outer_divide | 003 ⌥ VIDEO -- saturday night

[And here's Shepard, out in the fog but you can tell she's walking briskly (presumably back toward the Flop) by the slight rhythmic sway of the camera. But she has SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY, so listen up.]

If you hear this, you need to get inside and keep your door shut. There's something in this fog--the residents are all clearing the streets, and I think I saw a few putting on gas masks.

I repeat, if you hear this, you need to-... [A pause in which keeping a straight face seems difficult, and then she's busting up laughing.] You need to put on a skirt and stand on your head or something, because shit, I don't get why the hell you all listen to me, anyway. [By 'listen to' she means 'generally take orders from', and she distinctly remembers it making sense an hour ago, but now she's had an epiphany and it's fantastic.

Meanwhile, she tames the laughter down to an ecstatic grin, and in a tone that ~~probably~~ definitely makes you wonder what she's planning next and if you should duck and cover, she offers just two words:]

Shepard out.

[End transmission.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, of course we are. [By contrast, he is giving absolutely No Fucks about it.] You're not about to tell me this sort of thing is naturally occurring?

[Although, imagine if it were.] Oh, God. Wouldn't that be heaven.

[She only gave fucks because fifteen years of military has her profoundly well-trained to give fucks.] Hell if I know. S'not like this'd be the weirdest shit I've seen.

[To the 'heaven' comment, she's just grinning, it doesn't quite occur to her that he can't see it. Not that she'd want him to anyway, she's pretty sure her contract says she's supposed to dislike him or something.]

Oh yes, because you're all masters of weird shit here. Aliens and telepathy and little blue Smurfs, for all I know. Tell me all about the weird shit, Commander.

Hey, just aliens here. Hearing what goes on in everyone's heads? That'd drive me nuts.

You would think so.

[His voice gets quieter, more distant. He's talking more to himself than her.]

You would think so, at first. All those voices chattering away inside your mind, no room to think for yourself... Imagine if you couldn't control it. Drowning in other people's thoughts. You would have to go out of your mind eventually. Either that or grow accustomed to it.

Makes me wonder how they do it, y'know? [Don't misjudge by her slightly more coherent words--she's totally twirling slowly down the street right now, you just can't tell on audio. (Nobody can see, she ~~thinks she~~ made sure.)]

Wouldn't be so hard, for someone with a strong enough mind. Learn to filter out the extraneous noise, focus on what's important, and the rest becomes nothing more than a backdrop. A baseline. Constant. The hum and chatter of everyday life, like guideposts.

[Did that make sense? Welp, it did in his head.]

[A long pause as she thinks about it, really thinks. Then:] ...Sounds awful familiar, when you put it like that. [Not the telepathy part, but the suppressing-something-foreign-in-your-mind thing.]

Oh, pfff. You don't know. You've got the smallest possible idea, with all that empty space around it. Don't try to trick me. I can see it.

[It's a good thing it's audio-only; Shepard's tilting her head and biting her lip a little, an amused rendition of an expression that can only be described as 'oh yeah, tough guy?'

When she speaks, she's just the tiniest bit more lucid.]

I like how you pretend you know me. It's real cute.

I know you've grown up around war. That it's been all you've known for a significant portion of your life. I know you think of yourself as a leader, not only because of your title or because other people seem willing to follow you, but because of the responsibility involved. I know you've lost people: too many people, more than most soldiers, even high-ranking ones. More than friends.

[Pause, then with a low laugh, almost teasing:] ...oh. Don't tell me it's that simple.

It's not. But nice try.

[Don't get her wrong, he's totally right. On all of it, actually. But that's like reading the back cover blurb and saying you read the whole book. Everything he said stems from the simple fact that she knows war. Responsibility and rank, losing the people you love... That's war for you, plain and simple.]

So this 'life-story' thing, is that... what, a hobby? I hope that's not your paying job.

[Still laughing. He's not finished yet.]

He never knew. Maybe you didn't, either. Not until it was too late.

Who? [Her brain's still muddled and to be honest she's kind of on the verge of busting up giggling despite the ~seriousness~ of the conversation, but she manages to sound 'together' enough for this exchange at the very least.]

You tell me, Commander.

[A sigh like he's settling back, getting more relaxed. He's managed to hold back his laughter for the time being, but this is all being said through a smirk.]

It'd have to be someone on your squad. You'd barely have a social life outside of it, probably none at all. Someone you'd been working with a long time. He would have had to sneak in under your radar to get behind that so carefully-guarded military wall. Even once he did, you would have kept your distance. A close watch. Cede nullis, or however your military puts it.

Has he actually died yet, or have we managed to avoid the inevitable?

[The mirth is gone now, completely and thoroughly. And for a good ten, maybe fifteen seconds, there's silence.

And then she lets out a harsh breath of laughter, but it's definitely not the euphoric kind from even five minutes ago. Harshly:] Goddamn it-- [And she's looking to turn the device off, abrupt as it might be, but god, she can't even process how right now so it's just a bunch of buttonmashing and fumbling so go ahead and get your last few jabs in, you smug smug asshole.]

[He was right about all of it, wasn't he? His laughter is just as giddy as before, although the way she perceives it may have changed.]

Call me 'cute' now. You haven't got a clue.

Neither do you, so just-, just don't even-- [The haze in her brain wasn't so bad when she had the situation in the palm of her hand. But then he mentioned the 'him' and now she can't get it out of her head and the fact that she can't pull coherent thought together just makes that so much worse, and--

There's an utterly frustrated growl through her teeth, the brief but distinct sounds of the communicator going airborne, then a hideously loud crunch and the transmission goes dead.

Because clearly, when you can't turn the damn thing off, the only option left is to hurl it against a nearby building.]

003 ⌥ VIDEO -- saturday night

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