Re: Inexorable Altercation [Round III - Vorlon Complex]
08-11-2011, 07:39 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by PlumFinder.
Focus - Grab - Fold.
One of the many voices surrounding Loran died away.
'- because you're totally, like, scary, and if there's anything I really don't want to see, it's scary. I mean -'
That one was so annoying. It would go next. Loran focused on that one hallucination, not just the sound of it, but the feel of it, until it became more present, louder and clearer than the others. Outlines made clear, he reached out with his mind and took hold of the entire package, voice and pitch and words and all. With a final effort, he folded the hallucination inwards, pushing it back into itself, until it faded out of existance.
Loran exhaled in relief. Nearly there.
The voice welled up again, softly, continuing its tale like nothing had happened. Loran groaned and concentrated, pushing it away hard, and again it died. He waited, tensed, for the voice to return, but it didn't, this time. Still, it looked like he had pushed his mind to its limits.
He really wasn't sure what had happened. The device he had used, whatever it was, had somehow made his mind, already prone to showing him things that weren't here, even more active with hallucinating. It was like floodgates in his brain had opened, and now he was surrounded by stupid images and voices that his brain projected for him. It probably had something to do with his memories. That was what they were good with, these people, wasn't it? He had probably made his memories more accessible or something, and his brain was happily making use of it. Not just his own memories, even. Many of the hallucinations he was sure didn't come from his own mind. Lingering memories, perhaps, from other people who had lived here. For all he knew the memories were stored somewhere in this place, and he had merely become a hyper sensitive receiver for them.
One more, then he'd open his eyes. Hearing the voices was bad enough without seeing the shapes.
'- queen roam free. Must activate the emergency shutdown. Can't let the queen -'
That one would do. It was no more than a low whisper, but it sounded extremely agitated. Loran held his head in his hands and screwed his eyes even more shut. He had to concentrate. C'mon, one more, he could do it.
Focus... Grab... Fold - Slip... Grab! Fold!
It dissappeared just as it started reciting a bunch of instructions. Loran took a deep breath and wiped the sweat of his face. His head was pounding, like he had literaly stuffed it with hallucinations. He just hoped it would go by. It never used to last long, the pain, when the hallucinations had been small and weak, but he wasn't so sure if this headache would ever go away.
'So are you gonna move now, or what?'
One of the hallucinations had adressed him. Though Loran didn't look, he could feel which one it was. This one was particularly strong, only topped by the other one shuffling around behind Loran's back. They were both conjured by his own mind, from his own memories. Those were always stronger.
'I am particularly strong, though. Makes sense. I'm me.'
Loran opened his eyes, preparing for the worst.
He was still in the same large hallway, still on a ledge above another passage, where he had tried to ambush Apathy. That was good. At least he wasn't hallucinating his surroundings. Except maybe the oranges growing from the ceiling. He wasn't sure if they had been there all the time.
'Good,' the same voice that had addressed him earlier said. 'Now let's move. Dying once was bad enough.'
The voice belonged to a farily tall man, leaning against the wall near Loran. He was wearing a long dark brown trenchcoat and was smoking some kind of purple cigarette. His skin was almost unnaturally tinted, and a short horn split his hairline above his right eye.
He looked somewhat familiar to Loran.
'I must say,' the man continued, blowing a purple cloud of smoke into the air, 'I like this coat you imagined for me. And this stuff is pretty good as well. Better than anything I tried during my life.'
He indicated the cigarette.
'Your life...' Loran repeated. 'Are you dead? Are you one of my victims?'
'Not yours,' the man said. 'Will's. Bastard shot me.'
'Ah.' Understanding came quickly. 'You're him. The guy who died in the first round... What's your name?'
The man shrugged.
'Dunno.'
'You don't remember your own name?' Loran asked.
'You don't,' the man corrected him. 'I'm just a memory. If you don't know something, neither do I.'
'Right,' Loran said, getting up and moving towards the edge. 'Good. Now that that's cleared up, let's -'
'It's Greyve, by the way,' the man said. Loran turned back towards him.
'You just said you - I didn't remember!'
'Clearly you did, somewhere in the back of your mind,' Greyve said, shrugging again. 'Or you just made one up. Is possible too.'
Finally the hallucination behind Loran spoke up.
'My psychological subroutines indicate a 50% chance of that name being made up.'
Loran groaned. Of course.
'Why,' he asked, rounding on OTTO, 'am I hallucinating the two of you? Why not someone I actually want to hallucinate? Why not Gladys? Gladys was nice. Until she tried to blast my head off.'
'My advanced medical knowledge tells me our memories may be more available, since our demises only recently happened. You do still automatically make a mental note of all who die in your vicinity, don't you?'
'It's second nature to me,' Loran grumbled. If ever he hated a part of his assassin training, it was now. 'And OTTO didn't have 'advanced medical knowledge', so shut your trap.'
'Didn't he?' the robot asked uncertainly.
'I think he didn't,' Greyve said.
'Shut up! Loran snapped. 'You're in my mind, so do as I say! I need to go see what happened to Apathy, and neither of you is going to distract me with idle chatter!'
'I bet she didn't hear any of that,' Greyve said, rolling his eyes. Loran raised a warning finger at him, and went to peer over the edge. As he had expected, Apathy was gone. She would've killed him already if she had still been down there. In all likelihood, she had experienced a shock resembling the one Loran had taken, but without the following mass-hallucinations. He could try to follow her. If he was lucky, she had moved away fast, leaving a clear trail.
'Don't bother with that,' Greyve said. 'She made a false trail not far from here. She's not entirely stupid, you know.'
'She is currently hiding two floors down, several hundred meters to the west,' OTTO added.
Loran nodded in thanks, and then froze, turning towards the two dead contestants. They were dead, he told himself. He was just hallucinating them. But then...
'I have no idea where Apathy is,' he said slowly. 'So why do you?'
Focus - Grab - Fold.
One of the many voices surrounding Loran died away.
'- because you're totally, like, scary, and if there's anything I really don't want to see, it's scary. I mean -'
That one was so annoying. It would go next. Loran focused on that one hallucination, not just the sound of it, but the feel of it, until it became more present, louder and clearer than the others. Outlines made clear, he reached out with his mind and took hold of the entire package, voice and pitch and words and all. With a final effort, he folded the hallucination inwards, pushing it back into itself, until it faded out of existance.
Loran exhaled in relief. Nearly there.
The voice welled up again, softly, continuing its tale like nothing had happened. Loran groaned and concentrated, pushing it away hard, and again it died. He waited, tensed, for the voice to return, but it didn't, this time. Still, it looked like he had pushed his mind to its limits.
He really wasn't sure what had happened. The device he had used, whatever it was, had somehow made his mind, already prone to showing him things that weren't here, even more active with hallucinating. It was like floodgates in his brain had opened, and now he was surrounded by stupid images and voices that his brain projected for him. It probably had something to do with his memories. That was what they were good with, these people, wasn't it? He had probably made his memories more accessible or something, and his brain was happily making use of it. Not just his own memories, even. Many of the hallucinations he was sure didn't come from his own mind. Lingering memories, perhaps, from other people who had lived here. For all he knew the memories were stored somewhere in this place, and he had merely become a hyper sensitive receiver for them.
One more, then he'd open his eyes. Hearing the voices was bad enough without seeing the shapes.
'- queen roam free. Must activate the emergency shutdown. Can't let the queen -'
That one would do. It was no more than a low whisper, but it sounded extremely agitated. Loran held his head in his hands and screwed his eyes even more shut. He had to concentrate. C'mon, one more, he could do it.
Focus... Grab... Fold - Slip... Grab! Fold!
It dissappeared just as it started reciting a bunch of instructions. Loran took a deep breath and wiped the sweat of his face. His head was pounding, like he had literaly stuffed it with hallucinations. He just hoped it would go by. It never used to last long, the pain, when the hallucinations had been small and weak, but he wasn't so sure if this headache would ever go away.
'So are you gonna move now, or what?'
One of the hallucinations had adressed him. Though Loran didn't look, he could feel which one it was. This one was particularly strong, only topped by the other one shuffling around behind Loran's back. They were both conjured by his own mind, from his own memories. Those were always stronger.
'I am particularly strong, though. Makes sense. I'm me.'
Loran opened his eyes, preparing for the worst.
He was still in the same large hallway, still on a ledge above another passage, where he had tried to ambush Apathy. That was good. At least he wasn't hallucinating his surroundings. Except maybe the oranges growing from the ceiling. He wasn't sure if they had been there all the time.
'Good,' the same voice that had addressed him earlier said. 'Now let's move. Dying once was bad enough.'
The voice belonged to a farily tall man, leaning against the wall near Loran. He was wearing a long dark brown trenchcoat and was smoking some kind of purple cigarette. His skin was almost unnaturally tinted, and a short horn split his hairline above his right eye.
He looked somewhat familiar to Loran.
'I must say,' the man continued, blowing a purple cloud of smoke into the air, 'I like this coat you imagined for me. And this stuff is pretty good as well. Better than anything I tried during my life.'
He indicated the cigarette.
'Your life...' Loran repeated. 'Are you dead? Are you one of my victims?'
'Not yours,' the man said. 'Will's. Bastard shot me.'
'Ah.' Understanding came quickly. 'You're him. The guy who died in the first round... What's your name?'
The man shrugged.
'Dunno.'
'You don't remember your own name?' Loran asked.
'You don't,' the man corrected him. 'I'm just a memory. If you don't know something, neither do I.'
'Right,' Loran said, getting up and moving towards the edge. 'Good. Now that that's cleared up, let's -'
'It's Greyve, by the way,' the man said. Loran turned back towards him.
'You just said you - I didn't remember!'
'Clearly you did, somewhere in the back of your mind,' Greyve said, shrugging again. 'Or you just made one up. Is possible too.'
Finally the hallucination behind Loran spoke up.
'My psychological subroutines indicate a 50% chance of that name being made up.'
Loran groaned. Of course.
'Why,' he asked, rounding on OTTO, 'am I hallucinating the two of you? Why not someone I actually want to hallucinate? Why not Gladys? Gladys was nice. Until she tried to blast my head off.'
'My advanced medical knowledge tells me our memories may be more available, since our demises only recently happened. You do still automatically make a mental note of all who die in your vicinity, don't you?'
'It's second nature to me,' Loran grumbled. If ever he hated a part of his assassin training, it was now. 'And OTTO didn't have 'advanced medical knowledge', so shut your trap.'
'Didn't he?' the robot asked uncertainly.
'I think he didn't,' Greyve said.
'Shut up! Loran snapped. 'You're in my mind, so do as I say! I need to go see what happened to Apathy, and neither of you is going to distract me with idle chatter!'
'I bet she didn't hear any of that,' Greyve said, rolling his eyes. Loran raised a warning finger at him, and went to peer over the edge. As he had expected, Apathy was gone. She would've killed him already if she had still been down there. In all likelihood, she had experienced a shock resembling the one Loran had taken, but without the following mass-hallucinations. He could try to follow her. If he was lucky, she had moved away fast, leaving a clear trail.
'Don't bother with that,' Greyve said. 'She made a false trail not far from here. She's not entirely stupid, you know.'
'She is currently hiding two floors down, several hundred meters to the west,' OTTO added.
Loran nodded in thanks, and then froze, turning towards the two dead contestants. They were dead, he told himself. He was just hallucinating them. But then...
'I have no idea where Apathy is,' he said slowly. 'So why do you?'