sirenspull | [Voice]

Entry tags:

[Voice]

In the light of current events, as well as an increasing awareness of our dependency on electronic assistance, it begs the question...

Humankind really is over-reliant on our own technological advancements, aren't we?

My own city of Romdeau fell in part because of the Cogito Virus, which gave rise to the revolt of artificial intelligence. We could not function in our day-to-day lives without entourage and other service autoreivs handling menial operative tasks within the dome. People went mad, lost sheep- it was really quite humbling, how easy crippled we were. How childlike and helpless. Myself included. This world has changed me even in the simplest ways.

Three years ago, prior to my arrival, I'd never really done any cooking for myself, or cleaning for instance, or... so many things. Blackouts would render even the modern day hospital effectively paralyzed, if not for our backup generators.

(This is an awfully ironic conversation to be opening over NV, isn't it?)

All the same, my curiosity is piqued-

Some of you are from ages before the development of computers, androids, networks, lights, motorized vehicles, electronic devices and appliances, digital media, etc, etc...

I'd really like to know- what was it like? How did you live? What was the adaptations necessary, living "hands on", and without tools? Reliant on only face to face communications.

How is it for you now? Improved? Or do you feel as we're all inadept and talentless by comparison, as drone-like as the binary accessories which support us?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'll pick something up on the way home.

Excellent. I'll be waiting. [He does do quite a good impression of prim, when he feels like it.]

[Daedalus comes home with two flatbreads from the FreshMart and some spinach salad, a halfquart of roasted butternut squash soup, figuring it's best to keep things on the lighter side, for what bodes to be a heavy conversation.

It's not that he hasn't been honest about his work for SERO. It's not a very tedious division- has it's share of controversy from those who morally oppose eugenics, and their sister labs have been blown up twice now, but aside from that the risks are minimal.

It's the other work- advising those few patients exploited by the companies to seek legal counsel, releasing paperwork as evidence to the courts, using the labs for things like running tests for 'personal inquiry' (IE: Sephiroth and Genesis' curious genetics) and cheating the system for some of his special cases, like Godot...

There's a likelihood that someday, he'll slip, and things could go very badly for his career. Daedalus considers it the risk factor of being a good doctor, and a scientist who reserves his own rights to private research. He did this in Romdeau too, in fledgeling rebellions. His side projects. Disconnecting his entourage from central surveillance. Boldly holding to his own secrets. He'd lost the position once, but that was for a failure that wasn't technically his fault.

Still, Franz isn't quite the red tape snipper he is, and...maybe it's time his boyfriend is due the full warning. He sighs and keys into the apartment, setting down the brown bag on the counter and pulling off his doctor's coat.]

[Franz is reading on the couch with the dog, who naturally hops down to give Daedalus an enthusiastic greeting. The wine is already open, perhaps unsurprisingly. Franz sets his book down, following Daedalus into the kitchen to start setting the food out. Even if it's takeout Franz insists on dishes, insists on some illusions.]

You look like you've had a hell of a day.

[He's more honest with Daedalus than he is with almost anyone: there's no false cheer about it, no pretense at ribbing. Just observation.]

[Daedalus tries not to trip over the Pomeranian prancing around his sneakers, not slipping out of them till he's set down his work bag by the desk, closed the balcony curtains and wandered into the bedroom to change out of scrubs and into a flannel pajama set- retiring to an early night home.

He groans in response to Franz's question, shaking his head.]

At least whoever's messing with the patient intake consoles at the front desk hasn't decided to tamper with the respirators.

...yet.

Well... that's reassuring.

[Franz is still dressed from the day, though he'd insist it was a casual outfit - there are dark jeans involved. He still hasn't abandoned wearing light scarves over his clothes, though at least now he has the excuse of the season coming into play... though Siren's Port itself seems to forget that. He smiles at the sight of his love in his pajamas, looking fussy and childish even as he talks of his hospital job. Franz pulls out a chair for him, pouring him a glass of wine.]

Here. You look as if you need it.

[Reassuring for the patients, at least- staff was a bit crippled without the computer systems, taking vitals without machines. Ushering in more magicians to do the work of doctors.]

Well, they haven't replaced me with an all-purpose handwaving 'healer' yet, so... [a sigh, Daedalus slides into his usual seat with a helpless sort of shrug, blinking absently over the arranged plates and trying to decide he has an appetite at all. He eventually reaches for the wineglass and drags it against his lips.]

We'll just see how things stand by next monday.

...And if disaster strikes on Monday, I'm not to support you for it? [It's a somewhat awkward segue, but though he has every sympathy for his boyfriend's work stresses, Franz has no intention of dancing around the subject. The heaviness of the unspoken is a terrible seasoning for a meal. He adds, softly:] What was the meaning of all that, Daedalus?

[If it were anyone else, he would remind them not to lie, but Daedalus knows. He probably knows it better than anyone.]

[Daedalus sits a long time with his eyes closed, shoulders slumping forward looking for all the world like a man of fifty years of regrets in the body of a somber teenager.

His mind hadn't dodged the inevitable question, on the way home. He'd prepared half a dozen ways to put this, a serious conversation, one he perhaps should have taken up a long time ago. This wasn't completely rehearsed, but he' given it some thought.]

I'm a good doctor. [He begins steadily, with the sort of placid conviction that makes Daedalus an easy sort of person to confide in.] Because of the horrible things I've done, before, I aim to be a very good doctor, here. There's a reason those are hard to come by.

I've... taken shortcuts, with some patients. [Shortcuts and longcuts and erased records, sunken lab costs and a scalpel to the red tape. Snuck in unconventional treatments- on last quarterly review, his supervisor had asked him why on earth he hadn't started at SERO's hallowed halls of experimental medicine.] To help them get the care they need. Sometimes I don't...follow policy to the ledger.

But you know that, I've already been reprimanded by the hospital on a few occasions before. [Premature babies and Kurt's incident, keeping Samus Aran secret, giving newcomers more access to medication coverage than he should.]

Some of the work I do goes directly against SERO's best interests, too. There are research results that don't go directly back to corporate. There are resources I make my own use of.

[Genesis and Sepiroth's gene maps, which would never go to the hands of some who would itch to get their hands on such things, if they knew. He'd used SERO equipment, on the clock, for 'hobbyist' genetic counseling.]

I don't want you to try and take on the burden of my judgement on the job, if things ever get serious. For obvious reasons of confidentially I can't tell you exactly what that entails, but-

Malpractice and insurance fraud aside, I want you to know that there are going to be things I do, choices I make, which carry a certain degree of risk, or the sort of decisions which might be damaging to public reputation.

What I meant was, Franz- [His eyes lift, with that sort of pained vulnerability that's difficult to watch. Daedalus is still not used to juggling the daring margins of his career with a partner at home in mind.] I love you too much to let you suffer the consequences of what I do on behalf of my calling. If it ever comes to that- I don't expect it will, but I can't be overconfident-

We're a couple, but I want to be clear: I don't want you to feel chained to my professional accountability.

[Franz drinks. He can't think of what else to do. He reflects on the situation and his stomach twists on himself. This isn't about him so he doesn't voice the thought, but still he has to wonder why he always goes for men with ideals so lofty they're bound to destroy him someday. Maybe because he's the same.]

I appreciate you not keeping me in the dark about it, though honestly... Due to my inability to lie, it'll probably come out that I knowingly aided you. Didn't stop you or leave you. So, I'm already in trouble. [Franz smiles quietly, eating a few spoonfuls of soup.] I don't know what you I could do if your sins find you out. Your conscience would never forgive me if I broke you out of jail, right?

You aren't aiding me in this- [Daedalus insists, shaking his head. A wane smile riddles across his mouth] Not beyond keeping me loved and sane and satisfied and in good conscience, but that isn't a crime.

[Not in this day and age, at least.]

I would never ask you to break me out of jail, if it came to that.

I keep you satisfied, do I? [Franz grins before nibbling his bread, all too pleased.]

Why not? I'm very good at breaking people out of things. It could be fun, except for the part where I don't have a train to whisk you away onto...

Quite. [He finally allows himself an indulgent sip of wine]

I'd imagine it would be difficult for either of us to get by keeping too low a profile.

Really? But you're so good at being sneaky. [Franz just shakes his head, chuckling as he drinks a little more wine. It's always just a little more, just a little more.]

Right. So snatching you out of captivity is out of the question. But you don't want me to at least defend your good name if something goes awry? [A careful pause.] I know you... you might do wrong things, but usually for the right reasons. And the rules aren't always right to begin with anyway.

Well, that doesn't mean we're going to live under floorboards or anything.

...I think you have too much potential, to waste on me, if I happen to slip up. You have so much you could be.

I'd rather waste it on you than Raul Creed, and it seems inevitable it'll be one of you. [Ah, yes. The infamous chuckle that accompanies one of Franz's not-really-jokes. It's a master execution.]</>

Ah, and there you go, selling yourself short again.

Think I can reach that level of scandal on my own? [A scoff.] I happen to be very mild-mannered!

We were talking about your potential for success, not scandal.

I am successful. I'm doing important work and I don't actually sleep at my office which I would probably do if I didn't have a dog and a boyfriend. [The dog only comes first because that was his original excuse, to begin with.

His father's work always came before his personal life. His duty. Like it or not, Franz preserved the work ethic.]

Well to be fair, I probably would too! [Daedalus laughs, self-effacing, because it's all too true that he'd be even more eager to pull overtime without Franz to come home to.]

But I meant- beyond merely being someone's assistant, at a social club. Law, like you've talked about before, or civil relations-

That's not all I do, it's mostly NPP stuff now. I just do the club stuff... when he's too busy. Or he's fired someone. Or given them a nervous breakdown. Or he turns into someone else. Or... [Franz sighs and pours himself more wine. He pours a little for Daedalus, too, but he's hardly touched his.]

Doing the occasional class now and then is fine, but I just have this nightmare of missing an exam because Raul needed his drycleaning...!

Edited 2012-09-29 07:44 (UTC)

You're worth so much more than running another man's drycleaning, Franz. [Daedalus sighs in very wearied fondness, a tired exasperation when shuts his eyes and shakes his head, an finally reaches one hand across the table to still tentatively over Franz's.

He might be awfully fetching at it, and know all the ins and outs of charming the pants off of other service industry workers and clients at the club alike, but Daedalus still thought deep down that it was really all entourage work, support staff, and that surely Franz could do better. Perhaps not work harder, but towards more significant things than running so many household errands for his boss.

Or maybe he simply didn't like the idea of his boyfriend being anyother man's assistant very much. Working directly under Raul- it had been fun, at first, but sometimes he was afraid Raul would lord Franz's job over him, if things ever got tense between citizens.]

I hope you do understand that.

No I'm not. I'm not someone who was extraordinarily talented at anything right out the gate. I have every intention of riding Raul's coattails until I get a little older. Once I'm thirty or so people might stop looking past me. They'll see I've been there all along. And they'll probably see I planted one of the knives sticking out of Raul's back... but that's only in the case of him eventually going mad.

[Which he actually sort of believes could happen. Franz has seen a lot to make him lose faith in men like Raul.]

--But it would help to have a degree from one of our fine institutions., at some point. Even if I'd become a diplomat, it's not like they let you talk to the aliens right off.

But Thirty! Goodness, making me wait till I'm an old man! Maybe my institutions will even let newcomers out of residency, by then!

[he jests, tempted to point out that Franz could probably do so much better than coattails, if he aspired to seriously]

Thirty's the age most people submit for- or... well I guess, have children by, here.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject