shellphones | (no subject)

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Type: Accidental Video
Sender ID: 🖕nunya🖕(Sidestep)
To: Public
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Warnings: Mention of death and torture. Threads are likely to end up going deeply traumatic places.

(It's a typical day on Nogard, though many people who see this might be elsewhere.

Many have probably heard by now that Chris is dead. Has been dead for several days, in fact, after being captured and tortured by Ganon.

Except... they're not?

That's definitely a shot of a very panicked looking Chris running... somewhere, not paying attention to the shellphone clutched in their hand or noticing that it's recording.

Several people can be heard yelling in surprise in the background as Chris darts past them.

...The fuck are they even running from? It doesn't sound like they're being chased.

The hand holding the shellphone bumps into something, and the video cuts out.)

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[ He feels a little bad, and more than a little on edge, but not actually ashamed. He does glance between Chris and the suit. He's pretty sure he's missing a lot, but it's hard to miss the general tension. ]

Hey now. You can be mad at me for bein' tricksy all you like, but don't be mean to your... what the hell is it, anyway?

[ Armor moving around on its own isn't the weirdest thing he's seen, here or at home, but it's still pretty strange. ]

(And well, they're honestly glad enough for the subject change they'll just give him the answer.)

Telepathic interface. Five boosted rat brains networked together. (They glance at the suit.) I didn't know they could take over like that.

[ Huh. He supposes that explains the scurrying sensation. And it would seem the 'rat brains' part doesn't bother him nearly as much as the telepathy. His world has enough body horror based technology that he'd have barely been surprised if it used human instead of animal parts. ]

...Okay then. Don't be mean to your uh, rats. They helped us find you.

[ Maybe not in time, but still. They were pretty clearly worried. The idea it's something like a pet actually makes sense. ]

(They give him the finger.)

Fuck you, Dick. (You don't tell them what to do.

They look at the suit, which comes over and bends down so they can open up some of the plating and pop out the telepathic interface. It's a tiny cylindrical chamber, and they'll carefully tuck it into one of their various chest pockets.

...They'll need to find a way to move the suit, but right now they don't really care. Everyone knows anyway.)

[ And at this point this behavior doesn't surprise him in any way, so he mostly just rolls his eyes.

He watches a little bit curiously, but doesn't comment or ask why they're doing that.

He has a lot of questions, but maybe none of them are the best place to start. He'll try a different approach. ]

...You want some strawberries?

(The rat-king snuggles happily into its customary place in the back of their mind.

They stare at Faulkner suspiciously at that offer.)

...No.

(Their stomach is growling. They haven't eaten since their revival.)

You sure about that? They're good.

[ Look, they've made him eat when he was stressed and didn't want to. Apparently they're going to be subjected to the same treatment. ]

I'm sure.

(The problem here is that Faulkner isn't half as good at bullying as they are.

...Though it's entirely possible that this could just turn into an "eating strawberries while insisting they don't want the strawberries" scenario.)

...Uh-huh. Well, how about you come chat while I pick 'em anyway. I was about to do that. Guess I don't have help now.

[ He says this last part mildly, more an observation than anything. Though he definitely didn't mind pawning off tasks on the... rats. ]

I'm not talking to you.

(They can read his mind, they know what he's trying to do.)

Suppose I can't make you. But you really should at least eat somethin'.

[ He's worried if he pushes too much they'll just run off. Along with being worried about them and... lots of other worries. He's trying not to think about most of them. Which unfortunately probably means they'll just be aware of him thinking about what he's thinking. ]

(They cross their arms, looking away.)

I'm not even a real person.

(The fuck do you even care, asshole?)

What's a real person anyway? Cause I've had to adjust my definition plenty since gettin' here.

[ Which they know, given they made fun of him for having to work on it. Maybe that makes more sense in retrospect. ]

Someone... made you, right? From scratch, like an angel? Or like the professor?

[ It occurs to him after he says this that he doesn't actually know for certain how much Chris already knew about Turo. ]

Not me, clearly, if you ask anyone from my world!

(The words are spat out with a snarl.

So he knows about Turo then.)

Grew me from the remains of some kid the cops murdered, apparently. Brewed a whole big batch of us in oversized fishtanks and dosed us with drugs til we turned into something useful or died.

[ He can't help flinching a little. He's not sure what to say to any of that; he can't do anything about it and he can't argue the fact it all seems horrifying.

He's been having nightmares just based on the glimpses he saw.

He's also not sure if the added context makes it make any more sense to him, or not. If they were made from a dead person are they more like a saint after all?

He doesn't actually ask, though he supposes they'll know he's wondering all the same. ]

Can't pretend I know what any of that is like. But I'm not from your world, and you seem as much like a person as anyone.

[ Whether they're a person he trusts is largely a separate issue. ]

A creepy, gross one, maybe. (Yeah, they see those thoughts, and it stings.

...This is why they don't tell people they're a telepath. And especially don't tell people they're an alpha telepath.

They know they're disgusting and inhuman and their powers are creepy and invasive, they don't need other people telling them.)

[ The inhuman part doesn't seem to bother him that much; he really has been working on that. But the telepathy does not play well with his general paranoia. Nor does the idea they used to be working for Ganon, even if it would be fairly hypocritical to judge. ]

Never said that. I'll give you really annoying.

[ He is trying to break the tension a little. Whether or not it's likely to work. ]

You don't have to.

(Though they're taking his thoughts in the most uncharitable way possible.)

[ He huffs a little a scrubs a hand down his face. He's doing his best here. Kind of, at least. ]

Look, if I didn't like you at all I wouldn't have come to get you or told you where your rat-thing was.

[ Even if that was also an excuse to talk to them. ]

(And they're being their worst. Is it really surprising?)

Whatever. (Just because he's stupid now doesn't mean he'll be stupid forever. They know he'll turn against them eventually.)

[ It's not, but this is... getting nowhere. ]

Alright, well, you can glare at me just as easy while I get things done, I guess.

[ And he'll head back towards the gardens, at least if they actually follow. ]

(And they will! If only because leaving now would feel like letting him have the last word. Like losing.

Congrats, Faulkner, you've acquired a shitty immature child!)

Whatever.

Uh-huh.

[ He'll go ahead and start watering plants, and various other little tasks. At some point he'll pause to eat a strawberry in front of them; it does in fact look pretty good. Judging by his general response it also tastes good, which he's at least mildly proud of. ]

(They scoff, and don't say anything, instead just sulking around like a creeper. A creeper who won't help with anything, so they're also an asshole.

They do an admirable job of resisting the lure of strawberries, despite how hungry they are. Faulkner eating one does not make them crack, but they do sulk at him, as if angry that he gets to have strawberries when they don't even though it's pretty clear they are, in fact, welcome to have some strawberries and it's their own stubborn refusal keeping them from enjoying the delights of fruit freshly picked from a garden.)

...You can have one you know.

[ He knows they'll probably insist on refusing, but come on. Just eat a fucking strawberry Chris, they are partly for you.

He even mentioned that to Keigo before when he was planting them. Though he didn't spell out the fact that it was somewhat meant to be a peace offering. ]

Need a second opinion on whether they taste normal. Still gettin' used to the whole using magic.

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CW: I keep forgetting to warn like a moron, but this thread is likely to get worse

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