addicted to the knife

The first piece of evidence he finds, is something that he discovers immediately on his way into the room. He does a more thorough investigation of the evidence – if you can even call doing something as simple as following a trail a “thorough investigation” –  while he speaks. 

“Patronizing you? I was being sarcastic.”

The trail leads from the machines to the entrance way – it wouldn’t real make much sense for it to be the other way around (unless the blood wasn’t Clive’s like he immediately assumed it was.) Maybe Farenton was attacked while he was distracted by the slot machines…? He can’t really say for sure, considering his investigation only started a short while ago.

His previous investigations have all been based on hunches and educated first guesses, and it seems as though now is no different.

When Yukiko changed the subject, it became difficult to catch her strings of thought as she ran them by him, as she spoke tangent after tangent. Yukiko needed to slow down so he could process what she was trying to say, but that went unspoken. Whatever, he’s just a person who makes coffee, what does he know, right? It doesn’t really seem like she wanted his input anyway, she likely just wanted to talk aloud.

He just clings to one part of what she said and replies to that –  “so perhaps he interrupted the culprit in the disposal of evidence.”

“In that case, there could still be evidence in the… kitchen. The body discovery and the time of death don’t really have that big of a gap, right?” 

He double checked Takashi’s time of death on the Monofile – and found that they found the body only four minutes after his murder. Clive’s time of death and body discovery weren’t too far apart, but Takashi’s were much closer together.

“Maybe they didn’t have enough time to dispose of the evidence completely after… ah, dealing with Takashi…”

Whether or not that was so – the state of the kitchen, including the body laying dead on the counter-top (or was it the stove?), gave him a feeling of dread with just the thought of returning.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t notice ELLA’s absence for the first discovery, but they were standing there idly around the time we found Takashi. I guess they should be questioned at some point…”

All these connections seemed to suggest they – or at least one of pair – would have to return, despite his internal dismay of the idea.

“Pay out? I don’t have a clue, I’ve never been here before now. Why does that matter?”

It was just their luck, wasn’t it? Here they were, just wanting to get a refill of tea, when suddenly the kitchen manages to become both a crime scene and a potential fire hazard. A rather curious crime scene, from what they had examined, but still one that prevented them from inquiring a beverage for the investigation.

And, when they had decided to travel to the entertainment district to try and acquire something from the bar, what did they come across but another body. Perhaps it was Clive they could blame for the particularly sour luck they had, his death having released all of the poor fortune he possessed and spreading it across the group. Hopefully, that wouldn’t extend to the case at hand.

The sound of voices within the casino alerted them to Yukiko and Hideki’s presence. They did not pay it much mind while they were examining Clive, well until their name came up in conversation. Lovely, what were the chances that their absence made them a murder suspect? Obviously rather high, might as well give that alibi now.

They move into the entrance of the casino, adjusting their glasses and examining  the scene around them.

“...Yes. Maybe. Maybe. Yes again. The bloody trail. Leading to these slot machines that suggest at least one jackpot. May possibly have something to do with that. Hideki-shi. I doubt this was a popular tourist spot. This is probably unprecedented anyway. We’ll get it from the machine.”

Speaking of getting things from machines, here came E.L.L.A., apparently attracted to the prospect of ruthlessly being interrogated. Jabbing her cane into the slot machine to help her stand up fully, accompanied with a hiss of pain and general soreness, Yukiko squinted over the other slot machines and jabbed an accusatory finger in her direction. More ouch.

“The usual set. In that everyone is the usual set. Who would do anything that didn’t involve this. Maybe it’s not so much of a problem. If you can be reconstituted from scratch. You will go over the reason for your absence now. I have not specifically looked over the body. And I’m not. Going to. I’m hardly the only person with eyes. And I haven’t seen anything I decided was the weapon already.” Well, there was one guess, but to bring it up yet would be silly.

…

…he didn’t quite have the heart to investigate a body right now (but it’s not like he really ever really would, who would be able to examine a dead body as easily as they could do anything else?), considering he was barely able to glance at the least gruesome of the two scenes. Instead, he chose to do a less personal form of investigation, and steps into the casino that Clive laid near.

The “Sugar Rush Casino” or whatever, certainly had an interior that fit the name, but it was incredibly contrasting to the gloom and doom nature of Apollo Luna. Maybe he just stepped into a portal to another dimension and left Apollo Luna. After all, this place didn’t really befit the entertainment district, if you compared it to places such as the clinic and the bar, which both looked like they were going to collapse on themselves at any moment.

Despite acknowledging Yukiko’s presence in the casino, he doesn’t do anything to voluntarily catch her attention – this is so that he can leave as soon as he’s done with his investigation here. He examines the countertops and card tables, and checks to see if anything that may have been left on the floor.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask. For the culprit to just come forward. And recognize this is all a futile effort.”

Wow…! Was that supposed to be funny? Because that was the least funny thing he’s heard all day! And that’s saying something!

“Huh, I never thought of trying that before, Yukiko. Is it really as easy as asking for a confession to catch a killer…? You should have told me I was doing it wrong this whole time, then.”

Well, uh, so much for leaving as soon as possible.

“We’ve all done this before. You don’t have to patronize me. It would simply be easier than all this pomp and circumstance. Because the end result will always be the same. If you think it was an attempt to be funny then it’s on you. Come over here.”

She snapped over her shoulder like a snooty woman calling a dog, revealing exactly where she’d gone between the rows of machines.

“The current problem available to us is...why two people were killed in the offered time frames. First Farenton-shi was killed, and then he was discovered, a display that brought most of the student body running. Koiwai-shi was notably there and left on his own. Lemnos-shi was not there--if not, where? Then, twenty minutes after Farenton-shi’s discovery, Koiwai-shi is discovered back in the first area, on the stove. Meant to obscure...or to draw attention once more, a timed assault? There would be no reason for a second person to kill Koiwai-shi. So perhaps he interrupted the culprit in the disposal of evidence. Lemnos-shi reappeared there, actually. I doubt you spoke to them. It will be necessary.”

“That, you are right. But then again, unless people are wired to say what comes first in their mind, we are never given full disclosure of their actions. Or.. at least the motives revolving them.”

  At this point in time did Nikki find that stimulating conversation would be the remedy for her hesitance. Her attempts regarding social interaction were a bit fickle, but once you’ve found the momentum, she was bound to go full-throttle into the topic. Even if the stakes of angering the other had the potential of being raised.

“Hm.. Well, didn’t everyone get here through mental, perhaps even spiritual means? That is to say if it wasn’t for the  passion and functionality of one, I don’t think they’d have been able to get here! Unless they gained  passage of privilege for some reason or so. That’s always a possibility. –But besides the point! For those who worked to get here through intended networks or not, it’s all about whether you can find the drive in your mind to pursue whatever it is you want to do.”

“I--spiritual? Please tell me that was not. Some kind of validation of our most recent, entirely insane murderess. Or any other reason for that word. Really. If you don’t redact it in the next few seconds. I might whap you over the head or something.”

She did brandish her cane, but it was a thoroughly nonthreatening and anger-free action, like she was trying to scare off a nearby bird. For all that she was constantly bitter and insulting, true rage came rarely, and it wasn’t going to come about thanks to a single bad memory of Tsukiko.

“All but Farenton-shi, who is specifically singled out of this one. One almost hopes he’ll be the sacrificial lamb this round. Just out of spite. And everyone would be talentless without their brains, yes. Perhaps a lobotomy is in store for us all. But then that had to go out of its way to make itself seem creative in its. Charming examples.”

She was almost so busy grumbling to herself about the shitty arrangement that “It’s all about whether you can find the drive in your mind to pursue whatever it is you want to do” hit her as a delayed reaction. An obvious reaction--her eyes narrowed, her posture straightened, and her cane jabbed once again in Nikki’s direction, this time more purposeful and actually within whapping range.

The crowd in the movie theater was quick to disperse following MonoMANU’s announcement. Though some lingered behind to have their questions answered, it was not long before the area was abandoned, left behind for better spaces to properly realize the severity of the motive, and what exactly was at stake… Well, almost abandoned. E.L.L.A finds themselves wandering the theater, examining the posters of films long gone hanging upon it’s pristine walls. A exact replica of a mid-twentieth century cinema, a precise copy of architecture near extinct due to the combination of destruction caused by The Tragedy, and the plain disrepair and rot 164 years could bring, and they couldn’t even get themselves to properly focus on it. A shame, really. The removal of something vital to your talent…in their case, they found it somewhat hard to be concerned. Replacements for lost IO parts were easy to come by now in days, so it wasn’t as if disabling their eyes, or ears, or whatever else was required in order to properly observe others would be permanent. Yes, they doubted their captor would provide these things to them so easily, but with the added factor of a mysterious benefactor attempting to rescue them, they doubted they could really be inconvenienced for very long. If they were drawn in the lottery, all that had to be done was adapt. Adapt and ensure that they won’t be seen as a potential target for murder- The sound of footsteps upon tiles interrupt their thoughts, finding themselves turning to see where they had originated from.

“Well, I have quite obviously not left. And I see a crumbling building with far too many seats. That is just reminding us in its current state. Of how useless we are as individuals. At changing the situation we are in. Now at the mercy of a glorified signpost. And a series of text messages. The most fun I’ve ever had.”

In truth, she’d been thinking as she wandered around by herself about her own talent and the much less serious plight of the robots, alternating just as the anger from each was about to reach a fever pitch. There was nothing wrong with anger--it was how you knew you were human, how you knew you were alive. But she’d already been reminded of that too often lately. It would be nice if she could stop for a moment.

It took her a few minutes to realize the reason Yukiko wasn’t helping was because she was a limp noodle. Haruka made a silent note of that. It meant she could probably do some damage if she really wanted or had to. But all of that wasn’t relevant right now. Dropping her water bottle and shoving past the surgeon, she ran over to Takashi.

“Alright alright I’m here. Hang on.”

Haruka, finally walked in and was able to lend a hand. This was both good and bad. Good, because it meant he wouldn’t die where he lay, but bad because it was Haruka. Takashi was being saved by a girl who he was friendly with, but hadn’t met with enough times to have her form a full opinion of him. This would no doubt leave a negative impression of him. 

With the assistance of Haruka and the increased rage brought on from Yukiko’s statement, the dumbell came up and was dropped with a clang back into place on the rack. Takashi didn’t move at first, or rather couldn’t, frozen in place by fear, embarrassment, and the physical inability to do with the lack of oxygen he was receiving. When he was able to swing his legs off the bench and sit up for them, he didn’t look either of them in the eyes, but just continued to pant. Takashi looked like he was going to fall asleep, or possible pass out given the situation, with his body bent and relaxing and eyes drooping shut, but after a couple moments, he was able to push a phrase out of his mouth.

“Is it just the potential destruction of the body. That leads to everyone trying to cram a lifetime of working out. Into one day. How many more people can we expect to come in here.” Adjusting Moe’s hat and purposefully staring into an uninhabited corner just as Takashi was avoiding looking at either of them, she continued to talk as though nothing potentially dangerous or embarrassing or stupid had just happened. “You I could understand. Doing...that.” Though she still didn’t look up, she had to have been referring to Haruka. “But how many people here are either intellectual-focused. Or made entirely of mechanical parts already.”

“Hrrngh! Hrraaah!”

25. Takashi was letting himself go. He hadn’t been through a hardy workout since his root beer meltdown with Hideki. It seemed like nobody else could see but himself (which was the case), though Takashi could feel a Russian gut forming by his stomach. 26. He had blamed the situation, and being too busy working out his brain coming up with ideas to get off of the christing moon! Admittedly, that does take considerable thought, but was no excuse he would take for becoming lax with his exercise. Why the sudden motivation. however? Well, that’s the word right there. Motive. 27.

The title of Marine Biologist isn’t tied to a specific part of the body. What would MonoMANU do to him in the event that he was unlucky enough to be chosen? Maim his limbs, cut out his tongue, or if they decided to not bother thinking which part mattered more to him, than simply lobotomized. Takashi didn’t like either option, but murder would always be the worse, in any scenario. 28. Speaking of, both scenarios required him to be in peak physical shape. Whether it was assisting in their escape, which would happen, or resisting whatever crippling punishment he may receive, his health was more important than ever. And as Takashi struggled to have his arms support his 29th rep of the sixty-something kilogram weight, he thought himself as too weak to do save anything. His goal… was thirty… and after he hit that he could start to work out his-

“OOooowwfffffffFFF-!!”

She wouldn’t have entered the gym, though, if it hadn’t been for the loud...mysterious pained sound she heard on the way past. Surely no one would have cracked so quickly, especially to attack that guy. Powered only by morbid curiosity, she shouldered the door open, only to see...Takashi Koiwai, pinned underneath his own weight like a snail under a shoe. It would have been gratifying if it weren’t so bizarre.

It was in due time the robot caught up to them. Then again, Nikki found herself in the helpless situation of listening and staring. Prior to the event involving the anonymous contactor, being a skeptic in these trying times certainly counted towards one common, if futile, cause. So she listened, the gruesome words entailing the mutilation of one of her friends ringing in her ears. She wouldn’t stand for it. How could she? Besides… What was there to take away from her of she were placed on that pedestal? Her hands? Considering how expendable someone with her occupation in this day in age was, the removal of one world-renown bioengineer didn’t waiver the work force.

By penalty, she’d have spared one of her peers from that brutality but…. by chance, she’d spare the countless of lives in dire need of such mechanical, perhaps bodily, aid. That is, if she made it out alive.

Now that that had vanished again, there was nothing left to do but entertain inane questions anyway. Or at the very least work on compiling the most vile insult possible in the known universe. Hopefully the interaction could be used for something.

“This is a seething hotbed of cyborg activity already. Isn’t it. Nakano-shi. The worst that would happen should anyone end up grievously maimed by this. Is that some things get slightly more inconvenient. That or the dysphoria drives them insane. There are many things a person doesn’t need to be a surgeon.”

Purin had little to think about when it came to the mysterious message from an equally mysterious sender. After the initial surprise and commotion had ended, they found themselves pondering more important things, such as where to get their exercise in and how to handle everyone’s reactions to them being maskless.

So that was how they found themselves climbing a tree in the entertainment district’s park. At the base of the pine tree was Ian Fleming, the electric teenager’s electric sheep. It was doing its own sheep thing, just as usual. Purin walked it sometimes for the extra company (and to have an audience). Plus, in theory it was a good attack sheep. In practice, though, they failed to notice Ian Fleming stir until they themselves spotted Yukiko.

“Hey, Yu– Licorice-chan! Ufufufu, think fast!”

She did not die on the way up. It took far too long, and she started cursing herself aloud in a wheeze a tenth of the way up, and by the time she finally got to the top she’d stopped and sat on the steps multiple times, trying to get her limbs to stop shaking from the exertion...but she made it. Not even her pride could alleviate the sting but she was there. She might as well suck it up and get a good look around from the best view in the stupid dome.

She had barely even peered into the park when a shouted warning reached her too late and a flying pine cone smacked her upside the head. The worst part was it very nearly sent her reeling to the ground, but she ended up backing into a nearby tree instead, then hiding behind it, presumably on the opposite side of Purin’s hiding place. Her whole body already ached, she didn’t fucking need this.

“Umm… ri-right, of course. I get it… um… sometimes I have to st-stare at things for a long time to see them clearly too!”

And yet you don’t get glasses. Unsure whether he’s missed the point or not, he comes over to grab his towel. After pulling his shoes off, leaving him in socks (perhaps he’s a bit too comfortable), he glances over at Yukiko, opening his mouth as if to say something. It would appear he was about to offer help but then thought better of it- probably a good move. Instead he busies himself neatly wrapping up his iPod and towel and tucking them under his arm. Thankfully, Yukiko gets up only moments later, making him very relieved that he hadn’t said anything.

“Oh, ahah… I can se-see how that would be a problem, yes. But, I… well, Daiki always says I’m an ok-okay cook… it’s kind of hard to burn a salad, though, be-because you never actually. Put anything near heat. Surely you can’t be tha-that bad? Sh-Should I be afraid for my life on this journey?”

“It tends to spontaneously combust. Maybe that’s what I get for quickly rubbing two cabbage bits together. Despite being mostly water they like to torment me. All of these things I am saying are jokes. I never cooked for myself before I got here. And I have not yet burned anything down yet. But I also may be slowly starving to death.”

It was amazing that some things, albinism and vague muscular problems, still could not be helped much by modern medicine, but of course she wouldn’t trade the ability to stare at his nice pigment-lacking eyes for anything. Not that that made much of a difference, since he was the one who had to deal with it. Both of them would continue squinting and staring overlong, then. And he would continue holding doors, and she would continue slowly walking through them without comment on the way to the kitchen. Routine was so nice.

“Eheheh… I’m glad to hear it! That nothing seemed wrong with it, that is… it’d probably be boring for you to sit around and watch me dance more, though. Even though you do star-stare a lot. So… do-do you want to go somewhere else? Are you, um, hungry?”

“If you’re going to go out of my way to accommodate me. Then I’ll take it. Even if nothing is particularly wrong. Except for. You know. Everything. ...And everyone stares a lot. That is what eyes are for. Especially for people who need vision correction. No one knows better how important constant staring is.”

But really, moving out already? She’d only just sat down and her own joints were for the record not amused. She probably should suggest somewhere even if all she wanted was to stay here and possibly fall asleep again, even if that would probably kill her. However, because she was a terminatrix and totally in control of her own body, she planted her cane in front of her and unsteadily got back to her feet, complete with an array of grumpy old person noises.

She supposed it was understandable. She didn’t think that it excused hate— but then again, what can ever properly justify such things? Still, it made sense, somewhat. There were things Adeline didn’t understand, and probably never would. That was simply how things were.

She just sort of stood there, looking between the floor and her sleeve and Yukiko, thinking once again. Her pause was a bit longer this time. Eventually, she spoke, quietly, barely audible if the room hadn’t been as silent as it was.

“What… do you think makes something alive, Tsuji-san…? Or, well… what makes something a person? It’s… easy to argue that it’s about having a heart and brain and flesh. It’s easy to say… that something’s not a person because it doesn’t have those qualities. But… when something has the same thoughts as a human, the same emotions… even if synthesized, aren’t they still the same, if not indistinguishably similar? I don’t know… what it’s like to be an android. What their feelings are exactly like. But… they have them, as do cyborgs. So… I think that, if something can feel the same… then they should be treated as such. Well, um… that’s just my thoughts. I know you… don’t agree. But… that’s what I believe at least.”

“They have simulated, programmed responses. They do not feel anything. This is not sentimentalism, but rather, only the truth. Robots are no more alive than those representations in the virtual reality machine. Unless you want to claim those are ‘alive’ too. In which case. We now have exceptionally little to say to each other.”

Ah, wait, there it was. The fuse was finally lit and she was facing her inevitable long-awaited explosion. You’re no different than them. Yukiko lurched back to her feet, stumbled slightly between the hospital bed and the floor, regained herself and jabbed her cane violently at Adeline. The same flat red overlay on her vision as when she was speaking to Neo nearly blinded her. Her hand groped around on the bed behind her, and she recognized the weight of a pill bottle in her hand. The throw went wide, and it smashed against the door frame with a loud rattle. Her anger was...her anger was...an only human reaction. It was fine.

“You wanted my explanation and I gave it. Or, no, you wanted a new way to tell me I was wrong. As if I had never heard that before. I told you you would not understand and you didn’t and you will never. And now I feel exceptionally unwilling to entertain you.”

At least Yukiko wasn’t lashing out. And… well, she was right. While Adeline’s feeling about her arm was more neutral, not something she’d particularly wish to have or get rid of, she’d never felt anything like that. She felt rather… sad, actually. Was that something that Yukiko had to go through…? It didn’t sound pleasant, at all.

Adeline looked at the floor, then Yukiko. Back to the floor. Back to Yukiko. She was silent for a good while, thinking of the right words to say. She took a deep breath.

“Maybe if you haven’t already gotten the message. Then there is nothing to get.” Gradually, almost without her notice, her hands drifted to the tights over her robotic leg and picked uneasily at the material. “I distrusted cyborgs first, you know. Before androids. The opposite of the usual Organic Humanity model. I was not like you, Koyama-shi. Not injured. I had always been lacking my supposed functionality. I had never known a cyborg who wasn’t ecstatic about their augments, all throughout my childhood. And my parents were...affluent, jet-setting, aggressive innovators, so I knew many. It would have been much easier to say they were the ones who were wrong rather than myself.”

“But then robots were easier to hate, because they were just a bunch of those useless parts grafted together. Not dead weight, even, worse than that. Never alive in the first place. Like a sculpture made out of used soup cans. Things that never had any reason to hate what they were. Because it was all they had ever known.”

While Yukiko’s impression of her still couldn’t be called a particularly good one, it was alright. She didn’t want to be thought of as childish, but she knew how she had acted, and how she sometimes still does act. Adeline finally looked up, smiling just slightly and nodding. She figured it may be better to leave, and not bother the surgeon further. And so she stood, starting to head towards the door. But before she could take more than a few steps, she turned back, curiosity bugging her.

“Um, Tsuji-san… can I ask, uh… why do you have prejudice towards inorganics? Um, just wondering…”

But Adeline didn’t leave. And that was the obvious question, isn’t it? What awful thing must have happened to her to leave her so cruel and bigoted and bitter? She’d be really disappointed if she heard, probably. Like the others would be. There was rarely any logic involved in prejudice to begin with. Or logic taken from the wrong places.

“...You like your augment, don’t you, Koyama-shi?” Her voice was a thin whisper, her eyes closed, not allowing herself the chance to look at Adeline or for her expression to change. “Or, maybe you would prefer yourself with your old hand, if you really thought about it. Even if nothing else about that situation had changed. But for all intents and purposes. It does not keep you awake at night. Leaving you with an urge to saw it off. You’ve never hurt yourself over it. You have never had anyone tell you. That everyone is a little uncomfortable at first. But with the miracle of modern medicine and technology you will get over it. And that you should appreciate the gift you’ve been given. The improvement in functionality.”

“…….”

Shou doesn’t quite know what he’s supposed to do. Trust his habit of honesty to slip him up as soon as he begins to consider someone a friend- his eyes don’t miss the tightening of Yukiko’s hand, after all. Looking fearful, he taps his feet once more, nervously. Confidence!

(Keep yourself in line!)

Confidence! He scratches at his shoulder, glancing aside and murmuring softly once more.

“I’m sorry, I ssshouldn’t have said that. It wa-was my mistake.”

There. It wasn’t the most forward of moves, but it was the best he could manage with sudden fear stiffening his limbs. He couldn’t dance like that, he thinks offhandedly.

(Who had Yukiko reminded him of? It was rushing back, now.)

As she doesn’t seem to be moving to attack him, at least, he manages to put a smile back on his face, retrieving his iPod from his things and shifting through the songs.

“There aren’t a lot of really traditional songs that are g-good for tap dance, but, um… this one has violins! Y-You need upbeat… fast-paced stuff, or it’s boring, yeah?”

He laughs sheepishly, flipping his chosen song on and turning it up loud enough that it echoes from his earphones, albeit tinnily.

“Sorry if I end up boring…”

And with the first lines of the song, he shuffles into the middle of the room, tapping his feet heel-to-toe with the beat. Then, he begins to dance. I don’t really know how to describe dancing so here we are. It seems a miracle that such a gangly, awkward guy could float around like he was walking on air, but as he easily lifts himself onto the tips of his toes, it becomes obvious that Shou’s talent was not a fluke. He really is very good- and seems to be having a good time, for once. The only times the smile wipes from his face is when he turns to the side, reaching one arm out, and finds only a blank wall there next to him- but as soon as he looks sad, the expression is wiped away by a smile once more.

He dances the whole thing I can’t describe it well. With the final violin strain, he twirls about, landing on his heels. Looking gross and sweaty, but blissfully happy, he turns to face Yukiko once more, bowing at the waist. Nice red tomato face.

He wasn’t boring. That was obvious enough from how she reacted to it. There wasn’t a single stray thought running through her head now. As negatively as she reacted to doing physical things herself, there was something dreamlike and fascinating about watching someone doing what they were good at. At least it was nice that no one was watching her during this time, because she hardly seemed to breathe. Seeing a video over the internet really couldn’t compare.

When the song ended it was like reawakening after a long hibernation. She blinked owlishly as though a bright light had been suddenly shone in her eyes, and then...strangely enough, cracked a smile along with him. What could she say. His energy was contagious.

“Well. Bravo,” she said in a low voice that only sounded slightly sarcastic, golf-clapping once or twice and nearly drowning out her own words. “I’m not specifically a judge. So I suppose my opinion doesn’t matter. But I saw no problems with it.”