repeatedprayer: (prolonged sabbaticals)
A copy. ([personal profile] repeatedprayer) wrote in [community profile] thehauntedfrequency2024-03-04 10:16 pm

doggone

[In the time following his departure from Tabito and Manabu's company, the alias "Grey" has wound up sticking.

Not that everyone calls him that, he's used a few other aliases since then, but it's what he's wound up thinking of himself as. If Grey had taken the time to think about it a bit more he might have picked something with a little less connection to Rezo's name, but it's still leagues better than thinking of himself as "Rez- wait, no, just a copy." And maybe that's why he's felt significantly calmer since he left Sairaag.

By his own standards, Grey has been laudably well-behaved; sure, he's been mostly doing under-the-table psychic work, often on behalf of criminals, but! He's been trying to keep a low profile so it's usually things like clairvoyant spying rather than anything violent, and he's been making a point of not doing anything that directly impacts the galaxy railways.

It would be extremely awkward if Manabu Yuuki had to try and arrest him, after all.

He's found himself frequently thinking about Manabu, much to his annoyance. He has no serious expectations of ever seeing Manabu again, so it's simply a waste of mental bandwidth to find himself wondering what Manabu is doing right now or where he is, or to reminisince over their incredibly brief acquaintanceship. Grey can only suppose that because Manabu was the first reasonably normal person he got to know after leaving Sairaag that Manabu is going to stick out in his mind for a while.

And it's probably because of the real estate that Manabu is hogging in Grey's mind that he's been very aware of every mention of the SDF that crosses his path. He hasn't exactly been tracking the SDF's activities deliberately, but he does pay attention to the news and the SDF frequently winds up in there, even if Manabu's name in particular isn't normally dropped.

Until the day it does.

SDF Officer Taken Hostage By Pirates]


* * *

[It's taken several weeks of investigating, but Grey has been able to track down The Huntress's client, a Dr. Parish and associates. It must be a small galaxy, because Dr. Parish is someone Grey knows. Sort of.

Rather, Dr. Parish was a colleague of Rezo's who collaborated with the man on chimera research (and other unsavory things) in the past. Not only that, the man was an ardent admirer of Rezo's superior psychic prowess, and desperate to improve his own meager abilities.

He'd had quite a shock when Grey approached him in town, but after the initial surprise it had been sickeningly easy to convince Dr. Parish that he was the real Rezo. Grey can only surmise that the man wants to believe too badly to let himself be properly suspicious. It had only taken a day for Grey to be invited to tour Parish's laboratory.

The lab's located on the grounds of a former Marquess's estate, a ways out of town and secluded by trees, a high wall, and a long drive. Grey's done a little recon before, but actually being here is different, especially since he has to navigate by cane at the moment. Grey is doing his best to politely nod and smile as Parish guides him from room to room, explaining their work and occasionally handing him things to examine himself.

But evidently Parish realizes that "Rezo" isn't entirely interested, because he stops partway through an explanation of some stem cell experiments he and a few others have been working on to say "Of course, the really interesting specimens are kept in the basement floor."

Grey already knows this. He hopes his expression seems the right sort of eager.]


Interesting?

["Something along the lines of what we did in the past. Would you like to see them?"]

Nothing would please me more.

[Grey can practically hear Parish's delighted grin. To soothe the surge of irritation, Grey reminds himself that he's going to kill this man before the end of the day and allows Parish to guide him out into the hall and to the basement entrance at the back of the building.]
siriusly: (they just keep on talking...)

[personal profile] siriusly 2024-03-05 12:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[things like this happen far faster than anyone can process, even if hindsight would lead one to believe the signs had been there to read. Manabu wasn't a stranger to things going sideways (or through him, honestly), but a body of experience doesn't lead a body to be fully ready to countermeasure anything. that's why he's part of a team - everyone looks out for each other.

sometimes the time itself is entirely taken unawares, and no amount of precision reaction timing - even from an android - can account for everything.

he'd never blame them for missed signs, never resent a missed shot or unseen flanking movement. even when things go south (and boy, did they ever), he knows everyone is dedicated to doing their best for each other and the people they mean to protect.

it's better that it was him caught than any passengers.

he really, really hopes there are no passengers in this place...whatever this place is.

his world's gone from as vast as a galaxy to as small as a stark, windowless room of concrete - solitary confinement for crimes he can't even imagine being deserving of such punishment. if there's a world beyond the concrete, he's never allowed to see it - especially since his first impulse when the door opened the second time no answers were given was to lunge at the orderlies and get into a brawl. even restrained to a gurney, Manabu is blindfolded whenever he's moved. it's scary...he can't deny being scared, he'd be stupid to pretend, but he's just as angry. whatever they're doing to him, they've done to others, haven't they?

...haven't they?

...

...what are...they doing to him?

for a while, it felt just like imprisonment. maybe ransom? he's an SDF officer - perhaps they were thinking HQ would play ball for some monetary sum? - but then the examinations started. physical, psychological...

what are you guys on about?

time's gotten even muddier since the drugs started happening. maybe earlier? he can't rule out the food they served being spiked as a preamble to everything that followed, but admittedly, he can't...rule much of anything, given the foggy state of his senses. in and out of consciousness, sometimes floating, sometimes on fire, but always with that heavy press of dread that reminds him that this is all wrong, that something bad is happening, and he needs to rip himself out of the restraints and get out of here.

what are you doing to me?!

he's not even given chance to sit up and eat anymore. when's the last time he ate anything? tubes, machines, thrumming sounds and muffled voices... now and then, lucidity breaks through anesthetic clouds: lots of science-y words that don't click, animal talk? who is Rezo?

my head...hurts...my body hurts...

the day this "Rezo" comes calling, it's another hazy, nebulous, drug-addled day - procedure prep, which means keeping Manabu snowed enough to avoid flailing or fighting or removing tubes, but lucid enough to respond to necessary stimulus prior to going completely under - the staff need to show off the responsiveness of modified features, after all.

he can smell the antiseptic, dimly hear tools clicking... the operation lights burn behind his eyelids.

again? what are you DOING to me?!

being aware that he's in trouble is one thing, making his body respond to the danger is another; he can barely twitch a toe or clench his jaw like this.

if any credit is due his captors, they at least haven't starved him: he's still healthy, even if the diet shift has slimmed him a bit. but the amount of time tied down as he's been is going to promote weakness from unused muscles...not that those matter, when the focus is on what was added, what was altered and grafted onto his body and nervous system - those are what they mean to show off.

the less said about the donor of those ears and tail, the better, honestly; they've suffered enough.]