i_speak_softly | Fifty-Fifth Theory [Voice/Action]

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Fifty-Fifth Theory [Voice/Action]

[Don has been returned from his mission with the Malnosso. In this case, that means that his guide-droid politely but firmly made it clear to him that sorry, but he had to leave.]

[His journal is returned to him, he's shown to a teleporter, and a moment later he's standing in the village's coffee shop. After getting something - well, a number of somethings - to eat, he settles into a booth and opens said journal.]

Filtered to housemates || Unhackable

Guys, I'm back. I'm at the coffee shop. [Almost as an afterthought:] I'm okay. Robert, can you bring my snowsuit?

End Filter

If anyone was waiting... I'm back.

[Some time later, he adds:] Has anyone heard of a Deadly Nadder? Or a Gronckle?

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I certainly have your efforts, as well as Ms. Daisy's and Helios' good advice, to thank in that regard. [Robert manages a smile.] ... It was very strange, though...

... I intend to have a proper MRI done whilst undergoing magic training, to... see the effects.

[This is something Don will have difficulty dissuading Robert from.]

[Don looks surprised at this.]

She gave permission?

... [Well, this wasn't something he had considered.]

... Is it... something I need to ask consent for...?

[He frowns, though it may have more to do with the stuck zipper than the conversation.]

Do you mean you want to have an MRI done while you're communicating with her?

[Does Don need help with that? Because Robert will totally help with that.]

Essentially, yes. I was... mostly interested in seeing the... neurological procedures that must go into the manipulation and... distribution of magic...

[... It just seems to him that there has to be some kind of concrete process.]

[Argh. This requires the efforts of someone better at dealing with small objects.]

Chīsana-yubi, can you get this? It's stuck on something...

[But on more important subjects --]

Then at the least, you're recording a conversation with her. I would think that requires consent...

Of course... [And Robert takes his aptly-named small fingers to the zipper on Don's coat, stooping a little to work it out of the edge it caught on.

At the same time:]

... You have a valid point. But how do I ask Nala for consent...? It is not as though she, er, is capable of providing any sort of... coherent recordable answer...

You can sense how she's feeling, right? [... Wait. It now occurs to Don to wonder how the non-verbal communication of this kind of meditation interacts with Robert's particular disabilities.] Can you?

[... How does he explain this...]

... Well... I am, er, n-not truly certain...

... You see, the last times I have... communicated with Nala, it has been... [- and his voice drops nervously -] almost hallucinogenic.

...

Like, er, s-synaesthesia.

[This clearly surprises him.]

Really?

Yes...

... A-Apparently, it is... unprecedented, amongst Lucetians. [He shifts awkwardly. It's obvious that he is wondering if this is because of his drug history.]

... It certainly made contacting her... interesting.

No it isn't. [He smiles, and nudges Robert's shoulders, trying to get him to straighten up.] Your survey data is incomplete.

... Wh-what do you mean?

[Robert does stand, at the nudging, but he's more confused about what Don is saying.

Does he know someone else who behaves this way?]

[Don pulls up his loosened zipper.]

You didn't survey all the people who used to be in Luceti. [A little teasing smile, pausing just a moment before continuing.] Mike had a kind of synaesthesia too, with his chi-sensing. The chi never seemed to know how to get into his brain, so it just took any route it could find.

Are you... suggesting that perhaps this could be... something similar? That... that the magic - or, or whatever s-signals Nala gave off - could not be translated properly by my brain...?

[... It's a surprisingly good hypothesis.]

... Perhaps, if... if Nala would allow me, I... could test it.

[Don nods, gathering up his knapsack and turning to go.]

Think of it as being chi-deaf. The Filial spirits can still communicate with you; they just have to use sign language.

[He remembers that girl with the unpronounceable name, who tried to sign at him and then had to resort to writing.]

Do you see what I mean?

[And Robert, of course, is getting ready to go himself - shuffling his winter coat back into place over his lab coat. (Yes, it looks ridiculous.)]

... I... I believe so. It... does seem to make sense, as a hypothesis...

[He nods a little, decidedly, to himself.]

It is worth investigating, at the least.

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Fifty-Fifth Theory [Voice/Action]

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