09-16-2018, 08:11 PM
[align=center][table][tr][td][/td][td]
BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
[/td][/tr][/table]
Bastille had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Monroe, reminded that not everyone was as accustomed to how easy mental manipulation could be. Sure, it had a certain unpleasant ring to it, but myths of brainwashing and corrupted thoughts were only half the story (arguably even less than that, if you asked him). As a host, he was obligated to uphold the dignity and integrity of other people's thoughts when trespassing; the notion that he would be clambering around in Buckingham's head, knocking shit about and harming him, was about as ridiculous as the idea of Onision ever learning to fucking behave. (Which, given that he seemed to think he was going to stick around and hide behind Hazel of all members, was still looking just as ridiculous as Bast believed.)
"While it's unfortunate that someone was less than cautious in the past," Bastille said after a moment of studying Buckingham evenly, his tone just a little dry, "I can assure you that I would do no damage if you let me access your memories." The emphasis was clear, but the sideways glance he shot Alex was even clearer. He was mildly offended that they both seemed to doubt his capability of delicacy and the fact that he would intentionally endanger this near stranger, suspect or not. "I have no interest in digging around through your privacy; you'd be entirely able to control which memories you present to me, and I'd go no farther than that."
A pause. His pale blue stare locked on Har, flecked with slight amusement. They were certainly not very intimidating, but he had to hand it to the kid for trying to uphold justice. Cute. Bastille cocked his head to the side, exposing his throat pointedly, and added, "Besides — you've got Monroe and Har right here. If I touch anything I'm not supposed to, they'll know, and one of them can stop me."
[align=center][table][tr][td]"While it's unfortunate that someone was less than cautious in the past," Bastille said after a moment of studying Buckingham evenly, his tone just a little dry, "I can assure you that I would do no damage if you let me access your memories." The emphasis was clear, but the sideways glance he shot Alex was even clearer. He was mildly offended that they both seemed to doubt his capability of delicacy and the fact that he would intentionally endanger this near stranger, suspect or not. "I have no interest in digging around through your privacy; you'd be entirely able to control which memories you present to me, and I'd go no farther than that."
A pause. His pale blue stare locked on Har, flecked with slight amusement. They were certainly not very intimidating, but he had to hand it to the kid for trying to uphold justice. Cute. Bastille cocked his head to the side, exposing his throat pointedly, and added, "Besides — you've got Monroe and Har right here. If I touch anything I'm not supposed to, they'll know, and one of them can stop me."
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE [color=#b4d5ee]FLAMES
[/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]