Post by satyricalconsort on Mar 8, 2023 17:10:20 GMT -5
There were one of two paths to pick in this, Guts' very own choose your own adventure. Of course he decided on the left hand path, because that was familiar. It'd been easier to get noticed by The Avengers and their ensemble if he'd chosen to fight next to them against HYDRA; but there was that cunning within him, it was like he knew the future; that if he'd approached them in his older state he would have been turned on and he'd wind up in the same place again; just being held by the other side of the game board instead.
"Why break my shackles just to serve another master?" were the thoughts inside Guts overly occupied brain at the moment. And it was like he changed, subconsciously, in order to avoid that fate. His pulse, the sound of his voice, his scent, his bone structure, his muscle frame, even the size and shape of his organs were all changed. His neurological map had changed; his true self had been somehow shunted away and awaited within some kind of pocket domain. It wasn't hidden within his mind; it was somewhere else - cloaked in the kind of darkness that no light could penetrate. It lived there now. This person wasn't Ashton Winter... he named himself Alabaster.
Time to fit in. Time to play nice with the other kids. A nice personality fragment formed by schizophrenia and amnesia.. even dementia; it took the front and than wrapped his entire psyche in a warm blanket and made him physiologically, psychologically, biochemically, even spiritually opposite to his original personality; his true self. The transformation was true and complete.
And so he'd follow the transhuman who so previously followed him before. Yes cyborg had become his Achilles heel, he alone knew the truth. The ferals, the psychics, the mediums, the clairvoyants; his cloak floated him under their radar. Indeed the other experiments wouldn't even know where he came from. And the fact that there was little physical proof of what he'd done gave him a layer of armor against whatever David might say if he wasn't scared into silence anyhow?
He was full of so many voices; the sound of the hive still buzzing in his brain. The effects of the serum hadn't finished setting in completely. These voices spoke to him about contingencies; but even they couldn't cover everything. Even if he somehow knew everything that could happen, there was no way he could know what might actually take place. And so he hid himself. Far far away. He became somebody else.
And yes he did get onto whatever paddy wagon the good guys would load them on to; imitating the cyborg, his hands up. He even managed a tear as Jean's voice echoed through his cheese cloth psyche; they were being rescued. What a relief! He thanked them emphatically, repeatedly. This was his place now.
"Why break my shackles just to serve another master?" were the thoughts inside Guts overly occupied brain at the moment. And it was like he changed, subconsciously, in order to avoid that fate. His pulse, the sound of his voice, his scent, his bone structure, his muscle frame, even the size and shape of his organs were all changed. His neurological map had changed; his true self had been somehow shunted away and awaited within some kind of pocket domain. It wasn't hidden within his mind; it was somewhere else - cloaked in the kind of darkness that no light could penetrate. It lived there now. This person wasn't Ashton Winter... he named himself Alabaster.
Time to fit in. Time to play nice with the other kids. A nice personality fragment formed by schizophrenia and amnesia.. even dementia; it took the front and than wrapped his entire psyche in a warm blanket and made him physiologically, psychologically, biochemically, even spiritually opposite to his original personality; his true self. The transformation was true and complete.
And so he'd follow the transhuman who so previously followed him before. Yes cyborg had become his Achilles heel, he alone knew the truth. The ferals, the psychics, the mediums, the clairvoyants; his cloak floated him under their radar. Indeed the other experiments wouldn't even know where he came from. And the fact that there was little physical proof of what he'd done gave him a layer of armor against whatever David might say if he wasn't scared into silence anyhow?
He was full of so many voices; the sound of the hive still buzzing in his brain. The effects of the serum hadn't finished setting in completely. These voices spoke to him about contingencies; but even they couldn't cover everything. Even if he somehow knew everything that could happen, there was no way he could know what might actually take place. And so he hid himself. Far far away. He became somebody else.
And yes he did get onto whatever paddy wagon the good guys would load them on to; imitating the cyborg, his hands up. He even managed a tear as Jean's voice echoed through his cheese cloth psyche; they were being rescued. What a relief! He thanked them emphatically, repeatedly. This was his place now.