2019-08-23: The Heart of the Matter
- Log: The Heart of the Matter
- Cast: Citan Uzuki, Gwen Whitlock
- Where: Thunder Plains
- Date: 8/23/2019
- Summary: Citan invites Gwen over for tea, with the secret intent of privately discussing the subject of her ARM, as well as the possible risks of trying to use its new 'ability'.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
Time has passed since he completed his most recent maintenence on Gwen's ARM.
Time has also passed since his last talk with Fei and Elly -- in fact since he had last been at this same wayfarer's inn crossing the Thunder Plains. Travel has taken further afield and back again, as elsewhere across the continent war continues to rage.
This is a connection point with Bevelle to the north -- cut off by recent weather, he understands -- and so it has become, in spite of the difficulty of the local terrain, a place that has been useful when it comes to understanding the local mood and rhythm.
It's also a place where he has occasion to cross paths with a familiar face or two, and so it is now.
He had invited Gwen to come and sit with him, close to a window with an excellent view of the plains, awash in yet another endless storm. A couple cups of tea, steaming, sit before the both of them.
"I suppose it must be an accident of geography that this road is so heavily traveled," he comments, shaking his head as he glances, once, out the window. "If there were another way between north and south, well, I would think they would have left the plains well enough alone. Some things cannot be helped," he remarks in the end, shugging his shoulders. "I will need to make sure to bring a change of clothing for when I return south." He smiles at this, if a little wearily.
"I assume that your ARM has been functioning properly?" he asks, as if to shift the subject away from the mundanity of the eternal storm.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Oh man, I've missed this." When asked for tea by Citan, Gwen seemed more than willing to have a nice, calm tea session with the doctor. The excellent view of the plains is just icing on the cake, with Gwen giving the view a generous amount of attention when she's not immersed in the country doctor's conversations.
"I wonder if it's always been this stormy here, or if it was actually a lot more pleasant a long time ago. Or maybe, there's some level of romanticism with all of it. Man versus nature, n' all that." Settling down to the table, Gwen lifts her cup, pausing to gently breathe in the aroma.
"As well as could be expected, really," she says, pausing to sip from her cup. It's good enough for her to sip with, at the very least, evidenced by her hold on the cup. "What about you? Handlin' things okay? Seemed like Fei was holdin' up pretty well, too, last I saw 'im. Though, I wonder what our next move really is, when all's said n' done. Not just you guys' group, but all of us here."
For all the courier's level of mundane grit, Gwen always seemed to have surprisingly good manners when it came to tea.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
The inn here is by no means well-equipped but it does have the essentials (low-key meals, tea and other drinks, some sweeter things) though the doctor hasn't ordered anything but the tea, for the both of them. Then again, he doesn't seem the type for sweets, and it's not exactly anywhere near a mealtime...
"That, I cannot say. If we accept the story about the plains, then it is quite possibly it had always been this way, and that it is fortunate the towers were built to divert the lightning." He pauses, as if thinking this over. "Of course, it does seem almost a little too convenient at the same time... the only way connecting north and south has managed to have such a massive project constructed that permits travel. Then again, perhaps there would be no need to travel if travel were impossible," he continues, shaking his head as if at all the twisting potential paths this line of thought can take.
"...Come of to think of it, I had been speaking to Fei and Elly on this very same subject," he muses. "They had said they had encountered, ah, advanced technology in an ancient ruin around here. Perhaps Spira had once been home to a more technologically-focused civilization once, and perhaps the towers are another remnant of it..." He shakes his head. "In the end, all I can do is speculate."
One would think he would have learned his lesson from last time and drink his tea.
Citan doesn't, instead watching Gwen as she comments on her ARM, says that all is normal. His forehead, faintly, creases.
"I have been well, as have Fei and the others. ...I admit I am at as much of a loss as you are," he says, with a self-effacing smile. "Perhaps the answer might lie in one of these ruins. It was an Elw ruin that brought everyone home the last time, according to Fei. I wonder if there might be something similar in this land."
He lapses into silence for a moment, as if considering something; his gaze is for a moment more distant, in her direction but not really on her.
Then his focus returns to Gwen in full. Apparently reaching some sort of decision point, he leans forward in his seat, and says to her, his voice low:
"Are you aware that the safety lock in your ARM has been destroyed?"
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Necessity *is* the mother of invention." Gwen laughs. "So y'noticed it too? I wonder if the Al Bhed weren't the only ones who had tech around here; likely, they were just the people who decided to become nomadic instead of part with their technology. The others settled n' just cut themselves off from things that seemed to invite Sin, kinda like a boozehound swearin' off all drink after a really close call. T'make a religion of it'd likely make it a heckuva lot easier to keep the information from getting lost, too. And the rest, possibly, a means to bring hope. It's not an entirely bad idea, but it seems t'have opened the Spirans to danger, now that powers from overseas came over. That's my take, anyway."
She drinks her tea, enjoying the view outside their window, each bright flash of distant light throwing a glow against her skin.
"Yeah. It was right when Sin attacked the town of Azado. Sort of a 'do or die' situation. I sometimes wonder what alla us goin' back n' forth is doin' to this world."
As Citan is quiet, Gwen is too, having grown comfortable enough with the doctor to not entirely find his moments of thought nerve-wracking.
.... then again, maybe she should.
"Oh?" Gwen turns her head to look back at the doctor, and smiles. "Yeah. It's why I went to you to help me examine my ARM. Usually I'm able to turn it off myself and do maintenance," she says, turning her right hand over. "When we get back to Ignas, I'm gonna ask Auntie to repair it."
But the issue isn't just that, of course. The safety lock is to keep an ARM from going off erroneously, and Gwen's ARM was no exception. Citan would have known it was there from previous examinations.
The other thing he may have realized was that it was not original to the ARM, being of a different style altogether. It would not be unusual, of course; Gwen, being an ordinary courier, likely needed something added on, and what parts seemed 'original' to the unorthodox ARM seemed to lack such safety measures.
"There's not much that can be done, here."
There was more. Much more. Things that had moved, things that just weren't the same. The safety lock could be the most alarming part of it all, along with the rumors, if Citan heard them.
"Why d'ya ask?"
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"It may be," Citan agrees, coupling the statement with a nod. "It appears that the faith makes... exceptions for Machina if it is useful enough. You likely saw yourself the stadium in Luca. Then there are the towers here, and some of the Warrior Monks also make use of Machina." He shakes his head. "It appears that necessity overcomes even taboo. Though, the presence of such ancient machines makes it clear: before the arrival of Sin, Spira was a far more technological society. I would need to investigate further, personally, but if what Fei and Elly told me was correct, then it would surpass even modern Filgaia."
Excepting a few places, perhaps, but those are... special cases.
"Hm, I see." He nods, as if coming to a decision point. "Then, perhaps I have been walking and talking long enough! It may be past time I took a look into Spira's ruins myself."
When he informs her of this damage to her ARM, she smiles back at him and explains.
His reaction... may not help matters much.
"Ah," he says, his expression particularly deadpan. "I see... so you were aware." He leans back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest and bowing his head as if in thought. "'Turn it off yourself'..."
Again, he wrinkles his forehead pensively. "Yes, you had mentioned previously that your Aunt normally conducted repairs." That she had, in fact, installed the ARM in the first place. He lifts his head, regarding her again. "...When you did your own repairs in the past, which parts were you able to repair?" He pauses a moment, almost as if he were a man treading on unsteady ground. "There are parts of your ARM that are native to it... and parts that are not. Newer, I suspect, and installed by the one who grafted it to your body."
Is she... aware of that?
And on top of that, there were rumors. A person with red hair who had unleashed destruction in Luca...
Normally, he would have thought about someone else. But, he knew where that person had been during the attack on Luca.
He gazes at Gwen, taking into account her strawberry blonde hair, and waits for her response.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Yeah. I'm waitin' for the other shoe t'drop, but for now, people mostly accept those of us with more obvious tech, as long as we aren't too scary. Which is a balance I ain't a stranger to." It took a while for Gwen to really even open to Citan about her ARM, with several deliveries to the small village before she likely had to turn to Citan out of necessity. Even in Ignas, the land of ARM users, there was a necessary balanace that had to be kept between looking harmless and not being preyed on because of it.
There's also the fact that Gwen's mysterious 'Auntie' was a fine scholar, but she was certainly not a doctor.
"I wonder what this place was like, before Sin came. Think of all the neat stuff they could've had! They could have been way more advanced than anything on Ignas!" A pause. "Aside from, uh, some places, of course." Credit where credit is due. "Lemme know if y'need a hand, Doc. I figure you probably already have a buncha people, but I'd never turn down a chance t'help you for all the times you've helped me."
'Turn it off yourself.' "Oh! I mean 'turn off my ARM', sorry." She mimes the action, holding out her ARM and pressing three fingers of her left hand into the inner side of her ARM, alternating the hold in a practiced motion. "Mostly the parts needed for maintenance that I could reach. Sometimes things'd get struck, or somethin' gets jammed. Stuff like that." She sips her tea some more, docile as she nods. "Oh, I figured some of these parts were ones Auntie added. It wasn't... really meant to do what she was forcing it t'do, in the first place. A weapon, bein' used to keep someone alive. She was the one who installed it. I can't remember if I told ya that or not."
She was aware. At least, she was aware of this much. But there is a slight hesitation, a subtle clenching of her shoulder blades, as if Citan was striking at something close. Almost a reflex, an instinct to keep things hidden.
That instinct had always been there.
"I had turned it off during a battle against the Trial Knight and Ragnell. Fei n' Elly were there, though they were understandably wrapped up, as I was. I had t'turn it off, because..." There's a brief space of quiet, punctuated by the noise of distant thunder. "I 'spose it wouldn't do t'lie. I had to, in order to keep my ARM from bein' used while I was under the influence of that Orb or whatever the Trial Knight was tryin' t'use. But it's been purified, so." She tilts her head with a nervous laugh, one hand rubbing through her curls. "Whiiicch is actually why the safety broke? The Guardians basically made everyone temporarily able to purify things, n' my ARM got turned on by that. Turns out that had consequences? But it's just a matter of repairin' it. Sorry if I worried ya there for a sec, Doc."
For a moment, Gwen hesitates.
"What, was that it? Sorry, just, things've been movin' so fast, y'know?"
She frowns.
"... A lot of things have happened, since I had you give me a check-up, before. A full one, I mean." She purses her lips. ".... I dunno if I'd as willin' now. I'll... just say that. You already got a lot on your plate as it is."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"I, as well. I have been able to learn some of the past by speaking to the residents, but I fear much has been lost." He shakes his head. "I believe that if there is anything to learn, it will be found in a ruin."
Or, perhaps, in another place further, but he can only speculate on that front.
"Perhaps I might make a trip sometime soon? I feel a place that has more Machina or other unusual characteristics may bear fruit." He fidgets with his glasses, and has the decency to look a little sheepish when he adds, "...And I must admit, I am interested in getting a close-up look at this land's machinery. I have not had much to tinker with in some time, other than your ARM -- at this rate I may even grow rusty!"
And, speaking of that ARM...
He nods, just once, as she mimes what she would usually do. "Yes. It would be difficult to do complicated work with only one arm. ...Much like attempting abdominal surgery on oneself," he adds, with a shake of the head.
His tea continues to sit on the table, untouched. Forgotten.
A weapon. Pressganged into another role, it seems. "Yes," he says, a touch absently, as if something else were on his mind. "It was certainly meant to be used as a weapon."
It would explain some of the rest of what he saw in her ARM.
She hunches, as if worried. Anxious. Hesistant. He unfolds his arms, shifting back in his seat, as if to somehow present her with more space.
"Yes," he says, touching his hand to his glasses. "They did tell me some about that fight. So you powered it down to prevent it from being used against you? Then in the aftermath, something happened to destroy the safety, and afterwards you were transported here."
He's getting the outline sketch of what's happened here, now. He remains pokerfaced, a particularly attentive neutral.
So the ARM has been functioning without its safety.
Without the part that prevents it from being used at its full strength.
Citan's gaze rests on her, evenly, for a measure and change more, as if he's working something out mentally.
Could it be?
Is it possible that...?
"Without the safety in place," he starts to say, when she interjects with a comment about a check-up. Something in his gaze shifts. "...How has your heart been?" he asks, on that front, all his attention on her now. "I admit that I am not as occupied as I might normally be. If there is something about your health that is worrying you..." he says, trailing off, as if to give her room to speak.
Without the safety in place...
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
The sheepish look seems to spur the courier back into a light-hearted mood. "You should! When're y'goin' to get another chance?" She leans forward on the table, a grin squeezing the freckled cheeks of her face. "You might find somethin' that'll help people, n' if not that, it'd be somethin' really neato either way, y'know?"
Just how willing would Gwen be as the conversation turns back towards her?
The first comment earns Citan a full-hearted laugh. "Well, yeah. N' without the safety, it pretty much feels weird, too. Like, ticklin' the inside of your arm, but there's nothin' that should be able to be tickled there. It ain't like my hand's gonna go off, really; it's just for maintenance stuff. And emergencies."
Emergencies, like-
"No," Gwen says, softly. "That I wouldn't use it against anyone else." She guiltily looks to the side, a stray finger scratching at one freckled cheek. "It was a one-time situation, really."
"...."
How has her heart been.
"It's-"
Her first instinct is to cover it up, much as she has done physically. However, she has told Fei. She's known Citan for a longer period of time, and he would even have the context to understand the full measure of what happened.
"A man tried to kill me, and, I guess, he succeeded," she begins. Her words are measured, betraying a certain rhythm that is reserved only for the most serious, and perhaps most intimate, of subjects. "He stabbed me clean through, with his sword." Two gloved fingers press gently over the very spot as she speaks, blue-grey eyes avoiding the doctor's own. "As luck would have it, when I fell, my ARM was close enough to a medium tablet. As far as I could tell, my ARM simply used it to make a heart for me."
Gwen's tea, like Citan's, sits on the table, ignored for now. "If it weren't for a dear friend who found me, and another who tended to me, I likely would have died anyway. I've told Fei and some others about this already, but, understandably, I want to keep this a secret."
Without the safety in place.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
His next question for her is a rather direct one:
"That what was a one-time situation?"
He may have his suspicions, but he knows -- at his age -- better than to rely on suspicions alone. Observation, testing, confirmation...
They are some of the things that have gotten Citan Uzuki to the point in his life that he's at now.
"...Without the safety," he continues at last, filling in the gap as she falls silent on the matter of the heart (her heart), "there is nothing to prevent your ARM from being used to its full capacity. I mentioned the wear in your ARM when I was assessing it the last time. ...Here, in Spira, there is little I can do to replace or repair even some of the most basic parts in your ARM." His gaze, fleetingly, becomes a little harder, before settling back into that neutral, nonjudgemental mask he continues to wear.
"Please keep that in mind, Gwen."
This may be of particular importance considering what she divulges yet.
She had been stabbed. Killed, clinically, considering the injury that resulted. And yet.
The 'mask' falls away. Doctor Uzuki looks genuinely stunned. "The ARM... has become your heart?" he asks, leaning forward. One hand, resting on the table, inches forward a touch before falling flat; he has enough tact to not ask to see for himself, but it's clear that old habits must die hard.
A part of him would like to.
"That cannot be... and yet, Metal Demon-era ARMs are known for their," he pauses, as if fishing for the right word, "odd behavior. And it siphoned the power from a Medium? If I only knew more about Baskar practices... to think that the ARM would be able to interface with a Baskar artifact..."
He's thinking out loud at this point, it seems.
His attention jumps over to her at her request; he looks almost abashed for a moment, lifting a hand to readjust his glasses. "...A secret. Yes, of course. It would not do for others to learn of this, even on Filgaia. There is enough of a stigma against such ARMs as it stands." His hand drops away. "...You have my word. I will speak to no one of this."
He remains silent for a moment or three more, his expression again pensive, distant.
"...In exchange... you must not use the full power of that ARM again. Not until we return to Filgaia. To do otherwise could risk your life. Do you understand?"
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"... Considerin' the Abnormal or whatever it was Orb was purified, let's just say 'a lot of us are just hope that's the end of that'." Gwen shrugs, a small smile on her face.
One could even say, in the dimmer indoor light, it's slightly sad.
She still remembers Ragnell.
As Citan speaks, being far more blunt than he's possibly ever been before (within reason), Gwen nods, slowly.
"So you understand what's at stake, then." The smile is still on Gwen's lips, shifting to one side in a slight half-smile. "And yes. By my own will. But not without a cost. I only fully realized recently. N' since then..."
He may not ask, but Gwen sees the question in his eyes.
Citan is a scholar at heart, despite his professional bedside manner.
"I'd show you, but I can't really do that without lookin' like I'm tryin' to, uh, flirt with you, Doc. I ain't wearin' my usual attire for a reason." Gwen presses a few fingers to the spot where her heart would rest. "The heart is completely replaced, n' the place where the man's blade cut me through is... filled. It glows. Both on my chest and on my back. So I need to keep it covered."
The embarrassed look on Citan's face gives Gwen a chance to relax further. "... I'm ahead of you on that one. I'm just afraid that, if it comes to it, it may not be a choice. The first time, it wasn't. I have a few ideas on what to do, but it'll take time to train. Until then."
She considers.
"... So, if it comes to it, Doc, if somehow all this fightin' leads to the worst case scenario? I give you permission to somehow knock me out of it. Because I won't be able to stop." She pauses. "Of course, I mean, I'm just a normal human, so, like, the last time I just got exhausted, so really, it ain't like y'gotta beat me in a fight. Or have someone else do it. I'll tire out."
Says the person who willed her ARM to replace her heart.
Says the person who refused to die.
Says the person who has the nerve to call herself a 'super courier'.
"Man, I was all nervous for a sec 'bout how you'd see me! But it looks like everything'll all work out, no matter what happens!"
In this light, it's hard to tell just how genuine that smile on Gwen's face really is.