acatalepsy_rpg | video | dated at the very end of week one

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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.]

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No, we're definitely not.

[ 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. ]

[His expression's surprised, at first, at the implied offer to take it off - because unless they manufacture real assholes wherever this guy's from, it was an offer - and then it goes stubborn. The whole 'no eyes and yet it sees' thing honestly is a little offputting, but hell if Hank's going to admit it.]

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?

[ If he insists... For now, 9S lowers his hand back down. ]

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.

Oh.

[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.

Beats me.

[ 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.

Huh. Well, good riddance, I guess. So...

[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?

[ That question needs to be put on hold for a second here, because what? Despite the blindfold, 9S appears visibly shocked. ]

... Good riddance? Really?

Well. Yeah.

[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.

... Oh.

[ 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.

[Hank looks bothered, because he is. The tone - or lack of tone - in that 'oh' bothers him.]

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.

My head's not going to explode.

[ It comes out like a childish huff; what's this guy taking him for? ]

I can— [ -deal with it, because it's nothing any worse than what 9S has already seen and been through, he thinks. But he stops himself short. ] ... Nevermind. Maybe I was a little surprised, but it's not a big deal.

Sure.

[Hank shifts around, angling his wrist so he can lean his head back while studying the screen.]

So, what's your deal? You don't act like an android, like some clockwork guy wound up toward just one purpose. Is that normal for you guys? Cause that's kinda not the way I thought you guys would go, once you got the run of the Earth.

Huh?

[ 9S gives a puzzled tilt of his head, pausing for a brief moment before answering further. ]

Uh... What were you expecting? I don't think I act unusual for an android... Though, outside where I'm from, I've only met a few.

Well.

[He thinks about it.]

My station got androids in a year or two after they came out, so I’ve had to work around em a while. But they’ve always been, uh... flat, I guess. They’re stuck in the uncanny valley and you’re- well, still uncanny, don’t get me wrong, but in a different way. How much of your original programming did you guys keep, do you know? From when humans designed you.

[ Uncanny... Thanks, Hank. ]

They were all programmed like that? Sheesh, I wouldn't ever want to end up like those guys, then. I couldn't answer your question, though—we've been around for a looong time.

[ And, as he knows, much of their history has been lost to time. ]

Yeah. Maybe they're like, the cavemen to your uh... [Hank casts around for the right term. The one that comes to mind is homo erectus but he can't say that with a straight face. That's not a scientific name, that's a dick joke.] ...your modern man? Shit, that'd be weird. Or maybe I'm putting too much thought into it. You guys just are what you are, right? You don't change. That's sort of a machine's whole thing.

I'm not a machine.

[ He responds like kneejerk, nose wrinkling. There's an obvious distaste in his tone, like a nerve has been struck. ]

I'm not the same as whatever dumb, mindless robot you might be thinking of.

Uh.

Is this a cultural thing? Some kinda taboo? Cause, uh... That's kinda what android means. Unless you're actually made of, uh. Flesh. Or some kinda organic shit.

[ ... Ugh, of course he doesn't get it. No one ever does, but that's only to be expected, 9S supposes; it's not as if anyone else comes from a world similar to his.

Though, knowing this guy is already familiar with androids and still calls them a machine kind of sucks. ]

No, I'm just not... [ He trails off, then shakes his head, in that 'nevermind, it's a long story' manner. ] I'd appreciate not being called a machine.

Sure, whatever. If it's that important to you. [Hank shrugs, studying the screen curiously. Hank's not going to ask if he's that reluctant to explain, and it's not like Hank has any personal stake in it with this guy, so he doesn't feel any need to argue.] Anything else I oughta avoid?

[His voice holds no tone in particular; he's asking genuinely, even if he doesn't sound very apologetic about it.]

[ The question gives him pause, because 9S hadn't expected that would give off the impression there's some list of Android Etiquette to adhere to; it's merely the one sore spot Hank had managed to unintentionally throw in his face, so he ends up shaking his head. ]

Thaaat's about it. But, uh, thanks.

[Hank jerks his jaw up in acknowledgement.]

No problem.

[He waits a second and then makes a face, obviously awkward, pursing his lips, his eyes avoiding the screen. Is there anything to change the topic to, or should he just end the conversation? On this weird, uncomfortable note? He doesn't want to, because that'll make things awkward the next time they meet, but where do you go from accidentally using an android slur? He's still kind of wrapping his head around the fact that that's even a thing.]

[ It doesn't take much to notice the awkward air brewing; 9S, in turn, feels a touch guilty for bringing it to this point, but what else was he going to do? He can't just let people keep calling him a damn machine, even if it was coming from a human. Ugh. ]

... Right. Well—anyway... Where were we?

[ Let's just steer it away from that, for now. ]

[The other guy trying to move past the whole thing helps; Hank's awkward look mostly drains away.]

I don't even remember. Robo-evolution, I think? But I kind of get the feeling there's not much to say about that outside 'it's been such a long-ass time that no one actually knows how anything happened'. No android archaeologists where you're from, huh?

[ Alright, good. Moving on then. ]

Actually, there were a lot of them around—it wasn't odd to find someone with a special interest in finding old relics of the past. We'd been able to find a lot about how humans used to be that way, at least.

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