dualisnet | UN: presage

[Also good that Murmur had a pretty good memory for mazes, though the chalk definitely simplified things! Good thinking, Jack.]

Are there additional threats we should be concerned about?

[Suddenly the angel that just Elsa'd the hell out of Iterations was being very cagey about threats. What could that be about? He was making a point to memorize what he could of the twisting, turning tunnels all the while. As well as tracking those magical lines likely invisible to Jack's eyes.]

After you.

[Don't worry he has no intention of getting lost, he'll stick with her.]

[jack hums lightly as she considers her answer, casting light on the path ahead of them as she begins down the path.]

Not that I know of? I came across a skeleton once or twice, one of the people who lived here at the time Skynet was created and then got mass murdered, but it didn’t do anything but look dead. [she shrugs.] I haven’t even seen any rats down here, like you’d expect.

[she pauses and glances over to murmur with a faint smirk.]

Why? You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?

Nothing dangerous in a long-evacuated vessel.

[He confirms. Bones weren't more dangerous than a tripping hazard, a corpse only to mortals for the possibility of disease. That wasn't what he was concerned about.]

I have observed the conspicuous lack of living organisms in and around the city. Presumably our captor's doing?

[There's something very off-putting about any area not full of life. Even in urban settings there would be animals adapted to the environment, insects in every dark corner, rodents, cats, birds. And yet here there was nothing. Frankly, he didn't like it.

Her comment earned a huffed laugh.]

Light or dark, dangers remain ever the same. Only difference is in how quickly one perceives them.

[Which, to answer her question, no he wasn't.]

However I must confess I will require your further assistance, [He added after a long pause of consideration, beginning to roll up his sleeves as they moved. Contrasting quite distinctly with the middle-school librarian look he had going on his arms were covered in tattoos. Elegantly geometric designs that one might be forgiven for confusing as being tribal of some kind.] I am possessed of a particular gift rare among my brethren, that of clairvoyance. Such abilities ever come with their burdens, and mine is being wholly consumed and separated from the present while I seek the past and future. I'll need you to watch over me.

[For as casual and monotone as he sounded, it was a huge request. To trust someone he'd only barely just met with his protection was kind of a huge deal for an angel. Yet somehow he felt that Jack might just be trustworthy enough to pull it off.]

Edited 2020-10-07 16:24 (UTC)

Oh, I’m sure - this whole place is a rat maze on a grandiose scale. I mean, there’s a zoo and a cat café, and sometimes people end up with a pet, but there aren’t any strays on the streets like you’d expect in a city this size. Hell, even Omaha gets a random mountain lion every so often, and it’s not anywhere near as big as this place.

[she pauses at an intersection, flashing the light up ahead down one path, but stops and turns to murmur when he makes his request. jack gives him a quizzical, almost shocked look - nobody has ever trusted her with something so important before, and he’s only just met her, maybe an hour ago. the tattoos garner a quick glance, too, but she’ll ask about that later.]

You want me to spot you while you’re having visions.

[she doesn’t phrase it as a question or ask if he’s serious; he’s already made his stance clear on that sort of thing. jack is just taken entirely off guard by the fact that he’d ask her for this kind of help.]

Yeah ... of course, I can do that. Are there special rules or any weird things I’d need to watch out for?

No strays, no pigeons, not even cockroaches. How does one eradicate cockroaches?

[They're specifically designed to be nearly impossible to eliminate! It's alarming, is what it is. Urban areas should be teeming with life, like all reaches of Earth or any other life sustaining planet. This are was wrong, horrifically so.

He paused as well, watching her with a light air of expectation. He realized it was quite the request, and so soon after they'd met, but he was hopeful he wasn't misplacing this budding trust. Jack had taken things well so far, seemed uniquely honest. He had faith he wasn't making a poor decision here.

At her question he simply nodded, awaiting her answer. That was, roughly, the gist of it. When she finally did answer he offered a faint smile, which is a lot coming from the emotionally mute angel.]

No, not this time. I haven't sensed the presence of any other Celestials in the area, I think we are safe from their snooping. Should something arrive, simply shout, I should be able to hear you. If not, give me a shove, I only ask you refrain from touching my skin.

[Uninvited visions suck, hell invited visions suck. It's just part of the job.]

[one eradicates cockroaches by being a murderous, tyrannical sentient ai with control issues, apparently. the almost-complete lack of people makes the city even more starkly unnatural. it's like - well, it's like some of the nightmares jack tends to give people, actually.]

Got it, [she says, with a nod and a faintly pleased smile. maybe it's fast to be asked for such a favor, but jack finds herself unexpectedly happy about it all the same.] Are you going to ... have a vision right now?

[There's something especially wrong about eliminating one of the most resilient forms of life to exist. Murmur's offended. The lack of people also makes it even more creepy, as yet again one of the more resilient forms of life, for one, and the ones typically responsible for building cities in the first place.

If ever Murmur wanted to know what a dystopia was like, he need but look around.]

No, [He shook his head.] I can usually control when they happen, so I will wait until we reach a sigil. I am merely preparing myself.

[The experience was always unpleasant, he had to hype himself up for it.]

[jack has never had visions herself, nor has she met anyone with the ability until now, but she knows the tropes well enough to guess that they’re an intense experience - especially if the experience comes with a side of disorientation, which is what sounds likely from what murmur’s asked of her. preparation would be a key step, she guesses - just like with any sort of complex magick she might work.]

Is that what the ink’s about? [she gestures to his tattooed arms, squinting to make out the designs in the dim light.] That’s not tribal, is it?

[Oh, he's ready for it to be intensely unpleasant. It's been some time since he's willfully volunteered for such a thing, and it's never particularly enjoyable. Murmur just hopes he's reapplied his protections adequately since having to secure a new vessel.]

Perceptive, you're correct. It's pre-written spellwork that assists in both focus, and defense. To filter out unnecessary noise or interference, and increase efficiency. [Her question earns a puzzled look.] Tribal? Of which tribe?

[There have been a whole lot of tribes through history.]

[jack looks very pleased with herself when murmur confirms her guess as correct.]

That is really impressive. I have a spell tattoo too, but it’s much smaller scale. Did it myself, stick-and-poke style - that’s actually what I was researching when I came across all that stuff I mentioned earlier about the God-Machine. I was looking for something specific about any connections there might be between magick and technology, any spells or charms that would work at blocking technological surveillance, but I couldn’t find anything that was useful long-term. [she shrugs lightly.] So I went back to the ol’ drawing board, created a sigil, and stuck it on me permanently. It was pretty handy back home, but it’s literally saved my life here. Big Brother drags all of the meatsacks off for execution and disposal after a year, and I’ve been here almost three. As far as I can tell, the machines have no idea I exist.

[and that’s how she likes it, frankly. jack’s always been more comfortable out of sight.]

Tribal art in tattoos usually means some type of Polynesian - Hawaiian, Samoan, Maori, and so on. They’re traditional tattoo styles tied to those cultures that’ve been appropriated by white people, usually dumbass dudebros who just think it looks edgy and cool. [jack rolls her eyes.] Anyway, it’s totally disrespectful, and I would’ve needed to have words with you about it if that’d been the case.

[luckily, mumur’s off the hook. jack shines her flashlight down the other path and points in that direction, indicating for murmur to follow her. once she’s through the intersection, she pauses to mark another arrow on the wall with her chalk and shine the light on a symbol painted higher up on the wall - an anatomical heart.]

There was a resistance group here that used these tunnels pretty extensively, and they painted these hearts to indicate a useful path in an intersection. In case you ever feel like wandering around down here on your own, [she adds, as an explanation for why she’s pointing this out.]

Edited 2020-10-11 02:58 (UTC)

[Oh! They have something in common. Designing their own stick-and-poke tattoos. His required some assistance to finish, of course, given the lack of flexibility mortal vessels have. Much of the work he did himself.]

Given the success you've had thus far I am certain, with enough time, a more permanent method may be discovered. Ideally the sigils we're researching tonight will lend some insight into that very subject.

[Using magic to bypass technology. It was a good hunch, given that the Iterations couldn't function down there. There must be a reason. As for her explanation he gave a huffed laugh.]

Ah, you mean the very same type who get words they cannot read printed on themselves claiming they mean something like "courage" or "soul" only to find later it meant "toilet"?

[Yes he's met those.]

No, fortunately this vessel was largely unmarred when I found it. While some of this work is indeed built upon principles honed by human minds, I do not believe geometry falls under an offensive category. The rest is angelic, the designs themselves the work of centuries of trial and error.

[Except for his own sigil but he doesn't need to bring that up. He simply continues to follow as she leads. The conversation has helped to keep him distracted enough to not work himself up over much, not that he'd let any of that display outwardly but the heaviness of the air did press upon him. The tingle of past events, years of horrors and atrocities pooling their collective energy down into these dark tunnels. Even without risking touching the walls he knew the task ahead would be deeply unsettling.

He pauses at the heart symbol, nodding at her words.]

Just like the one outside. Given the current state of things I expect that this resistance group met with an unfortunate fate?

[Nicest way to put it.]

[jack laughs quietly at murmur’s description.]

Yep, the very same. Serves them right for getting a terrible tattoo, in my opinion. I really don’t get why it’s so hard to leave stuff along that doesn’t belong to you, but cultural appropriation is everywhere you look.

[when the subject of what befell the heart comes up, her mood takes a notable shift down, likely palpable even in the dark.]

Yeah, if you want to call getting rounded up and publicly executed in barbaric ways “an unfortunate fate.” [she scowls.] I didn’t like the Heart - they were a bunch of showboating amateurs, and I told them as much when they tried to recruit me. But as a witch, I’m contractually obligated to be pissed off when someone’s burned at the stake.

[her booted foot finds a rock in her path, and she kicks it angrily ahead of her.]

I wish they’d listened to me about toning down the theatrics. I’ve done protest organizing before, so I have a good idea of what works and what doesn’t. Scare tactics don’t usually go over well.

[He does have to chuckle at that, ah yes. Those ones are something else. Entertaining, briefly, but ultimately it was short lived. They weren't generally intelligent enough to offer stimulating conversation.

Oh, that mood shift was very palpable. Especially considering he was an empath, so he very much felt it. In this case he would have felt it regardless, the shift was so potent.]

I see this AI takes after the worst tendencies of mortal kind.

[He murmured quietly. So, the Head wasn't one to toy with. Which was fine, Murmur wasn't one to make empty threats nor boasts. Any warning he offered he fully intended to back up with action, as Jack had already witnessed a small piece of his capabilities.]

I do not imagine an artificial being to be particularly susceptible to fear and intimidation. Particularly that which may as well be a bluff.

Oh, they weren't bluffing. They liked to set off homemade bombs in strategic places - train stops, public gatherings, that sort of thing. They weren't trying to intimidate the machines - they wanted to shake up the people who were still people, get them to join so they could put their heads together and come up with a plan to take the Head down. Why they thought that level of violence was likely to bring people to their side is a complete mystery. As you can see, it didn't work, and now they're all dead.

[all except the bartender from earlier, and she clearly had no designs on continuing the heart's work. and maybe it's a little hypocritical for jack to criticize the heart's methods, considering she also uses fear as a tool to show humans something they should know. but there's nothing to be done about it now. the heart is dead, the city is deserted, only a few people remain and they all know the nature of this place. she shrugs, and crosses through another intersection, pointing to the leftmost path for mumur to follow, pausing to draw another arrow underneath the painted heart.]

Weren't you going to tell me a story, before we were rudely interrupted by Iterations?

...

[Yes he is most certainly shooting her an incredulous look. That... yeah that sounded like one of the worst thought out plans he'd ever heard.]

So they tried to... terrorize people into assisting them, with a plan they didn't even yet have?

[Yes, listen, it's all very sad when mortals die and all that, but honestly that just sounded stupid. Fear can be a powerful motivator, but like any tool there were proper ways to use it. Spontaneous acts of poorly explained violence upon the group you're beseeching for help is not one of them.

Another mark, another heart. Those might come in handy next time he decides to come down to do a bit of research on his own.]

Ah, yes, did you wish to hear more of the Thresholded angel?

[she nods, and returns his look with her own thoroughly unimpressed expression.]

Yup, exactly. Not the most well-thought-out strategy, obviously. You can see why I wasn’t so keen to jump on that bandwagon. I mean, I’m all about resistance efforts and overthrowing oppression, but you have to be smart about it. People like that are the same kind of people who give anarchists a bad name. Plus, they were running on a totally authoritarian hierarchy, and I don’t do well in those sorts of power structures.

[another intersection, another path chosen with another painted heart, and jack marks another arrow in chalk.]

I do, actually, want to hear about the Thresholded angel. You’ve got me very curious about what happened.

A well executed rebellion can significantly alter the course of history, many times they are they only way to implement a much needed drastic change. [He shakes his head.] Disappointing.

[He's sometimes a fan of rebellions. Not ones so poorly formed and executed, however. It sounds like they only managed to hinder any progress that might have been made with the other people who had been captured.

By now he had picked up the pattern: Follow the hearts. Though right now he was mostly concerned with following Jack, who he did hope would also lead him back out given he expects his faculties will be somewhat compromised after he's finished with the heavier version of his work.]

Well, as you might expect the existence of a Celestial not bound by the laws of either the Eternal City nor the Halls of Morning was quick to cause a stir. Both rising to action to bring the being to heel. Of course, her consent was never a matter of concern.

[Celestials aren't very good at that whole taking choice into account thing.]

Of course, fate would not set her upon an insurmountable task without assistance. For her feeble prayer could be heard by one, an angel so far fallen from grace he could scarcely hold up his wings any longer. Not the most useful of guardians, to say the least.

[jack frowns as murmur begins the story; she already doesn’t like the direction it’s heading. attempting to control another sentient being doesn’t sit well with her on principle, and the fact that murmur refers to the being in question as her sounds like an all-too-familiar case of patriarchal misogyny. but she’s no expert on celestial culture.]

Was she actually doing anything harmful, or was this just a case of “you’re different so you must be controlled”?

[Oh don't worry, it gets worse. Though she might be surprised that at least in this instance her gender didn't play a large role in the reaction: Celestials are just terrible to each other wholesale.]

Her "crime" was being a Celestial with a soul, thus granted true free-will and lacking alignment. Hell wanted her for power, to corrupt an angel's soul would prove a huge boon. Heaven wanted to put her in line, where all angels belong. So they believe. They do not tolerate dissent, having forgotten that since she was born mortal she would reasonably be exempt from the same laws we are typically bound to.

[For what it's worth, though his tone doesn't change pitch very much and monotone seems to be his permanent default, there was just the slightest hint of disgust in his voice. Very slightly, but it was there. Clearly Murmur didn't agree with either side here.]

So, as far as the Eternal City was concerned she needed to be brought in line and properly trained as an angel, or be eliminated. Rogues are not tolerated. Unfortunate then that her role was more complex than that, for she was a herald to change. Just as the war and first Fall permanently altered the course by which we act, her existence opened a new door.

[yeah, sorry, that's not a crime. as one of the begotten - a monster - not to mention a woman, a lesbian, and a witch, jack has a short fuse for oppression and as much empathy as she can call up for those stuck in an unfair situation like this. she's angry on this poor ensouled angel's behalf, and she stops abruptly, turning to murmur.]

You do know this is super fucked up, right? Like - aren't angels supposed to be the good guys in the cosmic scale?

[He paused when she stopped, expression still largely unreadable. This strange neutrality was just his way.]

I assure you I am distinctly aware. Heaven had lost it's way, too long have they secluded themselves in their lofty palace away from the horrors of the mortal world. Far too concerned with maintaining status quo, and control, than performing any genuine acts of good which they are so vaunted for.

[Oops did he get ranty? He got a bit ranty. There's a hint of emotion there, the frustration and fervor of one who has been fighting this very fight.]

Fear not, before you ask, I have not counted myself among their number for quite some time. Mine has ever been a different task, at times in opposition to my brothers. For what it's worth the girl's guardian did eventually pull his feather-brained head out of his ass and proceeded to demonstrate what it is to be just as is fitting for one of his station.

[One had to wonder just how things ever got that bad in the first place. And yes, that is an angel swearing. It doesn't happen often but he can!]

Edited 2020-10-13 11:29 (UTC)

Never been so glad to be an atheist, [she mutters, but seems to be taking murmur's answer in stride. the rantiness is appropriate, but jack does note it's a bit of a departure from his usual demeanor.]

So, what does that mean, you don't count yourself among them? You don't consider yourself an angel, or you just skipped out and haven't been back in a long time?

[He is a bit uncharitable toward his brethren. Then again, if it weren't for their failings then the suffering he put his beloved through would never had to come to pass. So... he has reason for the bitterness.]

The latter, it is undeniable that I am an angel. That does not mean I must bow to the whims of the Eternal City.

[There's a beat, as something she'd said he wanted to go back and touch on.]

You mentioned you believe we are the "good guys" in the grand scheme. That is not an adequate description for our function. First and foremost we are created to execute His will, swiftly and obediently without question. Whatever that will may be. It is humans who prescribe us with the mantle of "good". Indeed one could argue there are numerous roles we have played that would reject us from the qualifier of "good".

[Too philosophical? He's not sure.]

At the core of it all, however, is free will. Or the perceived lack thereof. With Father's long silence my brethren are left floundering, grasping at what few directives remain. Struggling to maintain a stranglehold of order on an otherwise chaotic existence. Given this, zealotry was to be expected.

[That is perhaps a more fair assessment of what's happened.]

[jack is silent, paying close attention to what murmur says. she decided at a young age that religion - especially her parents’ faith - had nothing to offer her, so she never sought out the details, just rejected it wholesale. it’s an entirely different perspective than what’s commonly said of christianity.]

Obedience without question is authoritarian bullshit. That’s how Nazis end up building an empire out of most of Europe and systematically murdering millions and millions of people.

[being an angel sounds like torture, jack thinks, if it’s under that stipulation - an existence of servitude in obedience without question. her earlier flare of anger has cooled to a low simmer, but now it’s not just for the wronged angel with a soul - it’s for murmur, too. he’s clearly not happy about the situation either.]

Well, you seem to have your head on straight, at least. How did that happen?

[There are things the humans get right, and plenty they do not. At the end of the day the rules that govern the angelic choirs were quite different from those expected of humans. That was one of the main sources of tension between them, though mankind knew little about it anymore. Angels held grudges for a very long time.]

Precisely. So you understand how it has come to pass that questioning alone is akin to heresy. In such an environment, extremism is the only possible outcome.

[At least she had more option to get out than he did. Her soul allowed her the liberty of choice, and in the end she chose neither. No one could blame her, least of all Murmur.

Her question earned a huffed, somewhat rueful laugh.]

The Sight is not a common gift among my brethren, I expect it grants me a unique perspective they are not privy to. Most are warriors, soldiers through and through. They have no need for intellectual pursuit, and see little value in studying the ways of mortals. We are... flawed beings. Proud, short-sighted. It is not uncommon to view mortals as lesser, and instead miss the valuable insights one might achieve through studying you. As long lived as we are we resist change by nature, but you grow and advance rapidly, never fearing to reach beyond your limits. It is through observing these patterns I have learned a great deal about the nature of life.

Both yours and ours.

[Ah, again he found himself in a strangely introspective state. This emotion he had no word for, it troubled him, yet perhaps it wasn't so terrible a thing to touch on subjects he'd never had the privilege of discussing with another. So very long has he only had himself for council.]

I apologize, this is likely more than you wanted to hear about for one evening. I do not often have the pleasure of genuine conversation.

[He's lonely.]

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