eating, sleeping and breathing song magic

So I'm playing through Misha's path right now for the first time, and I've noted that she says that she really was singing constantly: from sunrise to sunset, and to sunrise again. It really sounds like she didn't sleep, and I seem to recall that one of the talk topics around this time confirms that she was only able to sleep normally recently.

So it's pretty much assured that she didn't eat, drink or sleep as a regular person would need to. Therefore, I'm imagining she must have had to be on some sort of life support; constantly hooked up to a machine that would give her nutrients, shut down parts of her brain on a preset schedule so that she could get something resembling rest while still singing, and so forth. Or perhaps the lack of rest is why Star Singers die so young; but presumably she would need at least some infusion of chemicals and energy to keep her awake, and this assumes that Reyvateils don't quickly go mad from lack of sleep, as humans would.

Does anyone have any ideas on how the heck Misha, or any of the Star Singers, stayed alive all that time?

Also, I've noted that she talks about "a silver fence with treasure behind it" in one of her talk topics, but we couldn't see a fence like this in the Chronicle. What specifically is going on with this? (Yes, bear with me, this is the first time I've played Misha's path. Not actually having the game with me impedes my ability to replay somewhat.)

On Mir and redemption.

So I was musing about something I said to elhermano/Dustiferous back in a comment on one of my earlier entries: about how Mir didn't want redemption.

Redemption is a tricky phrase to clarify. There are a number of concepts involved in treating your enemies sympathetically and giving to them rather than defeating them, and the associated changes that might occur in them, and I think "redemption" gets used as a catch-all; it's the word for "what happens to villains when you don't kill them", but that's not always it. Redemption implies saving someone from themselves, taking them out from under the weight of their own cruelties and giving them perspective.

I was saying that Mir didn't want redemption, and I think that that's not strictly true in that sense of redemption; I do think she wanted to be saved from her own cruelties. But I think I had an impression of what redemption meant at the time that wasn't quite correct. I was sort of thinking of... a heavy-handed kind of redemption where someone goes up and goes "by the superior moral wisdom invested in me, I hereby declare that you were utterly wrong by some absolute standard, and now you'll turn into a contrite little bundle of tears and regret as I lift your sins from you". Which... sort of is what happened, but not quite; I think the word was implying to me at the time that she was a capital-V Villain who needed to be forced out of her normal personality and made to see the error of her ways, rather than someone who fundamentally could have seen them anyway and just had a layer of confusion laid on top of that.

Basically, I got the feeling that what Mir needed was not to be subjected to litanies about why she was bad in order to make her contrite, but to have the part of her that would have naturally contradicted those things shine through. "Redemption" implies that something fundamental about her needed to be altered; we say things like "this program/project/piece of art can be redeemed if we just add this and this to change it, to shift it from its original intent". Mir's heart was already good; she didn't need to be changed. She just needed to be realigned with her original intentions. She was right (she wanted a peaceful world), she was just doing the wrong thing, and telling her she needed to be redeemed would have only got her hackles up and made her defensive, because she knew she didn't want anything bad, she was just having a hard time seeing her way to it.

Things Mir doesn't ever want to hear you say...

Old analysis is old (a couple of weeks old, as it happens), but posting it anyway, because I had it written up and the forgot about it...


Just listening to some clips of EnglishDub!Mir over here, and wow... while I generally dislike the dub of AT, and I know this particular part is almost certainly unintentional given how sheerly random the VAs seem to be with matching up their intonation to their intent... the part of this scene where Mir's saying "Don't worry. Everything will be fine." at 4:49 is just dripping with bitterness, to my ears, in a way that made me shiver. I'm just hearing such an undertone of "...yes. Everything will be fine, humans. Just like back when I was under your control and you always told me, 'Don't worry. Everything will be fine.' just before you put me through the next round of agony. So I hear you think suffering is just fine? Then I'm sure you'll like this."

I know I'm reading way too much into it, because frankly I just don't trust the dubbers to be that good (even if Mir's English VA did do some work on Silent Hill), but still, effectively cringe-inducing if you think of it like that.

(I'm now imagining her actually having a kneejerk reaction to the phrase if it's said to her by other people, in a "yes, that's what people always say when they want me to lie down and take it. Do you really think I'm going to fall for it again?" sort of way.)


Also, been poking through Mary Elizabeth McGlynn's works on YouTube; she's the English VA for Mir, and she's done a good deal of work for the Silent Hill series. I don't consider her voice to be very Mir-like; I personally think Ellen McLain, voice of GLaDOS in Portal, should have voiced her instead, though NISA probably couldn't afford to hire her, since they're a small outfit. I haven't actually played the game, but from the song Still Alive I can tell that she's got the right mix of childlike innocence and bitter sarcasm down, and if you listen to her in the verse beginning "Go ahead and leave me" in particular, she sounds a lot more like the Japanese Mir than McGlynn does.

Still, though, what I've noticed about McGlynn's works for Silent Hill is that they actually fit Mir very well, for the most part. I've personally fallen in love with "I Want Love" as a potential song from Mir to AT2's protagonist, depending on how I end up feeling about that pairing; it's exactly the kind of love song I think she'd offer, a desperate plea in recognition of the fact that nothing less than deep and genuine caring can stop her feeling like she can never be sated. "I need a miracle and that's what I'm hoping for" is basically Mir in a nutshell; she needs and wants something utterly transformatory, and she won't stop holding out for it. If a certain hero can fill that role for her, I'll be pleased, but they'll have to do it right.

"Let Me Out" and "Shot Down in Flames", on the other hand, are two rather creepy songs that I think fit Mir's time spent in captivity and her subsequent escape, respectively, very well. Going to do a little breakdown of the latter as I think it relates to her, because I can:

Swear at the walls
They make fun of me
Day after day
Eyes that follow me
Is it you again?
Can this be the end forever?

This first verse is fairly obvious; it's all about being trapped and being watched. The walls make fun of her because she can't escape; their existence mocks her, and she can't escape the eyes of the researchers with their cameras constantly trained on her. "Is it you again?": the same old faces, never offering her anything she needs. "Can this be the end forever?" makes me think of Mir's witnessing her old personality, her good-natured self, being smothered beneath her rage and wondering if this is really the end of the self she knew.

See through your eyes
Child's heart that cries
Raven flight, flies

Mir saying "look at this as a human being for once, not just as a scientist, and see how horrible it is". Plus bonus bird imagery!

And the meaning dies
As it was before
It will be no more
Time does that

Time is taking its toll on her; she's trying to hold out hope, to continue to be who she was, but it's becoming harder and harder to see the good in life as her anger consumes.

Say it again
Like you said
Does it sound like you?
Where are you now?

Mir saying to her captors, "have you ever listened to the words you say to me? Have you looked at yourselves in the mirror lately? Do you know what monsters you really are?"

Does the young one know you're here?
Breath on the glass
Once again
Feel her pull you in
Nobody leaves
You won't let you
You're afflicted

Like most of the song, this is all a bit disjointed and hard to parse, but I see it as Mir imagining her captors looking in at her through the glass and being unable to forget the cruelty they're witnessing, but being unable to leave the project because they're too afraid to admit their own guilt. Though, in my fanfic universe, a few people did leave the project early on or were fired from it, more people stayed than you'd expect; leaving would have forced them to confront the fact that they'd done something wrong, and that admission would have been too traumatic for most of them, so they buried the guilt further and further down under layers of scar tissue, becoming utterly callous and cold.

Can you hide who you are?
Take a look at yourself

Mir reiterating that those who hold her prisoner need to face up to themselves.

Can you stop what will be?
You think running will help?

This is one of those lines that I just think fits Mir's raging bitterness perfectly. It's the classic triumphant crowing of a villain as they prepare to destroy everything in their path. "You can't outrun me! You can't escape my wrath!"

Can't give up on the past
When the past never ends

Mir doesn't feel like she can escape the pain of her past, and now she's going to manifest that pain and bring it into the present for everyone else. The repercussions of the past never ended for her, so why should they for anyone else?

Now the dead that you raised
Live in me

They tried to kill her emotions, and now they've raised up the angry, twisted things they created and crushed down by continuing to provoke her.

What have you done?
You're insane
Can you bring God down?

Mir's commentary on the scientists "playing God" with her.

Plans that you made
Don't include me
One more time

Oh, their plans included her; but not as an equal, not as a person, only as a slave. Their plans never took into account what she wanted.

But I will dance
On the wind
Breathing in your heart

Mir is free, and she guarantees you'll never forget her. The images of the fragile, gentle creature you broke will continue to haunt you.

Your sacrifice
Wasn't wanted
Still you try

There's sort of a parallel here between Mir's own sacrifices (the energy and love she put into her songs) not being wanted, and the idea that all the energy the scientists have invested into controlling Mir is something she ultimately rejects.

Thy Fearful Symmetry -- Ar Tonelico fanfiction (Mir/OC, 1,400 words, mild aggression, mild intimacy)

I've been hanging onto this one for a while, but here's something from the AT Whistleblower universe, set two days after what is currently Chess' final log. I would have entered it as one of his logs along with the rest, but I thought it was a little too long and too elaborate to be a true blog entry, so I'm posting it as a standalone (though it probably won't make much sense if you haven't read at least his earlier logs).

Probably rates as about a PG-13, American standards? It's unsettling, but in a way that's all suggestion.


Oh, and before we break into the fic proper, a few musical sidenotes (this is Ar Tonelico fic, after all): the dialogue in this was heavily inspired by Want [lyrics|download], a rather villainous little spoken-word track by Recoil, though the song I've found myself associating most with their relationship is Break Me Shake Me [lyrics|download] by Savage Garden. ("I used to move you in a way that you've never known/But then I accused you in a way that you've never known/But you hurt me in a way that I've never known...").

Also, for those who've read Of One Blood, I got recommended a song that befits it wonderfully, Bound in Blood by Hungry Lucy. Lyrics here, and the song is here. It really does match what's going on from Mir's perspective in that fic incredibly well, so I heartily recommend you go listen.

And without further ado, fic time.




--November 14, 3420--

Sunset turns the blood in her eyes into thick, black oil, impenetrable. I search them for some glimmer of life, for some reminder that she's human, but of course, she's not. All I see is the reflected haze of the dying sun, drowning in her eyes like she's drinking it in, swallowing it up. Her gaze is a tractor beam because behind it, there's only a vacuum.

She used to be human, but we tore out her soul, and now she's sucking in life to fill the void, but she's never going to stop being hungry. And soon the world will be a small, dead, shrivelled thing in the palm of her hand, and she'll be alone in nothingness, crying and clinging to dust.

At least, that's what flashes through my mind, the primal part of my brainstem that I try to bury in rationality, when she fixes her eyes on me. I feel like a tiger's prey must feel, stripped of all emotions save wonder and fear; the inevitability of death grips me, and my pulse is sharp and icy in my throat, but I cannot help but marvel at the form, the sinews, the cruel and perfect grace of death's arbiter. Lean, like a starved animal, she's a human with all humanity burned away: all the excess, all the lies. She's less than animal. She is pure intent.

"I would always hear songs... about the stars," she says, and just like that day when I discovered the truth, her words catch me off guard. I'd been so wrapped in my imaginings, my dark-goddess fantasies, that coherent words from her were a surprise. They don't taint the image, though. They fall from her tongue like sour benedictions.

I look where she's looking, and true to her words, a few bright points of light are already visible. The strong ones, not swamped by evening glow.

"I never thought I'd see them. You have to remember... it was thirty years before I ever saw this world, this... real world, outside of corridors and empty cells." Her fingers rub the guard rail, a self-comforting gesture. I see this, and hear her high, frail voice, and I hear the words thirty years, and it doesn't quite fit together. "And when I did, I was so angry."

"Angry... why?" I'm surprised I dared to speak. My mouth tastes of evening dust, airship fuel.

She turns around, and my heart jumps: this is it. "Because it always sounded like humans felt such powerful hope when they looked at the stars, and nature, and all those things. And I couldn't see anything meaningful at all. They were dead to me." She pauses, feeling out her words with the tip of her tongue, letting the meaning sink in for both of us. "And I knew then that they'd taken something I could never get back."

I nod; a poor response. She says it all. There's nothing really left to add.

As such, she changes topic.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again."

I'm trying to make out the tone in her words. It's not relief, not curiosity... there's no fondness to it, no softer emotion. It's almost mocking, but there's something else behind it, some little undercurrent that worries at my veins like a knife-edge. Pure hate I can handle, but now I've lost sight of her intent.

She moves before I can track her, liquid shadow, and my wrists are in her hands. Tiny, thin hands, like a child's. My stomach churns in memory, and she feels me squirm, and she smiles at me, and that is almost fond. Oh, gods. She hates me so much she's almost infatuated with it. I've been waiting for death, but now instinct kicks in. Her hands are all clammy. Please, have mercy I don't deserve, and make this quick.

She leans her head against my shoulder, against my collarbone, hmming softly. An audible smile. "This feeling. This little flash of emotion, in you, now. Is it worth it?"

"Feeling?" My voice is a croak. I don't actually know what she means.

"You know what I mean." She jerks me closer. I wish she had a scent so I could get my bearings, wish she smelt like sweat or soap or ash. Everything feels unreal. "Your desires. Have they been worth the price you're paying, now? Worth my hatred, worth my anger, worth my using you up and throwing you out like you-- used-- me?"

Yes. No. I don't know? I don't have any desires! I just wanted to help... I'm so confused.

"I know you knew." From the sound of her voice I know her teeth are bared, her lips pulled back. There's a dull pain in my wrists, but it's eclipsed by the blood rushing in my ears. "I just wanted you to know that."

I watch as she drops me at all once, walks back to the railing and takes hold of it again with bloodied nails. I can tell now: she's restless, erratic, like a tiger in a cage. She doesn't seem to know what she's doing or what she's after. She's boiling over with heated emotions, and they're breaking the surface in tiny molten trickles. I wish the sun were a little higher so the image would be complete, evening's crimson making magma of her tears.

I don't know why I'm looking for poetry in this. I shouldn't be caring about how it looks, should be wanting to help her. But I don't really care, I think, about much any more. That's why I want something to move me. I'm looking for some symmetry in her anguish, like she's looking for hope in the stars.

Likely neither of us will get what we want tonight.

"Hold me."

I laugh, disbelieving, as I walk over to her. Only a goddess like her could threaten to tear out my throat one minute and want me to hold her the next. And only someone as dead inside as me could comply. I wrap my arms around her naked shoulders. She's shivering; her damp skin is drying in the wind.

"I thought you hated me," I say.

"I want to stop hating," she says. "But I can't."

"It's funny." As long as we're being honest, I suppose. As long as my life's on the line anyway. "I want to feel something, but... I don't think I can, either."

"I wish you could take all my burning." She wraps her fingers, tacky with my blood, around my arm.

"I wish I could know what it's like. I've forgotten."

She looks up at me. From all but this close it's easy to forget she's so small. "Maybe this will help you remember," she says, and plants a searing kiss on my lips. There's desperation to it, but it's not lustful. It feels more like she's trying to pour herself into me.

I think I smile as she pulls away, out of sheer incredulity. I don't really understand, but... all right. Whatever you want. "Maybe it will help you forget." Instinctively, I tangle my hand in her dark hair, stroking the back of her neck as I coax her closer to me.

"Unlikely," she says, sadly, but she closes her eyes anyway.



She clings to me, wrapped in my coat, as we lie out on the deck. I'm sure she knows how to acquire clothing, but her mind's too disorganised for her to follow the whole process through. She probably tried before, and ended up pacing up and down some alleyway somewhere, eating stolen fruit and looking for something to kill.

She's crazy. Crazy, and that makes me immoral, but we're already so broken it hardly matters any more. We've already torn each other to pieces. If we hurt each other a little more, it's not going to make that much difference.

Her eyes are glassy, reflecting the blue-black dome of the heavens, and all the little lights therein. Without warning, she presses closer to me, and her shoulders hitch.

"It's... really beautiful up there," she says, crying like she doesn't believe and like she knows it's true all at once.

I feel my heart wrench, and a cold agony balls in my stomach. No. It does matter. It matters so damn much.

We're still alive, and as long as we're alive, there's a chance that we can be saved.

One Byte And You're Hooked -- Ar Tonelico fanfiction (Lyner/Ayatane, 822 words, shounen-ai, parody/comedy, extreme crackishness)

The second of two fics for you today (the first one is here), and this one is a little... well. Suffice to say I did this on a dare. XD

Nothing explicit, but it's pretty suggestive (about as suggestive as AT itself). Spoiler-cut in case there are people who'd rather not read Lyner/Ayatane hintings. It's pretty much just meant to be silly.



"Lyner~!" called Ayatane as he walked into the living room, hair swept back in a headscarf and a baking tray held proudly aloft. "Come and see what I made!"

"What did you make?" Lyner rose up off the couch, one eyebrow warily cocked. The sight of Ayatane in an apron was never something that quite sat well with him, for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint but seemed to have to do with vague images of dyed pink poodles and those home decor shows they ran on the Platina Lifestyle Network.

"Cookies!" said Ayatane, his voice positively dripping with delight. "They're what I always make for Mother."

"For Mother... Mir?" said Lyner. "Ayatane, I don't think I've ever seen Mir eat anything. She certainly wouldn't be as thin as she is if she actually ate something with all those calories."

"Well, not for her for her," Ayatane said with a wave of his hand, balancing the cookie tray adeptly in the other. "For her as in... on her behalf."

On her... behalf? There was something in the tone of that statement that Lyner didn't like, but he didn't have time to protest as Ayatane slipped a morsel past his open lips. "Try it, it's really good," Ayatane gushed.

"Mmrgh mrmf mm mrlf." Lyner attempted to protest, but it was too late now; he wasn't very well going to spit it out, and besides, now that it was in there, he had to admit that the velvety smoothness of the chocolate against his lips was quite compelling. Half-resignedly, he swiped the cookie piece into his mouth with his tongue, chewed, and swallowed. "Hey, that is pretty good."

Ayatane plunked himself down on the couch, setting the tray on the coffee table and tugging Lyner down with him. "Have the rest." He handed the cookie to Lyner; it was warm and crumbly against his fingers, the chocolate just a little bit melty on the outside, the sweet aromas of baking mixed in with the fresh scent of Ayatane's hibiscus and peony shampoo. (At least, he assumed it was Ayatane's. It could have been Mir's, but only one of them struck him as the type to really care whether their shampoo was hibiscus-and-peony-scented, although he did have to admit that Mir was keeping a wonderful glossy head of hair these days now that she wasn't trying to nuke all of humanity.

"Oh, that," he heard Mir say dryly, as if she'd been reading his thoughts, which she had to have, as there was no other explanation, really. "Shurelia came over last night. Slumber party. We did each other's hair and talked about boys."

Lyner thought it better not to ask.)

That little aside dealt with, Lyner turned his attention back to the cookie (as eating and listening to someone talk at the same time would have been, he had to admit, a tricky task for him). The last wisps of chocolate still lingered on his lips from the previous bite, and he licked them off, his eyes falling half-closed in blissful reverie. "Ayatane, this stuff's really amazing. I don't even really like chocolate, but this... it's even better than Funbuns." And that was saying something, given the many long, dark nights he'd spent thinking about eating Funbuns, preferably with Misha.

And was there something else behind the taste of cocoa, something darker, more bitter-- more, dare he think it, manly? Something different from the rich sweetness of Funbuns, but appealing in its own way; it lingered on his senses, taunting. He just had to know for sure. There was no resisting it. He took another bite, this time with unabashed desire.

"It's coffee," said Ayatane, as if he'd been reading his thoughts, which he almost certainly had as well. "Java chips, to be precise." That or he was just gauging the expressions on Lyner's face, but right now Lyner didn't care if Ayatane was in his head. The feel of sweet, chewy dough that melted against his tongue, the heady scents of chocolate and coffee mingling in his nose and throat-- he could indulge in this forever, and the more he did so the more it really did feel like there was some other presence inside his mind, and the less he really minded. In fact, it was starting to feel distinctly pleasurable. Ayatane, inside him, sating his hunger, filling him up completely....

It was a while before Lyner came to his senses enough to notice Ayatane gazing at him intently. "How do you like it?" the virus purred sweetly. "Is it good?"

"Oh, yes," breathed Lyner.

"Do you want more?"

"Please, Ayatane. Please, let's not stop."

And so Ayatane "fed Lyner cookies", all night long. Oh, and he might have "set up a connection to his server" and "pinged him with data packets", too. Honestly, we're really not in a position to say.

But only because we won't get any more cookies if we do.

A Series of Fortunate Events -- Ar Tonelico fanfiction (Mir, OC Reyvateils, 1,560 words, AU, warning for extreme sappy cuteness)

Fluffy happy fanfic with Mir and a couple of OC Reyvateils. Yes, Leish is actually a male Reyvateil; he was born female and was physically altered to appear male, to match his own feelings about himself. Few people know he's a Reyvateil, though. In any case, they're properly members of the Church of Elemia, not Platina researchers; I'm just appropriating them here for a completely AU story.



"...You're not actually eating that, are you?"

"Hm?" Vianchiel looked up from the pastry she'd been prodding mercilessly with her fork, now reduced to a mess of flaky jam-smeared scraps. "No, not really." She waved a hand in the direction of the once-dessert, and watched her coworker steal a forkful. "I don't know. It feels wrong somehow to be just... taking lunch in the cafeteria, chatting, joking, like this were any other day. There should be some sort of an... I don't know, celebration or something. We should be marking this occasion."

"With something better than pastries?" Leish said through the crumbs. "But yeah, I see that. Probably shouldn't celebrate until she comes out, though. Chickens, counting 'em, all that."

"Yeah. And she's more precious than a chicken, too-- not that chickens aren't important, or anything. I'm guessing taking her out anywhere isn't going to be an option. I mean, she's going to be so... new." Her voice held an element of wonder. "On her first day, it'd be too much."

Leish hmmed noncommitally.

"I guess we could have a room party," Vianchiel added.

"I guess. Though we'd probably have to cut the snacks. Lamarre'll kill us if we interfere with her optimal nutritional balance." His tone placed quotes around the last three words, and he grinned a little.

"...Does that mean she can never have chocolate?" She pouted a bit. "Because that would just be sad."

"Heh. Probably no chocolate for her, no."

"So unfair." Vianchiel shook her head in mock indignation. "I really hope we're going to get to celebrate. It's like, aah, what if something goes wrong? It's such a delicate situation... I mean, we're creating life, from scratch, ourselves, and if just one little thing... just, it would be terrible if something got messed up, you know? We can't just... I mean, it's not like a miscarriage, even, where the baby never really had a chance to be a full person... she's already a person, she's just not awake yet."

"It's not like she's the first Beta," said Leish. "I've never heard of anything going wrong with any of the others. The whole system's stacked with failsafes to keep that sort of thing from happening."

"I guess." A protracted pause. "...I just want to go let her out right now. I want to give her a hug, just... welcome her to this world."

Leish smiled. "I don't think any of us can wait to see her."


***

Vianchiel rubbed a hand longingly over the smooth capsule, as if she could somehow reach through to the lifeform within. "Time to wake up, baby girl," she said to her mirror image, the metal misting up with the heat of her breath.

It must be so cold in there. She glanced over at the cot they'd set up for the newborn Reyvateil. At least we have blankets. The temp in here's tolerable for a clothed adult, just about. I guess she really is just like a baby... she's so going to freak out when the air first hits her. She wadded up the blankets from the cot and set them on a table by the capsule, then, with a shaky exhale, plunked herself down at the computer terminal.

Her fingers worked quickly over the keyboard, entering activation codes committed to memory. A confirmation box, yellow and ominous, sprang into life with a static snap, brightly-glowing photons overriding pixels that had been dark for days. Vianchiel winced as she confirmed the dialog, her heart tearing at her throat. The countdown would give her time to ensure she really wanted to commit-- a safeguard against its being activated too early, and Vianchiel had nightmare flashes of a half-formed monster, crying piteously, stumbling out in a wash of primordial goo-- but, at this late stage, that fact only heightened her anxiety. She didn't need to wait any longer. Everything was ready. All that remained was the final boot sequence, and an agonising few minutes of praying the creation had been a success.

A... R... T... E.... A voice echoed the glowing letters in artificial tones, a novel way of counting down from ten. She managed a tiny smile at that, but the new dialog that winked into the centre of the screen made the smile die on her lips. WARNING: Last chance to deactivate creation process. Hit any key to abort. Oh, what if someone were to come running in right now and nudge her, just a little? What if her own fingers, poised to confirm the next dialog, were to slip? --she pulled her hands back instinctively. But in a few moments the dialogue faded out, replaced by a new, equally intimidating yet at the same time oddly relieving box. Countdown complete. Finalising instruction set; irreversible phase entered. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SHUT DOWN THE SYSTEM.

Vianchiel glanced at the faceless metal tube. I wish I could see you. I wish I could know how you're doing.

Her heart leapt painfully at the spinning up of machinery, the hum-whirr of power juicing the systems.

Are your eyes open in there? What do you look like?

Then a clear voice cut the air, distorted by the tinny structure to the point of sounding as digitised as the rest, yet unmistakeably emanating from inside the capsule. It wasn't really her voice, just a translation of her thoughts through the machines that monitored her mind, but from the little quirks and quavers in it she could almost imagine how she'd sound when she spoke for real.

"BIOS reboot. System reboot."

System reboot? Was that supposed to happen? She snatched a sheaf of notes off the table, leafing through with trembling hands. No... that was normal. She remembered now being briefed on the initialisation procedure. Her memory was just shot from stress.

"ID program... registration." The hum in the room grew louder, the symphonic power lines feeding into the capsule purring into life. She's connecting with the Tower... amazing. This whole building surrounding us... the walls, the ceiling... right now, they echo with her name.

"Artificial intelligence boot...." And that was when Vianchiel really started to shake, gripping the notes in a clammy fist. She's waking up. She's really waking up....

"Consciousness awakening...." She's alive. Everything's going to be okay. ...she's conscious. Oh gods. What if she knows we're here? What do I say?

"Network install confirmation...." We made this. We did this. We took life, the gift of the gods, in our hands and reverse-engineered it.

"Completion...." We made life. We made life. We've never done anything so amazing since we first made fire; this is greater yet. She's really, truly alive....

"My name is... Mir...."

The door to the capsule hissed open, and Vianchiel didn't have time to take her in before she found herself rushing forward, spilling over herself in her haste to get her out from under all that entrapment. The restraints slid back of their own accord, but the huge, heavy mask, a black squidlike thing almost sealed to the poor girl's face, had to be lifted up off her head and pushed back into a storage chute behind her.

The eyes that blinked back at Vianchiel were deep red, accentuated by the blotchy rings on her skin where the mask had peeled away. The researcher almost startled at that, but such depths of sincerity welled in those eyes that she couldn't help but find them fond, even with the odd colouration. Her damp black hair looked in need of a brush, and her skin was similarly clammy. Her arms now free, she drew them around herself, shivering, eyes curious and wide.

"Oh--" In all her flusterment, she'd forgotten Mir would need warmth. She grabbed up the blankets and, gently guiding the pale, wet Reyvateil down to the ground with one hand, gathered her up in them as soon as there was room, dabbing the chill moisture from her face with the corner of one. Mir's gaze continued to search her; she struggled to vocalise on her own, her throat working visibly, but all she managed was a muted croak, and tears of panic began to well in her eyes. She groped and lurched back in the direction of her capsule.

"It's all right. It's all right." Vianchiel restrained the bundled Reyvateil, hugging her tightly. "It's okay. It's just the outside. I know it's cold and you can't speak and that doesn't feel nice, but you're going to be fine." Leading her over to the cot, she coaxed Mir to sit up on it, which she did, without sound or protest, once she figured out how.

Vianchiel stepped back to really look at her, but there wasn't much to look at. Mir's head poked out of a swaddle of blankets, only visible from the nose up. She couldn't help but crack a giggle at the Reyvateil-cocoon and the ever-so-serious expression that peered out from it. That aside, what she could see of her was quite beautiful, in an almost unearthly sort of way.

Mir tried again for sound, managing a grating "hwaaa" that sounded a bit like a noisy bird. She startled at her own voice, the roughness of it evidently strange to her, and afterwards looked positively mortified.

Vianchiel hmmed and moved in the direction of the fridge. "I know just what you need. Something to soothe your throat."

Mir scrutinised her intently as she removed a small glass jar of chocolate spread. Vianchiel grinned with delight. "Just a taste can't hurt."

alternatively, "the heart speaks"

Small bit of news from the tech development front: a system called "Kokoro Gatari", meaning "Mind Talk", has been developed that allows paralysed users to communicate by, among other things, singing a song in their minds. The combination of technology, communication and mental singing would be amusing enough to AT fans alone... but "Kokoro Gatari" is also the name of a song in Ar Tonelico 2.

Coincidence? ;)

(Incidentally, for those who know, since that's a Noriko Mitose song, is it by the character I want to think it's by? No further spoilers in the comments, please, but I'd love to know. From the translation, it sounds fairly fitting for her character.)