Not Your Average Doctor's Visit

"I'd like to a get a blood sample from you."

I wish I had cat ears or something so I could do that little 'perk up' move when I hear something out of the ordinary like that. I just feel like raising my eyebrows and shit just isn't enough, you know? Like, I need additional body parts to display my general confusion and displeasure with this scenario. Because you have got to be fucking kidding me.

But no, I'm standing in the middle of a sterile lab environment being shown this and that because I asked Third about the big locked rooms or whatever, so I'm touring around one and suddenly "Hey, I'd like some of your blood." Because that doesn't sound suspicious or anything.

I remember just staring at him for a little while like he was crazy and him staring back at me like "What?", like I was the weirdo asking for bodily fluids. Finally, I just spit out, "Swan warned me about this kind of shit you know? I mean, what, did you think I haven't noticed the cameras all over this place? You're not using them to keep an eye on yourself, that's for damned sure."

"It's standard security measures, I'm not using them specifically to spy on you." he replied, looking more tired than annoyed by our exchange, "Don't act like you're so important that I'd set all this up just for you. I have much more important matters to worry about. Now then... all I'm asking for is a blood sample. It's completely voluntary. I'm not going to strap you to a table and take it by force." He smiles, "Though I might wait and take one while you're sleeping... depends on whether the mood strikes me."

I'm taking that last bit as sarcasm, but I threw my arms up regardless and just dropped myself into a damned chair. "God, just fucking take it. I don't care."

"Much appreciated." Third practically sung the words as he turned and began gathering supplies from around the room. I watched him prepare for a bit, examining the room a bit further before speaking up again.

"So what's it for?"

He looked a bit confused, "What's what for?"

"The blood sample."

"Oh. Standard procedure really, I want to run some tests and see how heavily contaminated you are. You've kept your distance for a few months, so I'm hoping the infection has subsided a bit. I need to know if I should strengthen the barrier or not. A few of the more extreme cases have caused.... Problems, in the past." He explained while bringing over a small tray of medical tools and setting it down next to me. "Roll up your sleeve will you?"

"...." Minor hesitation, then I complied, shoving my shirt sleeve up over my shoulder and hanging it there. He went to wrap some rubber strap thing around my upper arm when he stopped. I wasn't looking at him. Took one glance long enough to catch his expression. I think that's the first time I've seen a legitimately confused look on his face. Bit of curiosity and surprise, I guess.

"Hm... what's all this then?" he asked, still hovering in place with his little rubber band.

"Nothing."

"Hardly seems like nothing." He jabbed my shoulder with a digit, seemingly just to get my attention. "Ahh... that one. Now I get it. Not sure I follow the rest though. What's the significance?"

"It's none of your business, now leave it alone."

"Very well, I'll ask again when you're feeling more cooperative. Hold still now." Without much ceremony, he went back to his work and a few seconds later I'm trying to ignore the fact that there's a fucking needle thing in me. I'd have continued small talk, but I was trying to just maintain normal breathing for a little while until it was over. The words "just one more" and "there we go" couldn't come soon enough. "No, don't bend it, keep your arm straight and hold it on there. It'll bruise if you bend it."

"I didn't realize you cared..." sarcasm

"Eh, habit. Don't take it personal." That I'm pretty sure was not sarcasm though...

So now that he's got his vials of red stuff and I'm watching him go back to dancing around the room fiddling with gizmos and whats-its that I couldn't even begin to tell you what were. Seemed as good a time as any for my next question. "You've got an awful lot of nice things around this place. Pretty expensive I'd imagine. How exactly does someone like you get the money for all of this?"

"Hmm... well, I've had a number of dealings with certain... Individuals... who have been more than willing to pay for my assistance in their little... Projects. Knowledge is quite the valuable commodity in this business and I'm holding a lot of rare cards. Comes in handy when you're in need of cash."

"....Moriarty?"

There was a pause. "You're connecting the dots between what I told you earlier and the cure your Proxy 'friends' have been mentioning lately... I won't deny involvement. I've been on Goldstien's payroll before and I did provide him with a wealth of research, but his cure and mine are not quite one and the same. We have something of a difference in opinion in regards to how we operate... I felt it best to cut ties before things went south. Personal interest takes precedence."

"Working for rich bastards and Fears isn't the only way to make money while on the run though." he continued, "I've learned you can make quite the killing with the right investments. You just need to have a little insider information." I remember him tapping the side of his head as he said that. "Any stock owned and operated by Highers within the Proxy structure is sure to increase in value over time. They have a way of keeping their numbers up, if you know what I mean. And in a pinch, you can usually count on options run by the upper ranks of alternative servants. Pharmaceuticals run by those... mad doctors or whatever... Oathbreakers? Yes, that's it. Oh, and almost anything the Wooden Girl has her hands in... She has the most charming way of pulling strings from behind the scenes. Hee, heee~"

"Great... why am I not surprised?"

"Well, it's not that hard to figure out if you think about it." Third replied, "Once you know they have such a massive bureaucracy in place, it doesn't take much to start connecting the dots back to where they're getting their money from. Though if you're really clueless, all it takes is a bit of investigation into general public records. They have a habit of keeping paperwork on Everything after all. The money trail isn't very hard to track if you know what to look for. With all the records they keep, if it weren't for their lawyers and assassins, then their whole operation would have exploded into the public eye ages ago. Isn't that funny?"

"Hilarious."

"Oh, you're no fun." He starts waving at me in a 'Shoo, shoo' fashion. "Why don't you find something else to entertain yourself with for a while. I'll need some time to concentrate on this. I can answer more of your questions later."

"Right... you just... have fun playing with my blood then." I got up and took my leave. He stopped by sometime later to tell me "He's seen worse" and then just turned and left without bothering to explain what that was supposed to mean at all. Didn't see him for the rest of the day.

Safe-Zone

"Do you trust me?"

I stared at Third's outstretched hand. Then up at his face. Then back down at his hand. Then to his face again. "No."

He just sort of frowned and stood there and waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally I took his damned hand, because fuck it. I immediately regretted this decision, as no sooner had I taken his hand were we no longer in the parking lot... only we were in the parking lot... only we weren't in the parking lot. This does not make a lick of sense does it? But I don't think it's supposed to, so lets just roll with it.

The best way to describe it I guess, from what I remember, is that there was this flash of black... which is a weird color for things to flash... then everything just sort of turned monochrome. Or monotone? Whatever, that word I'm trying to mean for black, white, and gray. Lots and lots of shades of gray. And there were suddenly trees where there hadn't been trees before. And their leaves were a suspicious shade of Not Green. I remember getting out a "Son of a bitch" right before a wave of nausea hit me and I felt myself being yanked in a direction I didn't know existed and then everything was normal again only we were in a completely different location...

...and I was on the floor having a coughing fit and puking my guts out. I don't remember actually hearing Third talking at the time, but it's on the tape recorder around this point so, "Wow... really? I thought given your history you'd have had no issues with traversing The Path. If I'd known you were going to react this poorly I'd have dropped us off in the restroom." Later, "At least we aren't on the carpet..."

Since this is kind of an awkward point and I'm just going to skip ahead to the point where I recovered anyways, I just wanted to point this bit out... From what I remember of the experience, we couldn't have been on The Path for more than a couple of seconds. A minute at longest. But when I get to this part in the playback, there's this loud static 'noise' followed by dead air for something along the lines of three and a half hours before the audio comes back in with another burst of noise right before the sound of my coughing fit kicks in. That... kind of bothers me. But maybe that's just how that place works? I dunno... trying not to think about it. My stomach gets upset at me just thinking about it.


Sometime after "I'll clean it up later" and Third handing over the tape recorder that he'd apparently had in his pocket this whole time, I was being given a lackluster tour of our present location. Third is basically occupying the entire upper floor of... I'm still not really sure what. I guess some sort of office building? I haven't been "allowed" to go downstairs, so I don't know. I'm basically being "confined" to this top floor until Third is satisfied that I believe him or something.

See, what he's basically telling me, because I'm not typing the fucking ten minute monologue he hammered out to me about this shit, is that this location is essentially "off the radar" as far as... pretty much Anything is concerned. It's one of his so called "Safe-Zones" that he's erected as a base of operations. Essentially, the location is under a localized perception filter that blocks it from the tall man's vision, and presumably from everyone else's as well. Same basic tech as employed by Eden Facilities from what I gather(there was some insinuation that may even be where he got the tech from, but he wasn't exactly clear on that).

Now, this doesn't mean the Construct can't get inside the place. It's just really unlikely that he'd show up here, given that he doesn't know the place is here and all. According to Third, this is basically as safe as things can get in terms of Anti-Fear security. "It's also the same type of protection field that kept you safe back in that hotel room I was keeping you in last month. I have locations of this nature set up all over the world, so I've always got a backup to retreat to in the event something ever goes wrong. I haven't had to fall back on that fail-safe just yet, but I feel it's best to be prepared for anything."

Shortly after the tour, he informed me that he still had other matters to attend to and that he's appreciate me staying put while he managed his affairs. From there I was left in this room with the couch and the tv, among other things... which I'd have complained about but, again, air conditioning. He also didn't lock me in the room... which surprised me. Though I did find a few other locked locations while I was wandering around in his absence at some point when I got bored. Planned to ask him about that later when he showed back up. But this is long enough as it is, so I'll continue this business later, kay? Hopefully things will continue to go along smoothly for a while...

Meeting the Third

"You're late."

That was the line of dialogue that greeted me upon my arrival at the location Third had designated for our meeting place, the parking lot behind some old factory in the middle of nowhere. I think it was technically a loading dock area or something but... whatever, it was a big empty space to stand around in.

"You give shitty directions." I shot back, but all I got in response was a shrug. I stared at the plain clothed individual before me, somewhat disappointed that he wasn't standing around in some ridiculously elaborate garb. He just looked so 'normal'. If I hadn't already known what his face looked like, I'd have probably never guessed it was him. "You know, the way things normally go, I was kind of expecting for you to just pop out of the shadows while I was exploring this place and stab me to death. What gives?"

"Well, I've got a fairly large pocket knife on me. I can have you chase me around a few dimly lit corridors, if that's what you really want." His expression was pretty dull, like he didn't care in the least for any of this... or he was bored.


"I'll pass, thanks." I shook my head, still looking my old 'friend' over. He could have at least worn a mask or something. My romantic illusion of proxies are in tatters over here. "So what's this all about then? Now that you've dragged me all the way out here?"

Another shrug. "What? I can't just want to catch up with an old friend? Shoot the breeze for old time's sake?"

"Judging by what I've seen? No. No you can't."

He sighed, frowning at me for a moment, but any sign of irritation quickly faded. "Not going to make this easy are you? Fine. But I'm telling the truth, I just came out here to talk. I suspected that once you remembered me, you'd eventually start asking questions and trying to track me down. And honestly I've got enough people stalking me as it is, so I'd appreciate one less dog on my tail... or should I say one less Mouse in this instance?"

"Fuck your entire self."

And now he's smiling. There's an expression I fucking recognize. "Such a charmer you are... So, to business? I have places to be you know."

"Yeah? Like where? Am I making you late for your big date with the tall man?"

"Hardly." And the grin gets wider. "But I'll take that remark as a thinly veiled attempt at getting in your first real question. And the answer is 'No'. I'm not a Proxy."

"Tch, what so you're a Runner now?"

"Of all people, I expected You to paint less of a black and white picture of the world... No, I'm not a Runner either. Nor am I necessarily neutral. My allegiances are with myself, just as His were. My enemy is the same as yours, though perhaps it extends beyond that... The Construct, as you've chosen to call it, is not the only duck in the pond after all."

And now I'm just confused... and looking for Strings. "If you're actively acting against it, then how are you not a Runner?"

"Simple. He can't see me." He says as if it's the most natural and obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"It's as I explained to you back then. Purge the infection and you're off the radar. It took some time... longer than it should have, thanks to your 'friend', but I eventually found the correct dosage... My Benefactor assisted me in my goals... given they were his own goals, at the time... So it was a simple enough process. He provided what I needed and I did the work in his absence... leaving him to focus on other details of his ever branching plans."

That sounded like my cue. "So you're telling me you really are Redlight?"

I distinctly remember the pause here. It was brief, but it was one of the only times during our discussion he looked genuinely irritated. It was only there for a moment, then the smile and his little 'I'm better than you' facade slipped right back into place... but it was there.

"I was a vessel." he continued, "For a time. For Redlight. Yes. But I was no more him, than he was me. He allowed me to see though his eyes... to remember it all, as most never would... so that I could serve him in furthering his interests. Though contrary to my previous claims, I was by no means 'Special'. Though I never met others, I see no reason to assume that I was the only one he treated in this manner. He was crafty like that... always one step ahead of Their game. He had to be... to stay alive as long as he had... to gain all that he had gained. Those like myself were insurance policies. To ensure his machinations survived. To carry out his will, even in death."

"So you're his successor... is that what you're saying?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it. Yes. Though the choices I've made and the goals I have set since we were... Disconnected... are my own, I still follow his designs. Much of my knowledge was once his after all. Though I by no means hold his full memory. Merely the bits and pieces of it which I experienced firsthand while I was riding shotgun in my own body."

"So then what are you planning now?"

"None of your business."

"Oh come on! I thought you were being straight with me?"

"I am. But I fail to see where my future plans pertain to you. I have little use for you to be honest. And the fewer people who are aware of the full extent of my plans, the better. All you need to know is that I'm ahead of The Game. And that given the chance, I can... and will... end it. That is my Purpose."

"Oh bullshit. Now you're talking like friggin 'A' over there. Why should I believe any of this garbage you're spouting?"

And just when I thought his expression couldn't get any more smug... "Look around you." He lifts his arms, waving about this way and that, directing my attention to our surroundings. "What do you see?" He gives that some time to sink in. I'm looking around, half expecting something to jump out at me, but there's just nothing out there. Place is deserted save for us. "We're completely out in the open. Where is He? Think about it... when's the last time you saw Him? For the last several weeks, you've been more vulnerable than you ever have before and yet not only has He not attempted to take you... but you haven't even seen Him. Why is that?"

I had to throw my hands up at that one. I couldn't really answer it. "Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I'm just lucky like that? Maybe he was busy dealing with all the forest fires? I'm sure those are pissing him off."

Wider and wider that grin. "Hardly... You haven't seen Him because I've been shielding you from him."

"That's... not possible."

"Really? After everything you've seen, everything you've read, you would still question the realms of possibility in this world? Very well then. Shall I prove it to you?" He holds out his hand.

And then I proceeded to lose my lunch... but more on that later. As that just reminded me that I'm hungry and that there is actually a fridge with fresh food in this place.

Analysis

Right... so, where do we start?

I guess for the ones that haven't figured it out yet,
1 - Onewinged
2 - The Gargoyle
3 - The Third
You can also assume the voices that I didn't identify with a number were probably me too. As no fourth option has presented itself in anything I've seen to suggest otherwise.

Secondly... what I've posted is not even the half of what I've been seeing lately. Some of it... some of it I'd just rather not talk about. You... you don't need to know. It doesn't add anything new to the table it's just-- yeah. Not going there. I've posted what I felt seemed... relevant.


So... I'm trying not to jump to too many conclusions here but... I don't really see a whole lot of alternative explanations, so...

Rule Number One, right?

Everyone lies. Even the people you trust the most.

I've been trying to piece together a timeline or something but... there's just not enough detail. Everything gets fuzzy. All I can deduce for certain is that Onewinged, The Third, and myself were clearly involved in this mess for much longer than I thought. Magic Number Three flipped his shit and wiped my memory, leading to... basically a blank that I can't describe. Onewinged must have filled in the gaps with whatever excuses he could think up and I just rolled with it... Maybe this is why I stopped drinking? ...among other things?

I never realized until I started actually trying to do so just how lacking my memory of recent years is. I mean... knowledge seems to still be intact, but... personal memory and the like is just shot full of holes. And even now that this stuff has started coming back, I can only really confirm one instance of a Construct encounter and that- ...Nevermind.


I still don't really know how it started... I'm not sure if I ever will. And I'm not sure I want to know. Some things are best lost to the ether, I think.

But this other guy... I've got no memory of him outside of these visions. Like he's been wiped clean. I've been identifying him as "The Third" because that's the best descriptive term I have for him at the moment. No real name for him has ever come up. I'm not sure of our relationship outside of "a friend", at quite possibly the loosest sense of the word.

But I think I finally get it now... all the 3's in Onewinged's typing. Code, right? More like a big obvious hint I was too stupid to see. There were three of us from the start. There were always three of us. So I get it now. I understand. So then...

Third.

What the fuck do you want?