12. ibidem

[exnihilo]

[Video, public]

For the record, these penis enlargement pills do nothing. I'd like to register a complaint.


[Infirmary spam, open to visitors, backdated to 2-4 days post-Shakespeare flood.]

[She wakes up after jumping, her skin tight and and her eyes sore and her lungs aching in her chest. She groans, rolls over, tries to sleep. Maybe she can sleep for the entire toll. She's been trying so hard to be, to live and connect. Maybe she can just not be for awhile.]

(OOC NOTE: TW for suicide if people ask her why she is tolling. Ophelia's narrative was rough on her.)


[Private to Roderick, backdated also]

...can you do me a favor?

Comments

[irishrotter]

[He pauses.]

If Mal turns your DI back on?

[He has, like, no idea what any of the words in that sentence mean, Mira.]

[exnihilo]

Oh - direct interface.

[She taps her temple.]

It's how most things work in my time. Alerts and - appliances, or whatever. The admiral turned it off too.

[irishrotter]

Is that how they...?

[exnihilo]

Oh. No, the DI is standard consumer stuff. Like a handless communicator, not - influence.

The controllers are mostly in in my ovaries and my endocrine system. The ones we've found so far.

[irishrotter]

In your--?

[Simon tries not to look slightly horrified, but he is. More than slightly, really. He'd assumed they'd be in her brain, and that's more than terrible enough, but there's something horribly invasive, too, about controlling her that way.]

Christ, Mira.

[Even Victor and John had left those parts of him alone.]

[exnihilo]

It's efficient. If you want to hack something, you use the systems it has for regulating itself.

[irishrotter]

[No wonder she wants the things out of her. Still... He wishes he trusted Cambridge more. He wishes he knew more about biology. He wishes he could be the one to save her from this.]

Try asking him, okay? If you could turn the DI on. If he still seems trustworthy...

[exnihilo]

I'll ask.

[It makes her smile, though. Being worried over.]