voice; un: eliasainsworth

[thornydisposition]

I believe I have some information that might be of use, or at least to consider.

[The voice is low and very even, having only the barest hint of a conversational cadence.]

My companion, Shuyi, and I managed to locate and capture Miz Poppy. We captured her and two of her Deemer companions, and as we began to take them back to Perdition's Rest, she had some very interesting things to say.

She reaffirmed that there was no way to safely separate a Taraxa from its host without the destruction of the latter. What is more troubling, however, was that she insisted that hers and her compatriots' mission of destruction was something which the TIMELINE.EXE asked of them.

Before we could deliver her back here, one of the other captured Deemers sacrificed himself so that she may escape in the confusion.

It is not my intention to offer this information in order to incite mass confusion or doubt, as it is quite possible she was lying. But I do not think we can completely discount that she might be telling the truth—or that she and her fellows are somehow deluded enough to believe that they are. It is, as I originally said, something to at the very least keep in mind.

Comments

[respired]

[ Koltira just looks puzzled. ]

You are nothing of the sort. You are an accident, like the rest of us.

[ Koltira finds it strange to listen to the others question and fuss over ALASTAIR, because--given his experience--it is not an organization with any particular hierarchy, nor any direction beyond the TIMELINE program in and of itself. Everyone here is in the exact same situation. What is there to rail against? What is there to distrust, apart from each other? Koltira considers himself separate from the team at large, mostly for their own safety, but ALASTAIR has his loyalty because this team is ALASTAIR. As are the other teams, all comprised of people in the same set of circumstances.

(But he doesn't know them, and so cares less for their wellbeing.) ]

[thornydisposition]

[It was simply not in Elias' nature to belong to anything. To an organization, to a country, or, hell, even to a race or a species. Throughout his long existence he had learned to set himself apart; a spare cog that did not seem to mesh with the machine of the world at any point of contact. In his dealings back home, he interacted but did not belong—did not seek to belong. He lived in England but he did not think of himself as English. He walked among the people in town, bought things of them and sold things to them, but he did not count himself as one of them. He helped the church with various problems they had with fae and aberrations, but their Lord would know he did not think of himself as one of them.

So even if he hadn't been forced into service by ALASTAIR without proper approach and consent, and even if his relationship with them was neutral or even positive, he would not think of himself as a part of them. It was just how his mental processes worked, a kind of mental exile he held himself to.]

You cannot force an individual into picking up a banner. It must be upon one's own volition.

[In his centuries he had watched kingdoms rise and fall. It had never been his place to interfere.]

For now, it is my volition to help as I see fit.

And nothing more.

[respired]

[ Bitterly, his ears folding back against either side of his head--like an agitated cat. ]

Not so, in my experience. But there is no force in this.

[ He was a slave for ten years--he knows from force. ]

We have no masters here. Our wills are not leashed. If we choose to do nothing, then that is a viable option. Albeit unproductive.

[thornydisposition]

[Starkly contrary to the conversation, Elias seems strangely interested in the gesture of irritation. Largely because... well, it was one he had never seen, largely studying the emotions of humans, and he was always intrigued by emotions, gestures, or expressions he had never seen.

Anyway.]

Just because they do not present you with a threat does not mean there is no force to it.

Individuals are forcibly extracted from their own familiar worlds and are practically ransomed for their involvement in dangerous missions in order to perhaps be returned, upon ALASTAIR's leisure. There are no agreements. There are no promises.

Even the concept of abstaining is an illusory one, as doing so would likely increase one's risk of death.

[In the end... they're just probably not going to agree on this, largely due to the completely understandable preconceptions they have coming from two very different worlds and backgrounds.]

A risk which should not have been posed to them unwillingly in the first place.