Togusa (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
standalonehuman) wrote2030-01-27 12:00 pm
standalonehuman) wrote2030-01-27 12:00 pm
Recolle IC Inbox
Togusa
This is Togusa. Feel free to message me at any time.
VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION
[ Koutarou doesn't want to bother Togusa when he's working, so he waits until he knows Togusa is on lunch to call him. ]
Hi Hitori. Do you have a couple minutes?
Hi Hitori. Do you have a couple minutes?
"Afternoon, Koutarou. For you? Of course," the reply is immediate. Togusa gets up and shut the door just in case this is about something more sensitive. "What's up?"
The people he works with are quite blatantly Togusa's weak spot. And some might say he's their weak spot. But individual success is a reflection of strong teamwork, after all. Something a former superior said to him once.
"We can't stop the deliveries until we can find where they're coming from. That's one of our top priorities, before Retrospec just starts handing out weapons to everybody without a care for the local laws."
"But you're right, we need a name and just cause and some more proof before we can get a warrant. We can't solve this guns-blazing. But all the more reason that I have the confidence that we'll do this the right way." He gestures towards Tim. "But also all the reason that I'm willing to admit that we need outside help."
"We can't stop the deliveries until we can find where they're coming from. That's one of our top priorities, before Retrospec just starts handing out weapons to everybody without a care for the local laws."
"But you're right, we need a name and just cause and some more proof before we can get a warrant. We can't solve this guns-blazing. But all the more reason that I have the confidence that we'll do this the right way." He gestures towards Tim. "But also all the reason that I'm willing to admit that we need outside help."
Um... Earlier today I opened a package I got from Retrospec and it contained this notebook, and it turned into a rifle.
Although he is not drinking anything, the first sound Togusa makes in response to that is a startled choking noise. "A gun?" Pitching his voice down. "Retrospec sent you a gun? In the mail?" Let's start there, and then approach the 'notebook' part of that.
Why can't you be reading something in Chinese instead, Togusa? He's learning Chinese for business, not Japanese for various weeb fantasies. But now that he can't really read the kanji, he's a little miffed. What seems similar just gives him a garbled, nonsensical version of the title.
Why is J.D. Salinger written in katakana instead of just simply Romanized is what he'd want to know if he could ask.
"But you have the authority to get the details legally," he reminds, and neither of his hands move for the envelop. He can't seem invested in the material, or he risks looking desperate.
At least Togusa's information checks out. Even hacking the department, Tim didn't find anything either. Which... is strange. He's not sure why he'd have the feeling of belonging to a group that doesn't exist. Like walking into football practice and finding out Recolle High School doesn't even have a team.
"It's okay. I--It's just something I was curious about is all. Heard the name around the university." His smile is an attempt to be jovial. "What are you going to do now? About Retrospec, I mean."
Why is J.D. Salinger written in katakana instead of just simply Romanized is what he'd want to know if he could ask.
"But you have the authority to get the details legally," he reminds, and neither of his hands move for the envelop. He can't seem invested in the material, or he risks looking desperate.
At least Togusa's information checks out. Even hacking the department, Tim didn't find anything either. Which... is strange. He's not sure why he'd have the feeling of belonging to a group that doesn't exist. Like walking into football practice and finding out Recolle High School doesn't even have a team.
"It's okay. I--It's just something I was curious about is all. Heard the name around the university." His smile is an attempt to be jovial. "What are you going to do now? About Retrospec, I mean."
"True," Togusa affirms when Tim reminds him of how far his authority extends. "But it would take time. I suppose I wanted to check in with you before I went that far."
Togusa raises his coffee again and takes a drink because it helps him not start to smirk. Drake, you are so full of crap. But Togusa is guessing that Tim is not going to be the last person asking Togusa to look up something that makes absolutely no sense because it ties in to these strange visions and memories that have been going around.
But he wants to play it that way, Togusa will let him play it that way. He puts his coffee back down. "I'm working with some local private investigators to go through the possible people tied to the names we've gotten of Retrospec employees so far, as well as to put a physical stakeout on the building. I'm severely doubting that either of these efforts is going to turn up anything, but it's like before. We need to verify that no one is going in or out of the building. We need to verify that Jim Halloway isn't just living somewhere in the city. Can't go on what we think is true."
For several minutes, Tim's eyes linger on the envelope on the table, though appear to be staring through it thoughtfully. There's relief that Togusa doesn't pursue his lie, but also some knowing that it'll eventually come back around--maybe. Or that Togusa will just keep it in mind.
Both brows rise before he finally lifts his gaze back up at Togusa, curious.
"What are you going to do when Jim Halloway lives inside the Retrospec building?" A pause. "What are you going to do when Jim Halloway is an advanced artificial intelligence and not actually a person?" Tim's lips twist, a split between amusement and real concern.
"Most of the time," he says, voice low and confidential, "hackers don't slap their fingers on a keyboard repeatedly when they're trying to hack. It's about master and servant. Hackers create programs that do the work for them, just like thieves have their lockpicks.
"For example, hackers trying to bypass passwords run a program that speedily throws together word and number combinations to see which one will 'open the lock.' People dumb enough to have simple passwords like 'flower123' are who bite the dust.
"Anyway: what are you going to do if Jim Halloway turns out to be a moniker for one of these programs? Maybe that's why the application is so butchered. Either 'Jim Halloway' isn't getting the right input, or 'Jim Halloway' has a serious bug.
"Point is, you're still not going to find Jim Halloway. Not physically."
Both brows rise before he finally lifts his gaze back up at Togusa, curious.
"What are you going to do when Jim Halloway lives inside the Retrospec building?" A pause. "What are you going to do when Jim Halloway is an advanced artificial intelligence and not actually a person?" Tim's lips twist, a split between amusement and real concern.
"Most of the time," he says, voice low and confidential, "hackers don't slap their fingers on a keyboard repeatedly when they're trying to hack. It's about master and servant. Hackers create programs that do the work for them, just like thieves have their lockpicks.
"For example, hackers trying to bypass passwords run a program that speedily throws together word and number combinations to see which one will 'open the lock.' People dumb enough to have simple passwords like 'flower123' are who bite the dust.
"Anyway: what are you going to do if Jim Halloway turns out to be a moniker for one of these programs? Maybe that's why the application is so butchered. Either 'Jim Halloway' isn't getting the right input, or 'Jim Halloway' has a serious bug.
"Point is, you're still not going to find Jim Halloway. Not physically."
Togusa leans back and folds his arms as he considers what Tim is saying. He knows that Tim is right in theory, but..
"I'd follow you on this, but you're forgetting how we learned about Mr. Halloway in the first place. A big, goofy, public love confession wrapped up in a warning about the next change we were experiencing. You don't take the time to program in love if what you're making is, what, an information-gathering bot? He said he was Research and Development? What would that translate to?"
"Are we going to find a guy named Jim Halloway? Still probably no. But I'd bet the safer money on there being a person to find behind the name. Is he physically in that building? Again, betting on no, but we need to take the time to make sure."
"But that cloud server you found, it doesn't necessarily have to be tied to the building, either, does it?"
"I'd follow you on this, but you're forgetting how we learned about Mr. Halloway in the first place. A big, goofy, public love confession wrapped up in a warning about the next change we were experiencing. You don't take the time to program in love if what you're making is, what, an information-gathering bot? He said he was Research and Development? What would that translate to?"
"Are we going to find a guy named Jim Halloway? Still probably no. But I'd bet the safer money on there being a person to find behind the name. Is he physically in that building? Again, betting on no, but we need to take the time to make sure."
"But that cloud server you found, it doesn't necessarily have to be tied to the building, either, does it?"
Naturally, Tim doesn't seem convinced. He's too skeptical. Too cautious. "Any good programer trying to pass a program off as human will find a way to implement natural human attributes," he reminds.
Carefully, he leans back in his seat, folding his arms low across his stomach. "No," he confirms reluctantly, "it doesn't have to be since it can be accessed by anyone that is given clearance. Or, like, has an account.
"Why distract us with a fake building, though? That just sounds as if they've got some worse stuff to hide."
Carefully, he leans back in his seat, folding his arms low across his stomach. "No," he confirms reluctantly, "it doesn't have to be since it can be accessed by anyone that is given clearance. Or, like, has an account.
"Why distract us with a fake building, though? That just sounds as if they've got some worse stuff to hide."
"But when does it cross the line, then? Does the programming ever get too good? Can you program in individuality? Let alone self-identity, awareness of another? We're back to that 'ghost' idea, all the things that, supposedly, you can't program in." He shakes his head. "There's somebody at the keyboard."
"That's actually my next move, personally," Togusa tilts his cup towards himself. "The building. Construction permits, zoning ordinances, a leasing agreement, something had to get signed with somebody's name in order for that to happen. And, with luck, all that stuff is public record. Just need somebody willing to take the time to go through it."
"Like I said earlier, patience."
"That's actually my next move, personally," Togusa tilts his cup towards himself. "The building. Construction permits, zoning ordinances, a leasing agreement, something had to get signed with somebody's name in order for that to happen. And, with luck, all that stuff is public record. Just need somebody willing to take the time to go through it."
"Like I said earlier, patience."
The nerd that he is, Tim wants to vouch on the side of science fiction, but he keeps his mouth shut, lacking substantial evidence. Maybe someone had finally figured out a way to create artificial intelligence with a complex, individual consciousness. But no one had ever seen it, so that's irrelevant.
"Retrospec could be padding the pockets of anyone organizing that kind of data." Already running into the roadblock with the app and its security, Tim is leaning on that being the case.
But maybe if keeping quiet was the only part of the deal, Tim can find out information his own way. Strangely, Tim seems boosted again in morale, enough to start drinking the iced coffee.
"Retrospec could be padding the pockets of anyone organizing that kind of data." Already running into the roadblock with the app and its security, Tim is leaning on that being the case.
But maybe if keeping quiet was the only part of the deal, Tim can find out information his own way. Strangely, Tim seems boosted again in morale, enough to start drinking the iced coffee.
[ Koutarou nods, even though Togusa can't see it. ]
Yes... Sort of...
[ It wasn't a gun when it was delivered, but turned into one after it was unpacked. ]
Yes... Sort of...
[ It wasn't a gun when it was delivered, but turned into one after it was unpacked. ]
"Sort of," Togusa repeats. He runs a hand over his face. "All right. You know what? I'm coming to you. You're going to have to show this thing to me." He is already grabbing his jacket.
"On the plus side, you said it was a rifle? That's- easier to get registered up than a handgun." Oh man, this is not okay if Retrospec just dragged a guy as peaceful as Koutarou into whatever game it is they're playing with the weapons.
"On the plus side, you said it was a rifle? That's- easier to get registered up than a handgun." Oh man, this is not okay if Retrospec just dragged a guy as peaceful as Koutarou into whatever game it is they're playing with the weapons.
"Not gonna find out until we look at it," Togusa shrugs. But Tim seems in better spirits, closer to where Togusa is at. "It's not a dead end yet. We're going to keep going through it all."
"That does leave up the question of how much more you want to be involved, though. You're not contracted, but my group is still lacking someone with your skill set that knows about the app. I'd tell you that your instincts with the server were right, don't do anything that puts you or your personal equipment at risk."
But what is Tim in this for? Does he just want his answers? Togusa laid out his priorities pretty clearly the last time they met. "But if you want out, now's a good time to press the eject button."
"That does leave up the question of how much more you want to be involved, though. You're not contracted, but my group is still lacking someone with your skill set that knows about the app. I'd tell you that your instincts with the server were right, don't do anything that puts you or your personal equipment at risk."
But what is Tim in this for? Does he just want his answers? Togusa laid out his priorities pretty clearly the last time they met. "But if you want out, now's a good time to press the eject button."
"Yeah.. Ah, okay. I'm at home." He didn't want to take the thing out of his apartment, even after managing to figure out how to make it change its shape back to being a notebook, and practiced just a little so it didn't change on accident again (even if he still got a little startled every time it changed shape).
"I didn't know that. I suppose that's good, at least... Even if owning a weapon never was a goal of mine." Chuuya might think it's unfair that Koutarou got a gun while he got a knife, or something like that, but Koutarou is pretty different from his cousin that way. Weapons are not cool.
"I didn't know that. I suppose that's good, at least... Even if owning a weapon never was a goal of mine." Chuuya might think it's unfair that Koutarou got a gun while he got a knife, or something like that, but Koutarou is pretty different from his cousin that way. Weapons are not cool.
"Yeah, this whole thing has made me go back and get a huge crash course in weapons laws in this country," Togusa mutters unhappily. "Hang on, I'll be there soon."
It's not a hard excuse to rush out and check on a situation, because, frankly, he is. He really doesn't want to get his best friend charged with a felony, so he grabs some of his recent notes from his review of the laws he'll need.
Togusa is breathless when he knocks on the atelier door. "All right... Let's take this from the top."
It's not a hard excuse to rush out and check on a situation, because, frankly, he is. He really doesn't want to get his best friend charged with a felony, so he grabs some of his recent notes from his review of the laws he'll need.
Togusa is breathless when he knocks on the atelier door. "All right... Let's take this from the top."
"It's become useful to know, huh.." Particularly for the people in law enforcement, he supposes. "Yeah, I'll see you soon."
He opens the door and moves to the side to let him into the hallway, which is just as neatly arranged as the rest of the apartment (except for the sketchbooks and pencils and erasers readily available in case of inspiration striking). There are plenty of paintings and photographs on the walls, nicely arranged, and in the living room corner the portrait of his mother that stands on the little home shrine is angled toward the window as usual.
"You didn't have to run or anything...." But that was his choice. "So," He closes the door after Togusa has come inside. "I got a package a week ago or so, but I forgot about it until I came back here earlier today. When I opened it, it was a notebook but when I looked through it, it changed into a rifle."
The rifle in question is in notebook form now, on top of the kitchen table. Nothing weird happened to the clothes so he put those in the closet. But the notebook is absent of any writing, and the cover is dark purple with a hot pink stripe toward the top.
He opens the door and moves to the side to let him into the hallway, which is just as neatly arranged as the rest of the apartment (except for the sketchbooks and pencils and erasers readily available in case of inspiration striking). There are plenty of paintings and photographs on the walls, nicely arranged, and in the living room corner the portrait of his mother that stands on the little home shrine is angled toward the window as usual.
"You didn't have to run or anything...." But that was his choice. "So," He closes the door after Togusa has come inside. "I got a package a week ago or so, but I forgot about it until I came back here earlier today. When I opened it, it was a notebook but when I looked through it, it changed into a rifle."
The rifle in question is in notebook form now, on top of the kitchen table. Nothing weird happened to the clothes so he put those in the closet. But the notebook is absent of any writing, and the cover is dark purple with a hot pink stripe toward the top.
Togusa steps inside, and it's just automatic for him to leave his shoes at the door before padding in. He's always liked it here, hasn't spent much time here as of late. Hmm, needs to change that.
But, rather than his usual mode of looking around at everything that Koutarou is working on, he is drawn right to the point. He walks over towards the notebook, and looks at it dubiously, turning his head one way and the other to look at it from all angles, but he doesn't touch it. His mouth forms a line, and he scratches at the back of his head. "I completely believe you. But-"
And every ounce of confusion and emphasis that he can put comes out in this word: "How?" He holds his hands out helplessly. Because this is so far beyond Togusa's understanding of the way the world works.
But, rather than his usual mode of looking around at everything that Koutarou is working on, he is drawn right to the point. He walks over towards the notebook, and looks at it dubiously, turning his head one way and the other to look at it from all angles, but he doesn't touch it. His mouth forms a line, and he scratches at the back of his head. "I completely believe you. But-"
And every ounce of confusion and emphasis that he can put comes out in this word: "How?" He holds his hands out helplessly. Because this is so far beyond Togusa's understanding of the way the world works.
"It's weird, isn't it? It really startled me when it happened before."
He pulls one of the curtains in front of the window just in case. "I don't know how it works but, it just does." And he reaches out, awkwardly picking up the notebook and takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to make it change, but he thinks it would be good if Togusa saw it. So he lets his concentration flow into the cover and papers, until it changes form in his hand. He sighs in relief when it does as it changes as it should, but his grip on the handle is tight and nervous. "I don't know why either, but when I talked to Chuuya about it earlier, I remembered? having used it before, though reluctantly."
He pulls one of the curtains in front of the window just in case. "I don't know how it works but, it just does." And he reaches out, awkwardly picking up the notebook and takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to make it change, but he thinks it would be good if Togusa saw it. So he lets his concentration flow into the cover and papers, until it changes form in his hand. He sighs in relief when it does as it changes as it should, but his grip on the handle is tight and nervous. "I don't know why either, but when I talked to Chuuya about it earlier, I remembered? having used it before, though reluctantly."
Togusa jumps when it changes, just as promised, and he stares at the gun for a long moment, like he's trying to see how a magic trick was done. Nope. That just happened. And his friend is now holding a (still slightly purple?) rifle. Togusa looks between Koutarou and the gun a few times, trying to wrap his head around this all. As strange as that just was, the sight of Koutarou with a gun is just as strange, feels just as wrong.
"You weren't kidding."
That feels so inadequate to the situation, but it is taking Togusa a minute to catch up to this. "You're- You remember using it?" Maybe the memory is more important than the rifle's origins. We can get back to that. Togusa takes one last glance at it, and then focuses on Koutarou again.
"You weren't kidding."
That feels so inadequate to the situation, but it is taking Togusa a minute to catch up to this. "You're- You remember using it?" Maybe the memory is more important than the rifle's origins. We can get back to that. Togusa takes one last glance at it, and then focuses on Koutarou again.
Of course I wasn't kidding is nothing that he says, because he never thought that Togusa thought he was kidding.
"I do..." He puts down the rifle on the table. Even if he remembers being able to use it effortlessly, he is far from comfortable with it right now. If Togusa wants to take a closer look on it though, he's free to. "It was only a very brief memory, and I couldn't see who or what I was fighting." The thought of it though... He doesn't want to fight anyone.
"I do..." He puts down the rifle on the table. Even if he remembers being able to use it effortlessly, he is far from comfortable with it right now. If Togusa wants to take a closer look on it though, he's free to. "It was only a very brief memory, and I couldn't see who or what I was fighting." The thought of it though... He doesn't want to fight anyone.
Koutarou's discomfort is obvious, and Togusa is trying to get a lid on his own unease. His friend, well, his friend was almost a fighter, if his father had his way. And he didn't want that life. So anything that drags him back in that direction makes Togusa a little protective of Koutarou.
Togusa snatches up one of the rags that Koutarou keeps around for cleaning before he picks up the gun. Force of habit to not touch it directly and put his prints on the weapon. The first thing he does is flip the gun over and lifts it to examine the underside of the barrel very closely. What he finds, or doesn't find, brings a sharp frown to his face.
"No serial number. Not that something like this could probably be registered anyway." Not again. "But it's old." What on earth is the mechanism on this thing? He peers at the chamber carefully.
Togusa's brow is creased sharply as he puts the gun back down. "I don't want you to get in trouble. I'd have to look up the laws on it, but we could probably get you paperwork on this as a decommissioned antique." But now his friend is in the exact same mess that he's in. Togusa's cheek twitches, but he has to fight that down. Help Koutarou first, get angry later.
Togusa snatches up one of the rags that Koutarou keeps around for cleaning before he picks up the gun. Force of habit to not touch it directly and put his prints on the weapon. The first thing he does is flip the gun over and lifts it to examine the underside of the barrel very closely. What he finds, or doesn't find, brings a sharp frown to his face.
"No serial number. Not that something like this could probably be registered anyway." Not again. "But it's old." What on earth is the mechanism on this thing? He peers at the chamber carefully.
Togusa's brow is creased sharply as he puts the gun back down. "I don't want you to get in trouble. I'd have to look up the laws on it, but we could probably get you paperwork on this as a decommissioned antique." But now his friend is in the exact same mess that he's in. Togusa's cheek twitches, but he has to fight that down. Help Koutarou first, get angry later.
As Koutarou has not inspected it closely, he didn't know it didn't have a serial number. Not that he knows much about serial numbers on guns, like where to look or how they're given, or anything of the sort.
He knows though that Togusa knows far more about these sort of things than he ever will know, and he nods slowly. "You're the one who knows how the weapon laws might work... If that's what it would have to be registered as then I will do so, though I don't really know what papers one fill out..... Nor did I ever think I would need to know."
He knows though that Togusa knows far more about these sort of things than he ever will know, and he nods slowly. "You're the one who knows how the weapon laws might work... If that's what it would have to be registered as then I will do so, though I don't really know what papers one fill out..... Nor did I ever think I would need to know."
"You shouldn't have to know." The words come out before Togusa can stop them. The look on his face stays one of pure worry. "Why are they dragging you into this? To- give you something like that?" He breathes out a quick sigh.
"I can get you what you need. Just, call it an antique, claim it doesn't work anymore. Because, well, we'd be telling the truth about it. I can't imagine it would be fired." Not in Koutarou's hands. It's just too alien to what he knows of the man.
"Weapons laws are in place to protect people. Both the people who are unarmed, and the people who have weapons that they might not know how to use. This- it's not a danger. It's not to do with just keeping you from getting in trouble. Register it that way, and it'll all be okay." Now, is he saying that to Koutarou, or to himself?
"I can get you what you need. Just, call it an antique, claim it doesn't work anymore. Because, well, we'd be telling the truth about it. I can't imagine it would be fired." Not in Koutarou's hands. It's just too alien to what he knows of the man.
"Weapons laws are in place to protect people. Both the people who are unarmed, and the people who have weapons that they might not know how to use. This- it's not a danger. It's not to do with just keeping you from getting in trouble. Register it that way, and it'll all be okay." Now, is he saying that to Koutarou, or to himself?
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