riverview | Voice. (possible action outside of the wall)

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Voice. (possible action outside of the wall) | un: ilikehorses

[It's been... a hell of a last two weeks for Laura. She had woken up with a chunk of memory inexplicably gone, uninjured as always, and yet — the faintest scent of blood under her scrubbed nails. She wasn't in a hospital, but some big room with heavy doors and Linda the social worker; her head was bandaged, her look one of bone-deep concern as she sits beside the girl.

Oh. The memory of her recapture sits heavy in her gut. The collar, the chair, the network recording, just before everything vanished from her mind. Linda runs a hand through her hair and explains things basically: Shiloh came, he took her, and he used something on her to control her. But it's fine now — all fine, his body was found, he can't do anything anymore.

Laura looks tiredly skeptical at the whole thing. She asks if she killed anybody. Linda dodges the question, which is answer enough. "We just... what he used might still be in effect, so we're making sure you're back to yourself." Linda knows her bad history with rooms like this. Maybe it's why it's so big and spacious.

But she stays, and days pass, and she's not sure what happens outside. She just knows people are dead, and she hasn't any clue who. There's something terrifying about not remembering if you took a life, even if such an act is too easy for someone like her.

When she's finally cleared to leave, there's a paranoia in her that maybe she isn't.

So she steers clear and packs a bag and runs away into the woods. But she at least leaves Linda little note this time, so she doesn't pull her hair out panicking. Out there where she can find comfort in isolation, she makes herself known on the network; she doesn't use text. It feels like an easy out.]

I do not remember... what happened. I know a man did something to make me hurt people, but...

[A pause, heavy and unsure how to proceed; but the guilt is there to carry her forward.]

I am sorry for any pain or suffering I caused.

I will be staying outside the wall for a little while, to make sure I am not a danger.

[She thought she'd maybe figure out something to say after that, but...

Her mouth just sort of freezes there.]

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[Jintetsu's not an easy guy to read, but there's a slight change in his posture when she brings up the cult's activities. A whole bunch of pieces just fell into place at once.

It's not an unfamiliar concept. Kamigakari - inviting spirits into one's body - is a feature of Shinto that's still widely practiced where (and when) he's from. But there are plenty of beings out there that don't care if the host they're offered is unwilling. Maybe some even prefer it that way. A cult devoted to that kind of spirit... it makes perfect sense.

It isn't her in there, Lola had told him. Seems like she was right.]

So that's it. I thought you fought like you were possessed.

[She hesitates.]

It's not that simple.

[Spoken as if the idea of host bodies is simple, but...]

They failed in using anyone's bodies. And most of them were arrested for what they had done. Or killed. Shiloh had escaped, though — and he figured out a way to make me hurt people, with science... What I was drugged with changed me.

Oh.

[Not quite the same, then. Right, the vial Shiloh waved under her nose, in the video... that must have been the drug. He's seen that kind of thing before, too, though not to such an extreme, and never involving a kid.

... But he's surprised to find himself feeling... disappointed, almost? And he's not sure why. It's kind of a shitty reaction to have. So he just... ignores it. Even if the causes are different, the end result is the same, and it's still a fucked up thing to do to a kid. Either way, Shiloh had better watch his back. ~~uhh little late for that, dude-~~

He's quiet for a moment, thinking.]

... Was that ... the first time you'd killed anyone?

... No.

[She says it simply, but quietly.]

I have killed many people before... People who chased me, to take me back to the labs I was raised in.

[Another similarity there. He may not know what a lab is, but he knows what it's like to live on the run, alone, killing your pursuers every time they catch up. Brings back lots of unpleasant memories.]

... I know the feeling. It's a hard way to live.

[Laura looks him up and down.]

How long have you lived that way?

A few years.

[He picks a stick up off the ground, idly pokes the dead campfire with it.]

Obviously, our circumstances aren't exactly the same. In my case, it's something I brought on myself. But they're similar, in some ways.

[Ah, yes. She's not as familiar with the concept of being bullshit to your own front step, but she can see where he's getting at. She eyes the dead campfire and lets her curiosity lead her along by the hand.]

What happened to you?

[For a long moment, Jintetsu doesn't answer. It feels like a lifetime ago, and in a sense it was, but there's still an ache to the memories, like an old scar that didn't heal quite right.

His father's body, not yet cold. White-hot grief, desperate rage. Helplessness. A dark decision, a terrible bargain.]

... I made some bad choices when I was younger.

[A farewell gift for Otsuki. Dutiful Kagemitsu, refusing to stand down. The moment he cut down his lifelong friend.]

I let something in that I shouldn't have. But having opened that door, even once... I can never fully close it again.

[Blood and madness. His body dancing without him to some horrible music he couldn't hear. The screams of dying men. The uncanny silence when the last one stopped. Coming back to himself, cold, exhausted, and utterly alone.

He'd fled after that, and been pursued, both by humans and by things other than human. And they'd both caught him, again and again and again and again, and he'd killed and killed and killed and killed. Not just the men who drew steel on him, either. Even the barmaid trying to run. Even the children huddled under the table, hoping the monster wouldn't see them. (But he'd seen them. He still sees them, sometimes, in dreams.)

In the present, he closes his eye and sighs deeply.]

... So, I've killed too many people to count. I even got good enough to make a living at it. But karma caught up to me eventually.

[He takes his left hand out of his cloak. The forearm is still splinted with rebar, and the actual claw marks Laura left in it are hidden under bandages, but it's still quite clear it's artificial. The steel fingers make a light tink as he touches them to his mask. He leaves the mask on, though, and lowers his hand after a few seconds, looking back up at her.]

The truth is, you remind me of myself from back then. That's why I came out here after you.

I want to help you, if I can.

[She watches him with this look, this gaze that holds no judgement or confusion or fear. She just listens and learns, and it's something she's gotten pretty good at, all things considered. It reminds her a little of her father; she's not sure if Logan killed the same way, but he did kill. He killed a lot, had to have, and most certainly did in her presence. Good and bad, it's all the same. A life is a life, even if some deserve to lose theirs.

There's still a toll, for judging yourself, who gets to keep living.

It's interesting to hear someone else relate.]

... I'm not in danger. I — I'm okay now. Killing people, it is... something I'm trying not to do. Because that means I would be doing what the people who made me wanted.

[He's not sure what kind of reaction he expected, to be honest. But her expression just seems... calm. She isn't afraid, isn't passing judgment. She simply... understands. It's a strange feeling. Kind of a relief, even?

... But anyway.]

Sure. But you're still worried you could lose control again, right? You did say you came out here to avoid hurting anyone else.

... I do worry.

I'm just... not sure how anyone can stop something like that from happening again.

[Other than staying away from people, anyway.]

You find a workaround. Or that's what I did, anyway.

[It took a while, of course. He tried avoiding people altogether, but - even for a loner like him, total isolation had been unbearable. Then he tried surrounding himself with the kind of people the world would be better off without, so if the worst should happen, nothing of value would be lost. But it wasn't foolproof, and keeping bad company had a way of twisting him into bad company, too.

He looks down at Haganemaru, then pulls the sword from his belt without unsheathing it. The eye in the pommel meets his, then swivels to look at Laura.]

... All right, full disclosure, I guess. I'm the workaround. Name's Haganemaru, nice to meet you, et cetera. Jintetsu can't talk, but I know what he's thinking, so I do it for him.

[She looks at the sword, not quite as shocked as others probably were. It's very odd, but—]

I could tell. Your voice was not your own — not from your mouth.

How do you know what he is thinking?

[This is nifty; a complex mutant ability if she'd ever seen one.

... Or a curse. Maybe.]

Yeah? That's pretty sharp hearing. [He sounds impressed. As for the other thing, though...]

It's a bit complicated. Honestly, I'm not sure how to explain it. [~~There used to be a canon explanation, but it got retconned, so who even knows?~~]

The important thing is, while I'm around, Jintetsu can't be taken over so easily. And if fate brought even the two of us together, maybe there's something out there that'll work for you, as well. ... he says.

[She taps her ear.]

Mutant.

[Sometimes, you get lucky — her hearing is pretty good, but her nose was the most blessed of the senses. But as he explains, she considers how it had been similar to her own predicament with her father; she didn't talk to him, let Charles say what she was thinking, and that had been enough for a while. She gets it.]

... What happened, that you can't speak?

[He pauses. She's believed everything else so far, but... ah, screw it. He's already told her way more about himself than most people ever find out, and it's not like she can't handle the gruesome stuff, so why not this part, too.]

There was a huge bounty on my head for a while, and a lot of guys trying to collect it. One of them caught me off guard, eventually. His dogs tore out my throat.

... he says. [- Haganemaru adds, just for clarity.]

[Ahhh.

It's too bad, that so many people can't just... regenerate. It makes everything so easy.

Well... It was hellish to get to that point, so maybe it's not so bad.]

There are people who speak with their hands. Sign language.

Maybe you could learn some. But it would — put your sword out of a job.

["Sign language," huh? He's not sure how much good it would do, but he files the idea away for later. He's the kind of person who'd rather communicate through blank stares than resort to charades.]

Hah! [That's Haganemaru, with a smug glint in his eye.] Don't think that's the only thing I'm good for! Anyway, it's the other way around. Without me, he'd be out of a job.

[Jintetsu glares at him on principle, although ... he's not wrong? Jintetsu's kind of hyper-specialized for murder, he's complete garbage at things like "manual labor" and "being nice to customers."]

[She stares at the two of them with a sort of intensity — none dangerous, but the sort of studious eye that is probably none too comfortable. She's reading them, or doing her best to, though she supposes what he says tells enough of a story.]

Out of a job.

Killing people, sí?

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Voice. (possible action outside of the wall) | un: ilikehorses

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