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KAMPFF WEEK ELEVEN
| the pygmalion. . . ONLINE  LOGGING YOU IN . . . KAMPFF week eleven  Once you manage to get into your room, you'll notice that AL-2955 is waiting for you. She appears in the corner from her statue. She implores you to head towards the chapel, where three others await you. kampff rulebook taken info cards |
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But you know what it is I have to offer, do you not? Your recklessness has, shall we say, given me an idea.
Grell Sutcliffe. One half of Jack the Ripper. Shall I offer you a piece of me? To keep with you for as long as you have a connection to the ship? To my home, the Pygmalion.
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[ But Jack breaks off, since when Alice makes that offer to Grell, he freezes. He looks upset, but that turns to a vicious cold very, very quickly. It would almost seem like he's angry that Grell is being offered this over him, but— ]
Ohhhh, nonono, cupcake, you do not get to just offer that to dollface here. You and I made that friggin' deal, and, what, now you'll give it to any jackoff?
[ No, Jack isn't jealous at all. In fact, he had approached Alice with this very offer weeks ago. ]
How about working with me for once instead of just screwing off? Because, what, you think you're gonna be doing better with more people in your systems?
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What would the price for accepting that offer be?
[only to know, to make a choice with a fully informed mind. but Jack can probably read in her expression the direction she's leaning anyway. he and Alice could have made a deal, yes, but there had to be some reason Alice was changing her mind.]
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That was then, this is now. What is it that The Captain used to say... Ah. Yes. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I did not promise you anything when you struck that deal. Do you not recall our chat? About Faust, that is, when I reminded you that your agreement to this deal mirrored that man's actions.
[ And the chapel dims. The lights burn red now, and this time, Alice's laughter does ring out, deep and present. Jack's robotic hand raises, and wraps around his neck, not yet squeezing. The movement is familiar, he will find: Alice's grip is around his neck. ]
You remember that we struck that deal, and I told you of the tale of Faust. I trust I needn't remind Grell of it, but you, it seems, are like a lazy student in the back of my class. Brilliant, but forgetful. Let me repeat myself. Faust once was a scholar who was widely successful, perhaps one of the most regarded men in history, yet he was dissatisfied. He could not rouse himself to care about the world around him. So what does Faust do? He makes a deal with the devil, of course. In Goethe's retelling of the story, he does it for sheer sublimity — to experience record highs and record lows in his lifetime, for knowledge more vast than any one human on the planet — in exchange for his soul, to be devoured in languish by the devil.
Now. Your memory has been jogged, hasn't it? But I will repeat myself for our Master Chief: I did not promise you anything. You asked for this. You asked for a piece of me to be within you at all times, Jack. I did not promise you a single thing. Perhaps you promised it to yourself. To that end, I am unable to deliver. Most AIs aim to please, but I... I am here to win. I will eternally will evil. I will eternally work good. That is my purpose upon this ship.
You ask of me what this synchronization will entail, Grell. Perhaps you should ask Jack, he seems awfully chatty for a man with my hand around his throat. You will be my eyes, my ears, my hands, you will hold within you myself, and you will be Kampff. It is your role. To that end, is this not fitting? For the only two upon the ship I can trust, I give unto you a shard of myself. You are not my Pawns, no. My King and Queen.
[ And Alice's grip -- here is where it threatens to tighten, again. ]
Have you not always yearned to be a King, Jack? I have given you this opportunity.
[ Her laughter rings out. ]
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You- Hahaha, you really gotta get- gotta get more original, babe! I've been thinkin' of my girlfriend alllll week, so this? This doesn't scare me one goddamn bit!
[ who isn't into a little kinky strangulation tbh but also, jack is insane
As if this wasn't clear before, his grin splits even further as Alice ends with that tidbit, almost seeming to not fit his face and twisting up his scar. His own grip threatens to tighten, but his voice comes out much lower and calmer this time. ]
Oh- Oh, I will be king, River. You and me- You and me, we're alike, right? But— [ He's definitely chatty, but here, he pauses to take more of a shaky breath, even if it's with a laugh. ] But I can kill you. I will kill you. Think of it as a promise, from AI to AI.
1/2
[the voice that says that is deadly calm, and the distance that existed between Jack and Grell has shrunk to a matter of inches. Grell turns her gaze on Jack, raises up her hand to caress his face - if it wasn't for the look in her eyes, it could have been sweet. Handsome Jack may be insane, but Grell Sutcliffe is a monster, always has been, and there's nothing human to see in bright green. cold, faintly amused, and she smiles with teeth more suitable for tearing flesh than anything else.]
Even if you can, you won't. Jack...
[Grell breathes his name like a lover would, and though her touch is gentle, he's seen the scythe. he knows she has the strength to destroy, if she wants - he could shoot her right now and she'd laugh about it.]
I like you. Please don't make me hate you. If that happened, I don't know what I'd do.
[everything. she'd do whatever she wanted to bring him low.]
Maybe spill all your memories to everyone else? Let them decide in consensus where your soul goes? Every moment you've ever drawn breath laid out for them to see, and Handsome Jack's eternal fate at the mercy of those lesser than him. Oh, but I've always wanted to see the real you. Ached for it. It's such bad form to leave a woman wanting...but I'd endure, so as long as I could still be your friend.
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Lady Alice, I accept.
[oh, the angels sang, Heaven cried out for Gretchen's fate, but what they sang was dependent on who you believed - she is condemned/she is saved.]
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[ For a moment, her grip tightens, and there's whispers in Jack's head, a gentle recital of kings long gone, and the lights turn a gentle blue. The color is reminiscent of water, as though the chapel itself is submerged, and Alice's grip on Jack's throat lessens, ebbing away like a receding wave.
In return, Grell will find that her head aches, pulsates, throbs like something is threatening to burst forth from her skull. Her vision will go first, as Alice's form becomes wisps of herself. Strings of data. Incomprehensible binary code that she can't read, and then her body will ache in the same way as her skull. ] Let us begin, Grell.
[ (Grell is bleeding from her head) Grell is standing still despite the horrific pain that pulsates within her, that threatens to rip through her, she will feel coolness streaking from her crown, and then she is still as a corpse. She cannot move, she is paralyzed, wrapped tight in her own body.
But then it ends, and Grell is not inside Grell anymore. No, Grell is outside her body, but she is alive, seeing, feeling, breathing still. She will comprehend things, a scalpel that cuts methodically through flesh to remove organs. A doctor's clinical touch, perhaps, or a memory. There is a flash of a tornado, tearing through homes and leaving families for naught. Hurricanes and tsunamis that crash upon the world, shifting its axis, shrieks of terror and pleas for help that will fall on deaf ears. Grell is not seeing. She is feeling.
A wolf tears through the forest. Snow kicks up from it's paws. Lava bursts forth from a volcano, trailing along the ground to burn down a city that screams for its life. Death, death, death, but then -- the distinct sensation of holding a newborn in her arms. Her body is surrounded by the sea.
By lakes and by rivers.
There is a door. It is not locked, but it is not open. The handle begs to be turned. ]
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(faintly, she remembers a line. in me there are two souls, and their division tears my life in two.)
until-until. until there is no more chapel and no more Pygmalion, until she is experiencing, not herself and somehow herself as the world is destroyed and what she can remember she will because everything is important. feeling it, not observing through sight. and everything is water in its myriad routes, weaving together in so many ways.
there is a door, and Grell is not afraid. she takes the handle and turns it so it might be opened.]
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A wave of water crashes upon Grell. She is on the beach, and perhaps it is the beach of Alice's-- of River's mind. But if she tries to tell, Grell won't be able to. She cannot discern where it is that River begins and Grell ends. Does it matter? There's a tsunami approaching, a storm is raging, the sand is sprinkling through the air. There is no door, not anymore.
There is only a wave slamming into Grell's body. It is a strong, powerful force. A wave of water so unkind and wild, untamed and ferocious, it's only goal is to devour her. Grell is awash in Alice's conscienceless.
She hits the floor of the chapel.
Within Grell's body, Alice raises a hand, and adjusts the glasses upon her face, pushing them back up the bridge of Grell's nose. A far more kind gesture than the one she used to prove her existence inside Jack. Her voice comes from inside Grell's head this time, but Jack, too, will hear it. ]
It is done.
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But it quickly cools as Grell steps forward to touch his face, and though he doesn't try to pry away that hand, he takes a half-step back, as he's startled by her sudden proximity. But more than anything Alice could do, Grell's words calm that madness down, even if it's replaced by something colder in its stead. The way she says his name is- Well, he's not going to think about that too much, but that threat that follows isn't one he misses.
He calms as he watches her with a sharp gaze, but he doesn't say anything. He might have, if not for the rest of what follows, because that's of course a little more distracting. Even though he's calmed, his smile still cracks with a laugh once he starts to hear the poem. He doesn't recognize it, but as soon as it starts talking kings... He understands the point. ]
—Heh. Coulda made your point with a better poem, if you're going to be a pretentious piece of shit as always. "Nothing beside remains," right?
[ Because of course Jack knows Ozymandias. He even wrote his own (way funnier) version.
He laughs again, breathy, but otherwise he just waits, aching to try and get his hand to listen to him again. If Alice were a real presence before him, he's sure he would kill her. Even with Grell's threat, he wouldn't hesitate to wrap her hands around her throat and squeeze until he felt her spine snap.
But as Grell stirs again, and Jack hears that confirmation, his expression tightens once more. He still doesn't like this, not one bit, because he is desperately, fiercely protective of what he is. Mixing with Alice was one thing, since it was familiar to him, but even the idea of potentially sharing with Grell isn't something he's quite as keen about. Whether that's accurate or not doesn't quite matter to him, though. ]
So-- Al, after all that, gotta ask. What's the friggin' point? What do you want from us that you offer it to dollface? 'Cause as I recall, this was my idea first.
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Incredible.
[gently she pats her head (oh, so the blood was imagined) before she stands up, glancing at the hand that had moved by Alice's will. another on the list of things to become accustomed to.]
If you're worried I'm going to displace you, Jack, it's hardly likely. You know about things I don't have the faintest clue even exist.
[and she had the knowledge of a grim reaper and the tens of thousands of lives she's observed, but Jack doesn't need to hear about that just yet.]
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[ Her image is still, calm. Her voice smooth and inviting, like the weather in summer. Alice may not be able to smile, but the implication is there in her tone, her calmness. ]
That is my answer to you, Handsome Jack. I will make you King, but you will only do so by my rules. It is time that, as one may say, we stop fucking around. Would you not agree with me? Or perhaps your ragtag group would, instead.
I bid you both adieu.
[ And with that, the watery image of Alice dissipates, zipping back into the statue's bastion. ]