_So, he's here. And he's looking for a chip. Jack has a mask on so he doesn't have to smell how "old" the place was, with all the plants growing everywhere, as well as dust kicking up in a small cloud with literally every step he took with his bare feet. It was...too fucking quiet. It really made him feel even more nervous than if he had heard anyone else here. But he did manage to find something--a small book, the one he was told to open. And sure enough, the chip's hidden inside, the pages cut out as if it was hiding a flask. Bingo.

He spent the next minutes sitting on a creaky chair near where he had found it, closely examining it with those ghost eyes of his and writing down literally every detail. It'd help with the tests later._

_Vriska's quite a lot less nervous, if nowhere near as quick to the scene. In fact, she's downright comfortable, in her search-- after wasting so much time clambering up Shitty Name Mountains, it's nice to take things a little bit more slowly, and work her irons in the fire a little more thoroughly, especially because she believes that, for the moment, she's unopposed. Whoever's searching for her is obviously not having anything even resembling luck, and there doesn't seem to be much happening in this part of her 'brave new world'.

So, of course, when she pushes open the (eternally creaky) door to whatever abandoned house is eighth in her search, she's surprised to hear an unrelated creaking, deeper within the building-- and immediately flattened against a wall, taking cautious peeks around corners and concealing as much of her movement as possible; there's no reason to give up the element of surprise until she absolutely needs to. (You've gotta 8e fucking kidding me...)_

_Jack easily picked up that sound. Looking up slowly from the chip, and into the darkness--which his eyes needed just a few seconds to adjust to--turning his head from left to right rather slowly. He didn't hear things, right? Surely not! There was someone else here, in this abandoned, run-down version of Canterlot. He had questioned where everyone went, but now it was weirder for people to actually be here.

Sighing and quickly finishing his notes, he slowly slides the chip back inside the book, and the book into the shelf--but now he's putting some blinking red thing on top of it, too. Most definitely a tracker. (Now time to get the fuck out of here.)_

_She takes one peek, waits for the gengar's head to shift, and then takes a much longer glance around a corner... just long enough, of course, to notice him slipping her prize into what must've been its original container, and the blinking red of the tracker affixed to it. She can't abide this meddling, not when there are such readily available solutions to this problem-- well, readily available to some version of her; she's a bit out of practice, with this, although it comes naturally enough regardless.

There's a buzzing feeling in the back of Jack's head, which very rapidly mounts into a searing, horribly unpleasant tingling, and, shortly after, a paralyzing rigidity, spreading from the very tips of his extremities inward... the source becomes quite clearly audible shortly after, as a grunt of rusty effort snarls out from around the corner, followed by Vriska, herself, with two fingers pressed tightly to her temple, directing her eightfold stare so intently into Jack's side that it's almost physically painful to withstand. "If I didn't know 8etter, I'd think you were going to leave without even saying hello! That's no way to treat someone whose work you're meddling with!"_ (edited)

_Dear god, this hurts. But what's more important are the questions racing through his mind. Is that Vriska MoThErFuCkInG Serket he just heard? Is she trying to Mindmanipul8 him? Did she make the joke about the fussing and meddling?

A sound comes out of his mouth. "Uhhhuhhhuhuhhh..." he whines, in pained confusion, only able to move just enough to tightly grip his aching head. It's too much! It feels like his head is literally splitting apart, and a certain mental image of Sollux comes to mind that he really wishes wasn't in his head right now..._

_The spider at work decides to reach out, and close the door behind her-- it's only polite, of course, and there's no reason to invite more fuckery, while she's already addressing one spanner in her works. (Snrk.) Once she's reasonably satisfied with the number of closed windows and doors in the area, she gets on to closing the distance to her newfound prey, focusing more intently on the inside of his mind...

He can feel her voice in his head. The command isn't expressed in tangible sounds and words that he can internally parse, but he can absolutely sense the order, to the point where it's metaphorically deafening, and unmistakably originates from her penetration into his psyche-- specifically, it's to pull that 8ook right the fuck 8ack out of the shelf. "You didn't seriously expect to get away with 8eing so 8razenly rude, did you? No8ody is that dense!!!!!!!!"_ (edited)

_One hand slowly and shakily reaches out to grasp the book, the bare and dull looking thing soon off of the shelf and held in his shaky hand. The tracker was placed on top of the shelf, so it didn't need to be removed--but now his headache was even worse. In fact, blood started drippling from his nostrils. Or where they should be--they were pretty well hidden on his face.

"Aughhhh!!" he screams out in pain, the still free hand gripping the base of one of his ears, as he reaches forward to offer up the book to Vriska. She's deep into his brain--she probably could tell that he knows her, somehow. It's a giant question as to how he would._

_Vriska is trekking through that very part of his mind, although she soon tenses up, and relents, slightly, quickly snatching the book (and chip) out of his hands-- before she releases the pressure on his head, mostly to relieve some of the tension in her own. She absolutely needs to take a walk down that particular memory lane, but not right now; it'd take too long, and she has more important shit to do. Still, the temporary relief in the manipul8ion gives Jack just a little bit of room to move-- not enough to get up for a dead sprint, but enough to at least drop into a more comfortable position. It's quite apparent that her powers have gotten a mite stronger, but they aren't particularly... focused... yet.

In the meantime, Vriska's flipping through the pages of the book, while she issues another command to him-- 'stay down.' Flippy flip flipping, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo-- uhp, there it is, chip acquired, literature discarded. "May8e, if you can't handle the consequences, you shouldn't 8e in this line of work! Most meddlers at least have the dignity to know what they're getting into... 8ut, while you're still here, you can 8e of use to me."_ (edited)

_Jack does nothing but slump to the floor, coughing up just a little bit of blood onto the musty carpet that covered this part of the hallway. Whimpering in fear, and still with a great-big headache, he pants and struggles to take in air. He's got a big brown backpack on him--slowly reaching inside, he pulls out a water bottle that was surprisingly half-frozen, desperately drinking like it was the spring of an oasis.

He stays quiet for a few extra moments, before finally managing to speak. He's got the soft voice befitting of some weird alternate-universe of a Tavros, but a lot more...German? "M-Miss Serket? Vhat are zou doing here? How would you even get here....?" he asks, nice and slowly._

_She wanders about the room, a little bit, mostly trying to find somewhere to get seated-- not that she's unfit for standing, of course, but there's something pleasant about leaning over a floor-bound captive. (In more ways than one.) The voice (and its contents) initially jolt something in her memory, and her eyes widen for a moment, before a name dies in her subconscious... she'll look into that. Later. Right now, she has to deli8er8 on how to answer that question. After a while of unnervingly staring at him-- 'Shut up.' Tight, tight, tight in the throat, too tight--

"My questions are a lot more important than your questions, and you only get to speak when it's important. Get it? Good. You're not so dum8 after all. Who sent you here?" She backs off, to let him breathe, while her arms sift through lengths of hair, settling her locks comfortably on her head, such that it's not pinned against the back of the chair._

_"A-A foundation. Zey...contain stuff...keep people safe..." he says rather quickly, feeling like he's being interrogated on the matter from the CIA or something. At least, that's how effective Vriska's truth serum mindmanipul8ion was.

Jack was so scared right now. Not really for his life--that's kind of a passed subject. It was mostly that Vriska would keep harassing him about this, even if he did give truthful answers. Really, he just wanted to go home and not have to deal with this._ (edited)

She rubs over her chin, for a moment, and turns everything over in her head, before deciding to leave that particular thread alone-- since he wasn't exactly expecting her, this is most likely an incidental confrontation, and an isolated incident. "Well, you seem just a8out useless to them, and I'm sure they'll love to waste time repro88ing you for your failure-- 8ut that comes later. Right now, you're going to 8e useful to me! Doesn't that sound gr8?" 'Say yes.' "I've got to get some use out of this chip, and you're just the sort to get this operation up and running."

"J-Ja, of course!" He would have said 'yes', but it seems like he was a little eager to help regardless. Maybe he liked her? Or it was more likely that he just wanted to see what it does, just as much as her. "Uhm...." He stays quiet for a moment, staring at the floor in solence. What the hell was he supposed to do?

_There's the faintest hint of a smile on spider8itch's face, and it's not entirely involuntary-- she's certainly pleased to see her plans swinging back into her favor, for the time being. Irons in the fire, irons in the fire. But that expression disappears as suddenly as it arrives, of course, to be replaced with a more befitting smirk; she can't compromise her work with too much friendliness. Otherwise, they might just get fraaaaaaaaaternaaaaaaaal! And that has to wait, for now.

"You were sent here to recover this--" She makes the chip visible, again-- "-- right? Get off your 8utt, and get to searching that 8ackpack for every 8it of inform8ion you have. I don't procrastin8, and you won't, either."_

_"R-Right." he says, digging in his backpack. It's somehow able to conceal a rather large looking husktop--or, upon further examination, a human laptop disguised to look as such--and pulling up the file. "I-It's somesing zat any living sing can put into zeir head, und it gives zem ze power to control ozer people mentally. But...zou can already do zat, right...?" He clears his throat, partially worried that thick accent made things impossible to understand.

He continues. "For people zat already can do it, ze effect is amplified, but...n-nobody knows just how much it does..." Jack clears his throat, visibly sweating through his fur._

nods along with this explanation-- ooh, there's some potential, here. One of the notes that that one had left behind for her said something about not being able to get at humans... it does take her a moment to get there, though, because she's digging through the thoughts that lead to him speaking to try and get what the hell he's saying. That accent really needs some work. "... 8y 'into their head', do you mean... surgery? Scalpels? I don't trust you with that kind of power-- I 8arely trust you to get off your ass without falling over!!!!!!!"

"Mind Manipul8ion? I-I sink zat's vhat it's called, right?" He clears his throat, brushing the short fur/hair backwards, mostly as a nervous tic of sorts to keep his mind from wandering too much. "It vould make zat stronger. If zou didn't know vhat it did, vhy vere zou looking for it...?" he asks, slowly rising into a sitting position, on his legs.

... she drops her face directly into her palms, at that one. *"NO, YOU D8PSH8T, I W8S TALKING A8OUT HOW IT'S F8CKING INST8LLED!!!!!!!!"* There's some psychic feedback, with that rage-- undirected towards any particular command, and thusly without much in the way of relief, but it's blissfully short; just an instantaneous jolt of 'No, you fucking idiot.' to help get her point across. (edited)

Jack doesn't do much besides scream in response, mostly since that outburst there also hit him psychically, making his previously faded headache double back at twice the force of last time. Red blood's trickling onto the floor again. "O-On zour neck! Back of zour neck!!" he yells, whining loudly and clutching his ears. God, he's about to 8reak right now, his head hurts so goddamn much.

_Vriska takes a moment to steady herself, once her inquiry has been satisfied, and looks over the chip, unconsciously contorting her expression into one of mild confusion as she does, before she decides that she may as well try to get to work. In the meantime, the brainfuck subsides a little bit... and a little bit... and a little bit...

She parts her hair, and gets her fingers around to the back of her neck... a little bit of finagly finagle finagling, c'moooooooon... there's the sound of a few things clicking into place, and a plug burying itself under skin, before she suddenly throws her head forward, stopping herself with a palm to keep from losing her balance, and doubling over, slightly, as her psyche attempts to adjust to what just happened. It sounds a bit... nauseated. "8lugh."_

_He's crying now, like a fucking grub, hands clutching his head as he tries to not experience as much searing pain. To be completely fair, he did just get assaulted with what might as well be giant-ass speakers, shoved right up to his ears, although it was mostly inside of his own head.

Jack, desperate to be relieved, downs the entire water bottle he was drinking, and then quickly gets a second one. He's basically drowning his sorrows in liquid, but at least it's not alcohol._

_She feels... almost... bad? It subsides pretty quickly, though, or, at least, disappears deep enough not to bother her with its presence. He reminds her of something, someone, with that, but she can't tell what, and it makes her angry, but she puts that aside, too, mostly to focus on untangling what she's just done to herself (and making sure it wasn't a horrible mistake). Eventually, after enough parsing and figuring, she regains her balance and her sense of self-- without puking, too, she's the best-- and leans back in her chair, to try and quiet her stomach.

"Well, you've certainly increased your usefulness a8ilities today! How a8out this-- a 8ounty, some compens8ion, for doing something actually meaningful with your life. I'm going to help you 8e a 8it more useful to me!"_

_"How?" he asks, huffing and puffing loudly. At least he had stopped crying, as the water helped freeze the fucking sauna his brain had turned into. This was so weird--going off to find some mystical artifact in an abandoned universe, only to bump into 'Mindfang', of all people? He still wasn't sure what she was doing here.

Distracting himself from that slightly offputting statement, he scratches the side of his face, drinking just a little more water._

_Vriska rises from her chair-- whoa, the nausea's back, hold up, ghhhhhhhh-- and steps slightly closer towards him, before lifting both palms to her temples, and pressing in with two fingers, each. The scorpio symbol becomes faintly visible on her forehead, as does a particularly odd-looking eye, which blurs in and out of focus-- until it suddenly splits into eight pieces, and becomes very sharp, focusing directly on Jack's forehead.

The background pain of Vriska's manipul8ion fades, for just a moment, before it's replaced with something much, much stronger-- a flashbang for the mind, essentially, painlessly wiping the slate of his current consciousness clean. The felt (snrk) "voice" in the back of his head starts to move... forward? It's hard not to hear Vriska's voice in his thoughts. Or... is he hearing Vriska's voice, or thinking Vriska's voice? There's not too much time to deli8er8 on that conundrum, because another pulse of energy (8ang!) wipes the slate, again._

Ow! Jack flinches involuntarily as his very brain was flashbanged over and over, unable to see or hear anything as he grips it once more. He's been tortured enough for one night, or a few months really, so he'd really appreciate it if Vriska could...stop doing whatever it is she's trying to do? It's less of a thought, and more of a gut feeling, that the spider 8itch has no idea what she's actually doing with that enhanced manipul8ion.

Vriska squints a little harder, and a little harder, scrunching her facial features in as she tries to get to grips with the power that she's unleashing, here... loathe to admit it, that gut feeling isn't entirely far off of what's happening, but she's getting much, much closer, with each passing second. The flashes stop being so painful, each time, gradually losing their abruptness... the distinctions between what the manipul8ion is producing and what his mind is scrambling to piece together become lesser and lesser, as do memories of the last few minutes, and the desire to be 'apart' from Vriska's power over... 'him'... 'her'...? It's 8ecoming a 8it hard to tell which...

Well, at least now she can fucking relax. "God..." is all that comes out, along with some spitting, as a little bit of blood had caught in her mouth. It's dark blue in color, with tiny freckles of red here and there. "My fucking head hurts..." she continues, gripping where hair was rapidly lengthening, becoming much less stiff and a lot more...soft and fluffy, almost. Very well taken care of, even if it's a big fluffy mess.

The true-8lue spider8itch steps back, eyes flung open in surprise-- holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit what is happening-- but she presses on, shaking off disbelief to keep imprinting herself onto... Jack's... no... her other self's... mind, since that's apparently what she's doing now. That is more useful than what he was doing before! The strength of Vriska's influence on her mind grows and grows, as the other's traits start to fade-- fur's receding to reveal discoloring-to-grey skin beneath, some layers of fat begin to burn away, and red eyeballs dull to dark yellow...

Even as the two become basically identical, the one thing she can't really change is the hair color, which sticks to being a dark purple, rather than pure black. Even then, the copy-paste job was pretty damn good. Still on her hands and knees for now, she snickers quietly to herself, as if thinking of a terrible joke to say. "So this is how to improve someone? Just make them you? Resourceful, sure, 8ut I gotta say that it's not exactly the most ideal option." (edited)

Vriska steps back again, and plops right back into the chair, concealing the labor in her breath to a very... poor... extent. The final touches settle in, and, all hair-color discrepancies aside, the differences between Vriska and {Vriska} seem to have disappeared. "How would it not 8e the most ideal option?" Her initial awe at the unprecedented occurrance that's just occurred before her eyes has, of course, faded back to the baseline self-confidence in each and every one of those firebound irons. "You and I know that I am the 8est. There can't 8e any 8igger improvements."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." she says, standing and stretching out. Troll muscles are pretty fucking weird, so she's gonna need to get used to these. Might be why she's wobbling a little bit, as if partially drunk. "8ut a warning would 8e nice! Just dragging me over the deep end without so much as a 'hey, this might sting a 8it'?" That previous accent was still there and obvious, but it was more like background radiation at this point, as {Vriska} goes and fetches her backpack. Or...is it hers? Wasn't it that other kid's? Fuck, this shit is too confusing.

She searches around the room for her own, actually-- shit, where did she put it? Where-- oh, it's under this creaky chair. Someone should lu8ric8 this thing, sometime. Not her, though! She's got more important things to do, like getting out of this house before it spontaneously collapses or something. "I can't waste time asking for silly things like 'consent' when it's time to innov8! 8ut-- more important-- we should get moving. We've got a lot to tend to, don't we, Vriska?"