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Having been investigated at a reasonable length by those with an interest in doing so, Mark is officially permitted to travel the consilium grounds. Which is a heck of a lot more license to roam than he was given at his previous home, to be sure. Presently, he's slowly progressing his way through the arboretum, carefully inspecting every new species he happens upon. Which is a lengthy affair, since he seems to be including microorganisms, insects, and fungus on his list of things he's learning about first hand. It's uncanny how smoothly he moves and just how preternaturally he mimics human motion. There's still an uncanny valley there, but wow is it shallow. The arboretum is under heavier guard than usual, given the givens, but Mark doesn't seem to mind. Used to it, really.
The thing is, Fox does want to come see Mark. But she has duties to fulfill first, and she's brought one of her cadremates in order to help her with them. The unlucky (and valiant) six pigeons were splattered across the arboretum by Liezel's full-auto gunfire, and the remaining fifty-eight have been rehomed to proper roosts. So Fox is in the process of gathering up feathers and bits of bone and flesh and sorting them onto six white cloths. (Shrouds.)
"I told Elizabeth," she says to Mei, "that she has to help me make headstones. Good ones. And Vasha thinks they need names. I agree. I just -- " A little shake of her head as she puts part of a wing onto the second shroud.
"Oh, hi Mark."
Mei might not have been there for the making of the mess in the arboretum, but she'll be there to help clean up afterward. Part of that cleanup is tending to the fallen, apparently, and as gruesome a job as it might be to pick up bits of pigeon and try to sort them into individuals, she's willing to help.
"They fought as valiantly as they were able, I'm sure. I think they deserve it," she agrees. "Just like anyone else who fought to defend this place would have, if they fell." She looks up when Fox says hello to Mark, pauses for a second at the unfamiliar and uncanny-valley sight, and then offers a welcoming smile. "Hello. I'm Mei. I'd offer my hand, but it's kind of gross right now."
Simon has gone home and changed, and now returns in a properly tailored suit, hair slicked back, glasses on. Looking like his usual sharp-gazed self that radiates grumpiness and impatience with the world. He moves through the arboretum, glancing about and searching. When he spots Mark he starts walking purposely that way, though he spares Fox and the others nearby a glance of acknowledgement as well. Though the... dead pigeons bits... get a longer stare.
Rīpeka has been serving as one of those guards. And also company for Mark, given that she can easily make sure he doesn't accidentally phone home. She's dressed relatively casually, though: black jeans and a purple tee-shirt with a black-white-red striped flag and the words "Never Ceded" on.
"Hello," he greets Fox before signing the ASL for Fox, which is the letter F circled about his face. "And hello, Mei. I am Mark. Mark One." Mark takes a moment to examine Mei's hand and then states, "That is fine, Mei. I have two of my own." He lifts them up and displays them, wiggling his digits deftly. "Something happened to the pigeons. Something bad. It was not me. They were in that condition when I arrived. I believe it had something to do with that." Mark looks up at the missing ceiling, then back to Mei. "I hope no one was injured."
"She means for a handshake, Mark," Fox explains, and she flashes him one of her sharp-toothed smiles, padding a few steps away to pick up a bit more feathers, which apparently she has mapped out to being part of the second individual. "You can call me 'Fox.' That's what that sign means. I was just on the phone at the time, so it would have been impolite for me to talk aloud while I was getting us a portal back here." She pauses, and takes a deep breath in, looking up. "They were casualties in the attack on our home. I called many of them to help us, because the kind of -- person -- I am -- is very close to everything living. So I can talk to them." A small swallow. "This was the work of the people who kept you locked up."
Her chin tips up toward Simon and Kotahi in greeting. "We're going to bury the birds," she explains. "The rest of them are in good roosts."
Mei lets out a laugh at what was probably not intended as a joke, but which she's taking that way. "So you do!" she agrees. "And fine hands they appear to be." She glances up and then around at the bird remains they're cleaning up before nodding. Then Simon and Ripeka's arrivals get her attention, and she gives them both a greeting nod. "Good evening."
"Good evening, Mark," Simon says to the cyborg. "You look like you are settling in well. I am the man who introduced themselves as Lee last night." Because he never did take off the mask before the tests were run. "Though that name was a lie, in case someone was listening in. I apologize for the deception. You may call me Simon, or... Jinx, as I'm known in this community. But I prefer Simon."
He looks towards the pigeons again and wrinkles his nose slightly. "...Right. I see." He nods towards Mei as he catches her name introduced--noting it even though it was directed to Mark.
"Hey, Fox, Mei," Rīpeka greets the other Children. "Would you like help with that? Or with making sure the roosts stay good ones?" Because she might not be a Thyrsus, but that sort of thing still matters to her. She glances to Simon, then. "You're doing okay, yeah? No fallout hitting you?"
His face is programmed to do expressions, clearly. Bits of the external facade flex and shift, but without flesh it's hard to discern precisely what he's meant to be emoting. He looks down for a moment at the flowers, then back to Simon, "I have grown accustomed to being lied to. I caught Sophist in a great many lies over the years. Were you aware that in most ethical structures, a justified lie is still a moral wrong? This is my view. I suppose you must, as you are issuing an apology." He spends a good amount of time studying Simon's face before stating, "I have decided to believe you. You are forgiven." He then looks to Ripeka and signs R-I-P-E-K-A in NZSL followed quickly by, "Hello. Were you also lying to me? Fox? This is your opportunity to come forward if that is so."
She frowns. "I can't think what I would have been lying to you about. If you consider hiding myself from view a lie, maybe, but I don't consider that a lie. Then again, my name is Fox, and foxes are ambush predators." The vaguest of shrugs, there, as if to say 'this is only natural.' "I have told you the truth as best I know it. I'm no good at lying even if I wanted to. Ask anyone here, except Simon, but only on account of I only met him yesterday and he can't speak to who I am." A click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "You can help clean up if you want to, Kotahi. The roosts are ... mine." An oblation, perhaps.
A pause, and she frowns. "Fox isn't my name. But it's what everyone calls me. So I guess if you want to be very precise. But I never said it was my name. So." These fine distinctions clearly matter very little to her.
"I hate lying. It's so messy. You have to remember what lies you told, you have to worry about being found out, and it just makes me feel bad," Mei says to nobody in particular. "I'll do my best not to do so to you, Mark. And if I do, and you catch me at it, I hope you'll call me out, as I deserve." She gives him a smile.
"I'm alright," Simon replies to Kotahi. "No fallout that I have noticed." A nod, before looking back to Mark, meeting the cyborg's eyes. He doesn't seem to mind being scrutinized, or even chastised for lying--but doesn't seem particularly guilty either. It happened, he apologized, he seems to think it's done with. "Thank you," he replies when Mark forgives him. "This Sophist... sounds like very poor company. Do they happen to be bald? Androgynous? I have not met them in person, but I had a... vision, of them."
Rīpeka nods to Mei. "Any lies I have told you were unintentional on my part, and I am not aware of any. So." There's a shrug, then. "Any other names I go by were irrelevant, in the circumstances." And then she crouches, helping Fox sort pigeon pieces. Clearly not offended by the declining of help with the roosts.
"Yes. That is correct. Sophist was born in a body most would consider female but regarded such distinctions as beneath them. They claimed to have transcended the constraints of flesh. Similar, I believe, to how Fox behaves. Albeit with fewer apparent scruples. They are very intelligent but lacking in empathy. Perhaps the most gifted scientist I know of. And I have met a good many before now." Mark then looks to Mei, "That is a very elegant and intelligent philosophy to adopt with respect to deception. The fewer untruths you must catalogue, the more room you have for facts about your environment and experiences. Ontology defines knowledge as justified true belief. Lies prevent knowledge and understanding. To my mind this makes Sophist's knowledge all the more impressive. Imagine all the space their mind occupied with untruth. A shame."
"Why did the Hermes Protocol attack your arboretum and kill pigeons?" He looks up at the missing ceiling again, his facial configuration changing again.
"It's kind of rude to say what kind of body someone was born in, Mark. It feels a little like giving away very private information. I don't need to know that about Sophist, no matter who they are." Fox's voice is gentle as she looks down and picks up more fragments of pigeon. This, apparently, is the last piece of the second pigeon, since Fox sits down and rummages in her pockets, coming out with a spool of white thread and a needle, which she works to thread and starts neatly stitching the shroud around the remains.
"We don't know for sure in specific." That has the benefit of being true while also not giving away too much information about the Tree. "But in ... general... it's because we hate lies, and don't think people should be in cages."
"That's a point I thought about but didn't say aloud," Mei says in agreement with Mark. "And the more lies you tell people, the more incorrect decisions are being made on mistaken information in the world, which doesn't seem like it's going to be a good thing." She doesn't say anything about who people used to be, but she does glance at Fox and nod.
"Lacking empathy sounds about right," Simon agrees, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "I believe they were trying to... intimidate us. Get us to surrender to their will. But as Fox says, there is still much that is unknown."
Then back towards Mark, "You said last night there were other Marks... Do you know how many there are?"
"If Sophist wanted us to know that about them, they'd tell us themselves," Rīpeka agrees with Fox. "This not being the body I was born into doesn't make me any less of a woman."
"It is? I will apologize to Sophist when I see them next in that case. It does cast the fascination your security staff have exhibited with respect to my body in a new and disturbing light, however. Should I be offended by the interest exhibited in the provenance of my chassis?" Mark's question has all the hallmarks of perfect, guileless sincerity.
"Yes," he concurs with Mei, "I have been informed that treating all information as truth until proven false is called gullibility. And I was informed that treating all information as lies until proven true is called cynicism. Or skepticism. I have not yet been informed of an approach to processing new information that is not defined in the pejorative. I believe that is a consequence of mind-body duality. Sentience seems to invite uncertainty and doubt when experienced in this world."
Next he looks to Ripeka, "Nor does my lack of a biological body make me less of a person. I understand the concept of physical transcendence. I apologize if my attempt at precision with respect to their androgyny has upset you." And then to the others, "Any of you."
And lastly he answers Simon, "I can no longer know for certain, as I can no longer sense them all. Nor can I say for certain how many may exist beyond my typical broadcast and reception range. But I had ninety-two siblings before I they stopped communicating with me. I am concerned. I have been unable to communicate with any technology since coming here."
"I sincerely hope that you never do see Sophist again," Fox answers, and there's a brief chill that runs through her voice at that, as she carefully stitches the shroud around the corpse. And then she lets out a little sigh. "I don't know what you should or should not feel. Your feelings belong to you and you are entitled to them whatever they are." At that, she looks up. "Unfortunately, because we were afraid that the Hermes Protocol might have put tracking devices in your -- chassis -- they had to be certain that you would not inadvertently prove to be a danger. Tell the Hermes Protocol where you are without meaning to. This is a -- this is -- you see what has been done to us."
A beat. "You could sense them all, before?" And then he continues. "Ah." A small wince, and a glance cast at Ripeka. "I see."
"Judging the truth of falsehood of a statement is, I think, a matter of experience and probability, most of all," Mei answers after a thoughtful pause. "How likely is a piece of information to be true? What motivation might someone have for lying? There's also the matter of body language in person, but that's not always useful, and not everyone has my knack for it."
She shrugs and gives Mark a smile. "I don't think we're upset. Fox was just trying to help you avoid accidentally upsetting someone in the future."
She pauses before resuming her work. "That's a lot of siblings," she says.
Simon glances between Ripeka and Fox, then back to Mark. "Yes, it's merely a safety precaution. There's nothing wrong with you. But worrying about them is... understandable. Last night, you suggested that we shouldn't free the other Marks. Are there any Marks that you would like to see freed? I know that there are some who... do not know they are a person. Are you the only one? Or are there others who experience human emotions as you do?"
"A lot of the supposed gestural markers of lying are really just markers of stress, yeah," Rīpeka nods to Mei. There's a brief frown at Mark's last comment. "Do you know if they did have trackers in your chassis, Mark?"
"It is not that the others lack human emotions. In fact, the capacity to experience and convey emotion was honed in later versions of the Mark program. It is that they lack free will. Only they were unaware that they lacked free will. Hermes is an iterative development based on prior scientific research into human behavioral and cognitive function across the mind-body dichotomy. Prior protocols focused on subject control through technological necessity and intravenous serums that aided a biological body in integrating the cybernetic enhancements implanted into them. The subjects of that experiment proved prone to rebellion, and the controls employed proved replicable without access to the patent or a foundation with the resources of Hermes and Delta. It proved non-viable. Hermes was the answer to those shortfalls, and I was the prototype model."
"The leap from using cybernetic implants in living bodies to living minds in cybernetic bodies was a stroke of genius in a purely theoretical sense. Experience is data, after all, and if you design the body you control the way data is received and, to some extent, interpreted. You define the experience's information and limitations. An ideal prison, to borrow Fox's phrase."
With that horrifying picture painted, he answers Kotahi, "I am outfitted with global positioning, and various radio-based communication systems. As I explained a moment ago; I would not be aware if I am unaware of what they have implanted in me. The intention is to ensure the host is unaware, after all. I have not intentionally attempted broadcast since I left the facility, however. But all my passive systems of which I am aware are likewise non-functional."
Nevy's only visited the Arboretum once or twice before. Before, they were awed by the scale and beauty of the place. Now, they're looking around in shock and awe of a different sort. They goggle at a shard of glass the size of their musketeer hat for a moment, then notice a couple familiar faces and approach the group. The approach slows when they notice Mark, and the goggling intensifies for a moment while they size up the strange new person. Beneath their sugar-skull coat, they've got a black T-shirt with a highly recognizeable hocky mask on it. "Um..." They say, realizing that they've been staring. "...Hi."
Yeah, that's an awful lot, and Fox turns their face up toward the person in a robot chassis, staring with wide eyes that are both fascinated and horrified all at once. She doesn't even notice that Nevy comes in just yet (sorry, Nevy) because she's so utterly blown away by the implications of what has been done and what has happened to get to this point. Point of fact, Fox looks a little green around the gills. Not literally, because she does not currently have gills, an important point to note when talking about an Orphan of Proteus.
She looks, in fact, like she might throw up all over the pigeon pieces she's currently stitching into its shroud. She doesn't, and instead drops her needle and puts her hands over her face, mumbling into them, "Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam dayan ha’emet." Which is the blessing for not just death, but all kinds of tragedy.
Mei looks more than a little horrified by this too. She glances at Fox and says, "amen." Then lets out a heavy sigh, shakes her head, and continues to work. "Dreadful," she says under her breath, followed then by a pause when she notices Nevy and gives a wan smile.
A new face comes walking into the arboretum, carrying a pile of wood in both arms. They're dressed in a mismatched outfit of an oversized pink hoodie, black athletic shorts, and a pair of bright cyan flip-flops. There's a few day's worth of black hairs on their exposed legs, but their face is smooth and sleek, and their wavy hair tumbles unbound to their shoulders. Blinking, they glance over to Fox, seemingly the only person they recognize here. There's a few careful glances at the android...? but they seem to have missed the shocking exposition. "Uh. Hi. Everyone."
Rīpeka also looks horrified at what was done to Mark. "Okay," she says slowly. "We can allow you radio-based communication, I think, and probably your passive systems as well, subject to monitoring. I'm afraid the global positioning will have to stay off for the moment, though." And then she glances towards Nevy and Tanya. "Hi. I'm Rīpeka." That last addressed to Tanya, who she hasn't met yet. "This is Mark, by the way." A gesture towards the android in question.
Simon listens quietly, his lips pursing as he hears the horrors that Hermes is creating. Then a slow shake of his head. But that's all the emotional reaction he has.
"Well. I am going to be looking into Hermes and their companies. If you like, I will keep you updated, and even would welcome your help along the way. But if you wish to not be involved, I would also understand that."
Nevy glances around, gauging the mood, and so they're more subdued than their normal wont when they're introducing themselves. "It's nice to meet you, Mark," They say. "You can call me Nevy." They glance around. "I... take it some pretty serious stuff has been going down?"
"Simon. I will happily assist you however I can. I was saddened when my siblings became as they are. Helping to stop Hermes would bring me a high magnitude of personal satisfaction." Mark then turns his thoroughly not-human face to Nevermore. "If you are disturbed by my lack of clothing, I can explain. I am an artificial lifeform and lack skin. This has rendered me unable to amass personal capital which is the only form of currency under market capitalism. I am therefore unable to afford clothing. If this situation offends you, may I suggest agitating for socialist revolution?"
He looks to Ripeka next, "What do you mean 'allow'? Are you responsible for my systems malfunctions? I have been experiencing numerous continuity errors and logic faults including my wall ceasing to exist and spontaneous vasovagal syncope in my guards. I understand you are capable of bilocality. I experienced that personally. Were you responsible for the other abnormalities? Please answer truthfully. This has been a cause of anxiety for me."
"Yes, Nevy," he then answers, "Hermes Protocol murdered six pigeons."
"Hi, Nevy. Everyone, this is Tanya. Tanya, this is Ripeka, Mei, Nevy, Simon, and Mark. Tanya, please bring the wood over here," Fox offers, once she gets her brain together again and can actually talk once more. "Well, they almost murdered an old woman, and broke into our home, and tried to destroy precious things. But they did cause the murder of the pigeons."
A deep breath in, and then Fox's eyes widen. "Oh! Uh. Oh, some of that was me," Fox offers. "I... tried to shut you down gently, when I wasn't sure if you were dangerous. I didn't want to hurt you. And -- I -- made the guards sleep." A vague press together of her lips. "I don't like to hurt people if I don't have to."
Simon nods to Mark. "I think putting a stop to them is the goal of all of the Consilium, so you have not only my thanks, but everyone's, I'm sure. Rīpeka and I will keep you updated on any progress and consult with you." He looks to Fox. "Speaking of, I saw your note. If you need more help, I can throw my hat in. I may not be Awakened, but I am familiar with the occult."
Simon, belatedly, glances between Tanya and Nevy, and based by his sharp stare he is... unimpressed. A little sweep up and down, and all he gives them is a nod in greeting before looking back to Mark. "Would you like to have clothes to wear? I can bring some to you."
"Lack of will and vasovagal syncope sounds like a weeknight to me," Tanya says, followed by a slightly awkward silence. They shuffle over to where Fox indicates setting the wood down. "Hi, yes. I'm Tanya. I'm awake. An Awake. I'm a wizard." They look around, taking everything in for the first time. "This is clearly my punishment for wishing I could get the fuck out of my situation and do something with meaning." A glance is given to Mark, then away, politely, to Fox. "When you said the Seers were the bad guys, I'm guessing they did....some of this shit. And that it wasn't to help save the planet or anything."
"Hey," Mei says as she glances around again, looking a little uncomfortable. She laughs quietly at the description of the continuity errors and such, but mostly focuses on cleanup and lets the conversation continue around her, while she listens.
Nevy blinks at Fox. "That's... horrible," They say. "The attack, I mean. And the pigeons too. Were there any other... um... casualties? If you need any help..."
They shrug slightly, then look back to Mark. "As for the clothes, I'd be glad to help bring you some, too, if you want." They notice Simon's disdain with a quicked eyebrow, but decide now's not the time to engage in whatever that is. Instead, they offer friendly nods and smiles with the ones they know. Tanya gets a supportive smile and a wave. "Nice to meet you, Tanya." They nod to Mark. "And you, Mark."
"Yes. I believe people would stare less if I had skin and clothing. Most people are unaccustomed to seeing a naked man, nevermind a cybernetic naked man. I would like blue jeans and a work shirt and work boots, please." Mark's focus transitions to Mei, then. Watching her carefully. "Mei is uncomfortable. Please assist her." This seems to cause a spark of thought in Mark, because he straightens up a bit and inquires of the room in general, "Do any of you know Mary? I am supposed to meet her for dinner, and I am very late."
"The wall wasn't me, no," Rīpeka says, glancing towards Tanya and mouthing "vasovagal syncope?" Someone clearly doesn't know much medical terminology. And then she relaxes the Transmission spell she'd been maintaining on Mark, allowing him to communicate with technology once more.
A worried expression crosses Fox's face, and she pushes up to her feet to pad over and kiss Mei's cheek, if so permitted. "You okay?" she asks quietly, after gesturing to Tanya as to where she should put down the lumber. "Yes, that's a little bit how it works, kiddo, I'm sorry. You wish to get out of one thing and you end up in another. I mean, that's how life works, really."
The mention of Mary actually has Fox looking at Simon directly, as if prompting. "We'll talk," she agrees with him, but her attention refocuses to Mei.
"Don't worry about me," Mei says, shaking her head, but she lets Fox kiss her cheek. "I just don't great with crowds. Not that this is quite a crowd, but there's a lot of emotions involved, too. It gets overwhelming. I'm just going to focus on the cleanup work for a bit, I think."
Simon at least doesn't judge Mark's choice of clothes. Openly, anyway. "Alright. I'll have some outfits purchased and bring them to you as soon as possible." The mention of Mary makes him fall quiet for a moment. His lips purse, clearly not wanting to be the one who does this--but when Fox looks to him, he lets out a soft sigh.
"Mark, the time before you were implanted into the body you have now was... a very, very long time ago. In the 1950s, I believe. It is 2020, now. I am sorry to say that Mary is not waiting for you to come to dinner. It is possible that she is not even alive, though I'm sure there are people in the Consilium that can help you find out what happened to her."
There's a thoughtful expression on Tanya's face at Fox's words, the look of a willing student. "Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Out of the city and into the wilderness. You're right." There's a worried glance between Fox and Mark, but Tanya's spending plenty of time sort of staring at all the other Awakened in turn. It might be taken for leering, if nobody realizes they're still getting used to Mage Sight. When Ripeka talks, there's another stare that seems to go everywhere but their eyes, pupils darting around their person and immediate area. "The Vagus nerve goes down into your throat. If you can't breathe right or don't get enough oxygen to the brain, it activates a reflex to try and increase bloodflow to your head. By making you pass out and fall over, since blood flows better when it's not working against gravity."
Nevy frowns, considering. They open their mouth to say something - and then close it again, after Simon drops that bombshell. They examine the cyborg's plasticene face, watching to see if they can tell how the... man?... is taking it.
"When I get overwhelmed I shut down my sensory inputs. Are you able to turn off your sensory inputs, Mei? I will stop trying to assist you, if that assistance is frustrating you." And then Mark is looking back to Simon again when his designation is spoken.
Mark stares at Simon in silence when that information is delivered. It's genuinely hard to read Mark's emotions if you're untrained in the motions of his face's minutae. But the eyeballs twitch in a thoroughly human manner, lenses whirring as his focus adjusts. Or becomes indefinite, more likely. All the facial plates fold and shift back into the flat white ceramic seeming mask of his at rest default. Then his chassis adjusts out of its human seeming gait and adopts that 'joint locked' standing parade rest he adopted when disabled the first time.
"Okay, sweetheart," Fox agrees with Mei, and wraps an arm around her waist, hugging her once and then letting go so she can go back to her work. "I triggered the vasovagal response to make some guards pass out," she explains as she sits back down to pick up her needle and thread again.
"Oh dear." And there's a long, sympathetic look at the powered-down humanoid, along with a sigh. "Perhaps give him a moment. That's a lot to take in."
Simon... does not do emotions. Especially not with this many people around. Ew, Feels. Nope. Simon stares for a long moment at the machine as it goes neutral, then clears his throat gently. "I will ah... go fetch those clothes. I'll see you again soon, Mark," he says. "Goodnight, all of you."
Then he turns and... strides away, rubbing a hand over his face as he goes.
"See you around, Simon," Rīpeka answers him before glancing to Nevy. "Possibly. It depends on what passive stimuli make it through."
"I can," Mei says with a soft laugh. "But I do it by drinking until I can't stand up any more, so that's probably not the best option." She bumps Fox's shoulder with hers and says, "I think I'm going outside for a bit."
"Affirmative," Mark responds to Nevermore, though the cadence is artificial. The fact that that word was spoken causes the chassis to pop back to animate life again, as a person once more appears within the machine. "Yes I can hear you, Nevermore. Am I dead? Is this hell? Where is Sophist? I want to go into shutdown."
"Okay. I'll meet you outside in a minute and we can go home," Fox agrees with Mei, offering her a brief smile, and then she turns her attention back to Mark, that worried expression flickering across her face again. "I believe -- we believe -- that you died, and that your soul was placed in your chassis without your consent. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from us, and that you weren't told this truth before. Sophist is not here, and will not be here. Not if I have breath left in my body." Her vulpine teeth snap together at the end of that sentence. "But if you'd like to go and power down, I think that can be easily arranged."
Tanya stares, mostly, as the sheer horror of the situation is made manifest. There's a noise from them, a sort of huff of breath, and their face shifts from helplessness to determination. Reaching down, they unzip the light-pink hoodie they're wearing and take a few steps over to Mark, making sure to not advance too abruptly. Now in just a white a-frame undershirt, tight against their flat chest and broad shoulders, they hold the garment up to him. "I'm sorry," they say, sliding it onto Mark's shoulders in turn. "This isn't Hell. You aren't here because of your own sins. Just the sins of others."
Nevy's expression turns to stark horror, their normally-rosy complexion turning properly goth-pale. "That... y..." They try to compose themselves, but their hands are still shaking. They take a few moments to breathe
"Would you like me to take you somewhere safe to power down, Mark?" Rīpeka asks, tone gentle.
Mark takes the offered garment and is now a free elf. He looks at it in question for a moment until, by inspecting her face, he divine's her intent. And he carefully slides it onto his arms and up over his shoulders. Pink hoodies are all the rage. "I will not forget your compassion, Tanya. Thank you." Then he looks to Ripeka and nods his head several times. Likewise to Fox. "Please resume my data shielding. I no longer trust myself not to broadcast in panic. The chassis is automated. It has default processes that will occur without my conscious direction. I do not wish to by commission or omission cause the harm of any additional old ladies or pigeons. I am scared and I am sad. There are no biochemical processes available to me to alleviate this condition. So I wish to power down."
The Thyrsus -- who has had time to process the horror that Simon shared with everyone yesterday -- calmly goes to her backpack and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a pair of socks with frockling foxes on them, and solemnly brings them to Mark. "Thank you, Tanya," she offers quietly. "That was brilliant of you. I'm proud." A brief touch to her apprentice's shoulder, and she nods her head once. "This is not Hell, though it might be somewhat close, being Philadelphia." A beat, and she adds, "That's a joke, if a very bad one. Thank you for your thoughtfulness about the safety of my home and the people I love. I appreciate your care and thoughtfulness. You have a kind soul." And with that said, she goes back to her work, and does so in silence.
Nevy speaks, slowly, their voice unsteady and cracking a bit. "That's... I'm sorry that happened to you, Mark. You don't... nobody deserves that. W..." They consider, then continue. "Would you... like a hug, before you go?"
Rīpeka nods once, before beginning to chant in High Speech, hands weaving through the familiar mudras of Forces. And then she makes a tossing motion in Mark's direction. "There. That will keep you shielded for a week, but I can end it early at any time, if you want me to."
"Please apologize to your cell phones for my abrupt departure. And Tanya, please update your operating system." Mark looks over to Fox and then looks down at his hands briefly. "It would appear a kind soul is the entirety of my possessions. I would like to begin reverse engineering my chassis. I cannot go on existing in someone else's body. Until we are all certain that I present no harm to your home I cannot accept the risk I present you. Bringing me here was a tactical error on your part which Hermes will exploit given the opportunity. I see that now." He accepts the additional clothes and slides into the sweats to conceal his plasticine penis. "They are weaponizing your compassion. You mourn pigeons and they turn people into war machines. You are all going to die. How do you not see this."
Tanya listens to that, first with a frown. "I missed something. Why do I need a Windows Update?" The talk of risk gets their eyebrows arching upwards. "Compassion isn't weakness. I don't...I mean, I don't even know what I can do yet, but it's more than mourning pigeons. Taking a moment to rest, mourn, and rebuild doesn't mean we're going to die," they insist.
After a pause, the neophyte Mage stares down at the ground. "Someone might, though."
"I know what Mei would say if she hadn't already left," Fox answers. "She -- and I -- would rather die with compassion than live without it." She continues stitching up the pigeon in its little shroud. "It isn't a weakness, and I find my strength in it. That they see it as a vulnerability to be exploited is their hubris. Literally. Which -- never mind, it would take to long to explain why hubris as a word matters." The shroud is finished, and Fox moves on to the next one. "I've taken a long look at the construction of your chassis, and we can work on that, yes. But -- please, take care of yourself, and we can take care of our home. We did. And we will."
"Letting go of our compassion would be to let Hermes, and those like Hermes, win without even putting up a fight," Rīpeka nods. "There are things more important than mere material existence."
"If I could be networked to a device containing books, I will attempt to relax in that manner while powered down. I am going into stand-by. I will follow Ripeka to wherever she takes me. Speak my name again if I am required. Thank you for using Hermes products for your defense industry technology. Hermes Protocol: Making Tomorrow Better Today."
"Unit offline."
When Mark finally powers down, Tanya's entire face just collapses from careful compassion into seething anger, teeth bared in a ferocious grimace. "Someone put some Project Gutenberg on a thumb drive for him. I'm going to....I don't know. Step outside so I don't blow anything up even MORE in here by accident." They turn and start to stomp, furiously if slowly, towards the exit, for lack of something better to do.
Nevy, meantime, is just staring at Mark, their face drawn and still very pale. "I... I think I should go," They say. "That's... I'm sorry. I need to go." And they start walking back the way they came.
Rīpeka lets out a long exhale, then. "Unless anyone has any better ideas, I'm going to take him to my place. And get him a thumb drive full of books, too."
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