The singer's voice was a soft croon, the Miralukan absently flicking her fingers, the volume raising in the workroom. The song was sad and melancholy, mournful, and the woman moved through the lab with a sway of hips, almost dancing to the beat. The skirt was split and she wore a pair of lose pants underneath, twisting her heel and rolling her neck, fingers fanning out as her arms spread in the arm, graceful. She discounted the possibility of surveillance and simply lived in the moment as she worked, humming along with the song.
She'd done a variety of projects while at the Estate but had returned to her medical work, rekindled with a new passion from her talks with Lord A'sinder. Their work dovetailed well and it made her want to stretch out to new heights, new horizons, and new symptoms.
Aran had always been a student of sorcery as much as alchemy, and her years of medical training - Force and mundane - meant she knew the ways to twist and tweak just enough. Knitting Runna's mind together had brought a whole new possibility to her work - was it possible to induce that fragmenting? Quickly, easily, with the Force?
Segmenting emotions by manipulating the limbic system was one thing, exacerbating one emotion so that it overwrought the target but was it possible to make someone entirely consumed by an emotion without her virus as the medium? Was it possible to quickly induce that fragmented personality Runna evidenced?
And if the answer was yes, what could she do with it? She frowned as the song ended, another twisting of fingers shutting the music down so that she could hum on her own, soft but pitch perfect. She was already weaving knitted commands into Runna's fragmented mind in order to put her to sleep - could she put commands in to trigger one emotional response?
She wanted a trained mind to try it on now. Her work on her second virus now seemed to have halted but she muttered in frustration before turning back to it. She couldn't stop working on it now that she had a new avenue to look forward to - she needed to continue to show results.
Otherwise she'd risk losing patronage, power, and she'd be right back where she started. You just traded one set of chains- but that thought she stopped. No, she was free through her own actions. Her determination would claw her back the rank she needed to act and operate freely.
Setting onto her stool she hooked her feet on the bar running around the circumference of the legs and tapped her fingers against the desk. A dragging of fingers into the air brought up the molecular structure of the latest virus she had been working on, turning it with a twist of her hand. Something was missing every time she ran it through the creation phase. Something that left it breaking down into an inert form too easily. It barely had time to spread before the host was useless. It burned through its victim - well, projected victim, she was keeping this one in simulator until it was operating correctly - and ran them out but was too... well, the listed effects were reputedly gruesome.
She poked and prodded the proteins, the twisted strands until she started to work in another modification based on her first work and then it clicked. "Yes..." she breathed, leaning forward as she worked. Link that there and allow that to bleed over... durable, spreading, but still with her required need to burn out if it moved too far from the battlefield.
Now the challenge was to make it a small enough particle to get through filtration systems. She dragged the stool closer, leaning over the terminal while she worked.
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