aefenglom | The Network: May, Arrivals from Distant Lands

[.....an android, huh.]

I would gladly sit with you for that, serah android. Is it near your time?

[...and,] What's your name?

[Normally, Connor would be willing to reply in the same fashion. Currently, speaking takes more energy than typing, and he has so little of it left.]

Thank you. My name is Connor. I appear to have a few hours of power remaining, but it's difficult to tell.

[None of his sensors or diagnostics have been working properly since he arrived, and now is no exception.]

[!!!!!]

Connor? Maker's breath, you're--

[Not the same Connor, in all likelihood; the Connor he knew would've recognized his nickname on the network and made asking for his own name unnecessary.

Settle down, Shivana.]

--ah. [A breath out.] Sorry, serah. We'd another Connor here who was a--good friend of mine, before he left. Know that I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, for the affection I bore for him. I'm Myr Shivana.

...Right, then. I'll be right along; where are you, how are you feeling, and do you need anything to make you more, [not comfortable,] at ease?

[Another... Connor?

The idea sparks something in his mind, which in turn creates an unpleasant lurching sensation in his chest, despite the lack of any external stimuli. But still, even with the complex issues that would come with another model's existence, there's someone who's familiar with him, in a sense... and the idea is almost a comfort. It's a strange thought, that he'd be able to experience comfort, much less have a need for it. But even as much as he's trying to lie to himself about feeling anything, he knows that's why he reached out in the first place.]

Thank you, Myr. It's good to meet you. [And it will be even better to speak in person, for all the questions he has.]

I'm in Room 5 of the Barracks. I was only able to learn so much about the process in such a short time, but I've managed to find the resources I think I'll need. [... blood, that is.] You could say I'm very tired right now.

Resources...ah. You're set, then. [That's a relief; Myr has never had a Vampire feed on him and is honestly squeamish about the process, but if needs must...]

Rest, in that case. The barracks aren't that far from my home. [And all the usual things he'd do before going out to go visit a sick... new friend? --are obviated by neither androids nor Vampires getting much out of food or drink.

He also thinks it the better part of valor to leave his wormipede at home. So he's alone when he arrives only a few minutes after his last message, locating room 5 via a few quick inquiries before knocking politely on the door.]

Serah Connor? It's Myr. I'll let myself in, if that's all right with you. [No need to make a dying man get up to answer the door.]

Edited (idk why it needed the extra three words but it did) 2021-05-06 01:09 (UTC)

[Hopefully things won't come to that, but it's not as if Connor can fully predict what will happen. He hasn't exactly had urges before, unless you count his fully transparent orders from CyberLife.

The voice that calls out from inside the room is likely familiar but with a slight electronic edge that betrays its owner's true nature. He's had to curb some more extraneous processes in order to last this long, including many of the human-emulation sort.]

Please do. [He saw no point in locking anything, so it's easy to open.]

[...Well, he certainly sounds the same Connor, albeit a little stranger than Myr had ever heard him. The Faun's ears lift both at the familiar voice and the permission to come in, and he nudges the door open before easing his way in around it, staff held before him.]

Thank you. You're in the bed, I assume? Have you got a chair in here?

[He remembers the barracks rooms well enough he thinks he might be able to find any furniture with a minimum of bumped shins, but better to ask.

Despite the--somewhat grim occasion, he is smiling a little to go with his words.]

[Connor was built to adapt to human differences, so the sight of the blindfold simply causes him to change his future approach to the... deer person, and goes unmentioned.]

There is one a few feet to my left.

[He is, in fact, on a cot, although sitting with his back propped against the wall. There's no sound of breathing aside from the occasional intake before he speaks, and if Myr's ears are sensitive enough, they may catch the high-pitched whir that accompanies Connor's LED blinking in red.

He's done his best to clean his clothes of stains and smell, but the scent of salt- and rainwater still clings a bit. Unfortunate.]

Thank you for coming, Myr.

[He would like to be able to match that smile, but even if he could muster the energy for it, it would likely be wasted. He'll just have to try to make the interaction as pleasant as he can, despite how worn down he feels.]

[Ah, another estimable Connor trait Myr had come to rely on--the helpfulness. He seeks out the chair with a murmur of gratitude, arranging it so he's facing the sound of the android's voice (and that tiny, subtle whirring) before settling himself in it with his staff on the floor in touching distance of one hoof.]

You're very welcome, [he replies, lifting his head and putting a certain warmth in his voice.] I can imagine this must be very difficult for you, even knowing you'll come back from it. It's rather faster than most Vampires experience their changes.

[Usually, the ones he'd known of had Bondmates to keep them company by the time they reached the point of death.]

Is there anything you'd like to do while we wait, or would you rather pass the time in silence?

[Even knowing you'll come back from it.

It's a big assumption to make—even given all the supposed evidence and reassurances from those familiar with the concept. It's a hard thing for him to understand, and accepting it isn't much easier.

It takes him a moment longer than usual to formulate a response, and his voice is not as steady as it should be. He blames his steadily declining power.]

I think waiting would make it worse.

[As much as he can be patient with others or with a situation, he's so used to having a set task, and not doing something towards that end has taken away his main way of thinking and functioning. He has absolutely nothing to do but wait at this point. Antsy is a word that springs to mind. Anxious and frustrated are a few more.

Thankfully, a possible source of information is here, so that at least he can be trying to work out a problem.]

The other Connor... do you know if he went through a similar experience? [But more than this drawn out process, he has other questions.] And... what else do you know about him?

[Myr's look of instant sympathy says he well understands that sentiment. He'd be doing far worse, were their situations reversed--for many of the same reasons.

He's sat beside deathbeds before. He's yet to be on one himself.

Fortunately they've got an excellent topic to distract themselves from all of that.]

He was a Merrow, not a Vampire--so he underwent changes like all of us Monsters do, but didn't have to die for them. My--admittedly rough--understanding is that he was partway but not wholly flesh by the end of it. [That second question, now...] And it did change the kind and degree of his emotions, or--accelerated the process that had begun before he'd come here, anyway. As I imagine that might be a concern.

[Implicitly: He knows quite a bit, albeit filtered through an odd lens.] I know he--and you, I presume--were created as a kind of artificial human, made of metal and plastics and with minds that were written into existence. You could reason as people do, but not feel, so you were treated as a kind of very useful object: Expensive but ultimately disposable. When it came out that you could--what's the word--deviate from the instructions that made you, and develop emotions, your creators deemed it a flaw and began destroying androids who showed the trait.

He--and you--were one of their instruments for that.

[Partly flesh isn't a phrase that gives him any sense of satisfaction, that's for sure. He can only hope things are different for him. But as to the rest? He repeats a word with a mutter for no real reason.]

... Emotions.

[It would be pointless to fully deny he hasn't felt one, even if he'd like to pretend he hasn't since. The latter would probably be the bigger lie, though.

Despite knowing that another Connor model would likely face the same situation, be involve in the same case, it is a deeper look into his purpose and history than he anticipated. It shouldn't be a surprise to be known so well—not for him. He both appreciates it and feels somewhat exposed, and some very distant part of him feels the need to defend his purpose. What does he have without it, really? He's just a machine designed to accomplish a task, and if he doesn't have that, what is he supposed to do?

Die, apparently.]

Deviants are a threat to humans.

[The statement is utterly lacking any commitment, even though his experience has largely proven it. But what had he missed while looking for those associated with criminal cases? The android Markus had called for a peaceful transition, and had refused to harm the humans in his way even when it meant putting his own in danger. ... he shouldn't be questioning this. CyberLife gave him a mission, and he's supposed to fulfill it. He's not supposed to make moral judgments.]

The Connor model... is a prototype. It was my understanding that only one of us would be active at a time, until it proved to be a success. [Uncertainly, he adds:] Maybe I was mistaken...

[It is a great deal to frankly lay on the table at a first meeting, and were Connor elven--or human, or otherwise mortal, rather than something Myr's come to think of as a kind of artificial spirit--the Faun would likely be more circumspect about setting it down. But the Connor he'd befriended had always treated his own past with an open and (mostly) unashamed frankness; it seemed only right to offer that back to his...brother? Younger self? Copy?

How did one think about people who could be made as exact duplicates of each other?

He inclines his chin at Connor's response, perhaps intuiting a little of what prompted it.]

I know. As humans can be threats to other humans, and given an android's strength relative to them, you could do so much more harm. [It's the same argument for mages: Other rules had to apply to those with power far beyond what their neighbors had to wield; harsher laws had to bind.

It didn't mean Connor's creators had settled on the right solution for androids. Or that the Chantry had settled on the right one for mages.] He didn't tell me all of this, to be clear; I walked through one of his memories with him, once.

[He's still processing some of the absolute strangeness of it, and how Connor's world--even if it had no magic--had still seemed a place of miracles.] I've--come to my own conclusions about what I saw[?] there, but I'll spare you from them if you're uncomfortable with my judgment on the matter.

[A ghost of a smile crosses his face.] I know I haven't even a hundredth of an understanding of you, or him, or the world you came from. [Though he does have some very pesky moral intuitions that should universally apply.]

As for that--I don't...know that you are mistaken. You could be the same Connor I knew, from an earlier point in his life. You could be a different one who's never been in Aefenglom, but nevertheless the only Connor from your world. The possibilities on the other side of the mirrors are mutable as the Fade--that's to say, [he amends,] there seem to be many very similar worlds that they can draw us from, and even Mirrorbound from the same world don't all seem to come from the same time.

Edited 2021-05-06 07:45 (UTC)

[As an AI with very little fantastical imagination, Connor doesn't have the easiest time with the ideas of walking through memories with others, different origin times or parallel worlds. That isn't to say he isn't grateful for the information, but he's not accustomed to accepting things as fact without understanding the underlying mechanisms. He takes a few seconds before replying, that light and the accompanying sound blinking more rapidly.]

It's a lot to process.

[Nevertheless, Myr knows a good deal of what Connor knows to be true, and clearly believes the rest of what he's saying. He'll just have to trust that.]

I don't mind if you have a different opinion about the situation. [His own partner had seemed fine with the escape of those Connor was meant to catch, after all. He'd expressed sympathy for them a number of times. That someone else would hold similar views isn't unexpected, and the android wouldn't hold it against them. He's not meant to judge.]

I've realized that... my own understanding of it may be flawed. For one... I underestimated the impact actually feeling an emotion could have.

[Or rather, he overestimated his capacity to handle whatever challenges came his way. Having the information isn't the same as understandingit.]

[A brief, huffing not-quite-laugh escapes Myr's lips at that. It's a lot to process.]

I can imagine. Forgive me--the other Connor arrived here before I did, and he'd time to grow accustomed to, [he lifts a hand to gesture at the room, the building, the city around it,] everything.

[Remembering it's not the same person when the voice and the presence and even that tiny little hum speak of familiarity can be a little difficult. Even the difficulty with emotion resonates, putting Myr in mind of one of the last conversations he'd had with his friend before the Merrow vanished back through the mirrors.

His response now is much as it had been then:]

You're not alone in that, [he says, with a rueful little smile.] If it's any consolation--even though we who're born with emotions have a difficult time predicting how they'll effect us, let alone keeping our composure when they do. We've got to learn how.

How has feeling emotions for yourself changed your understanding? [A leading question, but maybe a safer one than all the ones Myr wants to ask about Connor's history.]

Right.

[Given time, given the chance, he can adapt. He's sure of that much. Myr's remarks about emotions, however, make him... a little less sure.

Emotions always screw everything up. Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought, Hank had said. The playback in his memory is fuzzy around the edges, but it's clear enough.]

So I've been told...

[With that said, humans—and these other organic beings—have such a head start. Emotion is innate to them. Not so for androids, who merely imitate it, until a trigger shakes their systems to the core.]

I thought they were only... errors in an android's programming. [Or in less technological terms:] The result of a mistake in their artificial intelligence, or damage to their parts. Something that could be fixed, if only we understood the cause.

[Now, though.]

It seems to run deeper than that... but I don't know. [Would another Connor who downloaded his memories have the same sensation? Or is it something the next could ignore and remain the machine it was made to be?]

I've faith you can master them as much as anyone does. You were made to learn frightfully faster than we mortals do.

[Myr's grasp on the technological aspects of an android are...dubious, at best, couched in analogy to magic and theology and clockwork. He certainly could not explain what programming was or how a set of written instructions that were adamantly not a spell could create a being that imitated life in every detail. But he did have notions for beings that saw and valued the world very differently than mortals, and thinking of Connor as a peculiar kind of trapped spirit had served him in good stead previously.

It seems to still be working here too, at least.]

H'mm. And from what I know of your world, it would be awfully hard to test what that "deeper" component might be, wouldn't it? Not the least because--as I understand it--there's some doubt as to whether any of you, human or android, have anything more to you than the matter you're made of. Does anyone talk about androids having souls?

[A pause. And then, more gently,] Has anyone ever--"fixed" an android that's gone deviant?

[The mild slump to his posture implies he doesn't have nearly as much confidence as Myr, although he is grateful for the sentiment.]

Thank you.

[He listens quietly to Myr's assessment, running it through his processors a few times, though much more slowly than usual. He doesn't come up with a reply before the Faun offers a different, very important question.]

I don't know. If not, they would have kept trying... and if they'd done it, they'd have no reason to share it with me. I was only supposed to find the source, and I doubt they were concerned with whether I understood it.

[Cyberlife wouldn't bother explaining everything to their tool, advanced prototype or not. He was meant to gather information for their sake, not his own.]

You're correct that there's debate if even humans have souls... I'm certain there are discussions like that about androids, but the main argument is over whether we're living beings. But I suppose... in the end, it's the same concept.

The Network: May, Arrivals from Distant Lands

voice; un: mshivana

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