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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

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[voidmath]

Weren't you just saying you didn't want me to take Shen Wei in your place? As though moving on wasn't tempting enough already.

He doesn't even say it all that meanly - diffidently, dismissively.

[littletonoidea]

He even gives his answer on beat to the chorus, not dropping a bar.

Then I can call my friends up! Once you're off my back, they're gonna pound your ass in!! We didn't start the fire--!!

[voidmath]

Obviously I'd kill you on the way out.

He still doesn't know about the death toll. Not quite enough skimming. A Shuos would never have made that mistake, but he was bored of people talking.

He touches the makeshift cattle prod to the inside of Eiffel's forearm, sending a nasty jolt through the big nerves there. The body jerks and the air smells like burnt hair. Eiffel can't control the body, but he's the one that feels the pain.

Perhaps I'll leave you in several chunks for Jedao to find. He blames himself so easily.

[littletonoidea]

When Eiffel's thoughts suddenly cut short, there's an almost visceral sensation to his thoughts of a glitch flickering. Purely psychosomatic, but neat.

But holy shit that hurt, and it gets Kujen a good few seconds of silence as Eiffel's body is forced to breathe through the pain.

And there's a flicker of determination, like a stubborn piece of grit that won't be scrubbed off the gears. You want hard ball, Kujen, you got it.

Four faces get plastered across the inside of Eiffel's eyes, so intensely it's nearly a hallucination.

IS THIS THE REAL LIFE? IS THIS JUST FANTASYYYYYY!!

[voidmath]

You're actually a better singer than Jedao, Kujen observes, dourly.

He runs the tip of the prod over the fresh burn, although he doesn't activate it, mentally calculating how much voltage will render the arm unusable in the short term.

[littletonoidea]

There's a shiver of pain that rattles up Eiffel's arm when the burn gets played with, that makes his symphony stutter.

I'll take "Prove you've never made Jedao genuinely happy" for one hundred, Alex.

And takes another, deliberately off-key route.

Mostly it's an inarticulate scream, because Eiffel is passionate, not lyrically accurate.

[voidmath]

There's a ripple of emotion from Kujen - genuine confusion.

...I suppose you could both be tone deaf.

And then - the distinct sound of an internal station door. Light footsteps. Kujen waits until Hakkai is in the stairwell, and gives it another count of five before stepping back into the hallway.

[littletonoidea]

Nononono--

God damn it why wasn't this working-??

You're never gonna get anywhere with me, you know- a-as soon as someone hears you talk like a freaking space Nazi instead of a goddamn home grown loser you're gonna get tied up in a closet, best case scenario!!

[voidmath]

With you, I am going to get through this door, Kujen predicts smugly. The door does, indeed, open for Eiffel's face, and close behind them. With Hakkai gone there's no one to stop Kujen from methodically ransacking the bedroom for Jedao's communicator and key.

[littletonoidea]

Jedao this feels like a very big oversight in security that he can just walk in here possessed!!

As soon as Hakkai finds out what you're doing he's going to make sure you don't see anything except the bars of the goddamn prison! No one here is gonna protect you!!

[voidmath]

You are over-estimating his carceral leanings. Have you ever been choked to death by hand? It's a bit boring, as these things go. Very...gurgly. It takes longer than anyone thinks. Is Hakkai the type to make the same mistake twice?

He pulls open a closet, revealing the heap of a tied-up, cooling corpse. Blood pools in dark finger-stripes on its partially swollen neck. The face would be stunningly beautiful, if not for the waxy, repulsive slackness of death, the way the flesh no longer seems to hold its own weight anymore, sagging on the bone. Kujen fleeces its pockets briskly, and finds the engine room key. Jedao hadn't slept with his communicator on him, but this - yes, that makes sense.

[littletonoidea]

A violent nausea suddenly swims through Eiffel's body, regardless of Kujen's control: Eiffel doesn't like bodies, nor the fact that Kujen is fucking playing with it, and a lot of his outrage flickers out in favour of disgust and empathy for this poor random guy that got consumed by Kujen.

You're a monster.

There's no grandiosity or play behind the insult. Just the quiet, real horror of seeing the results of his work.

[voidmath]

Me? But this is Hakkai's handiwork.

Quite literally. Kujen is about equally amused by the pun and the sadistic opportunity to rub Eiffel's face in it - thankfully, not literally.

Oooh - he pulls something small and crystalline from the other pocket, his amusement vanishing in a spike of excitement. Once he's sure Mahar's body isn't concealing anything else useful, he shoves it back into the closet haphazardly. Leaving it strewn on the floor would only tip off Hakkai, and Kujen doesn't have a lot of time to be dodging extra complications.

[littletonoidea]

And there's that fury again, cold in a way that twists his stomach unpleasantly. At least there's no literal blood on his hands, but the callous disregard is still sickening.

I'm gonna make sure he doesn't kill you. And it's a threat as much as a promise. I'll make sure you rot in Zero for the rest of the flood so you know how it feels to be goddamn helpless.

[voidmath]

He does know, of course. Why else would he have spent so time and effort ensuring it would never, ever happen to him again? And now Jedao, of all people, has brought him so close -

Go back to the songs. They were less predictable.

He considers searching for Shen Wei's file. But that's probably much better hidden, if Jedao didn't destroy it entirely after memorizing it. Not worth the risk. He slips out, heading back up to the first floor.

[littletonoidea]

How about you give a damn about the people you're hurting! That'd be a pretty fucking different fiddle for you!

God he's going to grill Jedao so hard about setting up fucking secret passwords or something later for him.

You know what is predictable? That we're gonna stop you!!

[voidmath]

Caring is what stops men of ability from using all the tools at their disposal, Kujen explains, in a terribly teacherly tone.

Which is why I will always win, and you will lose. I've already done the math.

[littletonoidea]

Get off your high horse and go sit on a dick.

He's not going to comment about the math, because smarter people have tried manipulating Eiffel and every time it's exploded in their faces. He's not about to give up being a wildcard and unknown variable just yet.

[voidmath]

Perhaps later.

There's a conveniently empty cabin right beside Eiffel's. Kujen slips inside and settles himself cross-legged on the floor. Eiffel has the dubious pleasure of witnessing an unproductive conversation.

[littletonoidea]

Honestly that lifts Eiffel's mood like nothing else. At least the Admiral was sensible. And it gives him the energy to rally and start another song.

I've got a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves~ I've got a song that'll get on your nerves and it gooooes liiiiike thiiiiis--

[voidmath]

Too bad. Still - he lets himself hum along with it, whatever it is. No doubt the inanity will make him seem more like the anchor to anyone he encounters in the stairwell, as he goes down and down, toward the engine room.

[littletonoidea]

You're not supposed to enjoy me being annoying.

He sounds put out and annoyed by it more than anything else. It's still very distressing to feel his body doing things without him, and right now he's doing the (extremely visualised) mental equivalent of pacing in a cage trying to think of ways to get around this.

She's not gonna listen to you! he points out desperately. She's gonna know you're not Jedao, that you're not even me! She's way smarter than you are!

[voidmath]

It is annoying, really - but Kujen didn't get to be as old as he is without developing some patience. He's a hard man to perturb.

It doesn't matter how smart slaves are.

What matters is how vulnerable they are to control.

Inside the Engine Room, Kujen begins by examining the interfaces, fiddling with a few of the panel patterns.

[littletonoidea]

GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!!

That is a vicious yell, even and especially by Eiffel's standards, and his hands actually tremble with the force of Eiffel trying to pull control back.

He doesn't know how to project his thoughts to anyone else but he can sure as hell think in Morse fucking Code, and a rapid-fire string of beeps and boops that will mean nothing to Kujen and hopefully something to the Barge rattles through his brain.

babe if you can hear me zap me right now get him off you

[voidmath]

The barge doesn't react, but Kujen does, a wave of shocked affront at the defiance - at the hands trembling, at substantive defiance. It's been so long since anyone fought him.

(Anyone except Jedao, so very, very recently, holding him in place to die -)

That's enough! The mental command is utterly cold, utterly contemptuous, remote as the stars, precise as the last digit of pi, furious as a bully interrupted. He wants to be stating the facts of the universe, but Eiffel can hear the petty, self-centered childishness in his snarl.

Kujen tases Eiffel in the belly.

Shut up, now.

This part, he does have to concentrate for. He produces the crystalline lens, and begins calculating the Calendrical adjustments that will allow him to bend the timeline of the flood.