Progress

*Audio feed begins
Celia sounds a little out of breath, but her tone is upbeat and positive*

Ah, now that was a good run.
I've just taken Milo on one of my more demanding routes, the one that goes from top to bottom of the station. He kept up very well and I'm impressed; that run can be difficult, especially if you're not used to exercise.

*draws in air through her nose and out through her mouth deeply, regulating herself back to normal breathing*

But even more so impressive... Milo can help me with my memory. I told him about the trouble I've been having with day-to-day forgetfulness and the the more deeper concern I have for not being able to remember my childhood. I asked him about implant technology... I know he's used a suppression implant before and that got me thinking - surely an implant can be made to do the reverse and actively stimulate memories that have already been suppressed?

*Coughs heavily, followed a very un-ladylike rumble from the back of her throat and a spit*

Ugh... running dislodges some nasty shit...
Yeah, so Milo said he'd be able to put one together with relative ease, he just needed the parts. Now fortunately, I may be able to help with that... I'm pretty sure I have a capsuleer's body on ice in my storage hangar. Think I picked it up by accident when looting a wreck once. Any implants would obviously be inactive now, but Milo might be able to make use of the reclaimed parts.

*A console chimes out a sequence of key-presses, followed by a soft voice acknowledging the call. Celia converses briefly with her Quartermaster*

Bring Item...340091 out of storage and have it sent to my hangar study.
Yes, I know what it is.
Well, use your discretion, idiot! Put a fucking cloth over it!

*The console emits a final chime as the the channel is cut. Celia resumes her monologue in a pleasant tone*

Milo seemed a little cautious at the whole idea of delving into the past. I totally understand his concerns, but I've got to do this. It's like the desire I had to open my emotions; I knew it would be dangerous, but I had to learn out of necessity to keep sane. Hmm, maybe his caution is masking his own fear of his own past... I wonder.

*Console chimes again and jazz begins to play in the background. Celia hums along absently for a few moments*

Now I still have to find me a hacker for those locked files on my parents. Why would CONCORD put a restricted access on them? What interest would CONCORD have in a couple from an impoverished slum on Pator? Have they cross-referenced with Federal records and found that their daughter is a suspect for two murders and is now an outlawed capsuleer?

Hmm. Most likely. Still, considering the talent I keep company with in PRETA, finding an experienced hacker should not be a problem. I'll make enquiries at the 'Hook. It may not be the best place for dinner, but for everything else...

*The music continues to play; after a few moments Celia resumes humming along, occasionally singing out the odd line.
After several minutes, it is apparent she has forgotten that the dictaphone is still recording. An hour of humming, singing, a running shower and the whir of a hairdryer is recorded as Celia goes about her evening in her apartment.*

Shit, is this still recording? I swear, I'll forget to load the fucking autocannons one of these days...

*Audio feed ends*

Black Water

*Audio feed begins*

I've just returned from the MedBay after updating my clone. Despite this body being disposable, I've kept it safe from deep-freezing in the void for several months now I'm proud to say. I insisted upon a full medical examination; I thought it best to make sure everything is working as intended.

*The faint sound of music can now be heard; the swing beat and meandering harmophone solos of Gallentean jazz provide a gentle background noise as Celia continues*

Well, I first told the doctor what I know that he should know; I'm an alcoholic and a booster abuser. At this, he looked understandably concerned, but once my physical exam was done he seemed quite surprised. Apparently, my fitness regime has compounded the worst physical effects of abuse and indeed I am still well above the average fitness for a twenty-five year old female capsuleer.

However, neural scans picked up something else that concerned him and confirmed what I had feared for a while; my memory's deteriorating. I've noticed it getting worse lately. I even forgot my gun - my fucking gun! - leaving the 'Hook last week. But I've never been too good with memories; never saw the point of holding onto them, most of my life experience being rather unpleasant. The only memories I willingly keep are those that have taught me something. Neccessity demands it.

Of course, the doctor attributed it all to the sustance abuse and recommended I go into rehab and seek psychiatric help... Hah!

*laughs contemptuously*

...But I know it's a little more than just that and I don't need a shrink to tell me. The drink, drugs and emotional isolation have been my first defence for years now.

*Celia's tone becomes more serious*

So what do I have to defend myself from? My life is good right now... isn't it? I have wealth, a position of respect, good companions... I've even learned to recognise my emotions and enjoy them for what they are... and yet there's still something holding me back. Something that goes much deeper than just a penchant for brandy and boosters. Something I need to address before I literally lose my mind.

*A long pause, broken only by the wailing harmophone on the jazz track*
I don't remember anything of my childhood. Nothing. It's like... a span of black water; impenetrable, cold, deep. My first memory I can recall is... the day I was signed into the RMS, I was... ten?

*a datapad chimes, sounding strangely in-keeping with the almost random notes of the music*
 Yeah, according to official records it was year ninety-six; I was indeed only ten. Nothing much on the records before that though, apart from my place of birth. Medical Facility Theta, North Reach Mining Outpost, Pator. Born to Matila and Habikuk Katan.

My parent's names. They have never been anything more; just names. I cannot remember them at all.

*Sighs*

Did they send me against my will to RMS? Is that what I've been trying so hard to block out? That kind of betrayal would explain a lot about how I've grown up, why I walled up my emotions for long, why I've never bothered to give them a second thought...

*The datapad chimes out again; the timing of the key-tones follows the music uncannily*
Hmm, that's interesting... Matila and Habikuk's files have been locked by CONCORD... I can't access them any further.

Bah, I need facts. I need my own memories rekindled for a start. And I'm going to need greater security access, or a hacker, if I want to find out more on these two.

*The background music fades out, to replaced by the familiar theme tune of an ACN bulletin. During the last headline of the bulletin, the volume is suddenly turned up.*


What the fuck?!


*Audio feed ends with an abrupt click*

Brisk Thoughts

*Audio feed begins.
Boots on a steel floor can be heard at a quick pace*

How many times did I try telling him? The woman is fucking dangerous and unhinged... I don't fear much in this world... but I fear her.

Still, he did the smart thing and left without fuss. I hope his rehab goes ok. Must remember I told him I'd visit.

Oh yeah, reminder to call Milo some time in the week. Man's a genius. Need to run some ideas past him. Arrange a run round the station too. And oversee a maintenance on the Delilah. And... I'm sure there was something else...

*the ringing echo of footsteps continues for a while before a click.
Audio feed ends*

Lessons One and Two

*Video feed begins.
Celia is sat in her usual seat at her desk. She wears an elegant dress made of black mesh that shimmers in the orange light of the table-lamp. She runs her hands through her hair, ruffling her sleek tresses and drawing her fingers down across her face with a deep sigh.
Looking to a point behind the camera, she takes out a tissue from a drawer and begins to remove her eye make-up.*

I've learned two valuable lessons tonight. One; The Skyhook is not the best place to go for a quiet dinner. Two; Embracing emotion might not be the best idea.

*throws the tissue down and pours herself a drink from a decanter. She takes a large sip before continuing*

I met Milo for dinner this evening. On the whole, it was an enjoyable experience; we chatted for a while, keeping the subjects light and had soup. I can't remember what it tasted like, everything tastes the same to me these days, but Milo appeared to enjoy it.

*finds a fresh tissue and takes it around her mouth, removing her lipstick*

He sometimes gets nervous around me; Given what I've told him of myself, maybe that's to be expected. But I'm hardly intimidating... am I?

*Leans forward to look closely at the mirror behind the camera, tilting her head left to right; with her hair ruffled and face devoid of dark make-up she has a more natural, gentle look*

Hmm. And he is always so humble; the man has great skills, but continually plays them down. He also seems evasive sometimes and it's difficult to judge what he's thinking. Not that this bothers me too much, I'm not one to pry and certainly not one to go chasing people. I tell him things about myself 'cause it makes me feel better. If he wants to do the same, I try to listen and take interest.

*shrugs, leaning back in her seat and taking another drink. She smiles contently*

So we whiled a couple of hours away like that, chatting and enjoying each other's company. I was just starting to feel the warm buzz of happiness and too much brandy when...

*throws her hands into the air in exasperation, frowning*

...Vincent, Kimochi and Kelsy cause a scene, making my date very nervous and ruining the whole evening! How fucking inconsiderate!

*snatches a cigarette from her drawer and lights it, clearly annoyed*

So, from what I saw, Vince and Kimmi were chatting at the bar for a while, then Kelsy shows up. Vince kisses Kelsy, right in front of Kimmi, who promptly stalks out looking livid and real upset.

*Celia pauses, watching her cigarette smoke. A corner of her mouth raises ever so slightly*

She had that coming, fucking around with Vince's head like she did. You live by it, you die by it.
I don't know what to make of Kelsy, to be honest. As long as Vince is happy with her and she doesn't fuck with his head I can't see there being any further problem.

*Frowns, shifting in her seat restlessly. She stands and disappears out of the camera's view for a few moments before re-appearing in a black night-shirt.*

Still, after that whole debacle, Milo and I were in no mood to continue our evening, so we finished up the brandy and left. I stayed back a while longer before coming home, thinking about the dangers of letting emotion control you like that. I mean, how would I have handled being any one of those three?

*pauses in thought for a minute, then sneers to herself and finishes her glass of brandy*

Hah! I wouldn't be so fucking stupid to get myself in such a mess in the first place!

*Exhales and extinguishes her cigarette in an ashtray. She opens her drawer again, taking out a small blueish capsule and a vial of Vitoc antidote and places them on her desk. Celia swallows the pill, loads the antidote into a booster-shooter and punches a series of buttons on her coms console. She snaps sharply at a tinny voice acknowledging her call;*

Chamber-slave to my quarters, immediately.

*She gives herself an assured smile in the mirror before deactivating the camera.
Video feed ends*

Embracing Addiction

*Video feed begins.
Celia sits calmly behind her desk, which appears to have been tidied since her last video feed. The only items occupying the desk are an ashtray, box of cigarettes and a half-full brandy glass. Celia herself also looks in far better condition; her sleek bob is well groomed, her make-up applied with great care. Her eyes appear to have lost their dull, vacant sheen and now glimmer with a hint of life*

Addiction is such a strange thing... despite the cravings, something inside me tries to fight them off. I tried to give up smoking last week - what a waste of time and effort that was!

*rolls her eyes and lights a cigarette from her packet before continuing*

Look at the state of my fucking nails...

*raises the back of her hand towards the camera drone, showing her black-varnished fingernails looking roughly bitten short*

But it put things in perspective for me; why do I... and indeed most people from what I've seen... have this instinctive aversion to addiction? It causes more grief and bother than the addicition itself!

*leans back in her seat with a smug grin*

So, I have decided to stop worrying so much about my cravings for nicotine, alcohol and emotion... why should I? This body is replaceable, after all. No, I should just be myself... and I am an addict. Something I will now embrace rather than hide from.

*takes a sip of her drink and continues in her mild, relaxed tone*

Vincent still has my dictaphone. I haven't seen much of him lately, I should make an effort to get in touch. I hope he's alright, I find myself caring a lot for the guy.

*takes a draw of her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly*

My feelings towards him seem more defined lately, not as confusing and mixed up as they were a few weeks ago. I think being away from him has helped with that; as I begin to accept the concept of belonging to a family, Vince's role in it looks clearer. The protective instinct and affection I have for him must be akin to what siblings must feel...

*waves her cigarette back and to as she ponders her thoughts*

...or so I've heard. Still, it'll be interesting to learn what sense, if any, he managed to make from my recordings. I'm looking forward to good analytical discussion.

*Celia's eyes widen and glitter softly in the dim orange lights of her apartment*

Ohh... on the subject of looking forward to things, I can hardly wait to get back to exercising with my new sparring partner. Working out with Milo is such a good thing for me... I can get an adrenelin fix and a social fix at the same time and... he says he enjoys it too.

*Blinks, looking unsure of herself but still smiling*

Specifically, he said he liked my company, which took me back at first - I mean, people don't usually like me unless I want something from them... then, of course, I make myself likable, seduce them and rob them blind whilst they're sleeping!

*cackles at first, but it rapidly disapates to a frown. Celia looks momentarily uneasy with herself*

There's that weird feeling again, the one I can't place... knotted stomach, uncomfortable in my own skin, flash of aggresssion...

*crosses her arms across her chest, hands clasping her shoulders. She bites her lip and remains quiet for a few moments before looking back to the camera*

I just hope Milo doesn't misread me. He knows I've done some morally questionable things in my past. But he also knows I haven't had it easy, maybe he understands that the ends justified the means...

*shakes her head with a faint smile, then takes another drink*

Ahh, I'm worrying again! Thinking too much instead of feeling.

Heh, as we were leaving the gym last night, I suggested we spend more time in between sessions socialising together and hinted that my dinner dress hasn't been used in a while...

*looks away from the camera, a distinctly girlish giggle escaping her*

Well, he certainly didn't object! It all feels so exciting and new to me... think I need this drink to steady my nerves!

*Celia raises her near-empty glass to the camera drone, flashing her dark smile*

Here's to addiction...

*She downs the remainder of her drink and stretches an arm out to the camera, shutting it off.
Video feed ends.*

Uncharted Territory

*video feed begins.
Image snaps into focus; Celia is sat at a desk strewn with empty brandy bottles, cigarette packets and used nerve-stick vials. A warm orange lamp casts a sepia glow around her, the rest of the room in darkness. Her arms are outstretched towards the camera drone as she adjusts its position to her eye-level. She then takes a lit cigarette from an ashtray, gazing into the lens silently, expresionless.

The light accentuates a more softer appearance of her; she wears no make-up and her hair is tied back behind her head, a few loose tresses rise and fall gently across her face as she exhales smoke. Eventually, she speaks to the camera...*

It would appear that I don't need probes or wormholes to find myself lost and stranded in uncharted territory. My head is at odds with my feelings... I've never been here before and I don't know my way... this wasn't supposed to happen.

*Celia's well-kept neutral composure crumbles, her vacant eyes begin to look fearful, panicked*

What started out as an experiment has become an outright obsession, an addiction... I can't control this anymore... When there's no emotion to stimulate me, I feel so empty, so hollow. Being emotionally numb is nothing new to me, but now I've tasted intoxication...

*gives an involuntary shudder, throwing her cigarette back into the ashtray*

I can't bear the thought of going back to feeling nothing.

*sighs deeply, looking away from the camera, chewing on her bottom lip with clear anxiety.*

I've been offered help. Vince wants to help me understand my emotions and use them as a strength. I'm dubious about it though... not that I don't trust him, in fact I do trust him, completely. Our very lives depend upon that when we fly together. What I'm more worried about is letting someone I...

*looks thoughtful, searching for a suitable word*

...care about come so close. The thought of him coming to any harm makes my stomach knot. People I get close to end up being harmed.

*absently twists the two rings on her left hand silently for a few moments before resuming*

I think I've done the most sensible thing, though. Rather than go through the indignity of sitting on a fucking shrink's couch, I gave Vincent my dictaphone. If he truely believes he can help, everything I've been feeling lately is on there. I hope he can make better sense of it than I can.

*Celia tilts her head over the back of her seat, running her fingers through her hair letting it loose. After a deep sigh she leans forward again, unbrushed hair falling around her resigned expression*

I feel so sick. I can't think. I can't motivate myself to go to the gym, talk to my engineers or anything else useful.

*Takes a near-empty bottle of brandy from her desk pours the remainder into a glass. She takes a nerve-stick vial, tips the contents into her drink and swirls the bulbous glass around, allowing the alcohol and sedative to mix. She downs it in one gulp, grimacing.*

Am I really worth helping? What's in it for him? I haven't stopped once to think about how anybody else feels, I've been so wrapped up in myself.

*her eyelids grow heavy as her shoulders slump. She begins to tilt forward, reaching out a hand to the camera drone*

Does he have... any idea... of... what he's... getting... into...?

*a brief spasm of pain crosses her face before her head comes to rest on the desk. Her outstretched arm flails at the camera but misses, laying inert amongst the clutter. The camera keeps recording the comatose woman for another hour before going into auto-standby.
Video feed ends.*

Minefields

*Audio feed begins.
Clack. Clack. Clack. Slow, measured steps of heavy boots can be heard pacing on a thick metal floor*

Sometimes I feel like I'm walking in a minefield.
All attention and focus is on exactly where I am, and I daren't move for fear of treading on something and blowing myself up.

*a lighter clicks several times in quick succession followed by a sharp inhale*

I've got to tread so carefully. This would be easy, I'm naturally paranoid, but it's more difficult when I actually find the danger so... exhilirating.

*stops pacing and pauses*

I'm beginning to discern the various feelings I have in certain situations. They're much different from the usual survival urges, they're stronger, more intense... sometimes I can't even think straight... I know that's not good, but it's like brandy or crash; heady and intoxicating.

*another quick inhale and the creak of a matress. Celia lowers her voice*

First example - Vincent. I see him briefly on comms the other night, looking rough. Very rough. And then suddenly my stomach goes cold, my pulse goes up and my mind starts racing - but I can't think because I'm so caught up in the feeling...

*takes another draw as she pauses*

And then the next night, I walk him back from the 'Hook to the medbay and see that he's going to be just fine and... this warm wave steals over me, my stomach unknots and I feel so, so relaxed. We spoke briefly of family, that issue that usually shuts me down cold, but he made it feel natural and comforting. I curled up in the chair, watching him sleep, grinning. My face still hurts from that.

*a faint sound of liquid being poured*

And yet, Kimochi makes me have different feelings altogether... and again, they feel wonderfully perculiar inside. Twice, at the party we attended at the new Three Sister's bar, she invoked this white-hot flash of... adrenylin, aggression... yet it was not entirely directed outwardly at her, it felt more... inside of me.
First time I felt it was when she gave Vince a deep kiss, a "prize" for our silly competition, which I must admit was very entertaining. Second time was when she left, seemingly not too bothered about his company. She keeps doing that. Savouring the kill, did she say to me once? I can't understand that line of thinking. You see what you want and you take it, what's the point in messing around?

*pauses to take a drink*

Third example - Milo. I admit, there's an obvious attraction to him, but not for the reasons I first thought. Sure, he's got cutting-edge accumen, Gallentean looks and as I found out, good physical form... I'd arranged a work-out session with him, so we had a spar before we left for the party. I enjoyed the excercise and the chance to get to know him better; I was surprised to learn that he too has things he would like to put behind him and had used a suppression implant. Ok, the thought of using one myself briefly crossed my mind... until he told me about the side effects.

*takes another drink and sighs*

But I got the most intense feelings when I saw how laid back he can be... he can be so serious sometimes, and yet at other times it seems like he hasn't a care in the world... It makes me feel lighter, worry melts away, smiling comes easily and naturally...

*leaves a lengthy pause, then the sound of pacing footsteps resumes*

How... what...

*gives a weary moan, with a hint of frustration*

How do I keep my focus when my insides are doing this to me? My head is screaming at me to stop, but...

*Celia drops her voice to a whisper, edged with conviction and a certain degree of passion*

I don't want to. It's better than ISK, or real Gallentean brandy, better than a night with a chamber-slave and falling asleep afterwards on a Sooth-Sayer...

I just want more...

*sighs heavily, leaving the dictaphone run without speaking for several minutes. A chronometer can be heard, soflty amidst the slience of the room... Tick. Tick. Tick.
Audio feed ends*