have said that, she was trying to be less of a bitch, but the crew made it so hard at times.
Mark actually wanted to laugh at that, but given the circumstances, that might be inappropriate. He just tried to hide his hands as he took a calmer pace to his walk, "Yeah, Yeah......I guess so. How are you and gravity doing?" Mark said this with not as much enthusiasm as he attempted, and he said the rest quietly.
"Honestly, it's been holding me down. However, I haven't fell recently, so I suppose we are on good terms." Sacre answered seriously, trolling Mark.
"Good, good. Good, nice to see you two having fun. How was the festival? Couple people said you were acting odd before we left. Everything alright?"
Sacre paused, not sure how to touch on the issue. "Ven was there, heading for us. Gravity saw her, but we were kinda busy, picking you up. I don't know how to tell Gravity about her."
"Hmm, odd. Why would she be there? What was she doing?," Mark asked the fact that someone close, or had been, was.nearby at the festival.
"I have the same questions. I've been looking at the news reports and no one has died with her MO. I don't know what to make of that. In some ways, it is more frightening. I told Sanssina about it, but she has to finish a bounty before checking it out."
"Think she's working for someone?," Mark asked, thinking if she hadn't killed, Maybe it was because she was being kept in check.
"Possibly? Ven has killed while she was working with others. Especially if she thinks the target deserves it. She can go silent for a while if she doesn't want to alert her target. Most of the times when she's gone silent it has resulted in her coming out of the silence in a roaring rampage of violence against someone or an organization or whatnot." Sacre suggested.
"Well she isn't working with psychopomp, and she's not working for the USO. There are few other groups around willing to hire her. Hmmm, for some reason I find that troubling, and I'm unsure why. Oh well, little that can be done about it....for now. Chlorate tells me I apparently have a granddaughter now. There was a 18 year old girl at the VIP area as an S6 rep. With black hair and red eyes. The fact she is 18, and with those exact traits, means she has to be his child," Mark said interested in this development, and what it may hint at on both accounts.
Sacre didn't follow, "Why's that?" She asked.
"Because Lazarus has black hair and red eyes, none of my adopted children had those traits, and my natural children are only infants. It's not hard to deduce who's child it is. But why is she representing my group, when Jack despises him? Her agave is odd too."
Sacre's own knowlage didn't extend that far. She hadn't been in the VIP area, except for a few moments picking everyone up. "Lazarus wouldn't care about his own child. Jack may have taken her as his own roughly for that exact reason. she may have as much against her 'father' as he does." She suggested.
"Yeah but just the idea that he had a child. Whatever I guess, not like that will matter any longer....."
"I hate to break it to you, but Lazarus got laid. I scincerely hope the reason that it doesn't matter is because Lazurus suffered a laz-5 'accident.''" Sacre replied.
"I have way of knowing whether he has, or not. As much as I would hope it would happen, he isn't the one dying," Mark said his shaking hand now resting at his side.
Sacre's eyes followed his shaking hand. "and you are here to fix that."
"Only if the fix were so simple. No, I'm here to have it monitored, need to know how much time....I have left. The cure is not here, but there is one. It was so close at the festival, then my own double had to pull the break. I'm dying sacre, Orias is eating away at my mind," Mark said with a clear hesitation, and look that said he had doubt about how things would end.
"Of all of the boneheaded!" Sacre cut herself off before she got too excited. She took a breath. "So what is the cure?" She asked, trying to gauge how to address the situation.
"In short. Strapping me to a chair in a coma like state, downloading Orias to a AI core via Geist, and all run by someone who can operate a Geist who isn't me."
"So how do I operate a Geist?" was Sacre's instant reply. She was talking medicine now. Healing a member of her crew, there was a intense passion there.
"You have to have one implanted first, or be very knowledged in its systems. And implantation is either done to a preST body, otherwise it's extremely painful. It takes a while to train one in operation of it, time varying from person to person. There are only 7 in existence currently counting mine." Mark knew she wanted to help, but he didn't think she understood just what she was asking.
"Ok, lets get it done. If we can't get one of the people with one here, then we'll implant one in me so I can do it." Sacre said firmly. If it was going to help Mark, she would do it. Sure it might hurt, but it would just be one more pain that she would carry to her grave with her.
"......Sacre..No...I will not do that to you. What you're asking for is a pain that will haunt you the rest of your life. I know, I was the first, or Mark was. That is why preSTed is now mandatory for the procedure. I will not do that to you, I will not cause you that pain. Not you, or any of the crew, I would never hurt those I care about. Not to save my own life, do not ask that of me," Mark said with the pain at such a thought caused.
Sacre was quiet for a moment. However, it was not the silence of someone rethinking their course of action. It was that of one who needed to explain why she was willing to do what she was willing to do. "Mark, I'm already in pain. It's a pain that I'm not sure I can explain. Sure, there are the scars, and they ache and flare into something that seems unbarable sometimes. However, there are deeper scars, the ones on my mind. They make me, well unpleasent to be around. Make me hurt people that I actually like. However, those are not the deepest ones, the one that can't be cured or go away. The one that tore my soul in two. That's a pain nothing can match. One day I'll die, and the pain will finally be over. One more pain is a light burden to carry. Saving a friend is a great joy to have and hold onto." Sacre explained.
Mark shook his head, giving a humorless chuckle at himself as a few tears escaped his eyes. He moved his shaking hand to hold his arm as he spoke this time, with a sad voice he said, "You know, I wasn't always a nice person. I'm sure I told you that, but at one point I was much like Lazarus. No,....I was worse. I've hurt and murdered people, under order, but I never questioned. Every pull of the trigger was just another target dead. It took the death of those that were the closest thing to family to be the slap in the face that woke me up. To realize what I had done with what remained of friends caked across my body. I don't sleep anymore, because every time I close my eyes they all are there waiting. Even when I'm awake, I see them there in the corner, behind Windows, and in doorways. I made a promise to be better, that I wouldn't hurt those close to me again. Please, don't make me break that promise."
Sacre nodded understanding, "I have my promises to the ghosts of my past too. I wasn't always a complete bitch like I am now. It was right after I joined the army and shipped out to my first unit. Once they understood my boundaries, they became my friends. Then in the course of a single battle, most of them died in my arms as I was frantically working on them. I made a promise that day to do anything to save one of my comrades. Whatever it takes. Right now, it looks like it might take getting a geist. So be it. You won't be hurting me unless you make me break my promise."
Mark looked conflicted for a minute, "Fine, but on one condition."
"What?" Sacre asked, not making any promises.
"I get to fucken hug you. This will still have to be cleared so I can fabricate a implant, and I'll have to program a surgery. I will be there the whole time.With you, gravity can too if you think it will help."
"Is this to win that stupid betting pool that's been going around?" Sacre asked.
"Wait? There's a betting pool? No, I actually just wanted to hug you. This means a lot and I wanted to show it. Besides you always look like you need one.", Mark said genuinely surprised.
"Fine. One hug." Sacre said, coming around the desk.
Mark waited till she was around the desk, then wrapped his arms around her. He was careful to not touch her with the tips of his clawed fingers of his right arm, and gave a gentle squeeze before letting go after a moment, "Again, thank you. I promise to not ask for hugs anymore."
Sacre was doing her best to not freak out. It felt so confining, so horrible. However, for once she felt strong enough to battle against it. She was doing this to save his life. If he only got one hug, it should probably be a good one. So Sacre slid downwards and wrapped her long arms around him as well and held him against her chest. Her fingers gently scrached Mark's back, finding and relieving what tension they found. He could feel Vera pressing against his collar. Then the magical moment was over and the two stood apart again.
"Alright, so as mentioned. I'll have to get the fabrication of a Geist approved. I'll need your help with that, to explain why it's needed. The sooner the better, it's a race against the clock here."
