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[oedipusrat]

Leave me something, if you must.

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[oedipusrat]

Now I can't decide if I hope you succeed or fail.

All right. If letting go scatters you to the corners of the network, perhaps we should think of it as technopathy in reverse. How did you get here? Could you use the same sort of trick to hop back into your body?

[spottedprick]

Apparently I have that effect on people - making them want to punch me, I mean.

I touched the computer and entered the network. I didn't enter a specific site or area, I just...

Dove into the middle of it all, I suppose.

[oedipusrat]

Not nearly as much as James, I assure you. And I give him a good run for his money. His fists can attest to that much.

Is your device against your person? If there's some way you could jump through, say, electrical impulses, that might be useful.

[spottedprick]

Given your history together? Not that surprising.

I'll give it a shot.

[After some time of swimming through the network and finding his computer he tries to find where his hand must be touching the device and he's almost got it when a particularly shiny string of data goes shooting past, distracting him and making him break the connection again.]

Oh shit.

[oedipusrat]

That did not sound like a good oh shit. What happened to focusing, dear?

[spottedprick]

[Starts getting agitated.]

There's too much information, I can't shut it out.

[oedipusrat]

Then that is something else you'll have to work on when you're back in your body. You are information; you are yourself data. You needn't let other strings of code that are not relevant to you grab your fancy.

I could see if I can somehow move you? If you are some nice big data packet, I ought to be able to do something with you, at least.

[spottedprick]

I'm old data. It's not interesting to me.

I'm not sure I like the sound of that. What exactly are you proposing?

[oedipusrat]

Now I wonder how to make you interesting to yourself. [Terrible ideas, really. All of them are terrible.]

You move like data. Data can be manipulated. It can be altered, or moved, or removed, etc. If I can get a hold on you, perhaps I can force something instead of letting you dart about on your own getting distracted.

Or would you rather I just come over and see how interesting I can make your body?

[spottedprick]

Are you suggesting you have some fun with my more or less unconscious person in the pretense of making myself more 'interesting'? I don't see how that would work.

[You can almost hear the eye-roll in Q's text.]

If you can find me in the network that might work, but I thought you said you needed a great deal of concentration to interact with specifics? Won't this be a bit troublesome for you?

[oedipusrat]

You're no fun sometimes, did you know that? Maybe you'd rather have James play with you.

Oh, my not-so-clever boy, I imagine that with time and practice, this won't be nearly so troublesome. Besides, what kind of technophile would I be if I gave up this opportunity? Now, would you like me to fiddle or not? You could always hop back to my device, but do try not to worm your way into my body.

[spottedprick]

I don't want anyone to play with me.

I'm not sure that's how it works, though it would be interesting if I could hack a person's mind just based on electric pulses... In any case, yes, I'd be grateful if you'd give it a shot.

[oedipusrat]

Then keep still. Don't go shooting off where I have to chase you.

[It does take concentration to do, though he's never found himself sucked into the data. Shuffling through files is one thing, another to type without typing, and certainly another to pinpoint a specific bit of data in a specific machine. Q happens to stand out among the rest--to be fair, an entire consciousness really ought to--but he's not sure what to do with the data packet of a lad. Much of the time he feels like he's not really doing anything, it just...happens at a whim. He doesn't see the device as a physical presence to move Q closer to or away from anything, but layers of coding. What would be 'closer' in that case? He'll just try yanking Q, making him budge, first.

Ugh. This will need cooperation, won't it? Silva doesn't play well with others.]

Anything?

[spottedprick]

[Lets out an indignant squawk that translates into jumbled code flying around. Q feels a bit as if he's going to fly apart and in Silva's view the mass of data that makes up Q will fluctuate as if ready to dissolve into multiple pieces.]

A bit, though that felt quite uncomfortable.

[oedipusrat]

I will try to be more gentle. Most code doesn't feel.

So far as I'm aware.

Can you guide me where I need to put you?

[spottedprick]

Just a moment.

[Glances around and tries highlighting the general data pile that makes up his home computer.]

Can you see that?

[oedipusrat]

[In many ways, this is a grand opportunity. He won't gloat about it now, but being given a taste of free access, more or less, to Q's computer? Not that he couldn't hack into it, he's sure, with a little trickery, but still!]

I think I understand where you are going with this.

[He suspects they don't see data in the same way, from these two perspectives, but he can 'see' well enough what Q is indicating. True to his word, he is much more careful this time in moving Q, nudging anything useless out of the way as he moves the data packet that is the young quartermaster into the computer proper.]

Better?

[spottedprick]

[Q knows better than to trust Silva but he also knows that in this state, where's essentially merged with the network, he's more capable of defending it against Silva. He lets himself be pushed and takes a breath.]

Much. Now if you could just... hold me here. I'll try to find my body through the computer.

[oedipusrat]

[He's still half considering pinging James, just in case, but for the moment, he'll refrain. What he might do is try to rummage around for the computer's specific location in the City. You know. Out of concern, or...something.]

Try not to get distracted as you do. And make a point of not doing this again if you can at all help it.

[spottedprick]

I shall endeavor to do so.

[Leaving Silva to 'hold' him against his computer, Q quickly hunts down the separate 'unit' that must be his body, the electronic pulses present but otherwise not containing the clear data of computers.]

I think thi

[Before he can finish the sentence he's sucked back into his body and it's a painful jolt, suddenly feeling so much sensation and his body's exhausted because it's been in the same position without moving for over a day and he collapses to the floor, letting out a choked cry of pain and curling into himself.]