3..2...1...CONTACT!

[goneawaymod]

Who: The New Hires
What: Sudden Memory Share
Where: Their Memory Palaces
When: After "Don't Touch That Dial"
Warnings/Notes: Possible in every memory, warn in subject lines.

Contact.

It's during a pause in their day. A nap. An idle moment looking across the Top Deck. Taking a slow breath between reps in the training room.

The New Hires are connected. Mental pathways locking together, they're forced into one another's innermost beings. Thrust into one another's memory palaces where the mind collects and stores everything that makes them who they are. The core of their beings are only a few steps away and no one can help the violation.

To make matters worse, it comes with no explanation or no ability to pull out and stop. Once they're through the first memory, perhaps they can find a way out, but they're already witnessing some event from their host's past. And, if they left, who knows whether or not they'd end up accidentally invading another memory palace?

And if they were there, who was in theirs?

[[So, how this works: the memories can either be viewed in spectator mode or the guest can be experiencing everything themselves. The person whose memories are being shown, the host, can watch as their current self or take the form they had of their past self. They can talk about the memory with the "guest" that's visiting.

They cannot control the first memory shown, the player decides that, but they can control any other memories they'd like to show people after. Of course, there's also always the option of an extreme emotional reaction bringing up other memories unbidden.]]

Comments

[googledox]

When she turns back, the older Brainy is now there, head tilted as he watches his younger self from the outside, hands clasped behind his back.

"Fascinating. The last few times this phenomenon occurred none of my own memories were displayed, though I did witness the memories of others."

A pause.

"'Shitgibbon,' by the way, is an exceptionally creative insult. When I was younger, I did used to imagine my handlers as apes. So much so that a telepath saw them that way when invading my memories once."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia chuckles, in the sense that she recognizes that Brainy's paid her a compliment for her creativity and she makes a noise in response, but her fury transforms it into more of a wheeze. She takes a few moments to stomp around until she can wind her Rage back in and master it. There's nothing here for her to fight, as much as she wants to find something.

Handlers. She opens her mouth to ask where his parents were, why they hadn't prevented it, but snaps it closed again because rude.

"I'm sorry they put you through all-- this," she says, making a gesture to encompass everything she'd seen and everything that needed to happen to make that be his life. "And sorry for crawling into your head uninvited, just on general principle."

[googledox]

"It's not your fault. I know this phenomenon has been striking from an unknown source."

He looks at the child, who flops over on his bed miserably.

"And you needn't apologize. I've mostly laid these past traumas to rest. I struggle much more with the fact that they mistreated my son, after genetically engineering him without my knowledge. Fortunately, I was able to intervene at a much younger age for him. He's three now. And healing."

His expression changes in a way that makes it clear it does still actively distress him more, knowing how his son was treated the first few years of his life.

"The Coluan intellect means he unfortunately won't forget it like some children of some species might forget a trauma at that age, but in a way, that mental development is a boon. He's able to fluently articulate his thoughts and feelings to work through them. The therapy is a huge help to him and so is having a father who loves him, who can talk to him with understanding and wisdom because we shared the same experience."

He takes comfort in that, in how obviously his son is now thriving while growing up somewhere safe and loved. In some ways Merl had a rougher start, but in others he will be better off, for having a loving parent intervene so early.

If Brainy were to throw caution to the wind and take a peek at the future, he would in fact see that he will grow up happier and more well-adjusted.

But worry creases his brow as he thinks about the possibility of his son now having to deal with him suddenly disappearing.

[credit_not_blame]

"Empathy-sorry, not apology-sorry," Stacia says. The English language is such a pain in the ass sometimes. Though given how smart Brainy is, he may be misunderstanding her meaning deliberately as a defense mechanism.

"Even if he never completely forgets it the way someone who isn't Coluan would, one day it's going to be a relatively small portion of his life, and he's going to have had years of support and developing the tools of how to deal with its impact on him," she says reassuringly. "Also, you know, congratulations: you literally became the person you needed when you were younger."

[googledox]

"Yes, well, I seem to have certainly surpassed my mother, who abandoned me, committed genocide under a secret villainous identity, feigned that she wanted a reunion when I was a teenager, and then tried to burn me alive."

He bites off the sarcasm on reflex, but manages to come back around to sincerity again.

"I still don't understand her. I can't. I didn't ask to be a father so soon, but if anyone were to harm my son..."

Another memory flashes of Brainy sitting in a futuristic court-room speaking to a judge about custody of his son.

"Mr. Dox, the court has some concerns regarding the nature of Six's crimes -"

"Merl."

"I'm sorry?"

"I've named him Merl. Merl Dox. I already had my lawyer enter it into his records."

"My apologies. Merl's crimes are of a very serious nature and while his criminal trial found him unable to be judged as an adult due to his age, and found his legal guardians guilty as per the dictates of Coluan law regarding minor crimes, I still have some concerns about his placement due to his destructive nature."

"Understandable."

"UPgov representatives have made a case for releasing him into custody in a secure facility that can potentially meet his needs until it can be ascertained that he can safely interact with the civilian population -"

"He's a civilian."

"I'm sorry?"

"He's a civilian. He's a child."

"Yes, of course, but -"

"Those same UPgov representatives have discussed this facility with me. They seemed to feel that visitation rights would somehow mitigate the fact that he'd effectively be imprisoned and treated as if "innocent" sentients need to be kept away from him. They also claimed they could provide him intellectual stimulation by giving him problems to solve, without realizing their aims of using him as a convenient - and free - intellectual thinktank are completely transparent."

"That's not how this facility was framed -"

"Colugov didn't frame the abuse of my intellect to solve Earthgov and UPgov problems as intellectual slavery when I was child, either. Forced child labor is supposedly illegal in the UP, yes?"

"Yes. You have a point."

"However, what matters most in these proceedings is that I won't allow anyone else to have custody."

"Excuse me?"

"I simply won't allow it."

"I'm sorry, but if the court decides otherwise, that decision is binding."

"Yes, that's all well and good, but even if the court deems otherwise, it would be an idiotic decision and I'd elect to ignore it, so it renders this all very moot."

"You can't just ignore what the court orders, Mr. Dox."

"Your honor, I've only known my child for three days, but after his exploitation - after my own exploitation as a child by my legal guardians - I refuse to trust anyone else in the galaxy with his well-being."

"So you're saying you will engage in illegal actions if custody is taken away."

"Yes."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Dox?"

"Absolutely. So far, the galaxy has only ever faced Brainiacs that were motivated by a simple desire for power or knowledge. They were fueled by a lack of remorse or emotion. For just a moment, I would like the entire UP to briefly envision what would happen to the galaxy if a Brainiac were motivated by the depths of emotion that come from parental love and concern."

"Mr. Dox."

In a voice that is pure steel, he says, "In all this time, despite the public treating me as monstrous, no one has ever seen me actually angry or purposefully destructive, and anyone who tries to keep my child away from me would do well to remember that."

"Mr. Dox, you will get nowhere by attempting to intimidate this court."

He points upward. "Moons. I'll start with the moons."

There's a tense silence as past Brainy stares the judge down.

"Meanwhile, regarding Brainiac 6 blowing up moons, if I'm given custody, I promise I'll teach him not to." A brief smile flashes over his lips and then flickers off again. "Also, everyone needs to face this situation with some honesty - if he tries to blow up any moons, you all know that I'm the only one that can actually enforce any boundaries and keep him from creating doomsday devices."

The Judge looks mostly enraged, slightly intimidated, and yet in reluctant agreement.

"Given the nature of the abuse your son suffered, Mr. Dox, I'm going to overlook your threatening comments, especially since they demonstrate the depths of your affection and concern for the child. And given the nature of his intelligence, I'm forced to acknowledge the truth - that there is likely no one else in the UP intelligent enough to contain or guide him. I will therefore be granting you permanent custody. Gods help me."

"Thank you, your honor."

Present Brainy says, "I really wasn't joking about the moons."

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia's a dab hand at blistering sarcasm as a defense mechanism herself, she doesn't rise to Brainy's jab. Though that does explain why there was no one to intercede on his behalf with his "handlers" if his mother is that bad. Though given her own maternal issues, it's not much of a surprise that Brainy's impassioned defense of his son is replaced by a confrontation between Stacia and an older blond woman in the living room of a 21st century suburban home.

"You knew," Stacia hisses, hands balled into white-knuckled fists. "You knew this whole time, and you never said anything. You never warned any of us what could happen if we got scared or angry--" Her voice cracks and she swallows hard to restore it. "Aren't you at least sorry for that?"

The woman stares her down, chin lowered -- not in shame or guilt but almost as if to protect her throat.

"I won't apologize for protecting my family," she says. For a bare moment, Stacia looks like she's been slapped before fury rises in her face and she turns on her heel.

"If Dad asks, I'm at Mila's place," she says as she storms out of the room and slams through the front door. Present-day Stacia sighs.

"Moms, huh?" she says. "Not that mine is anywhere remotely in the same category as yours, she just...doesn't consider me family anymore, I guess."