Disclaimer: Synapses don't own shit.

Author's Note: AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH! *picks up The Super Cattle Prod of Doom* fizzle. Drat it, it's out of juice. Thanks for the loan anyhow Bookworm Gal. Golden Roya, my apologies, this is not really the chapter I promised you, what, a year ago or so? It seems that He Who Refuses to Muse and Now Won't Shut Up lost my amusing blueprint. So you're stuck with this. Quality Control passed it, and while I am highly suspicious of her current powers of concentration, 1 rejected chapter, 5 partial chapters, and an untold number of abandoned starts, I'm darn well posting it. Even if I'm worried the QC is currently under the influence of baby brain. Sigh, so many good opportunities for fun AN stories missed…Tales of the New Roommate, the epic battle of car vs ditch, the internship that wiped the floor with me (but I still passed), the fact that I am now an aunt…Could my narrators please start cooperating? I'll sic my niece on you, she's lethally cute. Beguiled away all my writing time when I was in the same province as her…

Sigh. Sorry for the very long delay folks, I will endeavour to get my muse back on track. *glares at chapter* I really don't like this one. Three bloody months to write…

...

It had been so easy once: a question, a thought, a diversion of attention, an idea that would spark, grow, flow, join with other thoughts, form a chain of logic, and evolve into concepts. Tangents would develop, be chased down, followed, lead to theories and hypotheses. Variables to be pondered, explanations to be examined, accepted or discarded, studied in depth, reimagined, reformulated, tested and re-tested. The beautiful process of creation, of knowing, of taking abstract thought into concrete reality, so simple it had been before his synapses were broken…

…Synapses were such funny things…

…in that time lost beyond the rainbow. He had been eager then, annoyed by the O.Z.'s view of technology, the way it ignored the sciences in favour of a magic solution. Ambrose had sought to fill in the gaps, to reconcile the forces of the universe, to understand how they functioned, interacted and interconnected…

…the pooling of input from alternate sources affecting the resultant output…

…physics was not to be forgotten, nor was the light. Both must be considered, measured and calculated, combined if anything were to be created. A balance must be created between the oft opposing forces, an equilibrium carefully maintained in the most complex of devices, those that were the most helpful…or destructive when twisted…

….Brains and tin men didn't go together…

…The TDESPHTL hadn't been meant to be a torture device, and the stasis unit prototype had been intended for preventing food spoilage …

…the heartless always tried to shoot the brainy…

Othersiders had a saying: necessity is the mother of invention. Not so in the O.Z., here there were other ways. What need was there for healers with in depth knowledge of bodily structure and function when there were Viewers on hand to heal with a touch? Best leave it to them as they could See their way clearer - until war came to the O.Z. and not a Viewer was to be found outside the clutches of the enemy, leaving the resistance to fight blind. No more instant healing, necessity was a harsh teacher, but then soldiers had always the best knowledge of anatomy – they'd needed to know where to shoot or stab after all…

…That couldn't be right. That couldn't be right. That couldn't…

…Of course, the cop was fond of the saying about curiosity and the cat, but the Royal Advisor couldn't help but find the brain so fascinating…

…The meeting of axon terminal and dendrite branch the microscopic chemical switchboard in the propagation of the electric signal…

…but then, so had the Alchemists…

…the ultra-tiny cracks in the nervous system, far too miniscule for any zipper to close…

…and now there was self that was not self. There had been no room for self in the jar, just the relevant cortex, the necessary memories, the correct pathways and thought processes…

…relaying information to and from the central nervous system via excitatory or inhibitory outputs…

…self would not have been safe in the jar, too vulnerable, unable to affect the Realm as a mere bundle of cells…

…where tiny molecules passed electrochemical messages from one neuron to the next…

…self had to stay with the body, with the keeper of self, the not self built from the empty shell of the life that was Ambrose, the other that both did and did not share the experiences that had made the Royal Advisor himself. The self restructured, his existence gutted, his character traits reorganized, reprioritized into a him that wasn't him – self had sacrificed his brain to protect the O.Z., not self had reclaimed it to save his friends. Saving the Realm was incidental…

…like so many tin men and their little dogs, too…

…Not self was a glitch in the system, an unanticipated, moderately functional compilation of synapses…

…were a junction between cells where tiny molecules passed electrochemical messages from one neuron to the next…

…with an operating level well above normal. Headcases weren't generally expected to live very long. Robbed of true self, of life skills, and often of basic reasoning, the Alchemotimized individuals had lacked crucial survival skills, had limited ability to care for themselves, and without aid most hadn't lasted an annual. The Sorceress' O.Z. hadn't been one in which aid was often given freely, and helping zipperheads was dangerous – you never knew who or what they had been.

Ambrose had been lucky. Those other few headcases who had survived the war had been remanded into the gentle care of the Viewers – where they would no doubt remain for the rest of their lives. There had been only one case of marbles in jars; once their secrets had been stolen their annihilated minds had been discarded. The Sorceress had not been one to leave the slightest ray of hope lying about if she could help it. Much as the Royal Advisor hated to see his inventions turned on those he served, the Sunseeder (which was not a foolish invention, he didn't care what certain farm cop Othersiders said about the global effects of messing with the growing season – even if a certain farm girl princess backed him up), or rather the Anti-Sunseeder, had saved him, not only in preserving his severed brain hemisphere, but in keeping his synapses…

…over which neurotransmitters were fired across…

…active. Glitch, meanwhile, had survived, the not self thriving, finding friends, finding the princess, finding the truth and his marbles, helping to defeat the Sorceress, save the O.Z., reclaiming said marbles…

…and sometimes they argued…

…and sticking around afterward to annoy the ever loving self out of self.

…and sometimes they argued…

Faulty corpus callosum repair was Ambrose's theory.

…and sometimes they argued…

The Royal Advisor's right hand shot out to smack him not self squarely across the jaw, breaking the glitching loop before it became paralysing. His left hand quivered momentarily, as if considering joining the fray…

…well they did…

…before subsiding along with his other self, leaving Ambrose in full control once more.

It wasn't that bad, he supposed, there were certain benefits to having two selves to a whole. One never got lonely, for example, or bored – not that he'd ever got bored before, but this way he was guaranteed an intelligent conversation of equal…

…Synapses were such funny things…

…near equal…

…The meeting of axon terminal and dendrite branch…

…mostly intelligent…

…the microscopic chemical switchboard in the propagation of the electric signal…

…vaguely resembling intelligence…

…the ultra-tiny cracks in the nervous system, far too miniscule for any zipper to close…

…had that thought already…

…over which neurotransmitters were fired across like so many tin men and their little dogs, too…

…two hundred and fifty-six times…

…what? Neurotinmen? That couldn't be right. That couldn't be right. That couldn't…

…today…

…be right. Brains and tin men didn't go together…

…oh, shut up…

…the heartless always tried to shoot the brainy...

I'll look down...

…Synapseswereajunctionbetween cellswheretinymoleculespasse delectrochemicalmessagesfrom oneneurontothenext, ,thepoolingofinputfromalterna tesourcesaffectingtheresulta ntoutput:sometimesthecombinationofsyn apsesamplifiedtheensuingsign al,sometimestheydeadenedit…

…oh, hey, look at the ground! Isn't it so very far away?

…and sometimes they argued! The other self shrieked as he dove for the amygdala.

Admittedly, that hadn't been the nicest thing to do – Ambrose didn't like bullies any more than the next person – but Glitch responded to the merest thought or mention of synapses-

Synapses were such funny things…

-like a clarion call, and the Royal Advisor couldn't just not think about things. Besides, looking down (yipe!) was its own punishment. True, he was developing a newfound appreciation for heights – best thinking time he'd had in over a decade – but like his mental counterpart, he couldn't quite feel easy about the hole in the floor. It was a ridiculous waste of space, eliminating most of what should be usable floor – providing an excellent view of the earth below without to anything to prevent you from getting a much closer look. Given that the munchkin basket was currently suspended from the highest tower of Central City Palace, that wasn't a force-mass-acceleration equation that Ambrose cared to demonstrate.

Good thing, then, that the Tin Man had secured both the hanging basket and Royal Advisor with plenty of rope, thus preventing either from following the path of gravity, no matter how much wind there was. And Alchemist was there wind – the woven branches were currently beating against the palace with a steady-

Rhythm!

-Ground (yikes)!

…Ambrose may have a new, understandable fondness for heights, but it was doubtful he was ever going to enjoy wind. At least he knew ropes tied by Cain would hold – the Royal Advisor was often of two minds (literally – seriously, I will start calculating the force of impact) regarding the Tin Man but he never doubted the man's competence. Just his sanity. Especially when he got that look in his eye, that psychotic, enraged, vengeful, imminent doom-

-the heartless always tried to shoot the brainy-

-look that indicated overzealous punishment was forthcoming. Which was entirely unfair-

-princess barhopping incident-

-I had nothing to do with that. Self had quite strenuously pointed out to not self, with emphasis regarding the possible dangers entailed – especially those involving the eldest princess – what a bad idea the entire scheme represented. He'd have drawn a graph had someone spared him the time. Though to be fair to Glitch, the two princesses were a combination guaranteed to rob the Royal Advisor of the very capacity for intelligent synaptic conductance in very short order – particularly if they wanted something. The Tin Man could have considered that fact before meting out punishment to innocent, well mostly innocent, bystanders, alas that he was just as powerless as anyone when faced with the princesses, and deities knew Cain had to punish someone.

There was a reason the Tin Man was on Ambrose's list of the most highly illogic and irrational beings of the O.Z. He wasn't particularly high on the list – the entire munchkin race made sure of that – and the Royal Advisor would admit that most of his decisions did stem from perfectly rational motives and conclusions. The only trouble was that Cain's personal traumas, psychosis, – Boy Scout Syndrome – and general paranoia resulting in his behaviour promptly exiting all normative parameters and heading straight into the Realm of the Unreasonable. It was completely counterproductive to treat the symptoms while coddling the cause after all.

Probably didn't help that the cause of Ambrose's currently multi-faceted mixed predicament (because he really was enjoying the comparatively unbroken thinking time, his thoughts were mostly being annotated, really, rather than interrupted) was the current holder of the number two spot on the list. Personally the Royal Advisor felt it was not the Crown Princess' fault: she had obviously spent too many annuals in the Realm of the O.Z.'s most illogic and irrational being – though technically he wasn't actually a denizen of the O.Z. – an experience that had evidently done irreparable harm to her judgement and decision making process. Leastwise, Ambrose was only aware of one other person with a similar penchant for the random climbing of trees…

…and what was that about anyhow? Both halves of the Royal Advisor's brain had been wracking the synapses - !...don't even think about it – and not even Glitch could fathom the reason behind climbing a tree that was neither fruit bearing nor a more reliable means of ascent than, for example, the stairs. What they were lacking, unfortunately, was basically all relevant facts that might possibly allow him to infer motive for an Othersider in a tree. That was the problem with observational studies, there was no knowing causation, only correlation, and apparently policemen in trees correlated precisely with the kind of disaster that Gulch was becoming known for.

It had been rather interesting to track his process: one minute he'd been in the tree testing the tensile strength of his chosen branch, the next instant he'd been demonstrating that force-mass-acceleration equation the Royal Advisor was so anxious to avoid. About the time the cop was demonstrating the concept of inertia, with particular attention to forces required to stop an object in motion, Ambrose had found himself agreeing with Gulch: physics hated him, that or gravity loved him so much it was ever seeking a closer acquaintance. A whimsical thought that the rather disgruntled Royal Advisor had regarded with suspicion and would have blamed on the zipperhead if it hadn't been for the abrupt disappearance of the cop. Ambrose recognized the eldest princess' handiwork when he saw it, and that had been the end his observations for the day.

Glitch hadn't been particularly happy with having control foisted on him whilst looking down (hey!), but then the headcase was rather unreasonable on the subject of irrational fears for a man who'd given a three week long lecture on phobias to a certain noble idiot not too long ago. He could harp on the innocence of Azkadee all he wanted, not self hadn't come into existence until after the 'little brain-ripping incident'. Glitch hadn't been the one on that table watching them…waiting for them to…

…and was self the only person to have noticed that Princess Azkadellia was getting scarier these days? She'd been so meek and retiring after the Eclipse that Ambrose had felt a complete lion for being even a little (a little?) afraid of her, but recently…recently even not self had to admit to being scared.

Do not.

He would if he was being honest.

My synapses may not fire right but my memory is perfectly…what were we talking about again?

The fact that both selves are equally afraid of the eldest princess.

Am not.

Submarine incident.

Doesn't count.

Does, you were afraid the princess wanted to kill you.

I was afraid they all wanted to kill me, and they did, you were the one that decided to run.

It's called survival instincts, look them up, they're in the hindbrain. And it all goes to prove my point…

Wait, you had a point? When did you make a point?

…that Officer Gulch clearly had a destabilizing influence on the eldest princess' mental state…

I don't remember this point, did you make while I was napping in the motor cortex?

…and his tenure as guard commander ought to be reconsidered.

You didn't make it out loud did you?!

Look, ground.

…Nope, I find your point far more terrifying and dangerous than any minor altercation with terminal velocity.

See, you are afraid of her, and the commencement of princess' aberrant behaviour can be directly traced back to the time of the Othersider's arrival in the O.Z.

…

Observation of dramatic mood swings has been increasing in frequency, all of which can be correlated with interactions between princess and cop.

…

Not to mention the recent incident that resulted in a foolhardy drinking binge and our subsequent banishment to the top of the north tower.

…

There is therefore sufficient evidence to suggest that the policeman should be removed from Princess Azkadellia's vicinity.

Hey Ambrose, I looked up those instincts you were talking about, ever notice the hindbrain is fairly close to the visual cortex? You know that thing that is supposed to be interpreting input from your EYES?

Like the visual information regarding the distance from our feet to the ground?

I think it's nice having Gulch around.

I didn't mean that…stop that, it is entirely unnerving to have the sensation of being stared at by one's own brain…you're just so…so…so caught up in a glitch right now.

Sighing, Ambrose tucked his not self away in a cosy sulcus and decided to take advantage of the chance to finish his thought.

He hadn't meant that Gulch should be entirely removed from his position – current data showed a statistical decreased incidence of attempted regicide since the Othersider had put the eldest princess' protection detail together. He was obviously having a positive effect on the security of the Realm…even if he did have the disconcerting tendency to use logic and common sense in an argument without having shown any indication of applying the concepts to real life…

…but that wasn't the point. The point was that with a few careless words, the man in charge of her safety was capable of rendering the eldest princess utterly miserable. Glitch may not have noticed while he was busy further disrupting the synapses with alcohol, but, shielded by the amygdala, Ambrose had. The Royal Advisor knew what it was like to have his mind wrested from his control, to have his very self turned from the path self would have chosen, and while the residual not self was a nuisance, at least it was a benevolent nuisance. Officer Gulch meant well, but if his presence was going to upset Princess Azkadellia, maybe it was best he guarded her from a greater distance. She's already been through enough…

…why did he feel like there was a headcase staring at him like he was the biggest scarecrow in the Realm?