Experimental: A House Tour

Greetings! And welcome to the abode of Mr. Brand.

Please do come in. I suppose you'd first like the grand tour of this place. It does appear you've traveled quite a ways to be here.

Come along now. You're a shy one, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't hurt you. But I would recommend you watch your step. Lots of random pipes sticking out of the floors around here. Simply shoddy work I say.

If we had known you were coming we might have cleaned it all up a bit. Oh dear, do be careful with that stack of books. That's precisely what I mean. Things being left wherever. Dreadful mess. Do watch your step, a few nasty pipes here. Don't want to trip and land flat on your face. Wouldn't do at all to cover the axons in blood now would it.

Ah, here is the Master Study. Quite cozy. You'll note the various stations around the room and the Victorian chair behind the aluminum control board. It's perched on the gray wood pedestal in the back. Lots of access to all the files and books and whatnot behind those oak doors over yonder across the room. Dreadful mess in there, but much quicker than running down to the archives. Plus this room has the best air conditioning around. Always exactly the right temperature. Makes it easier to get in the groove Mr. Brand says. I say if he wanted to get in the groove he should get rid of those infernal speakers. Always blasting music in here. Terribly distracting I think. Ah, but what do I know.

Come along, still much to see. These hallways you may notice are inspired by old mountain hunting lodges. Strong stone floors, rough hewn wooden walls, and large beams for the rafters. All steel rebar just like in the old days. Although these electric lights ruin the atmosphere a little. And the lack of moose heads. We're not much for decorating around here. Unless you count the piles of books left here and there. Short-term storage he always claims.

Now here's a very nice place, the Artery. Plenty of canvases to paint on and screens to bring up fond memories for inspiration. Or not so fond memories. We don't always paint pretty pictures of butterflies in here. No, that'd be terribly boring. Always fun to dim the lights a little and give a good scare. A few dabs of red for eyes can really make a piece you know. Completely changes the atmosphere. And fear isn't about what you see, it is about what you don't see. Oh good heavens look at me babbling about the art of fear. Must be dreadfully boring for you. Let's move along here shall we? Do mind your step, the antiques here are quite valuable.

And here we are. Through these doors now. And this is the Grand Library. Many many things filed away and indexed and stacked. Sometimes I wonder if we have too much in here. Too bad we don't clean up, things keep getting lost. Especially in the Deep Archives. Not enough light back there, and I swear someone keeps playing tricks and is mucking up all the good books with little annotations and whatnot. Why, just last week I retrieved a story about this birthday party and I could have sworn there was some other fellow in it but all the pictures were scribbled over. Terrible waste, impossible to make the fellow's face and name out. Pity, it was such a nice story. There was cake and dancing and everything.

Oh dear me, I've been babbling again. Well, that concludes our brief tour of Mr. Brand's home. Would you care to have an escort back to the exit? Oh, but I insist. I can't very well leave you alone in here. Too many things you could break, and I couldn't forgive myself if you got lost. Yes, I'm quite sure you're a very capable young man, but you see, we didn't have time to clean up and there are some very sensitive items around that must be looked after and -

Oh my.

Well, if we're doing it that way I suppose I can't refuse. Although really I do think the sword is a bit overly dramatic don't you think? Something tells me you think it makes you elegant and refined. But I say a gun would work just as well.

I see. Guess that's very thoughtful of you, thinking about collateral. Although there would still be the matter of the rug. It is quite soft and blood doesn't come out well.

Yes I know you didn't come here for cleaning lessons. In fact, your surprise at seeing me here at all told me much more than that. But of course you weren't expecting me around. Not many households are able to be staffed at all, let alone now at night. But, you already knew that. You're not a common burglar.

Oh, my mistake. A thief is it? Just as well. I'm afraid you won't be finding what you're looking for. See, I was lying about leaving things scattered around. You really think Mr. Brand and I would leave important memories like that just littered around the place? Especially ones concerning the latest Datajack prototypes. And don't go looking for a safe either. We like to keep the place a little messy with a purpose. Makes it easier to get to things ourselves, but also much harder for someone else to find it. That didn't mean you have my permission to go running down the aisles.

Blast it boy, stop running about. By the way, did you like the architecture? I thought it a nice touch as well. Too often you come in and are greeted by random globes of light or bubbling brooks in forests or massive walls of filing cabinets. Why not have a bit of class when running from one cortex to another, hm? Although we do need to work on the plumbing. Still haven't gotten those blasted capillary lines stowed neatly away.

Why no, good sir, I am not stalling. I am merely talking to myself while I follow you. I strongly doubt you have need to kill me, and I have no intention of intervening with your search. Oh my, I did say be careful with those book piles. They're quite unstable, and liable to land on you at some time if you keep yanking them out at random. No I am not insulting you, just giving you a few pointers. Well, to you the same then.

Now if you're quite done running down the aisles and pulling memories at random, I can escort you to the exit and we can be civil about this. Ah, it was worth a shot. Now put that down before you get someone hurt. I like my head where it is thank you very much. But I won't be helping you.

Well, that smarts.

ahem That smarts quite a bit really. But really you should have cough let me escort you out. You see, this architecture - this maze of passageways - isn't just for show really. My employer is aptly skilled at rearranging things. I think you'll have quite a doozy of a time just finding the exit from here. A couple of piles are probably moved around. And even if you do, the axon hallways will undoubtedly be different than on your way in.

ahem. Yes, I suppose you are a bit fucked, but do watch your language. Did you really think it was going to be that easy to waltz into this mind and sample a few secrets? Please, you just made the worst mistake of your cough cough miserable little career. Mr. Brand is rated a Level 3 Psianst.

Oh please, I'm already bleeding out. No need to stab me again. cough No, more holes won't make me tell you the cough cough bloody way out. In fact, it makes it much harder to show you the way out since I can't - well come now, I don't have a foot anymore.  cough Very brilliant you silly cough bastard. How am I supposed to walk now? Brilliant cough cough brilliant solution old chap. cough cough wheeze

Bah, enough of this. I will take my leave and leave you to your silly prattling. Come now, you didn't figure it out? I'm the daemon of Michael Brand you ignorant twat. This is my dominion, my very own mind. I can do whatever I please, including healing my own bloody mental projection in my own bloody mind space. I am not stupid, but apparently you are. Good luck finding your way out. I'm afraid you'll be here for quite a while. A little game instead of killing you. Let's see if you can escape my maze as I rearrange it on the fly. Maybe I'll make a mistake and you'll sneak through a crack. Or maybe I'll be able to keep you buried in layers upon layers of walls of books. Surrounded by my memories. All the information you could want about me and yet you will never find what you are looking for.

Ah, you are finally getting it now. Good. All the more reason to just kill yourself now isn't it? Not much hope of you competing with me in my own home now is there. If you live long enough, perhaps I'll even bring in a screen so you can see what happens to your poor body outside. Datajacking into someone else's mind does leave the physical body so...vulnerable.

Cheery-o. Enjoy your stay in my humble abode. I'd say come again, but, well, it just doesn't feel appropriate.