08.18.3013: You Got Your Crazysauce All Over My Dumplings
Summary: Ariana encounters an incredibly distraught and crazed Brigham.
Date: 18 August 2013
Related: My Shadow's Shedding Skin
Ariana Brigham 

Detention Wing — Khar-Mordune, The Spine
The mess is in the log.
18 August 3013

It's been two days and Brigham looks as if he walked both of them without sleep or rest or even a fracture in his new found resolve. His hair is no longer merely matted with the blood of those from before, but now is beginning to take on the shine of being oily. He still wears the bloody shirt from his night of triage, but now the stains are brown and what was on his hands is little more then fine brown flakes of dust that float away from time to time when he touches something or grips something tightly causing the patches to crack. He's not left the detention wing since he arrived, and even now he is setting up new equipment, "Put it there." he says, the circles under his eyes giving him an almost sinister look that the firm set of his jaw only seems to exaggerate. The men move a large table into place where Brigham points and then beat a hasty retreat. The room smells. Of sweat and blood and disinfectant, of the ozone of electronics and the abrasive bite of acids. It's not a fully functioning lab, but with Brigham's portable set up that he brought with him it's remarkably close, only the most detailed and intensive equipment can't be found… and that's all been denied to them anyway as it was deemed to 'dangerous' to the prisoner.
He leans over a microscope and uses his hand, waving his fingers through the holodisplayed control panel without having to look at it to know what he wants done. In the air over him float five different projected screens, each a different sort of test. Metallurgical scans of the cyber components, seeking the small differences in Hostile metals over their own, biological genetic scans, electronic scans seeking any possible transmissions or still undiscovered means it may attack, and lastly a fully functional 3D lay out of it's entire body, cyber bits, it's various organs and systems, even the techno-whats its that are layered on it's skin. The scanning device Brigham used the day before was exceptionally thorough it would seem, and his hand very steady. "ARGGGH!" the small man cries in frustration, his arm lashing out and sending the micro scope suddenly hurtling through the air to smash into the wall with a crash. The screen that was showing what he was looking at flickers and fades.

Unlike Brigham, Ariana has taken the time to clean up and change into a fresh set of science attire before she returns to Khar-Mordune. She also has taken a few naps throughout the day, spending her time between tending to the patients at the triage and offering any assistance which she can within the labs. Ever since the examination of their guest, she was left with a heavy feeling of unease. Everything she has heard of these Hostile, aside, the thing in the holding cell, in Ariana's eyes, looked deceptively helpless, but the Larent noblewoman knows better than to lower her guard anywhere near Sarah One-One-Three.
So now she has returned to Khar-Mordune to see what more she can learn from their findings. Even as she enters the long corridor leading to the holding cell, her gaze is lowered to look through her various notes from their first interaction with their prisoner. The stench of sweat mingled with disinfectant goes mostly ignored, though it is at this moment when the smell grows all the more intense, that she finally lifts her gaze from her table to take notice of Brigham and his microscope. "Lord Brigham, is everything okay? Is something wrong?" The tablet now lowered and attached to her belt, she takes quick steps towards the man, before commenting, "You really should be getting some rest, My Lord… it is always best to start your research with a clear and awoken mind."

Brigham's fingers are digging at the metallic lab table he brought with him, as if he could tear through it like it was tissue paper or bend it with the strength of his hands alone. "I don't have /time/ to rest!" he snaps back at her, turning his unsettling gaze her direction. He's always been a little unhinged, a little wild, but it's been mostly harmless wild and almost endearingly silly with his boundless energy and leap frogging brilliant mind, hopping from one fascination to the next. It's enough that it's so very easy to forget how close to dangerous the small young man truly teeters. Cute Little Lord Brigham The Prodigy is but one tiny shove away from Mad Man Potential War Criminal Lord Brigham. His eyes are wide and darting, which wouldn't be to strange, but they're also bloodshot pink and unless she misses her guess, slightly dilated. Sleep deprivation has many side effects, two days in he should be giddy or exhausted, not… like this. Had he been sleeping /before/ the attack? This is more like a manic attack then anything else. He begins to pace quickly then stops to stare at the screens, then start again, then stop, then start, every step or two he pauses as if struck with an idea and then abandons it for another step. "Useless simpering fools have us playing patty cake child's games with that thing. Oh scan and make great leaps of discovery, but don't be to rough with the new toy, we don't want you scratching the fucking paint job. Stars forbid you be mean to it, it might hold a fucking grudge!" a soldering iron and a pile of half completed circuits joins the microscope as prototype flying lab tools.

Even though she is a doctor, Ariana has never been an expert in comforting her patients, her own cold personality usually makes her seem all the more aloof despite her tiny smile and reassuring words. During this little meltdown that her colleague is having, she is no different. She also knows well enough to keep her position at a distance and out of throwing rage or, at the very least, a throwing angle. Her own jaw tenses as she falls silent to merely watch Brigham as he paces. As he rants and raves. As he tries to go on with his work. Then out comes her own medical scanner and only then does the take a few more steps forward so that she can get a thorough enough scan of the man's vitals. "Have you had anything to eat today, My Lord? Or last night?" Or the day before… The scanner now lowered, she taps in some information as she continues to speak, "I am here to assist you on this matter, but I want you to step back and take a deep breath. I'm ordering some food and water for you and I want you to take in some nutrients at the very least. Then we may continue." She has never seen him so angry and yet… some of what he rants about is something which she has been thinking. "We need answers from it. Once we obtain the information which we are seeking…" And she leaves it at that. Then again, she is in no authority to make such decisions.

Brigham snorts and turns to stare at her, "Oh? So we'll just be really nice to it, fluff some pillows, maybe give it hugs and kisses and set up a puppy for it to sleep with at night. Surely we can trust a /Hostile/ not to lie to us when questioned, or perhaps it will just start spouting state secrets as we would expect one of our kind to do were it captured." he returns to pacing, "I haven't had time to eat sin-" he stops, "What day is it?" waves the question away and paces again, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, "Doesn't matter. I don't have time. I have to finish these scans, create the unique jack to interface with her tech, decrypt her software, learn a new programming language, figure out the extent to which her cybernetics exceed out own, create a comprehensive breakdown of those differences, figure out the unique and odd signatures in her genetic scans, while also creating a completely /new/ kind of math so that I can reach deeply into my ass and pull from it a complete and never before seen understanding of the unique relationships between interspacial travelgravityspeeddistanceandTIME! OF WHICH I HAVEN'T ENOUGH!" by the time he's done his words are running together and he's panting heavily, his fingers curling in on themselves like claws, his eyes darting about as if seeking a place to sink said talons. And then he quiets suddenly. "And I have to attend a funeral." and with that, he seems to deflate completely, starting to simply sink to the floor.

"I did not say that." Ariana says sternly, her eyes now directed at Brigham to meet his gaze. "No. I do not believe in treating this Hostile with kid gloves. These are the monsters who have slaughtered so many of our own. The monsters who continue to hunker down and hide in our forests, our mountains, our oceans." Tapping in an order for lunch for the both of them, she then moves forward and leans over to peer into the microscope which Brigham had been looking through earlier. She then draws away, turning to the side to regard the data being spouted out on a nearby screen. All the while, she listens to Brigham in the background raving in his sorrow and madness, before she finally returns her full attention to him at the very mention of a funeral. This has been on her mind the entire time as well and while she may be somewhat stunted emotionally, this is something she understands. "I know that I cannot say this to you or your family enough, Lord Brigham, but I really am sorry that we… failed to revive your sister." She is almost relieved when he stops with his manic actions, but yet, she cannot help but be concerned even more now. Moving over to him, she drops down to one knee to crouch down beside him. "I need you to rest. I need you to eat. Then I would like to discuss with you our findings and what steps we need to take next."

Brigham is silent for a long moment, his eyes closed, his shoulders slumped. "I'm the smart one." he says suddenly, turning to eye Airana, and where there was madness, now there's just big shiny tears and a lost look. "That's what I am. The smart one. They're the strong ones. That's what they do." he looks back down at his hands, the blood beneath the nails, and he shakes his head slowly. "I can't carry it all. I'm not… built for that." he closes his eyes and takes a slow long shuddering breath, and he holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly. "I need a shower, food, and to sleep." he says after a second long slow breath. His hands still shake and it takes an obviously physical act of will to force his mind to settle on one thing, something small. Like a list. A list of problems and solutions. He needs to tackle the little ones first. Something he can actually defeat. He needs a win. Badly. "Yes. Shower, sleep…" he nods, "Then…" he shudders, stopping, "No. I can't work on the creature Ariana. Not yet. I need… I need time." his hands curl into fists, "Need to clear my head, focus on something hard, but also something no one else is in charge of." he doesn't do well with political bonds holding him back. "You. You work on their toy, do whatever you think is best. I'll try to invent my new math and create maps of things that can't be mapped for my brother. Something hard, but simple, something not this. Something…" where there's no dead sisters or blood on him or Hostiles to look at and not be allowed to torture with exceptionally strong forms of acid. "not this."

Where another may have reached out to Brigham, giving him a reassuring touch or other on his shoulder, Ariana remains perfectly still, her hands both resting, overlapped, upon her one knee. The most reassuring or comforting thing about her, right now, is that she is crouched down so near and the tone which she uses is soft and light. "Your siblings are all strong and sometimes to be the strong ones… they make sacrifices to protect those like yourself. Like myself. And no one is expecting you to carry the weight of all of this, My Lord. You have family who will be there to offer your support and comfort and I know that they must have their own ideas on what they want to learn, find out and deal with when it comes to.." Sarah One-One-three "The thing in the cell. I want you to open up and speak to your siblings. They need you as much as you need them." Slowly, she begins to rise, her gaze making a grand sweep of all of the equipment within the room. "Take all the time you need. Doctor Hadrian Orelle is working diligently on his own research. You have your projects regarding this and can work independently from our prisoner, I think. But I also believe that you should rest on this." From somewhere down the hall, one of the soldiers arrives with two packages of fancy dishes from Ariana's favorite classy restaurant on Nubilus… Drinks are delivered as well. "For now, we put all of this research aside."

Brigham reaches up to wipe at his eyes angrily, "I don't want support or comfort. I want corpses." he says coldly, his eyes hardening again, but lacking the manic madness in lue of cold reasoning instead. "Stacks of them. You," he turns to eye her, "understand me better. They do not. They are…" he searches for the correct word, "good." and he's more like 'not evil'. "I'm going to avoid this project until I can clear my head." he decides with finality, "But first, food, then shower, then bed. Then," he eyes the food and scrambles over towards it with a fervor, "I do the impossible." he stuffs something that was steaming into his mouth with his bare hand, "Again." he mutters around Squirrel Cheeks.

Ariana isn't going to make a big fuss about Brigham's tearing up. It is a natural enough reaction to what he is going through, so there is no need to emasculate him in any way! His words, however, do capture her full attention and those icy blue eyes just stare deeply at his features to take in every single twitch of his eye or tensing of his jaw or quivering of his lips. Her own expression is a neutral mask. That is until… One of her perfectly shaped brows now arch as she listens to how similar she is to Brigham, unlike the rest, who just happen to be 'good'. Blinking at this in some confusion, she asks, "Good..?" Perhaps seeing herself as good. Waiting a moment longer for a reply, it seems that her question may have come too late because the next thing she knows, Brigham is already off devouring the delicacies all while nearly bowling the delivery soldier over. Slowly she rises to stand to take in and observe the young Lord's actions, but while his hunger was to be expected, she didn't really expect… well, from what she knows of Brigham, she probably did expect this sort of reaction. Making her way towards him, she gestures to the food, especially the one he swallows like a snake would. "I've ordered some veggie dumplings along with a Nubilus salad and a cup of soothing milk tea to drink. I hope that this is satisfactory." Even with these words said, she cannot help but go back to what Brigham mention just moments ago. Was she not good?

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