acatalepsy_rpg | video, after the caverns

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video, after the caverns

So, correct me if I'm wrong about this.

[Hank doesn't bother with an intro, just starts right on in. The angle he's holding his wrist shows both his face and the stick he's dragging along the wall behind him, which has been in a fire at some point in the recent past and leaves a long black trail of ash over the wall as he walks.]

But when all you heroes trooped into the haunted caves under the mysterious freaky lake the communication plan was along the lines of, 'gee, if someone gets their feet ate off by some freaky bullshit I sure do hope they yell real loud so I can get there before they bleed out' right? I mean, I trust you guys know to make a post letting us all know if you need backup, but what if this- [Here the screen shakes as Hank wiggles his wrist, indicating the watch] -gets busted, or stolen, or whatever?

I don't know, I was just thinking, next time a bunch of us, or just anyone, goes into something that might get bad there should be some kind of post stuck to the top of our feed that we could all check, just something like this-

[He stops walking, still talking as he starts to scratch a little list in ash onto the wall beside him.]

Hey, I wonder how little Suzy's doing. Oh, she checked in an hour ago, she's probably fine.

[He writes Suzy on the wall, and a checkmark next to her name.]

How about JimBob the Murder Bot? Oh, he hasn't checked in for about seven hours, I should take someone to go look for him.

[Next to JimBob the Murder Bot he doodles a little skull. Sorry Jimbo, it's hard out there for a figurative probably-dead robot. Better luck next time.]

Or maybe you guys would rather do some kinda daily role call like in school or, hell, maybe it's just more fun to lone wolf your way through all this world saving shit, what do I know. Decide amongst yourselves. I might be around, I might not. Just thought I'd throw this out there. I'm gonna go eat.

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[ daylight's audials pick up on the muttered words and his winglets, in turn, visibly flick up in confusion. he isn't a robot; he's a mecahnoid! those are very different things where he's from.

but the question that's actually aimed at him manages to distracts him from tackling that possible conversation path. (for now. daylight is really curious now.) ]

Um! Yeah! I can! Meddy, my friend, will probably be keeping tabs of recording and stuff when I get around to it. [ it's worrying how daylight says 'when' and not 'if' in this sentence. like he's really going to commit to breaking his own device for the sake of science! because someone has to. ] Is there anything I should be trying to do in particular, mister? Look for the limitations of how sturdy it is? How much range it can get? Anything like that?

Mister, sheesh.

[This guy's design is totally baffling to Hank. It's the way the design contradicts the personality, really. It's weird. It doesn't feel like it matches the way he'd expect it to. Fucking mister, gee willikers.]

Well, golly, uh. I guess... Let's see. If this were back home, we'd need to know what kind of shit could interfere with the signal, and at what range, and all that. We'd need to know how easy it was to hack and access files and fuck people's messages up, though uh, I don't know how much of a problem that'll be. With that thing after the caverns I think we can assume you don't need a watch to tap into whatever network these things use, but I kind of figure whatever sent us that message used freaky magic shit to do it, and I'm assuming that's kinda outside your skillset, what with the whole vibe you've got going there. Unless you're a magic robot, in which case I'm probably gonna want to go lie down for a while.

[That would just be Too Much, okay? Either of those things individually are enough. That would be a lot.]

[ daylight nods along to what the man is saying, looking pretty serious. he’s sure he can figure out interference and range easily enough. he's helped out enough in the science and technology sectors to see how those sort of tests are done. more or less. he's not sure about the other tests, but he could always ask for help if those angles really need to be covered.

but, out of all the things that he had said, daylight picks up this as the most important thing to address: ]

Just so you know- I can’t use magickcraft. [ not from his understanding, at least. ] That’ll be some Elders of the Old Religions. Like Elder Faithborne or Ser Lost-in-Stars.

My dad had the possibility to wield and I should, too, in theory but, um, I guess mom being human cancelled it out.

[ that… that is going to be a lot to unpack.

sorry, hank. ]

[Hank stares at the screen.

Hank stares a little bit more.

Hank rubs his hand over his mouth. Then he rubs it over the rest of his face. Then he stands up.]

Hey, I know we got a lot of important planning to do, but I just remembered: I got a real important appointment with a bottle back in my apartment. If I don't kill every one of my brain cells by midnight I'll turn back into a pumpkin so uh...

[He gives the screen a bright, overwhelmed smile. Behind his head the scenery moves; he really is heading back to his room.]

I mean, feel free to keep making suggestions if you want, I'm not going to hang up on you, but I'm sure you understand how important the stuff I gotta do is. So. You got any questions about any of those tests you wanted to do, probably ask em in the next, uh... Half hour, maybe.

[ daylight stares back, his puzzled expression becoming more and more faintly worried as he listens to the man speak.

the bit about needing to kill every brain cells is what gets daylight the most flustered and worried. he frowns, not bothering to hide the concern that is evident in everything of day. ]

I don't think it's the right time to be the drinking?? [ his expression becomes a little distant and vacant as he summons his internal clock to his hud, wanting to check the time.

it's a little unsettling to see him become so still after being the definition of chipper and excited but, thankfully, it doesn't last for too long. ] -I knew it! The hour isn't right and stuff. It's not Happy Hour yet, mister!

[He doesn’t do more than glance at the watch, the arm it’s strapped to sinking a little lower as a surprised laugh barks out of him.]

Hey, robots have happy hour too, huh? Great! Neato. How’s that work, you all line up real nice at a bar and drink for exactly one hour and then go back to work? What’s robo-happy hour like, is that when all that human-bot mingling happens?

[ daylight's optics fitz rapidly - his equivalent of blinking a lot, it seems.

he seems a little unsure of how to handle this situation, clearly not used to having a conversation with the man in front of him. there's a lot to unpack from the questions and he's not sure where to start. oh man oh man- where's dialup when you need her? ]

Nooo... Happy Hour means, you know, you can go out to bars and pubs and stuff and, um, drink and have fun with others. Usually at night. [ he spent many an evening with his grandma when she went out to cut a swathe for the party scene. he misses those 'secret adventures' he had with her, even if he wasn't allowed to have anything due to his sensitive filters and tanks then.

and, you know, him being a child. ]

I don't know what you mean by 'human-bot' but Galateions adopted the concept of Happy Hour after learning about it from Earth. [ one of the best things to get from earth, apparently. ]

So robots do have happy hour. Swell. But they don't, you know, mingle, you don't know what that means either? Cause it kinda sounds like your parents did. Or is that not how-

You know what, nevermind, there's only so much forgetting a guy can do and I don't want to spend all mine on a coma dream drug trip telling me all about the birds and the bots. You can keep that part to yourself.

[ he really, really doesn't know how to answer this.

it takes him a few seconds to realising what the man is implying and he reacts immediately and emphatically. very very emphatically. ]

Eeeeew. No! No! [ he wrinkles his nose while the winglets bap against his back in agitation and disgust. at the same time he recoils from the screen, as if he had just gotten struck and is trying to avoid getting hit again.

a bit dramatic but, well, given the circumstances- ] Of course not! That's not how they- No! No way! Mom and dad had the courting process and everything and- Wow, mister, why would you think they...??

[ ???? ]

[Hank eyes the screen, deeply unimpressed. Only one of them has an excuse to be grossed out right now, and that one of them is Hank.]

Exactly what part of that are you eewing about? Cause from where I stand the courting thing still ends in gross shit, it just takes longer.

[A part of him knows that, hey, following this topic? Still a bad idea. But there’s only so much nonsensical bullshit Hank can take quietly.]

Yeah it could have taken longer, but at least it implied my parents had class and patience and stuff before they decided to- [ he stops before he can complete that sentence.

daylight could argue about this more - he's argued about weirder things, he knows - but does he really want to go down this rabbit hole? one that involves him being forced to imagine his parents... doing stuff... with each other... does he?

does he really want to do that?

...

....

.....

yeah. no. ]

Mister- Can we agree to just, like, never speak about this topic with each other? Ever again? For long as we live and can draw breaths?

Edited (wrong icon!!) 2018-10-25 09:05 (UTC)

Hey, be happy to. Be cooler if you could go back in time and not put the idea in my head in the first place.

[He opens the door to his room, the camera briefly showing its contents - a messy bed with a big dog on it - as his arm moves.]

But hey, we can't have everything we want, can we? Not even when it comes to stupid magic bullshit.

All I did was mention my mom and dad! I don't know how we ended up with-

[ dog.

dog dog dog.

dog dog dog dog dog.

dooooooog. ]

You have a doggie!! [ everything is thrown out the window in the wake of day seeing a dog because it's a dog! a pupper! a big pupper at that, if he's remembering his dog sizes correctly. the dog is certainly bigger than daisy.

daylight presses himself up against his own screen, trying to get a better look at the dog. ] Hey buddy! Buddy! Hi! Hey! Hello! Hiiii! Are you there?

Are your circuits rusted?

[Hank says it a little like an accusation, mostly as an honest question. First that mister shit and now this.]

Or did someone just decide to put a kid AI into an action figure body and you’re what happens?

[Hank sighs, then swings the view out toward the Saint Bernard shaped lump on the bed again.]

Fuck it. Say hi, Sumo.

[If Sumo’s saying hi, he’s being very subtle about it. He doesn’t even lift his head; he just looks from Hank to the screen on his wrist and back again, his tail thumping a couple times against the wall beside him.]

Ohmygosh! That's such a cute name! Hey there, Sumo!! [ daylight's, er, day is officially saved by the dog's presence alone. the fact the dog is reacting at all is enough for him and look at the big guy! sumo(!!!) is so big-!

then what the man said earlier registers to day. he pulls back from the screen - thank goodness - and huffs a bit. ]

And no- I'm not a kid. [ he puffs out his chassis, his winglets poised proudly behind him. ] I'm a hundred and eighteen. That's old enough where I'm from.

[ ah yes. the ever vague 'old enough' daylight throws out when he doesn't want people to find out he's a teenager, more or less. ]

[Sumo's tail thumps again at hearing his name and, after a moment of stillness and quiet, the screen moves closer to him as Hank approaches the head of his bed, then tilts at a weird angle as he bends to reach for the bottle behind it.]

I... really need to be drunk right now. Have I mentioned that? Why do you keep saying this shit?

... Huh?

[ daylight can't help frowning but, this time at least, it's more of puzzlement than annoyance. he forces himself to (reluctantly) redirect his focus from sumo(!!!) to back to the man, more than a little confused now.

he tilts his helm to the side, optics flickering in his equivalent of rapid blinking. ]

Say what?

Stuff about...

[He pauses, thinking about how to say it, and throws himself back onto the part of the bed Sumo hasn't claimed, scooting back to lean against the wall.]

You, I guess. Just you. Your crazy weird freaky shit. I mean, I like a good long existential crisis as much as the next guy but if you try to tell me anything else about your uh, personal life I'm going to start sending you my therapy bill.

[While he was talking Sumo's been shifting around to set his head on Hank's legs - well, maybe his knees, technically, but a head that size kind of covers most of the bottom half of both his legs. The camera shifts to show Sumo again as Hank reaches out to run a hand slowly over Sumo's fur, murmuring to himself.]

Thanks bud.

[ day’s confused expression soon crumples up into a scowl, something about the words rankling him. ]

I’m not freaky. [ that's the only thing he's going to say on this matter. if the man doesn't want to talk about it than fine. daylight won't be talking about it too, seeing that no one is going to be having a fun time with this topic.

... directly, at least. ~~daylight no-~~ ]

I don’t know why you seem to be taking it so badly, mister. Others here have been handling it well. Like Connor and Akira and Miss Jing and the rest in the Circle. They're- They're taking this okay.

[ and miss jing is from a much, much earlier era too so. ]

Well, great! That's wonderful! Thanks for telling me how much better than me everyone is at settling in here in coma hallucinationville. But if you're saying there's something there to take okay in the first place, then you're pretty much admitting that you're freaky. Sorry kid, but it's true. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You expect me to talk to a walking kid's cartoon and act like this is something that should be happening, like I'm not losing my fucking mind? Nah. Can't do that.

[Hank looks at his bottle, tapping it against his knees. When he said he needed to try to get drunk to deal with this - ie, someone looking inexplicably not human in his general vicinity - he meant it.]

The sooner you accept it, the better off you'll be. Isn't that what they say?

... [ daylight stares down at the device for a few seconds, his optics flickering from what seems to be distress and shock what had been just said to him. slowly, but surely, his face screws up and up and up with more emotion until-

he bursts into noisy 'tears' and the sobs undeniable as he begins to cry there and then.

and while he may not be able to cry in the conventional sense - there's no tears running down his face, doesn't seem like he's capable of doing that - but it's clear he's distressed and upset now, genuinely so. the screen suddenly and violently swirls about as daylight covers his face and continues to sob, the sound ragged and hurt.

clearly hank's words hit home. ]

What?

[Hank holds up a hand, palm toward the screen, and whether he means it as a 'stop this shit right now' gesture or a placating one, even he's not sure.]

Look, don't- What- What the fuck...

[That last part he murmurs to himself, staring at the screen where the - yeah, the kid's cartoon, that part wasn't wrong - where the fucking living cartoon is bawling its eyes out right in front of him. The kneejerk guilt he feels doesn't do a damn thing for the dislocation, the sense of wrongness that talking to things that can not exist stirs up in him, it doesn't even slow it down. It just puts a new spin on it; can you feel guilt for hurting the unreal feelings of an unreal, hallucinatory thing?

Yeah, it turns out. Yeah.

Hank looks at the screen for a long couple seconds. Then, you know what, he takes a long pull from his bottle, gasps as it burns down his throat, tries to focus more on the burn than what's coming out of his watch, and feels a teeny, minuscule smidgen more stable.]

Look, uh, if it was - what a part was it that, uh- I mean, you're not that-

[He is, though. He is that. Hank regroups. He tries again.]

Look, just cause you're the freakiest thing I met so far doesn't mean, uh- I mean, I met a guy today who can turn into a fuckin robot lion and fly around like, on little jetpacks or something, I guess, so he's at least as freaky as you are uh, half the time. The lion half.

Shit, what was it that even set you off? It wasn't even that bad, what I said, was it? I didn't even say anything.

[ rip poor hank. he just wanted to drink and pass out for a little while.

for a few seconds, daylight’s crying only worsens. it seems he's beginning to frantically scrub at his optics, if the sudden, jerky motions that his device is recording can be believed.

but, mercifully, the crying lessens. there's an occasional hiccup and a sniffle but- it seems like daylight isn't in hysterics anymore.

he finally pulls his servos from his face to look back down at the device. there are no tears running down daylight's face - thank goodness, too, since that would look a little eerie - but there's no denying he looks upset. the glow of his optics are dim, so dim they're almost. ]

I’m not— I’m not a freak. [ that seems to be the thing that sticks with him the most, the hiccups getting in the way of his talking. ] I'm Daylight and I'm— I'm Daylight and I'm—

[ he sniffles again, a warning for another possible crying fit. ]

Edited (thank you for the heads up!!) 2018-11-12 13:42 (UTC)

[Hank cuts in, hurriedly.]

Yeah, yeah, you're Daylight and you're - you're great! You're, uh...

[Compliments, god, Hank sucks at compliments, he's always avoided the hell out of those kid androids and there's more than one fucking reason for that, the relevant one being that the kid gloves he used to be maybe okay at using on people don't really fit so well anymore and he just doesn't want to deal with robot tears, like, at all. And this whatever the fuck kind of robot it is needs those kid gloves, boy does it ever. God, compliments, Hank doesn't have time to figure something out, the first thing that comes into his head will have to do.]

You're more than meets the eye! [Oh, god. Fuck, just go with it.] You're- you're really, uh... polygonal! Just like a transformer ought to be. And, uh. Shiny. I can almost see my reflection in your, uh-

[Oh god. Would a crying robot be worse than hearing this come out of his mouth? Hank's not sure. Hank's having doubts. Hank's just going to take a big drink from this bottle right here, okay? Yeah. Cool. This is fine.]

[ congratulations, hank!

despite all odds being stacked against you - and with how dangerously close it seems for day to simply burst into noisy tears again - somehow and someway, what you said towards the large metal teenage robot is working.

thought not because the compliments are flattering him. if anything, the more day listens to hank speak, the more and more he looks confused by what is being said.

it gets to the point daylight forgets about the urge to cry, now in favour of staring at hank like's the stranger between the two of them. his helm begins to tilt to the side, as if that will help him understand hank better. (and, spoiler alert, no. it doesn't. it does keep him from focusing on how unhappy he had been a few seconds ago, at least?

small victories?)]

I'm sorry but- [ he grimaces, unhappy with how rough he sounds there. he's quick to reset his vocoder, shooing away the built up of static and white noise with a mimic of how someone would clear their throat. ] I'm sorry but I'm a... I'm a what?

video, after the caverns

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