Evolutionary Dead End

[Molly Quincannon] Atlas hasn't seen Molly's place before - generally she gives an address and that's it. However, Atlas does have more info on the place than most people have when they first come to visit her in that he knows when he arrives that he's coming into a disused auto repair garage. There are, in fact, kids skateboarding on the little paved area that one could call a parking lot outside the property when he arrives, and their look at this new visitor suggests that they are not surprised; these kids think the person who lives in this building is mildly insane, and they've come to expect just about anything or anyone to walk up to that door.

That might have something to do with the fact that when Atlas arrives, he'll spot a discreet but visible lightning-bolt symbol on Molly's front door - the universal 'DANGER - HIGH VOLTAGE' sign. This is why Molly cautioned Atlas to "Use the doorbell and then step back two paces; you'll show up better on the security monitors."

Once Atlas has done so, there's a pause and then a *bzzt* noise. The door opens, and there stands Molly, her glasses askew and her hair more tousled than usual. On her shoulder sits a ferret; it chitters at Atlas in a querying sort of way. "Hey, Atlas," she says, standing back to let him into the chaos of plastic tubes, wires and circuit boards that her living room has become. "Come in, take a seat ... um, you can move the tubes. How's life?"

[Atlas Mason] Atlas had been amused, even entertained by the idea of living in an old service station. As he arrived and looked about, first at the outside and then of course on the inside he became more fascinated. It was technological of course, but in a different way from the Lafette, here was the lights and machinery of a different era, a different age of awakened. Where Atlas bordered on the realm of techno-shamanism, Molly was all computers and new century computer boards.

It was a rarity that he ever got to see someone's abode, and then man didn't bother with sitting down. He walked about examining the room that he was in, examining computers, chair styles, the air, and Molly can be sure he takes a good long look at her lighting system as well. Everything is examined even as the man smiles to her. "Socially agreeable vocalized transference of an amiable sort Molly. The chemical biological state of life as of this time frame remain suspended via frotean methodology. But my physical structure and all noospheric elements regarding are nominal at this time." He says it like he's saying thank you before he reaches out and puts a finger out before the ferret as he turns back to her.

"And your personage? Is it within nominal status as of this current juncture?"

[Molly Quincannon] The furniture is entirely mismatched - there are the two desk chairs from the Lafette that Atlas gave her, sitting behind the customer service desk upon which sit six humming computers. The lovely Lafette chairs flank a battered black desk chair that was probably rescued from a Dumpster. There's a ratty armchair, three beanbags and a poofy red microsuede loveseat. The 'end tables' are mostly milk crates and on inspecting the lighting system, he'll see that she's covered dangling light bulbs with pretty paper lanterns - probably at the same time as she covered the ceiling with big colourful silk scarves to hide the stark concrete there. The walls are covered in posters. Even without the colourful clear plastic tubes and the bits of circuitboards and the many, many computers (and even though this is obviously living space rather than working space), it's an eclectic, colourful sort of place. Molly watches Atlas look the place over, obviously not minding. She'd been about the same when she'd first seen the Lafette.

"Eh, I'm doing okay, all things considered." Now that he's seeing her in short sleeves, he can see the bandage on her left upper arm. The ferret, when Atlas points at it, leans forward to nuzzle Atlas' finger in a friendly sort of way. "Keeping busy, that kind of thing. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Soft drink? Iced tea? And what do you think of the place? This is mostly where I entertain guests. The workspace is next door."

[Atlas Mason] "H20 infused with a coffee bean refinement extract would be suitable to my palette and nutrient derivation tract at this moment Molly." He says with a nod as he takes another look about the room as he wiggles his finger a little to pet the ferret before withdrawing it and turning about bodily.

"The refractive qualities of the triangular fibre's of silken weave are not to be underestimated. However I am curious as to the particular thesis behind the purpose of fibre based planar shrouds encompassing your primary filament based light sources." He says gesturing briefly to the paper shrouded lights. "Planar physical arrestment devices are of a peculiarly vast frame of time and style spectrums, however given to the primacy of this particular theme throughout the physical space, it is appropriate and pleasantly designed and manufactured, if incomplete."

[Molly Quincannon] With a bit of a grin - there's something about the way that Atlas talks that always gets a bit of a smile out of Molly under all but the most dire circumstances - Molly heads over and pours Atlas a cup of coffee, offering it to him in the Starfleet mug she tends to reserve for company. Then she looks up at the paper lanterns. "Oh, those? No particular purpose; they're just there to filter the light so it's not so harsh as a bare bulb, and to look pretty. It's an alternative to chandeliers; kind of like a lampshade for overhead lights. And ... how do you mean incomplete?" She looks around. "What do you think is missing?" She hands him the mug and a bowl containing the little creamer containers and sugar packets one generally finds in fast food outlets.

She takes her own coffee and settles on the armchair. The ferret scrambles down as far as the arm, blinking at Atlas before running back up to Molly's shoulders. "Also, this is Neal," she says, indicating the ferret. "My little furry con artist. Gave me the cute beady eyes routine until I took him home and now I'm going to build the state's most awesome Habitrail set-up. That ought to give the place a bit more colour."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas shrugs as he looks about one more time before at last taking a seat on the loveseat, he seems to test it for comfort for a moment, before finding its material and density acceptable and settling into it, taking out only one sugar packet and dumping its contents into the black darkness of the coffee.

"The state of this physical space simply infers an incompleteness. The particulars of its lacking is undefined and would require further examination of the intrinsic elements of this particular locality." He says with casually before nodding to Neal.

He takes a moment then to stir his coffee twice...just twice before taking a tentative sip, which he checks for quality and flavour, before taking a further drink, and nodding to himself.

[Molly Quincannon] If there's one thing Molly does well, it's coffee. It's rich, smooth and strong - very strong. Molly looks around the place and shrugs. "Well, people keep telling me that I need, like, a coffee table and maybe a dining table and matching chairs and all kinds of stuff that most normal houses have, but I'm happy with the lack of clutter. Besides, I don't really want to put any more furniture in here until I've set up the ferret run Habitrail thing." She looks around and smiles a little ruefully. "It's eclectic and kind of crazy, but it's comfortable and colourful and it's home. I'll show you the workshop later; I'm working on a couple of projects you might think interesting."

She takes a sip of her own coffee (also black, but with a lot more sugar than Atlas takes), then asks, "Atlas? Do you know much about Nephandi? I ... it's just that ... I've got questions."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas had been pleasantly listening to Molly as he stared at a piece of silk that hung from the ceiling, watching it move and reflect and distort the light that hit it, he did so love the qualities of silk. But then the subject took a turn for something darker, something much darker almost so bad that it made him lose his appetite for coffee. He took the moment to find a suitable surface for the coffee to reside before leaning forward and regard the Cultist inquisitively, as if wary of something in particular.

"To what purpose do you require data upon this particular aspect of aberrant bioforms Molly? Knowledge of this type is restricted in extremis and requires viable and determinable cause to disseminate. First hand knowledge as well as account knowledge of Qlippothically altered personage's and unit's is extensive within my neuro synaptic data repository, in addendum...given your current state of existence and recent junctures within your previous temporal frames, gives considerable pause to the dissemination of this data."

He's careful, that much is sure, something has him rather worried as she asks for this kind of information.

[Molly Quincannon] "Viable ... and determinable cause?" Molly seldom looks at Atlas like he's speaking Swahili ... except for now. For her, it's nothing to do with not understanding his speech patterns but more of not understanding the viewpoint, exactly. "Atlas, look at it from my point of view. I am a curious person. I cannot put something out of my mind when it's all questions. I have tried. I failed. And they knew that. They knew it when they took me. They knew it and they used it. They taunted me with it. So there the questions are. In my head. You were the one that said that thinking about it is dangerous. Well, I can't stop without the answers. I'm asking because the wondering is going to kill me or worse. If I can satisfy the curiosity at least a little..." She sighs and looks at her coffee. "...Well, maybe I can stop wondering about it. Contemplating the what-ifs. Maybe I'll be able to sleep a little better, nights."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas listens to her answer, a very, very serious look on his face. Even when talking about relatively serious topics Molly might never have seen such a look on his features. This is something of particular important to him it would seem. That or she was of particular concern to him.

"These particulars are not without considerable and viable merit and value however primary concerns still stipulate that certain information may still be denied until certain aspects and requirements are met within parameter's determined by my personage."

At that he leans back and picks up the cup of coffee once more and seems to stare at it for a moment before speaking once more. "Initiate transference of data via verbal input and reception methodology...state your inquiry Molly."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly raises an eyebrow at him at that first bit ... but at this point, she's willing to take what she can get. Not to mention that she knows this kind of thing is not exactly easy to talk about, particularly if you have first-hand experience. "Just ... I mean, for starters ... what is this Qlippothic ... thing? It's not a term I know, but ... I guess I know what you mean. They ... did something to ... I dunno, my muscles or my nerves or something, and the resonance ... ugh. I just ... how does someone's resonance get like that? They ... the Nephandi, they ... used to be like us, and then ... how ... what ... what kind of thing can turn someone's Avatar that ... that wrong? What's in that Cauls thing they kept yammering at me about, anyway? They kept saying the traditional serpent-in-Eden shit, but there was never any actual answer."

[Atlas Mason] Molly rains questions down upon Atlas's head some of them simple...some of them are far from it. He seems to take a moment to work his way through the various queries made by the ever curious cultist of course she couldn't just ask one question at a time.

"Qlippothic is the identifier utilized to establish the parameter's of a corrupted and deteriorated paradigmically active personage. Qlippoth is often believed to be its primary derivative from the Judaic ethnic and socio-theological systems to represent evil." He says as he looks up at the drapes once more. "It is also utilized to describe and portray the particulars of the mages' intrinsic paradigmic radiative field. This field is altered and mutated when the individual enters the metaphasic reality and temporal distortion commonly identified as a 'caul'.

It's at this point that Atlas shivers ever so slightly, as if remembering something particularly unpleasant. "Theories, and rare eye witness accounts stipulate that what lies within the distortion is an entity of Qlippothic nature, in some cases, though questionable it is believed that it is infact the primary apex entity that various divisions within the nephandic conglomeration identify as their progenitor."

[Molly Quincannon] There are three words there that Atlas maybe shouldn't have said. "...'rare eyewitness accounts'? You mean ... people have gone through that and not ... changed or died or anything? And ... they saw ... entities? Of evil. ...Are we talking about Cthulu shit? We are, aren't we? Great Google, it's Great Old Ones. What does not squish us drives us nuts. But ... huh. So they're basically feeding people to Cthulu, who proceeds to either eat them or pumps their Avatars full of toxic waste. Which ... is it the inversion of the Avatar that makes them crazy? I mean, they've all been so ... so sadistic. Is ... there anything left of the original person, in one of these Barabbi things?"

[Atlas Mason] "Negative, rare eyewitness accounts refers to located, neutralized and interrogated nephandic aberrant individuals. Once a personage enters the cauls, they are either consumed by the entity within, or are paradigmically inverted."

He says with a sad shake of his head. "Extraction from a caul untainted is not something catalogued within any available data source." He pauses and looks perplexed. "Cthulhu? Characterization from writer HP Lovecraft...an adequate analogy, however still poorly framed."

He shifts in his seat slightly, sipping the drink before continuing. "Certain aspects of initial personality traits and frame work remain after inversion, however all individuals which undergo such intrinsic inversion are inherently deranged, and negatively aligned, their new purpose to corrupt, destroy, and defile, it is their primary objective and is maintained and pursued with vigour and all available time units."

[Molly Quincannon] ".......Oh."

That's to the first bit; though the bit about no recorded instances of someone going into the cauls and coming out alive and untainted still seems to give the Cultist cause to muse over it. Just because a thing hasn't been recorded doesn't mean it's impossible. Molly has trouble with that word.

The Lovecraft thing gets a shrug. "Hey, it's about all the analogy I've got. Not just Cthulu, either. There's a whole pack of Great Old Ones, like Hastur and Cxaxukluth and Hziulquoigmnzhah and the Dweller in the Gulf and all that." She shrugs. "Works as close as I can figure it, anyway. I never liked Lovecraft much," she adds. "The man was a racist jerk."

She ponders a moment over the bit about bits of personality remaining; wondering, perhaps, what of her would stay and what would go if she ever went to the cauls, to judge by the shudder. That last bit, though, gets flailing. "But ... why? Corruption I get, kind of, but what happens when they run out of things to corrupt? I mean, I don't want them to destroy everything anyway, but the whole idea is counter-productive! If you meet that goal, there's nothing left to do because everything's all gone to shit! Where's the progress in that ideology? It's like this big evolutionary dead end!"

[Atlas Mason] "Evolution and progressive existence is not the concern of negatively afflicted paradigmic individuals or their supporting powers. Nullification of all, rendering into primordial antiquated state is the objective. If obtained it is hypothesized that all remaining aberrant factors would render themselves into a similar state, thus terminating all known existence." He says with certainty.

"They do not exist within this reality with any sane, or commendable purpose, they are 100% and beyond mathematical probability the direct correlation of their progenitors will, which is inimical to standard and accepted existence Molly."

[Molly Quincannon] No, Molly's still flailing. "But ... but if they're nullifying all of existence, doesn't that mean them too? If they're looking at ... at nullifying everything, doesn't that mean where they live? And ... you know, them? What kind of stupid freaked-out Umbral fuck-up wants to destroy everything including itself? I mean, we're talking about the actual end of existence here; why would they want that?" She frowns. "I mean, do they really think their lot in the universe sucks so bad?"

[Atlas Mason] To that Atlas can only shrug. "Intrinsic understanding of intended plans and objectives of aberrant factors such as Nephandic agents and their primary deific entities is incomplete. Several theories hypothesize that these entities would then render reality in a sense more fitting to their personalized existence. Such theories are based upon testimonies from captured aberrants, but should be classified as fallacies devised to corrupt and lure those of poor noospheric qualities."

[Molly Quincannon] "But..." There's further flailing, and Molly's apparently thinking way too hard about this. "...But we're talking all of reality here. To build from the ground up, don't you need ground to stand on? And if these captured Nephandi are lying, then there's still the problem of not having anything to do if they ever meet their objective! This doesn't make any sense at all, just from the whole place where there's logic!" She slumps in her seat, knees curled up to her chest, and contemplates her coffee. "I know Nietzsche said 'He who fights with monsters should be careful least he thereby becomes a monster. When you stare at the abyss, the abyss stares back at you', but... how else do you actually figure out what the hell they want beyond the basic 'corrupt and destroy' thing without ... looking at it? This is freakin' nuts."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas nods seriously "Nuts, an appropriate analogy, logic, is also something that must be subtracted from the primary equation. This conglomeration is not operating on a level based within the realm of logic or any standard philosophical or methodological process. Understanding their basis requires a personage to become one, at that juncture your purpose is to facilitate that philosophy, and to become aberrant yourself." He shakes his head. "Understanding of intrinsic elements in this particular instance...is undesirable Molly."

[Molly Quincannon] "Yeah, that was basically the point of the Nietzsche," is Molly's response. "But how are you supposed to be able to--?" Then she shakes her head. "Y'know what? Never mind. I get it. It's not something any sane person can answer. Gotcha. Change of subject."

Though Molly manages a reasonable change of subject, and keeps conversation light and gadget-oriented throughout the rest of Atlas' visit, it's quite clear that she is still pondering this. Despite the inadvisability of it, the impossibility of understanding the monster without becoming it ... Molly's still trying. Grateful as she is for the answers she's received, they've hurt as much as they've helped. Though she's trying desperately hard not to show it. Thus Atlas leaves with some bits of scrap left over from the steel reinforcement of her front door, the number of a guy she knows who might be able to give him a good price on carpeting for the Lafette ... and possibly slight worry.