Warp/Brainiac - Psychic and Siren

Gathering / Conference

Becoming increasingly concerned about the hypnotic trigger phrase implanted into his mind by Schurk Industries, Warp contacts the only person he knows who might be able to remove it for him.

Frank sits in his favourite armchair, Charcoal nestled peacefully on its arm, purring softly, as Frank stares at his phone. Having sat that way for almost a full ten minutes, Frank finally builds up the nerve to hit the call button, Brainiac's name filling the display briefly before he presses the phone to his ear.   The phone rings for a few moments before being picked up and the somewhat confused voice of Brainiac speaking from the other side of the line, "Warp? That you? What's up?"   "Hey Brain, ye it's me" Frank pauses a moment to take a breath, "I wanted to ask if you might have the time to help me with something?"   "Uhh..." she says, pausing for a moment, uncertainly, "Depends when and what, really. I have got a few things going on, but I might be able to move some stuff around. What do you need?"   "Whenever you can fit me. It's not exactly urgent but it's important. Are you familiar with mental programming?"   "It's something of a... specialty, actually," she says, giggling slightly to herself, "Why do you ask?"   "Because I've been programmed, and I want to undo it... someone died because of it."   "Holy-" she mutters, before catching herself, "What happened?"   "It was a long time ago, nothing recent and only myself, the Centurion, and maybe a couple others in Century know about it," Frank again has to pause, steeling his nerve, "I don't know how much you know about my past Brain, I think Blue knows, I wouldn't be on the team if I wasn't thoroughly checked even with my Century credentials but I used to work for Schurk. I did a lot of things I regret, but nothing more than the murder of Maeve O'Leary... and her young daughter, the latter because of my programming."   "Maybe it would be best we discussed this in person, Frank," she says, seeming concerned about the nature of the information she's being given, "Why don't you come by my office in the tower later today?"   "Sure, that's not a problem, just let me know when."   "I can be there at about four?" she says, seemingly distracted by some sort of commotion going on around her.   "That's fine, I'll drop by, thanks."   "Alright, Frank. See you later." She says, before promptly hanging up.   Frank lets the phone drop to his lap before resting his head back against his chair, reaching over to scratch Charcoal's ears, "Here's hoping we can fix me," he thinks out loud. A couple hours later, Frank walks through the entry hall of the Vigilant Tower, nodding to the on duty guard as he enters, "Hey Hank."   Hank offers him a deep nod as he passes by before promptly returning to his ever-present newspaper and allowing Frank to make his way into the nearby elevator. Frank enters, looking over the many floor buttons before settling on the one he's after and giving it a firm press, his anxiety creeping up as he tries not to think about Brainiac's reaction to the things he's done, and the possible outcome of this meeting.   He soon finds his way to Brainiac's "office", though he's not sure how she could call an unfurnished room an office, most people he'd heard more often referred to it as a dojo or something. She wasn't there when he arrived, a habit he's starting to get used to with the Vigil's youngest member, but she shows up pretty soon thereafter, floating into the room and beaming at him with her usual glow.   "Hi, Frank," she says, "How are we feeling?"   Frank smiles despite himself, something about Brainiac's irrepressible cheerfulness putting him at ease, "A bit better, though still not sure how to feel. A little nervous, about laying my darker secrets to bare but it needs to be done."   "Well, everyone has things they're not proud of, Frank," she says, floating slightly lower so that they're almost face-to-face, "But, I may be able to help with the nerves. Picture your happy place for me."   Frank has to think for a minute, he has a number of fond memories but nothing he'd ever call his "happy place" until he casts his mind back many years, a small sterile white room with a few small plastic toys and a woman sitting next to him, she's singing something, low and soothing, he can feel the softness of her brilliant white lab coat as he clings to her, her hand stroking the back of his head, he can't remember her face, except for the smile she wears as she gazes down at him. The closest thing he ever had to a mother, smiling at him as though he were the only thing that ever mattered to her.   "Damn, Frank. Really not making my job easy, are you?" Brainiac says, her tone deadpan as she peers into his memories, "Most people just go with a nice beach or something... Alright, let's give it a go."   A moment later, the room around them fades away, replaced with the sterile white of his old room, toys strewn across the floor, and a familiar tune being hummed around them, seemingly on the air itself, "How's this?"   He looks about the old room, and he does feel calmer, though more from the tune than the room itself. "Sorry" he says sheepishly, "This was the only place I was really allowed to feel at peace. Beaches, gardens and so on, chances are I was doing something for Schurk during those moments and they weren't exactly relaxing."   "It's alright," she says, looking around the room before motioning over to the child's bed, "Why don't you take a seat and tell me exactly what you've got going on in that noggin of yours."   Frank does so and takes a moment to think how to proceed. "Well, as you can see, I was raised by Schurk Industries, but what most don't know is that I wasn't just raised by them, I was made by them. I was genetically engineered to be a super soldier, grown and monitored in a vat so they could record everything about my development. After I was "born" I was under constant observation, they wanted to know everything they could about making people like me and as I got older I was put under several operations and put through many psych tests and procedures. I don't know when the programming was done, perhaps it was scrubbed from my memory whilst being implemented," Frank pauses for breath, the words coming easier than he had expected now he'd started, "All I know is that it works through a command phrase, 'Be a good lad...' then whatever instruction I'm to follow."   "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Frank," she says, landing on the floor for what could possibly be the first time he'd ever seen, "Mind if I take a quick look?" she asks, motioning to her temple.   Frank nods "Feel free, at this point I see no reason you shouldn't see for yourself," he says before taking a breath and letting himself relax, opening himself up freely to Brainiac's mental sight.   "Alright, just... try to relax," she says, "This may be a little uncomfortable."   As opposed to Brainiac's usual sense for the surface thoughts of an individual, like the one she used to create the space they currently find themselves in, the probe that she performs into his long-term memory feels powerful and invasive, causing a shiver to run down Frank's spine as he tries to maintain his composure. As she finds the particular memories in question, he almost feels like he's being drawn back in time to his younger days, where men in white coats with cold, staring eyes leered down at him like a curiosity rather than a human being.   He felt the sting of needles injecting into his skin and could hear the muffled voices of grown-ups who had anything but his best interest in mind. And then, over the din of a thousand memories, a teasing, melodious voice weaving her malign intent into his mind, "Be a good lad..."   He jolts back to the present, with the appearance of the room flickering around them as Brainiac leans back slightly, taking her hand off her temple and looking down at him, "Woah..."   Frank almost doubles over as he sucks in breath, sweat running freely down his face, "That voice, I don't-" he stops, trying to regain himself, "I don't remember that voice at all, I knew most of the people who worked on me at least passingly but that woman? Nothing."   "This isn't your normal, run-of-the-mill hypnosis or brainwashing, Frank," Brainiac says, looking concerned, "I think they may have had a superhuman put these ideas in your head. They're in there so deep..."   He puts a hand to his face as he tries to wipe away the sweat and laughs, but there's no humour in it, "Of course, they wouldn't take half-measures with an investment like me. Too much time and expense expended for that."   "Yeah, I'm not sure I'll be able to remove this, Frank," she says, grimacing slightly as she delivers the bad news, "It's a wound that's been covered by years of mental scar tissue."   "I never thought it'd be easy, but I have to try," Frank sits back up, he breathing becoming normal again as he calms down, though his heart sinks at her words. "Would you be willing to try? Maybe, it's effects can be reduced if not nullified," he asks, hope not yet puttered out.   "I might be able to do... something...." she says, thinking for a moment to herself, "I might not be able to completely remove the trigger, but by rewriting a few memories, I might be able to change the trigger phrase. The only people who'd know it then are you and me, rather than whoever on Schurk's payroll had access to your files."   Frank nods less than he'd wanted, but more than he'd feared. "Thank you, that's been my single greatest fear. I know it's still out there, someone has access to those files and that woman..." His voice trails off, a shiver running down his spine yet again. "She could still be out there." he finishes.   "Alright then," she says, sitting on the ground in front of him and looking up to him, a little more hope in her eyes, "So, what'll it be?"   Frank things for a moment, a few ideas running through his head. "Does it have to be something, I dunno, believable? for the memory to supercede the original?"   "Not really. I'm pretty good at this," she says, "Just something verbal that fits into roughly the same amount of time."   "It's like choosing a password, but worse," he says as he puts his head in his hand thinking, "Perhaps..." Then he thinks to Mina, the first and only person to use his command phrase, and then to the family they had planned to start before that fateful day, "."   "I'm afraid psychic trigger phrases must include at least one number and be, at most, ten letters long," she says, giggling in an attempt to diffuse the tension.   Frank snorts, completely unprepared for the joke, before pretending to glare at the pink haired prankster, "I mean it though, was going to be the ," he sobers at the thought, "She'd be the only person to know that."   "Alright then," she says, slowly reaching forward towards his forehead, "Physical connection makes this a lot easier."   Frank leans forward in turn, closing his eyes as he braces for another deep dive into his subconscious. The same feeling of mental violation pervades as Brainiac makes her alterations, but not quite as shocking as the first time and, after a few moments, she releases his head and leans back.   "How's that?" she asks, allowing Frank a moment to steady himself. While he definitely feels uneasy with what's just been done to him, upon reflection every memory he has of his trigger phrase being used against him has been replaced, clear memories of the new one replacing the old.   "It seems to have done the trick. I remember the new phrase clearly being said that day, even though I also know it wasn't... it's weird, but I'll get over it." he says with a smile.   "Great!" she says, beaming at him once again and standing up, "I'll send my bill in the mail."   Frank laughs this time, "Sure. You accept chocolates as currency right?"   "Ice cream and cat memes are my official currency," she says, grinning as she begins to float again.   Frank grins, "I shall make sure that proper offerings are made of both for your aid then," he says as also stands, "But seriously Brain, thank you, for your help and your understanding."   "No need to thank me, Warp," she says as the room around them returns to the old dojo, "I love helping people. Isn't that why we do all this?"   "It is, for the most part," Frank's smile falters a bit, "For some of us, it helps relieve guilt. Medicine for the soul, as it were."   "Well, we all have our reasons," she says as she leads him towards the door, "Some are just a little sadder than others."   “Before I go, would you be willing to test the phrase? I want to make sure the command has been changed, and not just my memory of what was said.” he says soberly   "Sure," she says, looking around them for signs of anyone else nearby before speaking again, "," she says, before a grin spreads across her features, "Now, tell me which of your teammates you find most attractive."   Frank’s vision goes dark, and his body becomes rigid, his eyes seeming to glaze over as he speaks mechanically, “Harmony.”   "Cool..." Brainiac says, watching the transformation before giving him a moment to come back to his senses, "You alright there, Frank?"   Frank blinks rapidly as his eyes focus again and his body relaxes. He presses a hand to his head as he feels a migraine suddenly come on, “Yeah, just a killer headache.”   "Do you remember what happened?" she asks, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.   He shakes his head, then immediately regrets it, wincing in pain. “No, it’s like blacking out, or maybe sleep walking. I didn’t remember the last time either.”   "Probably for the best," she says, stifling a slight giggle, "I might be able to help with the migraine if you like?"   “Please do,” he says still wincing.   She touches a finger to his forehead and quickly the pain begins to die down, replaced with an oddly cool sensation in his temples, "How's that?"   He blinks in surprise before releasing his head, “Like the best paracetamol I’ve ever taken, thanks.”   "Well, I am an Ibuprofessional," she says, giggling to herself.   Frank smiles but also shakes his head at the joke, “Well I’d better let you get on with your day, thanks again.”   "Anytime, Frank," she says, leading him to the lift and smiling.   "See ya around, Brain" he says as the lift doors slide closed, and he makes his way down and out of the building, a weight lifted from his shoulders.