fuck1ngusernam3 (
fuck1ngusernam3) wrote in
acatalepsy_rpg2018-09-07 03:34 pm
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video | dated at the very end of week one
[The video opens on a patch of dirt, a leg stretched out along one edge of the screen. Next to the leg a number of very small muddy spots map out a connect-the-dots picture that more creative minds - or just anyone who's ever been a bored teenager - might recognize as a sort-of accurate depiction of one particular x-rated body part. A voice, cracking and hoarse like it has to drag itself over gravel to get its words out, starts speaking immediately.]
Hey, you know what makes me-
[His coughing is harsh and wet but it's only a few seconds before it stops. Hank mutters a curse under his breath, just audible, and hacks up a loogie, spitting it so it lands just so off the end of the art in the dirt next to him. The dirt there goes wet and dark, and with this artistic rendering of a drop of splooge, his masterpiece is complete. When he leans back the camera's in a different position; in the opposite corner from the dirt the screen shows the massive head of a Saint Bernard, taking up a good part of the screen and the majority of Hank's lap.]
You know what makes me feel better when I'm feeling like shit? Bitching about it. Let's bitch, guys. Tell me how shitty you've got it right now. It's not like anyone's got anything else to do here, right? I mean, not unless someone can get this big furry boulder to unglue itself from my lap. I'd have something to do if he'd just play. Look, watch this, it's pathetic.
Hey, Sumo. Fetch.
[Anyone with motion sickness might want to look away; the screen jerks around wildly as the arm with the camera on it moves to grab a rock and hold it in the air like Hank's going to throw it. Then the screen goes still again as Hank has to lean forward to cough, his dog's big, placid face now taking up the whole view. Sumo gives a single low whuff, lifts his head, and apparently settles himself right over the camera because the screen goes dark. There's the muffled sound of Hank cursing, trying to say Sumo's name between coughs, and then nothing as Hank manages to work his other hand under Sumo's jaw and shut the recording off.]
Hey, you know what makes me-
[His coughing is harsh and wet but it's only a few seconds before it stops. Hank mutters a curse under his breath, just audible, and hacks up a loogie, spitting it so it lands just so off the end of the art in the dirt next to him. The dirt there goes wet and dark, and with this artistic rendering of a drop of splooge, his masterpiece is complete. When he leans back the camera's in a different position; in the opposite corner from the dirt the screen shows the massive head of a Saint Bernard, taking up a good part of the screen and the majority of Hank's lap.]
You know what makes me feel better when I'm feeling like shit? Bitching about it. Let's bitch, guys. Tell me how shitty you've got it right now. It's not like anyone's got anything else to do here, right? I mean, not unless someone can get this big furry boulder to unglue itself from my lap. I'd have something to do if he'd just play. Look, watch this, it's pathetic.
Hey, Sumo. Fetch.
[Anyone with motion sickness might want to look away; the screen jerks around wildly as the arm with the camera on it moves to grab a rock and hold it in the air like Hank's going to throw it. Then the screen goes still again as Hank has to lean forward to cough, his dog's big, placid face now taking up the whole view. Sumo gives a single low whuff, lifts his head, and apparently settles himself right over the camera because the screen goes dark. There's the muffled sound of Hank cursing, trying to say Sumo's name between coughs, and then nothing as Hank manages to work his other hand under Sumo's jaw and shut the recording off.]
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He raises his eyebrows, giving a small, pointed smile, moving his arm just enough so the camera shows the ground underneath his butt, his lap, and Sumo resting on it.]
Too bad they didn't think about sitting down first.
You don't got to pick up after everyone, you know. We're all adults here, a guy does something he knows might end with him falling on his face, hey. You've got no obligation to help someone out of something they knew they were getting into.
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[ It's more like an instinctive need to assist humans, but when he stops to think about it, 9S is aware he's got his own programming to blame for that. He's grown to be frustrated about it from time to time, but there are days where it doesn't hurt to lend a helping hand. The circumstances they're stuck in is one of those times. ]
... Is it really okay? It's not gonna get worse if you stay out there?
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[He shrugs. Here it is, the result of over half a century's worth of experience and some degree of mental development.]
I never got any of that, 'oh, you're not supposed to stay out in the rain or you'll get sick' or you know, any of that old wives bullshit. It's a nice day, isn't fresh air supposed to be good for you?
Why, you always stay inside when you're sick, just like you're supposed to?
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Uh—no. I mean, I can't get sick like you humans do. It's my first time seeing this kind of affliction happen to people, so I'm not really sure how these things go.
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Oh, uh. What kinda... not human... are you?
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An android, actually. Don't worry—I get that a lot.
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[He says the word really slowly, feeling his way through it while he tries to figure his shit out. They were kind of just in the middle of a nice, polite conversation, it's not like he can just stop.]
Uh, is that why the whole- [He gestures at the blindfold.] Did they not make your eyes right?
[It's nothing he would have asked in the nice, polite conversation they were having before. But suddenly it feels fine, asking some random kid what's wrong with his face.]
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—Oh, no, no, my eyes are just fine. It's a visor with a HUD—easy access to all the data I need on the go, y'know?
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[He frowns, sucking at his teeth.]
What kind of data do you even need? Can't you just... see?
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[ Perhaps it's a low bar to set, but at least they're not starting off this conversation with such questions as "what's an android" and "I don't know what data is", so Hank has that much going for him. ]
Sure, I can, but in the heat of combat I'd need to pull up such info like enemy data and current system status on the fly. It's mostly for convenience.
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[You knew what behindest meant, so no judging Hank. It's hard to think of a better word when his brain's torn between ignoring his various miseries and processing the accusation that he's not actually the least tech savvy person there is.
Yeah, that's offense in Hank's voice. Hank is offended.]
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Give yourself a little credit, at least you know what it is. Do you know how many times I've had to explain technology? There're people around that don't even know about electricity.
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[He chews on the inside of his cheek, gaze going distant as he thinks over that.]
Imagine that, not even knowing what androids are. Ignorance sure is bliss, huh.
[Then he comes back, gaze focusing on the screen again.]
How do they take it? The whole ‘ooh, there’s magic in the wires!’ thing? I don’t know how I’d even explain that, let alone what you are.
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With surprise, most of the time. I'm not sure they ever really get it, but I guess I can't expect them to, either. Especially when there's a lot of people around from a more modern era who've never met an android themselves.
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[ Even if they were, they certainly weren't from the same... several millennia; that much 9S could say for sure.
His free hand idly reaches up for the side of his head, fingers idly brushing against the black cloth tied around his face. ]
Does this bother you?
[ 9S won't claim to get it, but Hank wouldn't be the first, so. ]
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Eh, keep it on. You need your, uh, data, or whatever, right?
[Hank watches the screen for a moment, thinking.]
So, you know we're not from the same place? You probably wouldn't of been made in America, but maybe uh... Japan, could be, they make some weird shit over there. What makes you so sure?
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If you're wondering where I was built, it was on an orbital space station specifically designed as a home base for my particular brand of android. It's more like the Earth I know hasn't had humans inhabiting it for thousands of years, so, hypothetically, it would have been impossible for us to ever meet there.
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[He tilts his head back, sucking at his teeth.]
Well. That would do it. What did us in, if you don't mind me asking? The humans, I mean.
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[ Question for the ages, Hank. 9S often wonders about this himself. ]
We've lost a lot of records over the ages, so there's a lot about human civilization that we never knew about. Why they disappeared is one of those unknowns.
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[He taps a finger against Sumo's head, thinking. Androids back home, he could never imagine them doing this, so this is a weird thought. But now that he's thinking it, he has to ask.]
You guys build each other, now, is that right? Why would you do that?
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... Good riddance? Really?
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[Hank pulls a baffled face at the screen. Anyone would get what he's talking about - anyone, that is, who has a frame of reference to guess at his reasons, anyone who's heard the same tired point made a thousand tired times - usually by people who want to think they're being edgy, but that doesn't mean Hank can't kind of get it.]
If it's been that long since we been around I guess you haven't seen what the planet was like, back when we were in charge. Or uh, what do I know, maybe yours was sunshine and roses all day, but mine, uh- Trust me, the world can't get any more fucked up than we already made it. If all of us are all a sudden too dead to fuck around, it's not like shit's going to get worse.
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[ That simple response comes as empty as it could get. The answer he gets is unsettling to hear; perhaps that's because he's a being built to love humanity as their noble creators, hardwired to feel so even now. And yet, it isn't wholly surprising, after so many months away from the only Earth 9S has ever known, around actual people and seeing their uglier sides.
But it's the first time he's heard anyone straight up say 'yeah, buddy, we're awful and ruin everything'. ]
Humans don't tend to speak so badly of their own kind like that. At least—I haven't heard it before.
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Hey, if you want to write me off as some jaded old asshole, go ahead. [His tone is genuine, here, his expression earnest. He means it.] I don't know anything about uh... robot psychology, I didn't come here to fuck with your shit. People don't like thinking about it, how awful we are, because I guess uh, what's the point? We gotta live with us no matter what. But for all I know, I tell you something too bad your head'll start spinning around and explode, so, I mean.
[He shrugs.]
If we're already gone, might as well say 'good riddance', you know? But that's just one guy's opinion.
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