ic Psichology [IC]

[Sophistemon]

Presto walked after Reyes, his eyes on the memories, his heart growing heavy. He hadn't thought the AEGIS agent to be heartless, but to know now that he'd suffered, and it was his suffering that had made him how he was... it changed a few things. It wasn't just Warne that he'd been trying to win over throughout the course of their bizarre dealings, it was decades of loneliness, pain, and despair. After taking a moment to process everything that he'd just heard, the magician could only say: "I had no idea..." before lapsing once more into silence. Finally, after an agonizing minute had passed between words, he spoke again. "Did Warne grow up with AEGIS? Does he have any family of his own?"

[Blarghy]

GM

 

The colonel gave Presto a sideways look.  If he was already concerned for the owner of this mind, then the rest of his journey would be difficult indeed. 

 

"You could call them a family," he shrugged.  "Lifelong Army brat.  Adopted.  No siblings.  Never knew his real parents--never much liked his new ones."

 

A new memory appeared.  Child-Warne was a lean thing of whipcord muscles and energy, but he presently sat at a steel table with motionless discipline.  Around him were uniformed observers; they watched as he stared at a tennis ball in front of him.  It shuddered, and then rose up, before falling back to rest.  Warne exhaled a gust of breath.

 

"...Well done, James," said a man to the right of his chair; something in his voice trembled, and incorrectly thinking that the boy couldn't see his face in the shadows, his expression was openly uneasy.  The woman at his side reached out her hand hesitantly, as though to put it on Warne's shoulder, but pulled back and half-hugged her husband instead.

 

It changed, now a tidy living room.  The married pair stood close together by an open doorway to the kitchen; their faces were frozen in the same thinly-veiled discomfort as before. 

 

"I don't want to go to bed," Warne protested. 

 

They looked to one another, locking eyes, their smiles brittle.  "N...now son..." 

 

He stared back, his gaze angry but also pleading for something far beyond his actual request, and the silence stretched, the air tense.  At last, Warne's nose twitched with fury, and he spun and stormed off, presumably to his room.  The door opened before he put his hand to it, and slammed the same way.  Both parents winced sharply at the sound. 

 

The boy was perhaps eight or nine years old.

 

Reyes' bright blue eyes were sad.  He shook his head lightly and said, "I have two kids of my own, twice as many grandchildren, and a new generation on the way.  You'd be surprised what they can pick up on.  They might not be able to explain it in words, but they know.  You'd also be surprised just how much people need a kind touch now and then, and what it does to us when we don't get it."  He turned to Sam, recalled the magician's time in Blackstone, and amended, "...Or perhaps you do know."

Edited November 10, 2016 by Blarghy

[Sophistemon]

Sam turned his eyes away and walked with his features facing forward. He didn't want to see anymore. "They were afraid of him," he mused, then shook his head. "That's awful. I... don't think I can relate. My parents were always really supportive. I kind of broke their hearts a little bit when I went into stage-magic, because they had these high hopes that I'd go to medical school and be a doctor, but I turned that around when I started headlining in Las Vegas. Then the... the, ah, the accident happened, and everything went bad." It suddenly occurred to Sam that he hadn't spoken to his parents since the day he'd been released, and he didn't know what made him sadder: that he hadn't called them, or that they hadn't called him. "I tried really hard to get on his good side when we went after Baku the first time, before we knew it was Baku. I kind of got the feeling, when I first met him, that Warne didn't think I could be a different man. I'd made my mistakes, and they defined me. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I could prove to me that I was changing." He smiled wanly. "I'm not sure if it worked."

[Blarghy]

GM

 

With a sad tilt of his head, Reyes admitted, "He'll probably never trust you.  Not that he really trusts anybody, but ex-cons have a special place of spite in his heart.  It isn't even a matter of past experiences, being burned before; he's just lived his whole life on the side of government and law enforcement.  It's basic tribalism.  You're one of 'them', and he might work with 'them' when he has to, but he'll never let you in.  It's just the way he is."

 

A new window appeared.  From Warne's perspective, he seemed to be flying above Freedom City, probably Greenbank from what Presto could see.  A man in a green costume with broad wings was bearing down on him, but as the scene froze, Reyes turned it like the lens of a camera to focus on something higher up.  The figure in the background was enormous, a war-suit of gleaming steel with splotches of red and blue. 

 

"Now him, I have high hopes for.  A regular boy scout.  He's on the right team, he's got heart, and even James can't ignore it.  Maybe he'll do what neither of us could."

[Sophistemon]

The magician remained silent for a moment before responding. When he did, his voice was flat. "I hope so," he said, and left it at that. He didn't like the idea of being 'them' forever, even if it was only in the eyes of one heavily damaged person. It irked at him, like a spider-bite that he couldn't quite scratch. It nipped and niggled at his ego, the idea that he'd never be good enough to change Warne's mind about him. But here it was, coming straight from the agent's mind itself. There was nothing Sam could do about it, so he decided to keep moving. "I've heard of the Horned Dragon," he finally spoke. "He and I never worked together that I can remember, but we traveled in similar circles. The guy in the armor, though, I don't know. If he can get through to Warne, though, more power to him."

[Blarghy]

GM

 

The Colonel smiled gently, seeming to understand.  "AEGIS personnel," he briefly explained.  "I'm tempted to tell you more, but his secrets aren't mine to give.  I'll only say that he's a good man.  Not that I don't trust you, whatever James thinks, of course.  As I said before, you're--"

 

He cut off when a noise came from the ceiling above them.  They had made good progress down the long hallway (its length dreamlike, seeming to change and reveal a door closer than Presto expected, once he had the attention to notice it)--perhaps so good that it gave time for their pursuers, the mental defense teams, to catch up.  But why would they, from the sound of it, choose to scramble through the air vents?  The disturbance moved faster, stopping over their heads, then rustling back and forth like a dog trying to find something small and tasty it had smelled. 

 

Reyes' blue eyes turned cold.  He pulled his pistol from its holster and put his other hand on Presto's shoulder, pushing the magician silently forward at a brisk walk.  Although he didn't speak, his face was grim, even angry.  Not even when he fired upon his fellow brain-dwellers had he shown actual distaste like this.

[Sophistemon]

Presto is pushed along, and reflexively summons his wand -- but then remembers the warning he'd received earlier. "What's happening?" he asked. "Colonel, what's going on?" His mask appears, spreading across his face like an inky-black stain, and his eyes turn to a polished, shining silver. "How can I help?"

[Blarghy]

GM

 

Not far from the door at the end of the corridor now, Reyes stopped at Sam's question.  The noise above them had changed subtly; a long gash tore in the ceiling, through it protruding a slim blade the same shiny oil shade as Presto's mask.  It withdrew quickly, but returned to slash again and again.

 

"You can learn from James' mistakes," the Colonel answered sternly.  He lifted his pistol, and as a section of the roof collapsed inward, fired.

 

His bullet, and the several that followed, caught the pure black monster mid-air with skillful aim.  It was a hideous thing, likely reminding Presto of the Alien franchise, yet more mutable, even less human.  It had no eyes that he could see, and the mouth it used to scream--misshapen and full of mismatched razor-teeth--folded back into the clay-like creature soon after.  On the ground it writhed under the force of Reyes' anger; he stalked toward it, pistol roaring again and again, each shot opening large, bloodless wounds.  It tried to counter with its many blade-limbs, but even when they struck home, the old man pressed onward.  He at last came close enough to fire pointblank and stamped one boot onto the closest thing it had to a neck.  There, its attacks reduced to painful flailing.

 

"We all have a kernel of nastiness inside us," Reyes told Presto without looking away from the monster beneath his foot.  "Some bigger than others.  It's our selfish side; we can't throw it away, but it's our choice how much we listen.  No shame in it, unless you give in too often.  But if you aren't careful, the evil of the world and all the pain and sorrow it brings you can turn to cynical anger.  It's like a chunk of metal stuck in a plumbing pipe; flush it out often, keep it clean, or every bit of hair and grime that comes through'll stick to it, growing, until the whole thing's clogged. 

 

"James ignores his, more often than not.  But he won't let it go.  He holds onto the nastiness, nursing it, feeding it, letting it out once in a blue moon, when he thinks it'll help his work.  So here it is, skulking around, getting bigger every time he comes across something so terrible that his heart breaks a little more.  I keep it at bay, best I can, but one day I fear it'll be too strong, and then..."

[Sophistemon]

"God!" Presto leaped back, aimed his wand... and hesitated, remembering the dire warning. He stared down at the monster that thrashed beneath Reyes' boot and made a face of disgust. "I guess you can't just... kill it, can you?" he asked. "It's a part of Warne just like you are, just like the hit-squads... so you're all here to stay whether you're good for him or not." He shook his head and turned away. "I shouldn't be seeing this. I shouldn't be here. Damn you, Baku." He sighed and slumped against a wall. "Why couldn't he just let it go? It was over, Reyes! I'll never understand the stupid desire for revenge. Do you have any idea how many people I met in prison who couldn't talk about anything other than getting out and killing the hero that put them there? We're talking geniuses, people who could have done anything, and all they wanted was to show some costumed nut that they were stronger." He raised a hand and cupped his face. "All I ever wanted was fame and fortune. At least that's rational."

[Blarghy]

GM

 

"Some people might disagree with you about that last bit," the mental construct smiled, stiff but wry.  "We all have our poisons.  Most of us just don't realize it.  We rationalize our flaws and refuse to let them go.  Nobody's perfect, but refusing to try is a whole 'nother problem."

 

His opponent twisted under his foot, fighting for freedom; Reyes shot it again.  "Now, go!  I'll hold it here as long as I can, but this thing wants you, not me, for what you represent.  It'll hunt you, magical signature or no, and it's no more friendly than the guards that patrol James' mind.  Just through that door, right there," he pointed with his free hand, toward the end of the hall.  "It's the next level down.  I've arranged for another guide to take you as far as she can.  Remember what you see here, Sam.  I hope you can save us, I hope you can save James, but remember and be a better man for it when you're gone."

[Sophistemon]

Sam looked at Reyes and nodded. "For... for what it's worth, it's been a pleasure meeting you. Thanks for the help, Reyes; I'll do my best." He spared another glance at the writhing monster and then left through the indicated door. It wasn't until he'd passed through when something struck him. "She?" He didn't have much experience at all with Warne's personal life, but for some reason he didn't strike the magician as being much of a man for dating. Then again, it could be any 'she,' he supposed. He looked about himself, gripping the wand tightly in his hand, and continued onward through the avenues of Adept's subconscious.

[Blarghy]

GM

 

The Colonel's last look to him was an encouraging smile, followed by a nod.  Whatever else was to come, Presto the Preposterous had met one decent aspect of Warne's persona.

 

Time would tell if this grim agent had any more.

 

Through the door, Sam immediately found a set of stairs.  They began as clean, industrial steps, like what he would find in the real Federal Building, but after two flights they slowly changed to iron grates.  Muddy footprints and pieces of trash marred their surfaces; somewhere, water slowly dripped.  He had to climb for a few minutes, largely in silence, before he reached another door at the bottom of the stairwell.  When he opened it, waiting for him was a scowl that would've made Warne proud.  By chance, it happened to be attached to a woman.

 

She was rather short, not particularly thin, and had her blond hair tied back in a tight bun.  Her face looked stiff, wooden, and if Sam stared closely, he could see faint scars that surgery could not fully cover.  His guide wore black body armor much like the guards who chased him back in the lobby high above, but hers was printed with the AEGIS logo on the chest. 

 

"Steiner," she said briskly, and not altogether kind.  "Took you long enough.  Reyes had better be right about you, son; I don't want any trouble, and if it turns out that you're responsible for this intrusion instead of that Baku creature, then I'll personally hold you here as this place crumbles down around us both.  Now come on; we've got a world to save, even if it's a small one."

 

When she turned away, Presto saw another print across the back of her tactical vest.  A name, this time: T. Becker. 

[Sophistemon]

"I... uh." Sam was at a loss for words. Things were progressing more quickly than hew as used to, and he'd had far too little time for questions. He supposed that was for the best; the sooner they caught up with Baku, the less damage he could cause and the more quickly Presto could return to the waking world. "Sure," he said, finally finding the word. He followed after her, wand at the ready. "So... Reyes and I got to talking," he began, attempting chitchat. "How do you know Warne?" The older man had been a father figure to the grim-faced agent of AEGIS. Could this Becker be his mother figure? His real mother figure, discounting the fearful woman and the milquetoast husband that had ostensibly raised him? He looked around. "It was cleaner upstairs," he commented. "The deeper we go, the dirtier it gets?" He didn't suppose that was a good sign.

Edited November 13, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

GM

 

Becker's eyes narrowed--the skin around them failed to crinkle, lending more credence to the likelihood that she'd undergone extensive plastic surgery for some reason--at Presto's last comment.  "The world's dirty, Steiner.  Reyes, the idealist, might think otherwise, but Warne and I know different.  We clean up the worst messes and learn not to sweat the dust.  It's the only way to stay sane."

 

She led him down a dingy corridor with flickering lights for a moment before answering Sam's other question.  "And I'm his boss, if you must know.  One of them, anyway.  A link in the chain going all the way up to Directer Powers."

[Sophistemon]

Presto followed after her, heaving a sigh of moderate annoyance at her attitude. Reyes had been a refreshing change from Warne's constant dour mood, but it looked as though this Becker woman was cut from the same cloth. Or, perhaps, she was the originator of the pattern? "How long have you known Warne?" Sam asked her, ignoring for now her dreary statement about messes and sweating dust. The agent was a mystery, and if Sam could never earn the man's trust, he'd at least get to the bottom of why it was impossible. His ego demanded no less than that scant, partial victory over total failure. Defeating Baku was one thing -- the main thing -- but if things went according to plan Adept would never even know it'd happened. This journey to the center of the mind would mean less than nothing to the agent when everything was over and done with. While he was here, Sam planned to learn what he could.

[Blarghy]

GM

 

With a silent glance to him, perhaps anticipating his thoughts, perhaps just debating why she should give any secrets to this former criminal, Becker nonetheless did answer.

 

"About a year and a half, not long after he joined AEGIS.  I sent him to kill, and then to die."

 

A wave of her hand, much like Reyes had done, turned the wall beside them into a memory.  Becker sat at a desk in her government office, presenting Warne with a dossier.  Her earlier self gestured and spoke, words muted to mere mutters.  The effect was a neutral but stern slate smoothing over Warne's face.  He listened, at last nodded only once, and left the room without asking questions or permission to dismiss. 

 

"He refused to do either."

 

The opposite wall became a small police station; a window in the background revealed a dark desert beyond, perhaps in or near Sam's home state of Nevada.  A single sheriff was frozen in a pose of alarm and astonishment.  At the door stood two haggard figures.  The first, a man with his hands bound in front of him by warped steel--something like a stairwell railing--wore the adornment of a scientist.  His lab coat was torn to pieces, likely by his own efforts: his joined hands had long claws, quills draped from his arms, shoulders, and back, and his mouth seemed much too large, though this too was locked in place by a ring of metal that wrapped from his jaws to his scalp.  Whatever this creature was, he limped painfully.  Dried blood painted his vicious talons and his formerly white coat. 

 

Much of it, Sam could be sure of--he had, after all, seen Warne in combat before; the man didn't need to leave such a mess--belonged not to the prisoner, but to his captor.  Warne appeared even more ragged than his target.  His suit hung off him in ribbons; his hair, forehead, and the entire left half of his face were all crusted thick with gore, and he had in his eyes that smoldering fury which suited him so well. 

 

He kept one hand digging into the scientist's shoulder, whether he needed to or not, given the power of his mind.  The other, he extended toward the sheriff.

 

"Phone.  Now."

 

The memories faded.  Becker, no less grim than before, still smiled grudgingly.  "He disobeyed my orders by bringing Dr. Bishop back alive, but damned if I was going to discipline him for it."

Edited November 13, 2016 by Blarghy

[Sophistemon]

The magician blanched and looked away. "So," he said. "Reyes tried to make Warne feel like he was more than a government weapon, and you..." he shook his head. "It looks like you didn't." He thought back, but didn't remember a 'Doctor Bishop' or his crimes. It may have been that they didn't travel in the same circles, or maybe Warne had been active for longer than Presto the Preposterous. Or, maybe, Doctor Bishop had been arrested and locked away somewhere so quickly that he hadn't even entered the common history of Freedom City. It probably didn't matter, but it was interesting nonetheless. "He's more like you than he is Reyes," mused Presto. "But Reyes came to help first. I wonder what that means?" He returned to his place beside Becker. "You wanted him to die in the fight against Bishop? Why?"

Edited November 13, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

GM

 

"I wanted him to do a dangerous job that had to be done," Becker corrected angrily.  "I have never been glad to order a suicide mission, but sometimes it is absolutely necessary.  I protect the public, even if it means placing my agents in harm's way.  That's what it means to be what Warne and I are.  He understands that, little boy, and he accepts it.  Even Reyes understands that.  He might've been a little sweeter than I am, but he used his soldiers for the same purpose that I do: to cut out the rot of the world before it spreads.  I just don't sugarcoat it like he did.  Besides, I haven't changed anything about Agent James Warne.  Adept was Adept long before he met me, with all that his name entails.  I use him because he's useful, and the alternative is standing back and watching civilians suffer and die under the thumbs of people with more power than ethics.  It isn't nice, it isn't fun, but we do it anyway, because someone has to."

[Sophistemon]

Presto waved a hand dismissively. "Call it what you want," he said. "I get it; leaders have to make tough decisions -- blah, blah, blah." He stopped in his tracks, then chuckled. "What am I doing, trying to debate with you? You aren't real. You're just a piece of Warne's personality." He laughed. "Of course! Reyes is... what? His conscience? A lingering sense of independent self-worth? Which makes you his self-sacrificing sense of duty, right? He grew up being turned into a weapon, a thing to be fired and forgotten, so he uses you to justify that to himself so it doesn't drive him crazy." He walks stiffly, arms swinging at his sides. "Yes, sir! No, sir! I'll march blindly into death, sir!" He turns on Becker. "This goes deeper than being a soldier, doesn't it? He lives in a world of black and white; that's why I'll always be the 'bad guy' and why he's so damn willing to throw his life away. I mean, have you seen the man lately? He looks a good twenty years older than he is! He's working himself to death for people like you and that's just... what? Business as usual? For the greater good of the American Dream?"

Edited November 14, 2016 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

GM

 

"Precisely," Becker agreed.  "For the greater good."  And yet, Presto's criticisms seemed to have an effect.  Not only was she angry; now the mental projection appeared slightly shaken. 

 

"What alternative do you propose, Steiner?  You, of course, aren't the type to seriously endanger yourself for the benefit of others.  Not unless there's an audience around to cheer you on.  Warne didn't enlist you for your last mission with tales of patriotism or explaining the dangers to Freedom City; he had to bully you, threaten your personal comforts, before you agreed.  If his important work burns Warne out before his time, then so be it.  How can any one life be more important than the entire civilizations he helps protect?  I defy you to find a member of AEGIS who thinks otherwise.  This is who we are.  We believe in the greater good."

 

Then, from above, came a noise.  Sam might initially recall his recent encounter upstairs with the horrible beast that haunted Warne's subconsciousness, but this sounded different.  More distant, for one, and thus probably in the level above and not the vents; he had trouble being certain, but it seemed akin to many quick footsteps.  The worn-down, blighted building around him wasn't stable enough to muffle them entirely. 

[Sophistemon]

"He didn't... he didn't even try," objected the magician, but his voice was uncertain. Looking back, had Warne appealed to Sam's better nature before launching into threats and coercion? He remembered feeling indignant and offended, but he couldn't recall, verbatim, the conversation. That worried him. Was he the kind of man that Becker... that Warne thought he was? "Maybe you're right," he said. "You probably are. But those other agents, they had a choice, didn't they? They wanted to enlist, and they did. I can respect that; I do respect that. But Warne didn't enlist. Reyes showed me a memory; Warne's been trained for this his entire life. He never had a choice -- he was indoctrinated." Again, though, he realized that he was arguing with Warne's own internalized justifications. She was his Duty Personified, and he shook his head, realizing the futility of it. Suddenly, the thudding of footsteps above them put an end to the conversation. Presto quirked his head to one side, listening. "Did you hear that?" he asked. "Is that the monster, or the hit-men?"

[Blarghy]

GM

 

Again, Presto's response gave Becker some pause.  She frowned and took a moment before addressing his final question, though the rest of what he said was likely still on her mind.

 

One of her gestures created a radio hooked close to her collar, police-style.  The voices that issued from it were dry and empty, calling to mind two sheets of paper scraping gently together.  The hollow rasps of mental processes rather than people, even if they were forced into familiar forms for Sam's convenience. 

 

"Suspect is a small brown monkey, last seen in the elevator shaft leading to Memories, FBI Cases.  Advise projected path."

 

"Advise the 2006-2010 time frame.  Rerouting other patrols to the area."

 

"Any new reports of second suspect, control?"

 

"Negative.  Last sighting still in lobby; Colonel Reyes appears to be interfering and should not be trusted for information."

 

"Copy that, control."

 

Becker thought about this, then concentrated hard; doors appeared along their corridor, followed by brass plaques above or beside them.  She swept the dust off of one: Memories, Birthdays, Birth-Present.  Curious, and perhaps tragic, if they could all fit into one easy package. 

 

"We can intervene," Becker said.  "We're not far from where Baku might be.  ...Of course, the security details won't be happy to see you there.  But maybe...yes, come this way; I have an idea."

[Sophistemon]

Presto conjured his wand, just in case, and followed after Becker with his mouth set to a thin, grim line. "Whatever you say," he told her. "You're the boss." As they made their way through Warne's mind, though, he was struck by a thought. "I don't want Baku killed," the magician said at last. "I mean, not if it's possible to keep him alive." He couldn't really explain why he felt that way, not even to himself. Baku had been a dangerous, vicious, vindictive enemy. All of this was his fault, and yet... Sam couldn't shake the image of that burnt and smoking body propelled by a burst of fire up and through the wall of the hidden lab. It gave him a feeling not entirely dissimilar to how it was when he thought back about the girl, the fall, and the sound of impact. "He's a bastard, but if we can keep him alive... he should face justice, is all."

[Blarghy]

GM

 

Walking quickly, Becker looked toward Sam with a smile.  A grim and terrible smile, but a smile nonetheless, one that would've been at home on Warne himself.

 

"Oh, I agree.  Warne doesn't kill, as you know.  Even when he should.  Why should his ethics matter more than the safety of the public?  Baku, as you know, will be hard to catch and harder to contain.  He can walk unseen through walls and take the shape of animals.  He seems to be immortal, too.  If we lock him up, then eventually he'll escape, no matter where we put him.  When he does, more people will suffer.  All because you and Warne can't make that hard choice.  Innocent people will suffer so that the two of you can sleep at night.  Where's the justice in that, Steiner?"

[Sophistemon]

"There are ways to contain him," Presto objected. "And... it's possible he can be reasoned with." He shook his head. "You're infuriating. People can be rehabilitated. Baku's... not a great guy, but if we could just persuade him to leave and never come back, that might be enough. Isn't there enough death in the world without us adding to it whenever it's more convenient than talking things out?"