[open, backdated to May] like i'm losing my mind

[superposition]

Who: Qubit, open
What: Belated amnesia shenanigans! Watch Qubit steadily grow more and more frustrated-
When: month of May 2020
Where: around Anchor
Warnings: TBD

01 | try { qubit = new Identity(); }

[ So, Qubit's behavior has taken a turn for the weird.

For one thing, residents get to see a lot more of him over the month of May, because he's started living out of an actual dorm instead of his lab. The more astute may notice what he's not doing. He's not performing maintenance, or doing lab experiments... or showing up for meals reliably.

His ability to sit still already wasn't stellar, but now it's more pronounced. You might catch him coming and going at odd hours, or pacing the halls muttering to himself, or taking notes on a pad of paper with a pen.

He even looks slightly different. His hair, for one - there was already some variation in his signature quiff from day to day, but now they're not as tall, the styling is a little more experimental, and whatever kind of product he's using doesn't hold quite as well.

But perhaps the most obvious indicator something's wrong: he's occasionally wearing colors other than green. ]

02 | while (true) { read(); }

[ One place he ends up pretty regularly, though, is the library. He's found he hates the feeling of not knowing things, and this leads him to devour pretty much any book he can find that has to do with science. Physics, chemistry, biology, astronomy, anything. He piles them high and reads them quickly, impatient to get to the next one.

They're somewhat advanced texts - university level, certainly - but not advanced enough that they'd be useful to him under normal circumstances. Even then, he's not finding it easy to focus. It's like his mind wants to absorb information faster than his eyes can serve it up, and because of that, it's latching on to every distraction it can find. Even if you think you're being quiet, anyone who dawdles more than a minute or two will be getting an irritated glare and a stern reprimand. ]

Would it kill you to keep it down?

03 | catch GatewayFailedException e { Gateway.lockdown(); }

[ Inevitably, though, he eventually finds his way back to R&D. He may poke around in unlocked areas to get a feel for the place, but his primary target is one lab in particular: the one that he's determined is his.

He thought it would be relatively simple. Sure, he can't remember any of his passcodes, but his biometrics haven't changed. Of course, nothing can ever be that easy - the thumbprint scanner works, but the keypad locks him out after a few random passcode attempts, prompting a sigh and some more self-directed muttering. ]

Suppose I should've expected that. Fine, Plan B it is.

[ It's an electronic lock, after all. He may not be clear on how to create anything with this power of his, but he's remarkably good at breaking shit, and for once that may actually come in handy. A moment's concentration, a wave of his hand, a brief cascade of blue light, and the mechanism comes away from the door in pieces, which clatter onto the floor as he releases them.

Did it work? He actually looks hopeful for a second... until the door emits a quick series of loud ker-thunks, and he realizes with sudden dismay that that's the sound of more locks engaging. ]

A fail-safe...?!

[ He might need some help. ]

[ OR: PM or hit me up on Discord (Kae#6067) for plotting or another prompt! ]

Comments

[superposition]

[ Meanwhile, oblivious to the talking-to his once and future self is in for, Qubit accepts the remaining pieces and returns the pile to the desk. ]

I suppose.

[ Pity seems like a strong word, but it was an experience just now, he won't deny that. Hell, it's the first time since he came to that he's felt in control of anything. And yet... the longer he reflects on it, the more it dawns on him how terrifying it actually is. He studies the palm of his hand, his expression sober. ]

The potential of a gift like this - it's extraordinary. I can see how it might be... intoxicating.

[ His first impulse is to put it through its paces. Once he's mastered it, would there be anything he couldn't create? Logically, there has to be some upper bound - energy doesn't just come out of nowhere, he knows that much. But he wants very badly to find that boundary - to push this strange ability to its limit, and learn what wondrous things it can do.

And yet... He begins sifting through the debris, inspecting the damage from the outside. His potential for creation is mostly theoretical at this point, but he's ably demonstrated his potential for destruction. ]

It seems like a double-edged sword, though. I mean, look at this. If I'm not careful, I could end up doing this to - I don't know. A power plant. Life support. The machines may not be alive, but they're keeping people alive.

[ Apparently, their powers do have some strong parallels. Carlisle is a healer of flesh, and Qubit a healer of steel - but neither of them has much room for carelessness. ]

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle nods, as Qubit has a point. As he looks at the pieces of the ruined communicator, he can't help but focus more on the parallels between their respective abilities. However unique they may be from one another, the two of them undoubtedly have equal potential for both good and bad. Qubit can either fix the machinery of Anchor, making the colony more hospitable for everyone trapped there, or he can destroy it with a mere thought. He could obliterate the network, twist the generators until they can no longer maintain the life-support systems that are apparently vital for survival in the wasteland.

Carlisle's own powers are much the same: he can easily reach into someone and use his energies to mend their physical wounds, restoring their body to its peak. However, on the other side of the coin... well, he's seen first-hand what his magic can do to those around him. The decay he leaves behind in moments of duress is evidence enough, if the withered corpses and desecrated landscape of Bear Den were not.]

Ah. That is a burden all talented magicians bear. Or, er. Psionics, I suppose. Whatever the collected term is for them. There is a great deal of responsibility in keeping your energies under control, as what you could do should you lose your grip upon them would be... [He shakes his head — it's a minute movement, unintentional, but one visible enough to someone as observant as Qubit.] Catastrophic, to put it lightly.

[Though he does his best to mask it, Carlisle speaks like someone who knows exactly what kind of catastrophe that would be. He's sure Qubit knows, as well — or the Qubit he knew would, at least.]

[superposition]

[ Qubit doesn't fail to notice the change in Carlisle's tone, the slight shake of his head - and for the first time in several minutes, he remembers to step outside his own head for a bit.

Is that the voice of experience? Carlisle's commented a couple of times on the similiarities between their respective powers - in particular, the subjective experience of using them. Of flooding a system, and asserting complete, fine-grained control -

A realization strikes him suddenly, and he glances up to Carlisle, alarmed. ]

Are you saying - if your control would have slipped -

[abheirrant]

[Yes, that is exactly what he's saying. Or not saying, rather.]

I am well-trained as a healer, Mister Qubit, but yes. The results would have been just as unpleasant as what you've done to your communicator.

[Or even more so, but the less this Qubit knows about how badly things go when Carlisle loses his grasp on his abilities, the better. He'll remember in time.]

[superposition]

[ Qubit lets out a long breath. Somehow, the discomfort he felt during the exam doesn't seem all that intolerable anymore! Compared to, you know, having his organs turned into scrambled eggs. ]

... Well. Thank God you know what you're doing.

[ But that's all the further he presses, for better or worse. It's reminded him of something else, anyway. ]

Oh. I forgot to ask, didn't I - what all did you find in there?

[abheirrant]

[Oh right, he never did explain exactly what it was he found in his inspection. It doesn't help that they were immediately distracted, as busybodies like them tend to be.]

Quite a lot, most of which I'm not entirely sure I can explain.

[But he'll certainly try. Back out comes the journal and the pen — he feels illustrating this on paper might be the simplest way to go about it.]

I didn't sense them at first, but the collection of them in your wrist alerted me to their presence. It was then I could feel them. All throughout you are... something. A lot of somethings.

[He draws an arm — it's not as artistic as his other illustrations by any means, but it'll do. He then puts a line of dots at the wrist, then adds a few more throughout the rest of the drawing.]

When channeling through you, my energy rippled off them like a stream against the rocks in a riverbed.

[He adds some lines around the dots in the arm to represent the aforementioned ripples.]

I think one reason I did not detect them before is that they're more like this...

[He adds a lot more dots. Then more. Then even more dots. 50 DKP minus.]

[superposition]

[ Qubit comes and leans over his shoulder as he draws. Once again, the vague wording doesn't help him much, and he has no idea what this could indicate in any event, but it sounds like cause for concern. ]

And that's not... normal, I take it. [ Just a wild guess. He studies the letters tattooed inside his wrist again, but he can barely make them out. Is it the lighting? ]

What are they, though? Some kind of... foreign contaminant?

[abheirrant]

I'm not sure. Once I knew what I was looking for, I felt them all throughout you.

[He caps his pen, tapping it to the front of his mask in a way that says he might chew it if not for the fabric barrier.]

There are ones that seem to protect you, but I'm not certain what these others are for, whether they do much of the same, or something else entirely... or if they're the cause of your memory loss.

[superposition]

[ Qubit nods, resting a hand on his chin. ] Could be, yeah. I'll look into it. [ Somehow or other. He'll figure something out. ]

... What do you mean, "protect me," though?

[abheirrant]

They— oh.

[Oh that's right, he hasn't really explained what it was he tried on Qubit earlier, and he's not entirely sure how well an explanation will go over with a Qubit who doesn't even remember him. Missing memory or not, he's still an inquisitive individual, and he came to Carlisle for answers. Their previous rapport and trust for one another was all he had to go on, and Carlisle isn't sure how comfortable he is betraying that when asked so directly, especially if it may be a case where the somethings protecting his mind are the cause for his amnesia. Carlisle just doesn't know, and the only one who may be able to figure it out is Qubit himself.

And he can only do that if he has as much information as possible. Carlisle hesitates, twisting the pen in his hands.]

From an aural compulsion — someone stripping you of your will so that you would do their bidding. I already knew it would not affect you — you yourself informed me of that long ago — but I wanted to see how those somethings coursing through you would react.

[superposition]

Wait. What?

[ Qubit's eyes widen as he parses the odd wording. ]

... You're talking about mind control.

[ For some reason, that's what upsets him most - more than learning that Carlisle could have liquefied his insides, or that there's some unknown contaminant infesting his entire body. Physical danger is one thing, he can face that without losing his head. But something about having his will stolen, losing control of his mind - it makes his skin crawl.

So where the last couple of revelations alarmed him, this is the one that horrifies him. He takes a step back, suddenly tense. ]

That's - you tried to use mind control on me?!

[abheirrant]

I—

[Carlisle cuts himself off as Qubit takes a step back from him, guilt and shame and injury immediately coloring what features are visible: his brows furrow, his eyes tightening in quiet, pleading desperation. He'd somehow hoped this would go better.]

I... not tried, Mister Qubit. I did. As I- as I said, I knew it wouldn't work, but I needed to see how it failed from the inside. And if it did suddenly work, that could have been a clue as to what happened to you. I'm trying to help, I- I wouldn't harm you. [Not intentionally.] Please believe me.

[superposition]

[ For a few uneasy seconds, Qubit doesn't answer, but - he softens, gradually, seeing the remorse in Carlisle's eyes. He knew it wouldn't work. He was troubleshooting, it could have been related. He's trying to help. He wouldn't knowingly harm me. ]

I... I do.

[ He sighs heavily, deliberately, pressing a hand to his forehead. ]

I do believe you. Sorry, I might have... overreacted.

[ Might have. He isn't totally convinced - it still feels chilling, and part of him even wants to be furious, for reasons he can't quite explain. But...

... he really wants to trust Carlisle. That's mostly a gut feeling, too, but if any other gut feelings want to supplant it, they'll have to carry a substantial burden of proof. ]

[abheirrant]

[Relieved as he may be, Carlisle shakes his head.]

I could have warned you what I was doing, but I chose not to. For that, I am sorry. Your reaction is not undeserved, and in truth, you have little reason to trust me, if my messages were all you had to go by.

[Maybe it's the memory loss, but Qubit took the fact Carlisle can compel people a lot harder this time around. He's sure the idea of losing his mind and free will is terribly sore at this time for Qubit, but given how much the technomancer values his cunning and intellect, perhaps it always has been. As losing himself is a very real fear for Carlisle, particularly these days, he can relate.]

[superposition]

[ You hit the nail on the head, Carlisle. And what he actually said isn't wrong, either. Qubit starts to relax somewhat, inwardly grateful for the validation. It's a legitimate fear; he's lost enough of his mind as it is.

But it's got him thinking. It's true, he doesn't have much reason to trust Carlisle. He's known the man for less than half an hour, from his perspective. As a person, he doesn't know the first thing about him. And the power at his disposal is terrifying.

Even so... ]

... Well, I'm not sure reason has much to do with that.

[ Which probably sounds weird, coming from him. Even Qubit himself seems a little perplexed. Reason is the only way he knows how to make sense of the world. His sole emotional refuge has been mathematics - the knowledge that there exist well-defined systems where everything fits neatly together. Yet he's basing his trust on a gut feeling? On intuition?

He takes a seat on the bed again, pressing his fingertips together in that way he does. He's just gonna think out loud for a second. ]

... Logically speaking, if you wanted to harm me, you've had ample opportunity. But you're trying to help, and you've been nothing but patient with me. Frankly, I have equally little reason not to trust you.

And... I'd rather trust you.

[abheirrant]

[There's something touching about what Qubit has to say, even if he's largely thinking aloud.

It's true: if Carlisle wanted to do harm, he absolutely could. He could do plenty of harm. It has not escaped him that even before his death, he had an immense, dangerous power at his disposal, a powerful, magical gift fitting of his bloodline. The energy he uses to heal is merely the opposite side of the coin from the necrotic ones animating him; his control over them in life gave birth to his Revenant form, allowing him mastery over them even in death. The skill with which he mends flesh and bone could easily be used to twist and manipulate a body under his control, regardless of if his victim was alive, allowing him to create aberrations more fitting of nightmares than a colony. He's done so before, albeit by accident.

But while he could do harm, he hasn't. He is trying to help, and if that's evidence enough for Qubit to want to trust him, it should be enough for Carlisle, too. He spent a lifetime of not believing himself capable of anything beyond his work: he was the failure of the Longinmouth line, after all. Thus far, he's spent much of his unlife doing the same, only able to see the horrors he could commit unintentionally than his capacity for good, whatever his form. Others have seen it, and tried to get him to do the same, but it's a process, one he's working on bit by bit... even if he is currently living at the barn to get away from people because he fears what his presence could do to them.

While this Qubit doesn't remember the many times Carlisle has faltered before him — when he's lost his temper and fallen in line with his Revenant nature, raised the dead around him without an ounce of control, question whether or not he had any worth left as the very kind of abomination he abhors most — it still means an incredible amount that he wants to trust Carlisle. He'd rather trust him than not.]

I... thank you, Mister Qubit. I will continue to do my best to not betray that trust. And hopefully, you will one day recall why it is you promised to contact me upon your return from the maze rather than someone else.

[He isn't sure how else to put what he's feeling into words. Emotions are so strong to him these days: when one feels little else, what he does experience is seemingly magnified, both the good and the bad.]

Regardless of... well. [The mind-control thing, as he says with a vague gesture.] Those particular somethings seem to protect your mind from outward intrusion. Perhaps your memory is still in there, simply locked away, awaiting the key.

[superposition]

[ Qubit rests his fingers against his mouth, nodding. That's another good point - that prior to entering the maze, he must have known Carlisle would care whether or not he came back. He must have trusted him with that information. So he's actually vouched for him himself, in a roundabout way. This isn't the last surprise Carlisle has in store for him, he can feel it, but... he means well. He's a friend, and he's trying to help. That's what's most important.

... Anyway, back on topic. They have learned something from all this, at least. Whatever else these "somethings" inside him do, they're protecting his mind from...

Qubit perks up suddenly, realizing something. ]

Wait wait wait. Go back a second. If that's true - that they're protecting me - then that actually narrows it down, doesn't it? That is - [ He springs to his feet, reenergized. ] - whatever it is they're protecting me from, specifically, we can probably rule that out as the cause!

[abheirrant]

[Memory issues or not, it's good to know Qubit is still himself in the fact that he's quick to keep moving, focusing on what information they've garnered and what they can learn from it. It takes him a second to parse out exactly what it is he's suggesting, but he nods regardless.]

I suppose. Whatever they're protecting you from would be an indirect cause at best, but I suppose in trying times like these, we must accept what progress we can.