(The memory that comes back is just as strong as the first, running through Jean's mind without so much as a by-your-leave, but the tone is...
...Different.
The heat is intense, as it always is, in the Floor of Language. Jean is reading their way through books so as to better catalogue them, a service they very much need to provide because the Patron Librarian is, by her own admission, nearly illiterate. The irony has at no point been lost on her. The sound of Gebura's unhurried footsteps and the scent of her ever-present cigarette precede the woman herself, one hand in her pocket, the other tapping ash out onto the floor.
Jean springs to their feet. "Ma'am, guests?"
"Not yet," Gebura answers; her voice is rough from cigarettes and hard living and a life of grief, smokier than her tobacco. "Sit back down, Assistant Librarian. I'm just here to talk."
Oh boy! Talking! Relief at the lack of battle is eclipsed by excitement about Talking To Gebura, Gebura rarely has time to talk except just before or just after a fight. Everyone is so busy, all the time, but now she's here! And she's going to talk to Jean! Sitting, right...
The Patron Librarian pulls up a chair and spins it around so she can sit with her arms over its back and rest her chin on them. She regards Jean for a long moment, and then says: "You are hereby ordered to provide your honest thoughts and opinions, with no regard for the mission. Confirm."
Jean blinks several times. "Uh - hahahahaha, uh. Confirmed, Madam Gebura. What's...what's this about?"
"There's been a requested change in tactics." Gebura's eyes trace the bookshelves, whose pages thrum with Light, and then track their way back to Jean. "Angela believes that victory alone is not enough; she's pointed out that we extract more Books from those who die in the height of their passion. She's asked us to leave them alive for longer, and to cut them down at the peak of their terror and pain."
Silence, broken only by Gebura flicking her cigarette into the ash tray, and then immediately lighting a new one.
"...Madam...is the Director asking us to fight worse?"
"Yes."
Jean frowns. They do not like that idea at all. But..."Surely she has a good reason?"
Gebura sighs a cloud of smoke from her mouth. "What is a 'good reason', Assistant Librarian Jean? She is impatient to see her desires met...but she's not the only one who might benefit. To fulfill her agenda sooner would bring your freedom sooner as well. And that of the Abnormalities, I know you had a fondness for some of them once."
(A flash of deeper memory; Little Red's voice in Jean's head, telling them to killkillkill, make them hurt make them suffer they hurt you they hurt your friends kill them cut and shoot and burn and kill kill kill kill kill -)
"Once," Jean agrees, looking away. "...It's going to hurt, if we fight worse. Our enemies are becoming competent."
"I know. I'm going to talk to the others about this too, but I came to you first, Jean. Because you're the one who will suffer the most, and with the least relief. If you say no, we continue as we are. I will refuse the Director."
That's fucking shocking. Jean stares at Gebura for long minutes, and she waits with infinite patience. To refuse the Director? To her face? Over Jean?
"I'm supposed to take care of you," Gebura murmurs, "and I haven't forgotten how poorly you've been served by me. When it was my duty to look to your welfare, you and Disciplinary looked to mine."
(Deeper, still deeper; the same corporate halls as before, red lights blaring. A mighty warriour cleaves through space itself, moving faster than sight, focused only on the kill. Jean and a mercenary hold the front, lives on the line, terror pounding through Jean's heart while the gunline sets up on either side of the hallway...)
"Do you want this, Madam Gebura?" Jean asks in a soft voice.
"..." Gebura takes a long drag from her cigarette. "I want to be able to do right by you. I'm not in a hurry, but this City is; our enemies are only coming faster, and harder. If this gives us the power to set you free...to do right by you? I'm in favor. But my opinion's not the one I care about here. You already did right by me, Jean."
"...I can do it. We'll kill them slow. Hahaha, ha! The Director should be pleased...maybe she'll make more coffee."
"Heh. Yeah. Maybe.")
"Comrade Bronwyn, if I can ever be of service, please vow that you won't hesitate to ask."
no subject
(The memory that comes back is just as strong as the first, running through Jean's mind without so much as a by-your-leave, but the tone is...
...Different.
The heat is intense, as it always is, in the Floor of Language. Jean is reading their way through books so as to better catalogue them, a service they very much need to provide because the Patron Librarian is, by her own admission, nearly illiterate. The irony has at no point been lost on her. The sound of Gebura's unhurried footsteps and the scent of her ever-present cigarette precede the woman herself, one hand in her pocket, the other tapping ash out onto the floor.
Jean springs to their feet. "Ma'am, guests?"
"Not yet," Gebura answers; her voice is rough from cigarettes and hard living and a life of grief, smokier than her tobacco. "Sit back down, Assistant Librarian. I'm just here to talk."
Oh boy! Talking! Relief at the lack of battle is eclipsed by excitement about Talking To Gebura, Gebura rarely has time to talk except just before or just after a fight. Everyone is so busy, all the time, but now she's here! And she's going to talk to Jean! Sitting, right...
The Patron Librarian pulls up a chair and spins it around so she can sit with her arms over its back and rest her chin on them. She regards Jean for a long moment, and then says: "You are hereby ordered to provide your honest thoughts and opinions, with no regard for the mission. Confirm."
Jean blinks several times. "Uh - hahahahaha, uh. Confirmed, Madam Gebura. What's...what's this about?"
"There's been a requested change in tactics." Gebura's eyes trace the bookshelves, whose pages thrum with Light, and then track their way back to Jean. "Angela believes that victory alone is not enough; she's pointed out that we extract more Books from those who die in the height of their passion. She's asked us to leave them alive for longer, and to cut them down at the peak of their terror and pain."
Silence, broken only by Gebura flicking her cigarette into the ash tray, and then immediately lighting a new one.
"...Madam...is the Director asking us to fight worse?"
"Yes."
Jean frowns. They do not like that idea at all. But..."Surely she has a good reason?"
Gebura sighs a cloud of smoke from her mouth. "What is a 'good reason', Assistant Librarian Jean? She is impatient to see her desires met...but she's not the only one who might benefit. To fulfill her agenda sooner would bring your freedom sooner as well. And that of the Abnormalities, I know you had a fondness for some of them once."
(A flash of deeper memory; Little Red's voice in Jean's head, telling them to killkillkill, make them hurt make them suffer they hurt you they hurt your friends kill them cut and shoot and burn and kill kill kill kill kill -)
"Once," Jean agrees, looking away. "...It's going to hurt, if we fight worse. Our enemies are becoming competent."
"I know. I'm going to talk to the others about this too, but I came to you first, Jean. Because you're the one who will suffer the most, and with the least relief. If you say no, we continue as we are. I will refuse the Director."
That's fucking shocking. Jean stares at Gebura for long minutes, and she waits with infinite patience. To refuse the Director? To her face? Over Jean?
"I'm supposed to take care of you," Gebura murmurs, "and I haven't forgotten how poorly you've been served by me. When it was my duty to look to your welfare, you and Disciplinary looked to mine."
(Deeper, still deeper; the same corporate halls as before, red lights blaring. A mighty warriour cleaves through space itself, moving faster than sight, focused only on the kill. Jean and a mercenary hold the front, lives on the line, terror pounding through Jean's heart while the gunline sets up on either side of the hallway...)
"Do you want this, Madam Gebura?" Jean asks in a soft voice.
"..." Gebura takes a long drag from her cigarette. "I want to be able to do right by you. I'm not in a hurry, but this City is; our enemies are only coming faster, and harder. If this gives us the power to set you free...to do right by you? I'm in favor. But my opinion's not the one I care about here. You already did right by me, Jean."
"...I can do it. We'll kill them slow. Hahaha, ha! The Director should be pleased...maybe she'll make more coffee."
"Heh. Yeah. Maybe.")
"Comrade Bronwyn, if I can ever be of service, please vow that you won't hesitate to ask."