Mun just finished the third game and got bitten by the F.E.A.R. bug again...

[boot2thehead]

[Ooh, now his mun remembers him. That only took months until a Steam sale. Not that he could really complain about being remembered. Even if it means said mun trying to reconcile both game worlds by making one a hallucination.

That definitely wouldn't make him confused about the whole train-subway thing. Or what was going on while he was enjoying Armacham's 'hospitality'.

Or about his entire team not being dead.]

Well, now what?

[Please tell him he's not just going to be stuck sitting here again, twiddling his thumbs. He's not good at that.]

Comments

[allyoucaneat]

[Very little is coincidence, Paxton would have told him, especially since he knew the boy had been bred for war, to be the ultimate soldier. Of course he was the only one who survived.]

We were all that the other had. The teams of scientists poking us, prodding us, forcing us to do the unthinkable, pumping us full of drugs. They hurt us, brother, but we always came back to each other. Our little room, was our little haven. We didn't know what normal was but when we were with each other, that became normal for us.

I wonder... with a little prodding of my own, if I could help you to remember.

[boot2thehead]

[All things considered, he can't imagine things going any other way. Armacham sent one prototype to deal with the other, because of course they have their claws in everything. Though he still hopes they surprised them along the way.]

Can't remember it.

[Everything lost between being taken from Alma and enlisting in the Army at 18. Though the scientists poking and prodding was familiar enough; they did that throughout his service.
The suggestion of prodding from Fettel quiets him for a while, brows furrowing in thought.]

... Worth a shot, maybe?

[allyoucaneat]

[Surprise shows on his face by his eyebrows raising, and a pleased smirk spreads his lips. After all that Mother and he had played with Point Man's mind he finds delight in that his brother would welcome it once more.

For one brief moment he considers taking himself inside his brother's body, possessing him, feeding on his soul and enjoying the breath of his life. It's very tempting, this man is powerful and his body would feel such a pleasure-

But he is family and for all of Paxton's sometimes cruel or patronizing words he does love his brother, and he does not wish him dead. He wishes him to remember, and to return his love, and share his vision for what must be done.]

Worth a shot. Interesting choice of words.

[He says no more as he reaches up with both hands and steps up close to his brother, his palms on either side of the other's head, and wispy red mist coils around Point Man's head and enters his mind. To his credit Paxton does try to be gentle with this, but he's unsure what the effect will be and just what memories he will bring full to surface... if any.]

[boot2thehead]

[He's had more than a few moments where he's hesitated to enter long hallways since he became familiar with the work of his mother and brother. Transferring him from cell to cell in the prison had practically taken an act of God; he can plant his feet a little more heavily than when he was young.

Though he's gotten comfortable with having some kind of hand in a fight with his unusual family. He has enough mental acuity to fight off at least some of what the more powerful psychics are capable of. Otherwise he wouldn't be so willing to submit to his brother's ministrations. He's certain that if push came to shove he could handle a fight.

He doubts that's what Paxton Fettel is after, though. He'd had ample opportunity for that already.

Point Man offers a slight, thin smile - as much as he ever smiles, really.]

Let's make sure it stays words.

[A gentle warning. He lets it drop after, holding still beyond shifting his gaze to Paxton's hands for a moment. He's not entirely sure what he should expect from this - neverminding that he resists a while on instinct - but what he gets is certainly not what he had expected. Not that, even with his sibling's words, he had really figured on tortured children.]

[allyoucaneat]

[How much will get through that thick head of his Paxton can't be sure, but he attempts to share with him what he can. Not all of it he remembers himself, given the amount of drugs they had injected him with and the fact he barely made it through two Synchronicity Events with his sanity in tact - of course the scientists would say he went stark raving mad but Paxton disagrees with that.

There's a small room with two beds, two boys in jumpsuits playing pretend guns with each other. The memory skips around, sometimes the younger boy is left alone sometimes it's the older, one or the other is brought back drugged and dazed, or battered and bruised. The memory skips to the younger child, a bloody bandage around his head and he's tantruming with his hands to his head as the scientists tell him to concentrate on a soldier who is standing there lax and motionless, a drone soldier. Another memory of both boys with electrodes hooked to their chests and foreheads and scientists twittering around them, shaking their head at the older boy as if he's such a disappointment. The younger boy begins to seize and the scientists seem pleased at such... progress.

On and on these memories are shared with his brother until they end in what's more a hallucination than a memory, of the two of them on a playground together, laughing and happy. Alma stands in the foreground watching in the guise of a child, her legs dripping and bloody.

Paxton pulls his hands away and takes a step back, watching and waiting to see if any of this registers with his brother, if it triggers any of his own memories or not.]

[boot2thehead]

[What Point Man had to start with were facts - a million projects no one knew about, second prototype, first prototype, first was deemed a failure (surprise and guess what, soldier), the Synchronicity and all that death and enraged warnings on answering machines from a voice that somehow, deep down, scared him a little. Those, and a scant few hallucinations, or visions, or memories. This is more. The connecting pieces between what he knew and what he thought he knew. Hard facts and nightmares and this.

It doesn't all register for him. Not Paxton's emotions, at least, but his mind latches on to the memories and fills in with frustration and bitterness. All of the pain and trials and he still amounted to nothing to the scientists, no matter how much he pushed himself. Which he had, even if it failed to impress, which is often did. There wasn't a way he could match up, to the men and women in the white lab coats. Not that it mattered when the tests were over and he could just spend time with his cellmate without it being a competition. The only real social interaction he got, but it was... happy... until the scientists came back. Happy enough, though he could recall instances of fights between them - silly kid stuff (even with what they endured they were still children, sometimes) and a few more serious. And all those times his cellmatebrother had gotten upset and he got worried when the beds started moving by themselves. Being disturbed when the coloring came out of the books and onto the walls and floors because something was going wrong here and he didn't know what. Those moments were interspersed with play shootouts and jumping on the beds when they weren't supposed to and the occasional game of Keep Away (where his height had advantage over Paxton's brain, for once).

The hallucination throws him for a little bit of a loop. Things that were never to be.

His fingers twitch briefly as it ends, and he takes his own step back, looking at his brother with at least a little more recognition than he had before. He cards one hand through his hair before saying anything.]

They liked you best.

[But even what little he'd gotten back, familiar as it was, it felt like watching himself through a camera. It was there and it made his stomach turn... and it was all so far away now. He hadn't been that kid since he lost those memories.]

[allyoucaneat]

[A slow grin. Paxton is doubly pleased, that his brother not only remembers something but that he remembers that.]

Yes, I am the favorite.

[And he says this in the present tense, meaning not only was he the favorite of the scientists while they were children but also currently, in regards to Mother. Paxton is entirely confident he's the favorite. Really it's not so much any of Point Man's wrongdoing, he just has a harder time absorbing Mother's memories and thoughts whereas it comes so naturally to Paxton.]

Now, do you regret? Brother.

[boot2thehead]

[The confidence from Paxton in regard to their worth is only a brief sting before it smooths over. He'd been desperate to prove himself, once... these days, he's confident enough in his abilities to not bother. He won't get dragged down by needing to show off again; easier to just do what comes naturally and let things fall as they may. Their mother's decision of her favorite is up to her.]

Seem stuck on that, Fettel.

[In truth he rarely regrets shooting anyone, relatives and objectives aside.]

I regret that there didn't seem like another way for it to go.