[Abel is pulling on his gloves as Cain settles in behind him. It does feel good, almost like Abel tooled around with what he felt like whenever they touched. Safe, electric, warm, right-- the fact that they're holding hands in Cain's bed probably only adds to the experience, and Abel has to take a moment to lean gently backwards into Cain's arms and enjoy his work. This program isn't built for extracurricular activity so to speak... but Abel has always wanted to fuck on a beach.]
The answer is both fascinating and a little terrifying, truth be told. [Abel finishes putting on his gloves.] How we interact with our environments outside of VR is based entirely on signals that our brain receives and processes-- sight, touch, smell.
But brains aren't perfect. They can be tricked by things like anesthetics for example. Anesthetics don't prevent pain, they prevent the signal from reaching the brain, and so in essence we don't feel it. All of this is piggybacking on the implant, which sends signals to our brains that we're reading text or viewing an image. I've only made that more complex so you can not only see the images, but I can tell your brain what it's like to feel the breeze here, or smell the morning air. It's all signals and chemistry.
But what you feel, how you're reacting to all of this-- that's entirely in your control. [Abel kickstarts the motor and it immediately starts with a crack and growl, settling into an eager rumble under them. When he'd driven them in New Tokyo, Abel had still been emotionally struggling and unable to find true joy in anything. But here, something certainly shifts. He drums his fingers around the handles and leans in, ready to tear up the hill.]
no subject
The answer is both fascinating and a little terrifying, truth be told. [Abel finishes putting on his gloves.] How we interact with our environments outside of VR is based entirely on signals that our brain receives and processes-- sight, touch, smell.
But brains aren't perfect. They can be tricked by things like anesthetics for example. Anesthetics don't prevent pain, they prevent the signal from reaching the brain, and so in essence we don't feel it. All of this is piggybacking on the implant, which sends signals to our brains that we're reading text or viewing an image. I've only made that more complex so you can not only see the images, but I can tell your brain what it's like to feel the breeze here, or smell the morning air. It's all signals and chemistry.
But what you feel, how you're reacting to all of this-- that's entirely in your control. [Abel kickstarts the motor and it immediately starts with a crack and growl, settling into an eager rumble under them. When he'd driven them in New Tokyo, Abel had still been emotionally struggling and unable to find true joy in anything. But here, something certainly shifts. He drums his fingers around the handles and leans in, ready to tear up the hill.]
Say when.