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[The journal turns on with a little crash, revealing... the ceiling. Yes, very exciting.]

Stop knocking things over!

[A small, furry black face saunters over to the journal, sniffing curiously. It meows. And then, turning, flops over right on top of it, covering the camera.]

Hey, cat, get off that, it's not your damn bed.

[A small trill, and the fuzzy thing rolls over, revealing a mildly irritated redhead.]

...What the hell? You actually turned it on? Hey, dreck, the cat's from the Dawn Age.

[His tone is even mildly amused for that one. He brushes the kitten off the journal, picking it up and half-closing it. Before it shuts, he reconsiders, then grabs the pen and scribbles out a note.]

[Written / Filtered to Dist]

I need to talk to you.

[There, that's good enough. Back to the whiny, needy little monstrosity who has moved on to making his own water dish into a cat bath. Surprise! Luke brought home a kitten for his very disgruntled original. What a wise decision this was, eh.]

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[If Dist had voiced his thoughts, he'd have gotten a very different answer. Still, he's mostly right- a lot has changed.]

You're the scientist, and you're the one who asked to study me. Tell me what you can do.

[He knows nothing about this, beyond the physical changes he's experiencing- or has experienced. If Dist wants to toy around with fomicry, he'll have to suffer the ever-changing condition of a live subject. That's just how it goes.]

What I can do, Asch, is what I have been doing for the past few months - buying you time. For the moment, that's all I'm capable of, unless you ask the Malnosso for a miracle. I still hold to the fact that the Big Bang is an irreversible phenomenon, though I will have a word with Jade if I'm able to get a hold of him. He should have more answers on the matter at hand.

[Dist shifts his weight, then gives Asch another long and searching stare. he hates having to devote so much time on someone like him, but he can't lie that the subject is a challenge he wants to succeed on.]

You'll allow me to do that much, I should hope? And run a test or two involving your hyperresonance... I pray you at least can control it to a very limited degree, correct?

If you can't do anything to change this, I'll accept that. But I'll keep looking, even if you decide to give up. As for my hyperresonance- of course I can control it. I've been learning how to do that for more than seven years.

[What does Dist take him for, an incompetent replica or something?]

[The same can be said for you, Asch! Dist scowls, and glares at the mention of "giving up" who the hell did this little brat think he was talking to?! Dist's not going to just quit unless it's proven again and again that the Big Bang is irreversible. And even then he'd have to exhaust every possibility.]

If you believe I'm incapable of doing this, Asch, then I suggest you do take to researching on your own. If not, then I suggest that you shut your mouth and let me do my work! I'll quit when I've done every possible thing to be done, and no solution is found.

Now, I want to measure your heart rate when you use your hyperresonance - if it increases or stays the same. Just some simple tests to determine how it effects your body. [He moves toward a lovely looking little heart monitor, running his hand over it almost affectionately.] I'll need you to remove your shirt. This needs to be in direct contact with your skin.

Oh, and before I forget...I will need a sample from you and your replica again, to determine for fact if your fonons are fuzing together somehow.

[Asch scowls; what did Dist expect him to- no, settle down. No reason to cause a fuss over something like this. He unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on a nearby chair, and does his best to mask his discomfort. At Dist isn't as likely to harass him about the scars the way Xion did. So he'd almost died, big deal. Coming to Luceti spared him, so why kick up a big fuss?]

Take the sample, then. I'll get one from the replica later.

[Dist certainly does stare, and even cocks a brow in mild shock and confusion...but other than closing his eyes and pushing up his glasses, he says nothing, and presses their business onward. That's how the God-general worked best, after all, without knowing each others' backgrounds. And what business of Dist's was it to inquire about Asch's scars? He didn't care half as much as the young man's friends...though he was curious, and assuming the worst. What secrets are you keeping from everyone, Asch?]

I'll take your sample when you deliver your replica's. If I do so now, it may be compromised. [If you give him a blood sample, that is.] From your replica, a mere hair sample will suffice, so there's no need to go stabbing him again,Asch. Now, hold still a moment...

[And Dist will then place the heart monitors on Asch's body. At least he's taking care not to touch those scars too much. Isn't he such a nice guy?]

[Well, staring is better than some people, but Asch isn't saying a word about it. He remains still, one hand resting on the desk for balance, and waits for Dist to finish.]

I can bring you a sample later, then. ...And I didn't stab anyone either, it was a spar.

[Hair isn't nearly as fun to collect, though.]

Yes, yes, of course...

[Dist only half pays attention, finishing up his work quickly, but being very careful not to place any of the metal pieces wrong, or in spots where they wouldn't be as effective. After a second or two, the machine actually begins to register Asch's pulse and the faint beep of every heartbeat fires up quietly in the background. Dist watches it for a second, then looks back to Asch. It was a little faster than normal, but Dist assumed it was because Asch wasn't comfortable. Whatever, he'll just start the test from here.]

Burn a hole through the wall if you could. A small one. I'll tell you to increase the size if necessary.

[He removes a notepad and pencil from a drawer. The wall should just repair itself if damaged, so he could care less. If not...oh well.]

[Asch nods and glances around briefly, then chooses the closest wall, hands lifting. After a moment of careful concentration, a silver-orange glow appears between his hands, shooting out towards the wall. When he lowers his hands, a neat hole about the size of an orange has been burned clear through.

Hey, he's been getting better at pinpoint shots. Score.]

...Well done.

[He actually means that sincerely; Dist had been observing Asch all through his use of hyperresonance, scribbling thing onto his notebook about what he could see outwardly. Not much, really, other than the glow, but Dist knew that was normal.

After that's done with, and he inspects the hole as well, Dist turns his attention to the monitor. Not a staggering difference, but Asch's hear rate did increase a little bit. He notes that down though, just in case. In this field, nothing can be taken for granted - even assumption.]

How do you feel, Asch? Anything abnormal?

[Asch glances over at Dist, surprised by his first comment and - at first - suspicious. Someone like Dist didn't just toss out compliments willy-nilly, and Asch isn't even sure that it wasn't meant to be mocking. Whatever, though, if Dist wants to weird him out or mock him, he's certainly gotten Asch's attention either way.

He glances down at his hand; hyperresonance has always left a bit of a burn on his hand afterwards, so he gives his fingers a good flex and a small rubdown, brows furrowing.]

Not unusual. You should know that when I'm hyperresonating, it's when I feel the most healthy.

[Probably why he's reluctant to surrender the power completely- it's a selfish aspect to the necessity of taking advantage of such immense power. If it can offer some relief from the frequent seizing up that his body is prone to do, it just makes it all the more tempting.]

[Dist watches as well, like a vulture, and raises a brow once Asch looks down at his hands. That...could be problematic. Even if he said he didn't feel strange, anything and everything needed to be taken into consideration. Hyperresonance was extremely dangerous, and for a single person to be able to force it out at their will...it wasn't something to abuse.]

My research and I beg to differ...but so far, I see nothing out of the usual. However... [Dist approaches Asch and holds out one hand, the other holding a tiny instrument, looking kind of like a miniature stapler.] Let me see your hands, Asch.

[Miniature stapler, really? Why does Asch not like the look of this? He asked for it, though, so reluctantly he offers out his hands to Dist. His hands are pointedly more red than the rest of his skin, but otherwise the marks of hyperresonance aren't terribly prominent.]

[~~Shut up, I didn't know how to describe it.~~ basically, it's very similar to this (http://www.diabeticdrugstore.com/products/small/4712147.jpg), only its purpose is different. Dist takes Asch's hand in his and...after frowning at the look of his hand just with his eyes alone, he pricks one of the boy's fingers with the small device. It shouldn't hurt too bad - like being bitten, maybe, by a small animal - and will end in a few seconds.

Any complaints Asch may have will be purposely ignored as Dist removes the slide, with blood and tissue sample, from the teensy instrument and places it onto a telescope.]

Mm...though I suppose there isn't much to be desired by you using your hyperresonance, Asch, I do advise that you at least do so with caution...lest you lose your hands at the least. You're killing the fonons on your palms, to a variable degree, with each use. They will, of course, reform, but prolonged use of your skill could be permanently damaging. ...Other than that, I do see that your fonons are separating a slightly increased rate from before. It's nothing serious, however, from what I can tell today.

Though... [Nggh, he hates to say this.] I think we should meet more frequently, especially if your pains persist and become stronger.

[Oh yeah, he sounds so thrilled. Asch glances down at his hands, scowling, then shrugs his shoulders.]

How often, then? We didn't stick to the schedule last time.

[Permanent damage... he flexes his hands a few times, feeling the stiffness of his fingers. Enough to prevent him from using hyperresonance anymore? Or... would it become so severe that he'll no longer wield a sword?

...Will he even live that long?]

[Dist finishes up with his slide, writes down a few quick scribbles - which he underlines to get to later - then turns to Asch and thinks. They really hadn't stuck to their schedule very well, and though Dist didn't want to spend too much time with someone he greatly disliked...]

Once a month, provided we are both available. And if you happen to need me before then, contact me. As for my overall diagnosis...you appear to be in good health. Your fonon separation has increased from when we last met, but from what I see, it's nothing to be too concerned about.

...You're not dying, if that's what you're afraid of. You still have time left to live, Asch. Ample time.

[Asch falls silent again, rubbing at his wrists as he ponders the implications of that. Not dying? Not yet, or not at all? Or is it something impossible to predict? The second option would clear up so many fears, but at the same time, he's not even sure if he could force himself to trust such a verdict. He's lived with the shadow of his own death over his shoulder for so long now.

Better to just wait it out, then. With an idle shrug, he retrieves his shirt, pulling it back on.]

One month, then. I'll avoid using hyperresonance when I can.

[Dist sighs at Asch's nervous behavior, though it really isn't something he's not used to. Of course the he's afraid to die - he's not ready for it. And even if he did within the next few months, Luceti would prevent true death, and only bring him back once more, perhaps to suffer again. How sick...to continue an endless cycle like that, if it were really the case. Even if Asch is a wretched and abhorrent little tyrant, Dist wouldn't wish that upon him. ...Today, at least.

He organizes his papers as Asch dresses and nods him out the door.]

Very well. I'll see you in one month, then.

[Right, right. Asch considers responding - reconsiders once, twice, then shrugs it off - before turning away, lifting a hand to wave idly as an acknowledgment as he heads out. He's never thanked Dist, and he's not sure he could in light of the fact that this man is in part responsible for his life going completely to hell, but... well.

Dist doesn't have to help him, so it wouldn't kill him to be a little appreciative. Hmm.]

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