Checking In [Geno / OPEN]

[theron]

[/i][/b][/ul]


All kinds of people came and went from the large downtown apartment complex, easily one of the most popular and visible housing options in Death City for those with a modest income.

Of course, not many of them wore capes.

Or carried a sword.

Or flashed a Shibusen student ID at the front desk before "requesting" to know what a certain occupant had been doing in the week since the student's prior visit.

"I have it all for you right here." The desk man said, placing a sheet of paper and a DVD on the desk. The page was a brief summary which basically said that one Mr. Geno Garon, occupant of apartment number 412, had been doing his usual -- out and about occasionally during the day, always back by nightfall, with no unusual occurrences to observe in-between. The DVD had security camera footage from the main lobby and the hallway outside apartment 412; despite his wishes to do otherwise the landlord -- and Shibusen -- had not allowed Theron to put listening devices or hidden cameras into Geno's apartment, so regular surveillance would have to do. Theron perused the paper without real interest, then put it aside and pocketed the DVD for later review.

"No sign of visitors? Nothing out of the ordinary?"

Murry, the desk clerk on duty, groaned. He was becoming good and truly annoyed by Theron's ongoing personal inquisition against mister Garon, even if it was Shibusen business. "No, nothing unusual at all. The man couldn't be more ordinary if he tried -- and believe you me, 'ordinary' is quite distinctive in this town, easy to recognize."

Theron didn't seem to be interested in debating with a mere clerk, turning instead towards the main staircase at the far end of the lobby. Murry watched him go mutely, wondering to himself that the boy didn't use the elevator. After all, nobody in the WORLD confronted more steps on a daily basis than Shibusen students. Maybe it was a training regiment? Or maybe cape boy just didn't like small confined spaces?

----------------------------------------

A short, crisp staccato of a knock on the door of number 412 was what announced Theron's arrival. Whether Geno was home or not was a question that registered only dimly in the young d'Metreon's mind, connected as it was to the question of whether to use the spare key he'd been issued to snoop the apartment in the event that the occupant was out and about. It was a tempting prospect -- though it could get him into trouble potentially, Theron's conviction that the amnesiac was wrapped up in shadowy dealings was strong enough that any evidence he could find would outweigh the potential risks.

And if Geno was in, then perhaps they'd just have a nice little chat instead...

[Geno Garon]

Unfortunately for Theron, Geno was not in. Truth be told, he had not been "in" all morning. After his rather tumultuous dream (wherein he had succinctly enacted a musical production of a popular Styx song), the young man had been unable to sleep. He had rummaged about in his apartment in the early morning hours, unable to return to rest, trying to find something to do. His cellphone, the one granted him by Artemis in the sealed envelope, was not sufficiently advanced for anything besides calls and text messages, and having no one to contact, it might as well have been a small brick in Geno's pocket for all the good it did him. His fridge was nearly empty, his apartment devoid of most of the essential furnishings worth any entertainment value, and he had no other materials to occupy his attention.

It was 5am, and he had been well and truly bored.

And so, at the crisp hour of 6 am, dew still clinging to windowpanes and the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, Geno had set out to gather whatever he could find to make his apartment seem more, and be more, inviting. His first stroke of luck was stumbling across a 24-hour pawnbroker shop. Upon entering, Geno saw a person who was either the night clerk, weary from hours of dull, depressing boredom, or the early morning clerk, still groggy from what was no doubt a 4am wake-up. Geno had the forethought to bring with him his duffel bag, containing his diary (should he need to record something), his Glock pistol (recently recovered from Onsdag the Wanderer, who had evidently pinched it during or directly after his interrogation), and his exceptionally large pile of Las Vegas poker chips. They were earmarked from at least half of the swankiest casinos on the strip, and when the clerk was presented them with the question of value, her eyes instantly lit up.

Geno took the moment of expression to examine the counter-jockey. She was somewhat short, with hair blacker than black tied into two pigtails, one on either side of her head. Her face was lightly made-up, but with dark red lipstick that made her pale white face seem even whiter. Instead of dark shadows under her eyes, as Geno had first thought, he discerned she was instead simply wearing dark eyeshadow. Belts and more belts adorned her black hemp vest and dark red cargo pants. Geno nodded mentally to himself. Night clerk.

"Oh, yea, WOW, I can totally get those cashed in for you. The guy who runs this place 'knows a guy'...", the cashier said with a wink. Geno was taken aback. When he had first walked in, she had seemed the sour sort, but she now seemed to have a much more bubbly personality under all that... dark... clothing.

Geno thanked her, and went about selecting a few pawned electronics and furniture pieces. The place had a relatively large selection, and Geno was able to find just about everything he wanted or could find a use for, including a full size sofa in fairly good condition. Geno even smelled it, and it didn't smell like smoke. Then he doubled back and wondered if he really cared... or even if he smoked... he didn't think so, and he didn't feel like smoking, but... such uncertainty made it difficult for him to come to certain decision.

The clerk rang up his total, and he handed over an approximately equal amount in poker chips. After getting his change, he paused.

"Hey... uhm, what was your name?" Geno asked. He had started out confident, but almost instantly lost his composure. This girl was off-putting, he wasn't quite sure how to handle her.

"Call me Gabby,", she said surely.

"Gabby, uhh... is there a way I can get this stuff up to an apartment near here? I don't think I can manage it myself..." and before Geno had even finished, Gabby had whipped out a clip board and was jotting down notes. She asked for his residence and apartment number, which he gave, and just as quickly she slid the clipboard back under the counter.

"OKAY!"

"...okay?"

"OH, right. I've got you down for item delivery; you got enough that it's no extra charge, and they should be dropping the stuff off a little later today," she finished with another wink. "Just make sure to tip Gus though. He tends to get all grumpy-faced when people don't appreciate all the hard work he does," she said in a cutesy, mocking tone.

Geno nodded, making a note to himself to tip Gus generously. He thanked Gabby, then went out the same way he came in, not noticing the pouty-face Gabby was making as he left.

For the rest of the morning, Geno had been wandering the shopping district, discretely inquiring about employment opportunities. Unfortunately, whenever any prospective employer asked with any seriousness about prior work experience, or handed him a resume, Geno never had sufficient information even to get past the first few questions. Employers, evidently, do not like when their questions get answered with "I don't know."

It was at this point, however, that, as Geno was wandering the farmers' market gathering produce for his empty fridge, that he had run across Rei, the curious foxgirl that he managed to scuttle away from that one irate fruit-seller. After taking her out to lunch, Geno was returning to his apartment, hopefully to arrive before "Grumpy Gus" came with his newly-acquired things. Instead, in a moment of distraction, he walked down the hallway towards his door and came within 5 feet of Theron, knocking at his chamber door. Their eyes met, and a raven could not have had a more piercing glare.

ohshi...

[theron]

'Speak of the devil...' Theron mused quietly as Geno came down the hallway, seeming not to notice him until they were quite literally standing within striking distance of each other. The young d'Metreon raised an eyebrow; seeing the older man thus distracted put to his mind all kinds of conspiratorial notions. Affecting a (clearly forced) smile and turning to face the amnesiac, Theron nodded briefly before speaking.

"Mister Garon... and how are you today? I'm just here to check up on you, oh, and I have a request for you from one of the Shibusen instructors. Seems someone's eager to get to the bottom of your story..." He let that simmer with a slight undercurrent of menace, just to see how Geno would react.

[Geno Garon]

...The bottom of my story. Heh, wouldn't that be nice... Geno mused. He'd been trying to get the whole story on, well, his story, ever since he found himself at Death City in the first place. Waking up in a car crash, being interrogated by senior Shibusen staff, being bit by a vampire girl who then told him his past was mired in fog and mystery and conflict. Geno had hoped that he would at some point 'awaken' from his mired and muddled mind and make sense of the myriad metaphors, but it had yet to happen, if it would at all. Geno re-focused. The European boy with the sword was eying him incredulously, as if to inspect him for any signs of... something. Geno had yet to divine why exactly this young man had taken such a vivid interest in him, and why his attention was always so... critical.

"Master D'Metreon, always so good to see you," Geno chimed, hoping his false pleasantries and eclectic tone would irk the youth evermore. It had become a game, these last few "check-ins", to taunt each other under the table and see which one would blow it first. Or, at least, that is how Geno interpreted things.

"A request from one of the Shibusen instructors, you say? Well, on any other day I'd be happy to have you escort me to my next interrogation session, but I'm expecting quite a few deliveries to be arriving shortly, so you'll excuse me if I decline your offer for now." Geno turned, pretending to dismiss Theron, and began unlocking his door. It was only now that Rei, the small foxgirl, came into Theron's view. Theron had seemed ready to retort, but the small, white-haired head that had popped out from the side of Geno's trench coat seemed to throw him off entirely. Geno just cracked open his door, when...

[theron]

Theron simply stared at the odd creature that had suddenly appeared, gaze passing from the furry little face up to the man and then back again. An almost uncomfortable lapse of time passed in silence; Theron waited with calculated timing until Geno was already in his apartment and about to close the door before inquiring:

"Made a new friend, mister Garon?"

While not the perfect excuse, it would do; Theron stepped in behind Geno and positioned himself as a human doorstop, keeping the passage open. "I'm not sure the landlord allows pets... and whatever you have there seems quite unusual. I hope you won't mind if I--"

"I'm sure that won't be necessary Theron."

The young d'Metreon seemed taken aback, then looked out into the hall with a knowing and distinctly displeased look. Walking down the corridor towards them was an older man with a very distinct set of gold-hued headphones and goggles on his head -- Prof. Davian Boyle. He'd almost been shouting -- had to, since he was so far down the hall still -- but with those high-tech gadgets he'd probably heard every word that had transpired. Behind Boyle came a gaggle of moving men, all boxes and furniture in their hands. Theron's eyes narrowed in mild annoyance; ever since he'd met the suave professor the man had an uncanny habit of getting in the way of things. Like now.

Approaching the apartment, Davian gave a cordial smile, first to Theron and then Geno. "I happened across these gentlemen on my way in and led them up. Seems the school's guest is getting settled in today." Stepping aside to allow the movers through, Davian held his hand out for Geno. "Prof. Davian Boyle of Shibusen; pleasure to meet you mister Garon. I sent Theron ahead to tell you I'd be stopping by, though perhaps sooner than I led him to believe; figured we could combine visits so as not to disturb you more frequently than necessary. Now then, I hear you have something of an amnesia problem...?"

[Geno Garon]

Geno shook the good Professor's hand, then extended his arm through the now open door to welcome his new guests inside. Rei took not a second glance as she scampered inside, careful to avoid the piercing glare of Theron as much as she could. Instinctually she found the door to the bedroom, went inside, and "accidentally" knocked it closed. Geno sighed; she was probably not happy about so many new faces. Oh well, he though. He had much more pressing matters to attend to; the moving crew, led by an ogre of a man who could only be "Gus", were hustling in several pieces of furniture already, and Professor Boyle and Theron... well, they needed to be entertained. Geno walked into his "living room" and sat down on a sofa placed not four seconds before by two of the hired hands. A coffee table was brought in, followed swiftly by a loveseat and an armchair, all of which was arranged in the center of the room with lightenin precision and elegant finesse. And, just like that, the movers shuffled out of the room to go fetch the next set. Theron and Davian took the love seat and the armchair respectively, the whole scene having been assembled as they moved to take their seats, as if Geno's apartment was some small stage performance being put together on the spot just before the curtain retreats.

"To answer your question, Professor, without getting all cute and saying 'I don't remember'... I litereally DON'T remember anything before slamming my car into a wall outside Death City," Geno began. The movers, at that moment, returned, and Gus was carrying a refridgerator. By himself. He lumbered off to the kitchenette, followed closely by an oven holding down two young men, and a microwave, toaster, and egg beater being juggled by a third.

"Now, I have had a few days to contemplate everything that has happened to me, and any evidences that I can piece together regarding my identity. Were it not for a duffel bag with a name on it, I wouldn't even know what to call myself. Even that is guesswork on my part..." Geno trailed off.

"I don't even know who I really am..."

[davian]

Theron followed Davian into the apartment with a mildly put-off expression, not bothering for once to hide his discontent. Prof. Boyle, for his part, seemed chipper and outgoing, every inch the grateful house guest. As they took their seats Davian listened attentively to Geno's commentary.

"I've heard much the same from Spirit, mister Garon. There are a good many strange and curious things in Death City... but you, if you don't mind my saying so, hold a particular fascination for someone in my field of study."

Theron shot the professor a curious look, wondering just what exactly he was planning to subject Geno to "in the name of science", but Davian didn't miss a beat. "I work chiefly in experimental soul technologies. Did you know that while the brain is the processing, compiling, and executing functionary of the human body, the soul is the chief conceptualizer and initiator? In layman's terms, the brain is the 'road' the soul travels to get where its going, do what it decides upon. It's a bit more complex than such a short explanation would suggest, granted... but my point is, mister Garon..."

"I have a theory." Possibly the four most fateful words in professional science... and what came next should have sent a small shiver up Geno's spine. "I believe that the brain is not the only place where memories are stored -- that the soul, too, has a memory."

"So you want to experiment on him." Theron half-muttered, scoffing to himself at the "surprise" that hadn't really been much of a surprise.

Davian shot Theron a look before turning his eyes back to Geno, leaning forward and continuing. "Dream therapy. I have a machine in my lab that reflects a person's own soul wavelength back to them while they sleep, creating a state of passive self-resonance. The goal -- the theory, rather -- is to keep the soul 'awake' while the body sleeps, allowing your psychic self-concept to wander your psychological landscape freely in something tantamount to a lucid dream. I've used it myself; it's quite the experience."

Davian's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were suddenly looking through Geno instead of at him. "Mister Garon... like many of those working at Shibusen I have the ability to 'sense' souls, with some detail, I might add, but yours..." He leaned back, seeming to search for the right word. "It's... blurry. Try as I might, it's like there's a fog there that I can't get my soul perception around. Whoever you were and whatever happened to you before you arrived here is still very much a mystery even to those like myself with a sixth sense. Normally I can get an impression of a person's awareness, emotional state, and sense of self when I'm this close to them; whatever has happened to your soul it's like nothing I've seen before. It could be anything, from a newly discovered spiritual self-defense mechanism to the seeds of mankind's next great step forward..."

"...But we won't know anything unless we explore it. Are you interested?"

[Geno Garon]

The concept intrigued Geno greatly. The ability to see into one's own dreams, to the psyche within the psyche... a burning itch in his core told him this was part of the answer. But... Geno didn't want to rush in, so instead, he took stok of the whole situation.

This professor, "Davian Boyle", had claimed he was able to see into his soul. Taking this at face value, and remembering that Nova had mentioned something abut this, Geno suspected that a Professor at Shibusen would be quite adept at this form of... vision, sorcery, phycic power... Geno wasn't sure exactly what to label it. Anyway, this insight the Professor had would likely be quite powerful, and yet his soul had proven to be too much for Mr. Boyle's abilities. Whatever was causing the diruption in his soul might just account for Geno's inability to reference the memories that make him, him. He had not forgotten how to do things, as he had learned fiddling with his 9mm Glock over the past few days. He had merely forgotten how he knew, or what his likes and dislikes were. Things that provided insight into Geno's personality or history could only be inferred at best, and if Professor Boyle was correct, Geno's 'blurry' soul could be the key.

On top of all that, Theron seemed thoroughly displeased with the idea. That only served to encourage Geno to...

"Very well, Professor. I'd like to give this dream therapy of yours a try. But before I do, I think there's something you should know. It might be important..."

Geno proceeded to relay to Davian, and by happenstance of his proximity, Theron, about the dream he had experienced during his nervous breakdown. The mountainous expanse behind a valley of golden wheat. The form of his 'caretaker' Artemis, instructing him on preparing for a 'journey'. the dark, threatening storm clouds. The story took several minutes, during which time Geno recounted everything in exacting detail. He had recalled the vision vividly the day after it had occurred, and had purpoused himself not to forget a single detail. Ensuring that he could recite the details by heart gave him some comfort that his memory of current events was untarnished by whatever was preventing him from knowing his past.

After the story, geno breathed a sigh of relief. "So, Professor. What say you to that?"

[davian]

After listening attentively to Geno's retelling Davian leaned back in his seat and let out a short impressed-sounding whistle. "Well well well..."

"I've read a lot about lucid dreams and the like over the years -- the trances of eastern mystics and monks, the 'spirit walks' of Native Americans, that sort of thing -- and I have to say that's one of the most vivid recountings I've ever come across. The assorted symbolism -- storm clouds, mountains -- all fit with classical archetypes," He leaned forward now, fingers interlaced and chin resting upon them. "... but this Artemis person, now that's different. Generally when a personality manifests in a dream they're 'minor actors' at most, doing and being but not frequently speaking... and definitely not speaking as if they are aware of the dream in its full context. This could be a fragment of your conscious psyche that got buried somehow due to your amnesia, or..." He sighed and waved his hand dismissively with an apologetic smile. "Ah, forgive me. Far too early to start spouting off theories. Maybe with some more data we can narrow down the nature of this strangely knowledgeable Artemis persona. In the meantime,"

He stood, extending his hand. "My thanks for this time to talk. You've given me a lot to think about, mister Garon. If you want to schedule an appointment to meet at my lab and give dream resonance a try just give me a call." He pulled a business card out of his pocket and laid it gently down on the table, then gave Theron a knowing look. "Well then, we should let the good man get himself settled, shouldn't we?"

"... I suppose." He cast a glance Geno's way. "I'll be keeping tabs on you, mister Garon. Expect me to be back later."