sharp_as_knives (
sharp_as_knives) wrote2015-01-25 04:50 pm
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Hannibal's house, Sunday
Hannibal set the large glass of home-brewed dark ale on the end table, along with the tiny pork pies and pickle and the remote control for the music system.
And, because he could surf Google and iTunes as well as anyone, and it never paid to be too predictable, he was playing (not too loudly) Opeth.
He was even wearing a comfortable sweater and slacks instead of a suit. He was picking his battles today, and his battle was how greasy not to make fish and potatoes! Since they'd been so rudely interrupted by eels earlier.
[OOC: Waiting on one, but totally open!]
[OOC the second: Specifics of Jono's story NFB, please!]
And, because he could surf Google and iTunes as well as anyone, and it never paid to be too predictable, he was playing (not too loudly) Opeth.
He was even wearing a comfortable sweater and slacks instead of a suit. He was picking his battles today, and his battle was how greasy not to make fish and potatoes! Since they'd been so rudely interrupted by eels earlier.
[OOC: Waiting on one, but totally open!]
[OOC the second: Specifics of Jono's story NFB, please!]
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//Three lifetimes,// he confirmed. //Three bloody lifetimes all crammed up there. Gets a little busy sometimes.//
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"The versions of you that you were last Spring - do those stay with you as well?"
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Was there a mobster heart beating in that chest, Hannibal?
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No, that was in his basement.Hannibal thought about it for a moment. "Some of it. I made a conscious effort when we first returned to ourselves to file away anything that might be useful or interesting."
Some of Hanna's memories of a female perspective would be useful the next time the island switched him, and the next time he had to help or hunt a woman. And she'd used different hunting techniques, too. The artist Hannibal gave him a few precious, foggy memories of his grown sister. The mobster gave him very little, as it happened; it served more to make him appreciate his uncle.
"I remember being those others, and how it felt. But I don't feel like them anymore."
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Hannibal...rather thought there might be other things at work there.
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He closed his eyes and shook his head.
//I feel that I'd be dimming me. Those things have been so thoroughly a part of me too, Hannibal... Neither of them are real, but here in my head, they're all as much me as that first life was. Blew Gayle halfway to hell three times in my head, came to America three times after that. Twice by air for the chance at a better life. Once on a ship as a prisoner. I loathed myself and I was proud of myself and I was a bloody survivor because I had no other choice. How do I pick? I only lived one of those lives, but that boy who hid in corners and resented everything he was isn't the only me. I'm the sum of all of those parts, now.//
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"May I ask you some questions? They may or may not be easy ones," he cautioned.
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There probably wasn't harm in asking.
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"This Weapon X program - they had technology to help you control your abilities. Were there unacceptable side effects?"
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That was a pretty big side effect right there, if you asked Jonothon.
//It... held me back,// he explained. //I could let loose under the proper circumstances, though I'm not entirely convinced that even with the mind-control, they weren't using that tech to keep me on a short leash. Beyond that, no, the job they did with it was practically flawless. A lot of it was artificial, but it was a rather seamless addition to me all the same.//
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He hesitated for a moment before pressing on, actually giving an uncomfortable little squirm. Fine then, might as well be out with it.
//I've... got no way of really replicating what it is they created,// he added. //I can't really find the resources they used, and technologically, they're well beyond most anything I know. Besides that, their methods of research are...// His hands balled into fists. //... not exactly humane. But if I were to figure out some manner of parallel to that tech, you had better believe I'd find a way to harness it. Maybe not for the same purpose, though. Maybe I'd patch it in to my old collar, instead, as a more reliable power source than my battery packs and as a way to control it without a voice. I haven't accidentally leveled anything I wasn't intending to in decades. For the level of control their tech offered me, I think... I think I have that more or less handled.//
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"I am firmly of the belief that you can learn enough control to keep your body whole should you want to do so," he said quietly but firmly. "I also firmly believe that control will only come once you've come to more acceptance of yourself. But I wouldn't ask anyone with a broken leg to walk without a crutch at first, either."
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That was the nicest way he could think of to put "blowing yourself apart".
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//While I was with Weapon X, it was an opening in my chest,// Jono clarified with a small, thoughtful nod. //On one of those strange weekends when I was somebody else, it was a similar setup. Apparently that version of myself carved his own chest open before worse damage could be done.//
Jono would have called that boy a lucky bastard, except that as far as he could tell, he lived in the Age of Apocalypse. And. No.
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He didn't mean your legs, no, but he was still stroking one comfortingly with his free hand.
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It was such an appealing prospect. Become whole again. Perform damage control. Stay whole again.
//It would probably work.//
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It was a trick question, Jono. You'd already said it would work. Unless you wanted to admit you didn't deserve it?
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//... Sneaky bugger aren't you? I've got absolutely no sensible reason to say no, now.//
There was no malice in that accusation, at least. If anything, Jono sounded at least grudgingly impressed that he'd been so magnificently backed into a corner, and hadn't realized until it was too late to nip it in the bud.
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He rewarded Jono with a long drink of beer. "I did warn you that I fought dirty."
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//Well, cheating aside... it is something I'd like to try. Provided it works, it would be... worth it. It would be worth it, in spite of all of my inhibitions. I'm at least self-aware enough to know that they don't all come from a healthy place.//
Not much of his self-image really came from a healthy place. He'd be the first to admit it.
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"I don't expect it will be easy, but I'm certain you can do it," Hannibal said. "And you never shy from difficult tasks when they're for someone that you care about." You just needed to care about yourself as much, Jono.
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A beat.
//... Which I admit isn't exactly the optimal way to approach this.//
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