The Awful Truth? [OPEN ]

[de_bel_survivor]

WHO: EVERYONE
WHAT: Chatting in the aslyum, but with that pesky 'tell no lie' thing in the way.
WHERE: Anywhere.
WHEN: The entire week the event's taking place in.
WARNING(S): Possible swearing from the usual suspects 8| and moderately Freudian psychoanalysis

Comments

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA- ::hack cough wheeze::

[gewehrundblut]

It takes a few long seconds for him to make sense of her rambling, simply because the words are coming so quickly that they're dropping out entirely or slurring together. Though once he does figure out what she's saying, he frowns a bit more. "W-wait, children? Where?" That doesn't quite sit well with him. "Oh, come on, like I care that you're not paid or eating. You're working for her! What the Hell makes any of you think you have the right to just snatch us from our homes and duties and little brother and bring us here for 'treatment'?! If anything, you're the fuckin' psychos, thinking you can just do this and get away with it! You think it's 'inhumane' to be here and not be allowed to work?! What's inhumane is having any of us here in the first place!" Never mind that especially in his time, that's not how asylums work, but even so, there would have been some notice that they were being committed, not just randomly waking up in a strange place.

He finally manages to get her to stop with the damn touching. Honestly, even if she isn't responsible for the worst of what's happened, she is still obviously in league with their captors and thus is also the enemy. "Tch, and to think I found you attractive," he mumbles lowly.

Okay, this is more like a tag trickle but whatever~~~~ SUFFER, DOJI >:]

[thecutrperidot]

"Poor Miss Hatsune, mostly - really, if she weren't technologically immune to almost everything I would have tried to do something about her presence ages ago. I suppose you could argue Mr. Wakahisa too, but definitely not Ashura - the poor thing really needs to learn how to cope so badly..." That's a tangent, she discards it.

"Besides, haven't you noticed the control we have over time? You're supposed to be returned home the moment you left, except with a completely new state of mind. I'm not sure if that's still what termination entails, or even if that's still the intention Linda has, but that's why I work here, to help people work through all the pain and suffering and anger and..." She throws up her hands. "But I can't! Because she's got you all convinced that this is some kind of terrible prison and that none of you need treatment and, god, is there any worse way she could have gone about it? And now I'll have to go back to taking notes from fourthhand evidence while all that truth serum goes to waste. Why does she torture me this way?"

A deep sigh punctuates all that rambling as she leans - almost falls - against the wall and looks up at him half-through her eyelashes. "I'd noticed. Hmmm, I should have worn that dress again if I actually had a chance of dragging you away. It's a shame they have laws against that kind of thing these days." ...yes, even when she's on a truth serum fueled motermouthing high, she has time to fall into the increasingly familiar patterns of antagonizing and flirting.

Tag flood; tag trickle.... it's all good.

[gewehrundblut]

"...So she's only here because of those of us that you guys think need treatment? How is that- where do you- least where I'm from everyone in an asylum that's not staff is supposed to be crazy." With a final, disgusted scoff, he turns to leave. Except then she mentions that they have control over time, which, if the fact that so many of them are from different time periods is any indication, is something he's noticed as being true without whatever is making all of them speak the truth. Which makes him think for a moment; musing aloud. "But if you change who we are, then wouldn't that change our futures?" He pauses, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door to the stairwell open. For the time being, he's ignoring the part about how Linda has them convinced this is a prison and they don't need treatment, because he doesn't need any convincing that this place is exactly that. However, depending on the answer he gets to his question...

"Keh, if you're being treated the same as us 'patients', who says you gotta follow the rules of being a doctor?" A glance over his shoulder at her, coupled with a slight leer, because even if she is the enemy, she's still a rather pretty one. While some people might say sleeping with the enemy is a bad idea, he is inclined to disagree, so long as one doesn't grow attached.

"Definitely shoulda worn that dress again, though."

[thecutrperidot]

"I agree, her case is a terrible shame. I don't even know what Linda thinks she's doing! She hardly shares any of the relevant information with me anymore - beyond incredibly basic case histories, intermittent security camera access, and filter circumvention, absolutely no other special privileges. It's particularly frustrating with your kind - for almost all of you it's just given as a national history, completely ignoring the interpersonal aspect."

She almost rushes to follow him, but stops when he doesn't actually leave and only ends up a step or two closer. "Of course. In some cases that would be the entire point." And then it finally comes to her: His dissolution. Of course. Somewhat offhandedly, she adds: "Particularly yours - I'm pretty sure the others have told you how changing the future really might be in your best interest."

That leer is met with a somewhat conflicted look. "Please. I have principles." Says the woman who has observed various forms of child abuse and other human rights violations while barely batting an eyelash. "As much as I might like to-" What is this nonsense her mouth doing? That can't really be the truth serum working, can it? "I certainly won't give up on my work."

[gewehrundblut]

Ordinarily he would ask what the point of showing them how to use the filters is if she can just get around them anyways, but he really doesn't feel like continuing that part of the discussion. It seems they actually, surprisingly, agree that the person running this place is doing it wrong. The rest of it... well, it's an argument going nowhere fast, really.

He's more concerned about her response. On the one hand, it's entirely possible that changing is what causes his dissolution. On the other hand... he doesn't know for sure, and he won't know until he talks to someone who knows what happens to him. Not that just because it happens in their worlds means it will happen in his, but he figures it's reasonable to assume that if everyone who would know says he gets dissolved, then it's the most likely outcome, and if they all agree it's because of his fighting... "I'd be an idiot not to take advantage of this." He's mostly talking to himself since he can't keep the words from slipping past his lips. "Need to do a bit more reconnaisance, but... huhm." He snorts at the idea she has principles for the very reasons already prior listed.

"Yeah, well, you wanna work? Fine. Let's go." This time, his voice is pitched so she can hear, and he offers out his elbow. Not that he still sounds particularly agreeable, given how haughty his tone has become, as if he's doing her a favour by consenting to this.

[thecutrperidot]

The point of course would be to encouraged filtered conversations to take place. There are some things they just wouldn't talk about on the networks otherwise, and as she'd stated that format was much more convenient for her. If the security cameras were arranged in a more convenient fashion, that might be a completely different story.

She stands by tapping her foot as he deliberates, not trying too hard to pick up on what exactly he's saying. His answer lights up her eyes like it's Christmas day. He is doing her a favor by consenting to this: By all rights he could refuse, leaving her with nothing to do but perhaps entice Ashura to come and talk to her new healer friend. But she's going to finally be able to talk to a patient and take notes openly and he'll be high on truth serum and ahhhhhhhh, she's so giddy she might just faint right here.

She takes his arm with a smile that reaches her eyes more than any other he's ever seen from her. "You really mean it? Well, of course you do, given the current experiment, but--" Gosh why is finally getting to do her work making her so incoherent. "We should go upstairs to the library, she recently took a little bit of mercy on me and set up some very nice rooms there that'll be just perfect."

[gewehrundblut]

For a moment, he wonders just what exactly he's agreed to, but not only could he not say he didn't want to the moment he decided on agreeing, he felt utterly compelled to voice his decision. So he'll go bad idea later, hopefully he'll be able to revoke that consent. "What kinda rooms?" He leads the way, making sure to open every door for her until they get to the library. Since he has no real idea where these rooms might be located, alas, she'll have to forgive him for not immediately bolting to that door and opening it for her as well.

[thecutrperidot]

"Oh, they lock from the inside and they have these very nice psychotherapeutic couches. Almost as comfortable as beds without the associated psychological baggage." She's almost said enough that she can stop talking too fast, but those sentences are still half-babbled happily. Honesty just comes with this lovely little floating feeling.

His confusion at which room would be which makes her hide a laugh behind her free hand. "The one on the left," she says, gesturing. No, she doesn't reach forward and open it; it's kind of nice getting all these doors opened for her, even if the behavior is indicative of a somewhat troubling bifurcation of how he deals with women and men. "You'll know the reading rooms when you see them, those doors with the frosted glass windows. They're all the same."

[gewehrundblut]

He heads over to the indicated door, opening it for her dutifully. The fact that she would consider his behaviour as indicative of a problem would go right over his head if he knew that. He's merely trying to be a gentleman. "I don't think a couch could be as comfy as a bed... besides, why would you wanna be that comfortable?"

After a moment's deliberation, he selects the leftmost of the reading rooms. Yes, he gets that door for her also. "So, how's this psychoanalysis thing supposed to work?"

[thecutrperidot]

"Studies have shown that medical treatment works best when the patient is completely relaxed." She enters the door and, once they're both through, locks it behind them. Ah, how exciting. The lights are still on, fortunately. Otherwise it would be too hard to write.

"Please, lie down." She gestures to a couch and will, in a moment, sit down upright on one opposite him. "The basic idea is that in conversation I help you to articulate thoughts about your mindset, and so doing help you to better understanding of yourself. In addition this will eventually help me to discover potential courses of treatment." She takes out her notebook and faintly taps the pencil against its cover, eager to begin note-taking.

[gewehrundblut]

"Oh, huh. Guess that makes sense." He flops down on the couch, grinning when he sinks just slightly into the cushioning. It's quite soft. In fact, good luck separating him from the couch any time soon. With a content noise, he settles on his side, snuggling against the plush surface beneath him. "So, süße, what are we gonna talk about? I mean, obviously my awesome self, ja, but that's a very broad topic."

Through translucent eyelashes, he peeks up at her. The effect on anyone else might be innocent, possibly even coy. It's doubtful it appears as such on him, however, if the rakish smirk gracing his lips reflects in any way on his overall appearance.

[thecutrperidot]

She opens up her notebook to the first clean page following the map of Europe. There'll definitely be much too much to write about him in this lovely context to fit onto a small little corner that almost gets caught in the crease between pages. Idly writing down a note indicating that what follows will be the product of their first session, she continues to speak to him.

"Hmmmm. Well, I had been intending to get some nice solid background information, like about exactly how you handled the transition from the Teutonic Order to your current state. I mean, really, it was Catholic, and your current behavior clearly reflects the change. But given the absolutely delightful opportunity offered by the truth serum, there is the alternate path of asking you any questions I can think of that you'd be otherwise reluctant to answer..." She is relatively immune to the rakishness of his expression, but it is in a strange way mirrored by the almost sadistic eagerness with which she contemplates all of the terribly revealing topics she could pose for discussion.

[gewehrundblut]

The sight of the notebook makes him sit up slightly to lean forward in genuine interest. She had mentioned notes, so it comes as no surprise that she'll be writing things down. "Will I be able to see those? I wanna know what you think."

"Tch, Catholic doesn't mean chaste or pure. Besides, technically I'm some kind of Protestant -don't ask me what kind; I stopped caring about a century ago- and that hardly reflects in my behaviour. As far as how I dealt with the change... I just did. I didn't really have any say in the matter." Note how he's rambling about what she originally intended to ask. It's the best deflection he can think of at the moment, because he knows he won't be able to not answer or lie about questions he doesn't want to answer. Especially since she looks far too pleased over the situation; God knows he's now mentally running through everything she might know to be curious about.

The sad part is that the waffling on Annuska was actually only about half the prep time of this tag.

[thecutrperidot]

"You can look if you want to." She shifts her grip on the notebook to let it fall open to a page filled with writing on TSH-866-001 and TSH-801-059. Incomprehensible, most likely, except for those IDs and perhaps their names. "But I'm not sure you'll be able to read them. They're in Hungarian. That was the entire point of doing it that way, of course, in case someone found them and got suspicious. Although there's also the fact that I haven't had the opportunity to speak my native tongue for years and years and years. It's been over a decade since anyone has called me Annuska, would you believe that? I've never understood what was so hard about it. A-nush-ka. I suppose they could never get past the orthography. Oh, well, after enough time you just don't care anymore; at least not as much, it'll always be at least somewhat slighting. But that's just one of the little sacrifices of living in a global society."

Ah, god, she just went on another truth-serum fueled little high for thirty seconds or so, didn't she. "...I'm terribly sorry about that." Ahahahaha Truth serum. It just kind of does that. "Please, continue elaborating on the lack of contradiction between chastity and Catholicism - I find it striking. My assumption had been you would have held such dogma close to your heart as the living spirit of a Catholic organization." She's not going to be deterred. There has to be some really good stuff there. Trysts in confessionals, a fixation on crosses, negative associations with weddings. Something. Although if there isn't she could always bring up Romano or the poor whores or the loss of his virginity or Fritz or... she could literally do this all day. (There is now the faint, indelible thought in the back of her mind that somehow all four of those topics are part of the same story. It is, after all, technically just barely within the realm of possibility, assuming that she has his chronology right, which there's a very good chance she doesn't. Anyway it would also be kind of hot.)

[gewehrundblut]

He glances down at the notes curiously. As she said, the notes are in Hungarian. He squints at the letters; they're familiar enough and he thinks he remembers how to pronounce them, but he'll be damned if he knows what they mean. "Ungarisch? Huh, it's been a while since I've really had to use that language. Annuska... you married, then? Cause Simon sounds more English than Hungarian."

That line of questioning makes him chuckle a bit as he settles back down on the couch, rolling onto his stomach and pillowing his head on crossed arms. "When I was a kid, yeah, 'cause that's when I was just the German Order. Then I became the Monastic State of the Teutonic Knights, so it wasn't just the holy order any more. There were probably more people who were either barely Catholic or not Christian at all who composed me... And... I don't know. I grew up. Priorities changed. Seemed less important worrying about following dogma and canon to the letter." He scrubs his face with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thinks.

Truth be told, he doesn't think too highly of weddings and marriage, though that's more his view on commitment than anything. A sigh escapes him. "What's it matter anyhow?"

[thecutrperidot]

She raises an eyebrow at that. "No, of course not." She wiggles her ringless fingers in the air. "Everything sounds more English what with how it keeps sweeping across the world like a virus these days. Shi-mone. No, definitely not English. People keep mistaking it for that trite given name in writing, it drives me crazy. I wish it were as easy to change as first names are, but then I'd have lost my connections to home completely."

Well, that's a good time to cut herself off. She's not going to let him completely deflect her inquiry by all this hitting of her emotional triggers, no, sir. After taking a moment to note his explanation, she purses her lips curiously. "Fascinating... I had imagined some kind of overcompensating dramatic sexual awakening. That eliminates that theory as a root for your current conduct, then? Something more complicated involving bisexuality or immortality? Hmmmm." There is a slight disappointment associated with her initial hypotheses being disproved, but not too much. There would be no point in her occupation if she were always completely right the very first time.