Values

[workthroughit]

The desk is back in the Nexus again. And the owner of it is once more behind it, hands folded primly in front of him. Set off to the side is a fountain pen and a pad of paper. The banker's light and the metronome rest on the desk as well, though both are turned off. The snow is cleared in a neat three foot circumference around his seat, and though he's in just a dress shirt and sweater vest, the cold doesn't seem to bother the doctor one bit.

"I wonder," Dr. Hill begins in his usual northern European accent, "What do you, as a person, value more? Honesty? Or loyalty?"

A simple question, really.

Comments

[rekindledtitan]

Her gaze locks onto him at that: she's giving him a hard look, unsure of what he's implying. Bristling visibly at the possibility she's being somehow... neglectful? Cowardly?

"If we run across a cache of Golden Age files about it, I'll give them to the cryptarchs and the Warlocks and whoever else thinks they want to know. Whoever thinks it'll make them whole. But that's not likely to happen. And until then I don't have the means to decipher anything. Besides, what does it matter, when what I want and what I was built for are in alignment anyway?"

Not... not that she's really checked. Either of those last things.

[workthroughit]

"But that's the issue, isn't it. The catch 22. Do you want to do it by your own will? Or do you want to do it because that's all you were made for? That's quite the stumper! Something that'd keep the more introspective up at night, certainly.

"But by all means, just keep your head down. Keep being the good soldier. That's easier, isn't it?"

[rekindledtitan]

"I don't have to." Her fingers are clenching and one hand drops to the mark trailing from her hip, as if to remind herself the cloth is there. It's about the only solid thing with no counterpart in a previous life. "If the cause wasn't worthy, I wouldn't serve it. I'd- well, I'd fight it."

...Battle is simpler. The point where everything falls into place, whatever its source. Programming, desire, orders, memory- everything converges cleanly. Feels just right. But that doesn't mean she's a mindless kind of weapon. Doesn't mean her motivations belong to anyone but her. She's not fighting this war just because it's the one she found when she woke up.

She's sure of that.

She wonders if such impressions can be programmed. If they'd even need to be. Clever people, those ancients of the Golden Age...

[workthroughit]

He sighs and leans back in his chair again, threading his fingers together. "I suppose this will always be the unique anxiety of being created by another, isn't it. I don't mean by methods of birth, but actually crafted.

"Food for thought, I suppose? Something to take with you next time you go and get your orders, hm?"

[rekindledtitan]

"I keep telling you, sitting and wondering isn't going to give me any answers." Difficult to sway, indeed. "What do you know about being created anyway, doctor?"

A title she hasn't even questioned: he sounds like a doctor and he didn't correct her - good enough, right?

[workthroughit]

Dr. Hill smiles.

Chuckles.

Then laughs.

"Ahahahah! Oh, what do I know! What do I know indeed!"

[rekindledtitan]

She folds her arms, gives him a very hard stare. "...Going to share the joke?"

Because that's rude. Also, unfair.

[workthroughit]

He settles down, tapering into fitful giggles behind a fist, waving off her question.

"Oh no, no. Nothing, it's nothing. I'm just very, very empathetic, of course! And it's my job to consider the hard questions of the psyche."

[rekindledtitan]

"Riight." It's not drawn out in sarcasm: that's the sound of suspicion that something's not right. She just can't quite find grounds worth challenging him on. "Pretty sure this is one area where training won't help you. But good luck with the rest."

[workthroughit]

"Oh certainly! One of the reasons I field these questions in the Nexus. Just honing the craft, as it were. Getting a feel for the workings of this place. And you've been very helpful in that respect. Thank you, Blaze."

[rekindledtitan]

"Uh-huh. Then I guess you're welcome... what's your name, doctor?"

[workthroughit]

"Dr. Hill. Dr. Alan Hill. Psychoanalyst and therapist." He stands and offers a business card! Not that he pulled it from a pocket or even had it in his hand before this. It simply is.

"I have a practice set up here in the Commercial District, should you ever wish to chat further."

[rekindledtitan]

She cocks her head - she definitely didn't miss that. She takes the card apparently just to inspect curiously. "Nice trick. Doubt I'll be paying you any calls, but... maybe we'll see you around."

That 'we' is explained, of course, as she turns to go, absently passing off the card to the little Ghost who peeps out from behind her at Dr. Hill for just a moment, then vanishes with the card.