A copy. (
repeatedprayer) wrote in
thehauntedfrequency2024-03-04 10:16 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.]
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.]
no subject
eventually, that form feels more like the restraints or the orderlies grappling to pin him back down; Manabu's tail twitches and thumps at Grey before the rest of him starts to stir restlessly, easy sleep-breathing broken up by uneasy grunts or whimpers.]
no subject
But with Manabu so close to him in the waking world, Grey doesn't remain oblivious to Manabu's twitches forever. What is that, touching his leg? Is that him whimpering, or...]
Mmn...
[Grey shifts, tilting his head. His breath hits the back of Manabu's ear.]
no subject
he's upright in a heartbeat, grasping at his neck and the collar of the shirt for threat of a restraint or a needle.]
no subject
[The violence of Manabu's jolting is enough to throw Grey out of his sleep. He rolls onto his back, his heart pounding and his eyes wide but unfocused. Everything's dim, and hazy, and it takes him a moment to focus on the writhing figure beside him, and for the memories from last night to filter in enough to make it click.]
Manabu?!
[Still dazed from the sudden awakening, Grey pulls himself upright.]
no subject
[he grits his teeth, clenching his jaw painfully tight in a bid to stop from gasping fruitlessly for air until he's gotten a few seconds under him.] Can't-- [talk.] Sorry--
no subject
...It's alright. [He peers at Manabu, trying to work out how bad the panic is.]
You must have been having a nightmare. [Is that why he didn't want to sleep? Was he worried about this happening?]
no subject
[he curls his hands into fists, trying to will the feeling back into them while he breathes in, desperately holds it, lets it out in shaky exhales.
he nods, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes when he feels himself choking up. it's not right to be a mess, when logically he's safe; he's burden enough--]
Dammit. [man up!!!] Dammit-!
no subject
[Grey winces a little; the reassurance seems feeble in the face of Manabu's clearly Not Alright state of mind. But there's little else he's capable of when there's no immediate threat.]
You're safe. Everything's going to be fine. I'm here. I'm... [Is having Grey there reassuring or not?]
no subject
[Grey is there...and he shouldn't be. he killed people he shouldn't have. because Manabu messed up, couldn't handle himself, couldn't think up any way to escape, or leave some breadcrumbs for his platoon, or--]
I...I need to be grateful... [he draws his still-trembling hands away from himself, clenching and unclenching them again.] That I'm not. There. [or dead.] And stop...thinking about it. [he shakes his head.] I can't stop. Thinking about it. My head. My ears...
no subject
...
[If the issue is that Manabu can't stop thinking about what happened, what can Grey do about it? To his surprise, he does remember hearing about this sort of thing... Rezo was more of a physician than a psychiatrist, but there's enough overlap that Grey knows a few things. He's never actually had to use them on anyone else, but. He supposes he can make an effort.
Grey shifts a little where he sits, trying not to feel self-conscious.]
Alright, well... Do you know any grounding techniques?
no subject
he wipes at his eyes, unable to keep them from welling up and spilling over despite the shame.]
Ss...something stupid? Or, or out of left-field...
no subject
The idea is to distract yourself, to pull your thoughts away from whatever's bothering you and into the present. Either through focusing on your senses, or through simple mental exercises, such as going over the times tables backwards.
no subject
that's kind of endearing. funny.]
Baseball... [he sniffs.] Uhh. Play-players whose cards I had, growing up. Umh...
[they were so important to him growing up - especially the ones he inherited from his dad. he could've recited them top to bottom at one point! but that was so long ago...
still, he rattles off a few names he can recall - favorites whether by name or position or team...
his hands stop trembling quite so intensely, and he can talk without needing to break for a heavy breath every few seconds.]
no subject
None of the names Manabu recites mean a goddamn thing to Grey, but he still nods along and makes the occasional "Mm-hm?" noise as an attempt at encouragement.
Grey himself starts feeling better as he notices Manabu's voice growing steadier, and he stops feeling the minute shakes in the bed from Manabu's trembling.
Once Manabu runs out of names, Grey prompts him with another exercise.]
Can you tell me what the rules of baseball are?
no subject
no subject
Well I know the gist, just not the specifics. I've never played or watched a game.
[It's not that weird, right?? Lots of people aren't the sporty sort! Especially if they're cloned from people who grew up blind!]
no subject
his eyes wince.] Not watched? Ever? Not, not even in passing? [GREY........................THAT'S SADDER THAN BEING A LAB FREAK.................]
no subject
He still attempts to defend himself:]
I've heard it described in books, sometimes. It isn't as if I've never heard of it!
no subject
well, the panic attack is over. this is clearly more important than body horror.]
...We gotta get you to see a game. There's no way explaining it can be better, and it, it makes more sense to see it...
no subject
But also glad he's no longer freaking out.]
With the way you speak of it, I expect to experience a divine revelation when we're there.
no subject
no subject
[He smirks.]
And here I thought you didn't have any interests outside of work. Now I definitely have to see a game, if it's spectacular enough to capture even your interest.
[Man it's good to be giving Manabu shit again.]
no subject
I, I have interests! It's not weird to want to work hard, though...!
[his tail thumps, betraying a bit of eagerness to get egged on.]
no subject
No, it definitely is. You know most people complain about having to work at all.
no subject
[he hesitates, glancing over his shoulder at the tail.]
And...I don't know how...I'm supposed to face anyone like this...actually...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...