bindsthedead

PSL

There was a time when Sabriel might have been eager to see the inside of Cyberlife Tower. Her class had been to Detroit when she was thirteen, and they'd toured an android factory- or the part of it they showed to tourists, at least- and visited museums and art galleries and all the sorts of things Young Ladies ought to see, but weren't available in the small town of Wyverley, or in Bain.

But Sabriel wasn't here for a school trip. Recent events in Ancelstierre meant that with the sudden loss of all android soldiers meant that soldiers from the entirely human garrison at the Wall had been transferred elsewhere- which meant fewer soldiers watching the border, on top of the losses from Kerrigor's attack, and a necromancer had slipped across, making his way to the largest city that was close enough to the Wall that magic still worked- one that seemed rather different than how she remembered it.

But what was occupying most of her attention was the Cyberlife representative in front of her. Sabriel listened politely as the woman spoke about malfunctioning machines and simulated emotions and how things that weren't alive couldn't die, so why would a necromancer- and from the woman's voice it was clear she didn't believe such things were real- want with deactivated androids?

Sabriel stood up and shook the woman's hand, telling her she'd been very helpful without meaning a word of it, and headed out the office before pausing.

She sensed something ominously familiar- Death, and a recent one at that. She turned another corner, following the sensation as a hound tracked a scent, half-expecting someone to spot her, to see her in her armor and bells (security had made her check her sword at the front desk) and tell her she wasn't allowed to be here.

But no one came, and no one living was in the laboratory she went into- just a dead- (deactivated?) android on a table-or its head and torso at least, with panels on its chest removed to reveal tubes and biocomponents, and Sabriel felt she'd stepped into a morgue and found an autopsied body.

Sabriel was seized by a sudden impulse. If androids weren't alive, then she'd simply waste some time, but if they were... well, she'd have a source of information she could interrogate as she would any Dead spirit. And unlike the representative she'd just spoken to, she could force it to answer honestly and completely.

Decision made, Sabriel undid the straps and drew Saraneth from the bandolier. This far from the Wall, stepping into Death took a deliberate effort, but soon Sabriel was in the First precinct and she cast around with her senses, trying to feel out the spirit of the android- if it had one, it couldn't have gone beyond the First Gate, and probably shouldn't be that far into the the First Precinct.

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Abhorsen steps in his way, and Connor stills, eyes narrowing. Her assumptions about the risk aren't wrong—an electromagnetic attack would be consistent with the damage done in the glass cells, and pass over a human with no effect. Of course, if whoever took the device is lying in wait behind that door...

...they might very well be listening.

Connor sighs. "Don't be ridiculous." The sneer drags at his voice, harsh and mocking. It's a contrast to his neutral expression—and the nod he offers, one hand lifting from his weapon to wave Abhorsen towards the door. He continues aloud: "You don't even have a weapon. I'll go first."

Quietly, he steps to the side, raising his rifle to aim past her. He won't have a line of fire on much, this far from the doorway. But if Cyberlife wastes their attack, he should be able to follow.

Sabriel catches the contrast between Connor's words and actions, and nods wordlessly, fingers sketching out the first marks of a spell- a bolt of magical power that should break any technology near where it lands, and seriously damage anything it hits.

"Well maybe if you let me have a gun," She adds just a little sulkily as she moves in front of him, one hand holding her spell ready, the other grabbing the handle and swinging the door open- only to see something flying towards her- and Sabriel reacts on instinct, flinging the spell at whatever it is and screaming the activating mark.

Whatever it is, it bursts into bits of wire, burnt plastic, and bits of metal, as Sabriel finds herself suddenly charged by a screaming figure with a stun gun in hand, and Sabriel tackles her, grappling with the other woman and trying to force the stun gun out of her hands.

There's a prickle of nausea. A moment of sickening, vivid dread. And then the device shatters, pieces scattering across the floor, and the inductive surge vanishes. Connor shakes his head, flushing the blur of static from his visual feed—and raises his rifle, aiming carefully and firing into the tangled forms.

Three bullets punch through the woman's lab coat, cutting through her shoulders and side. She collapses to the ground with a cry of pain: not a clean kill, but certainly she won't be getting back up. Connor moves forward, stopping only long enough to kick the stun gun in her hand out of reach before he steps through the gap to check the room beyond.

Sabriel scrambles back, away from the dying woman, watching and feeling her last moments with horror- the gasps for air a blood fills her lungs and pools on the floor. Even though Sabriel knows that this woman had a role in the deaths of those androids, might have been willing to kill her, and certainly was willing to kill Connor- all she feels is something cold and hollow, a recognition that however unpleasant this was, it was necessary- even if she suspected she'd always hate that it was.

When Sabriel looks up, and takes in the screens full of notes and blueprints, and the half- assembled things on workbenches, even she can see that this is where whatever had killed the androids in the other room had been designed and made. Then her gaze falls to Connor.

"Connor, whatever that was- it didn't hurt you?" He doesn't look hurt, but none of those dead androids had any obvious injuries.

No other humans. Not obviously, and Connor takes care scanning the workspace: first from a distance, and then pacing the room's length. It's only once he's checked thoroughly for other threats that he turns his focus to the contents of the tables—and Abhorsen's words.

"No." He shakes his head. He isn't damaged. Thanks, he grudgingly (and privately) admits, to her. Depending on the range of the device, he might have been able to survive its use. But his odds of coming through unscathed were... low.

He doesn't say as much aloud. The biggest danger from Abhorsen has never been that she might let him die, and she hardly needs more reason to think she gets to lay some kind of claim. Still, after a moment of silent examination, Connor does speak.

"It was an EMP." His eyes flick over, checking for comprehension. Not finding any, he continues. "They destroy all electronics—software especially—within range."

Edited 2020-01-27 21:36 (UTC)

"But leaves humans untouched- a perfect weapon against androids." They wouldn't need to worry about androids turning it against them like they would with guns or bombs.

"They must have been testing it on the androids in the other room." And by all appearances, it was a runaway success. Sabriel looks back at the corpse of the woman. She must have been involved in testing the weapons- in murdering those androids. She wasn't an innocent bystander.

It doesn't completely erase Sabriel's unease with her death, but it helps a little.

"Connor- thank you for helping me in that fight." Even if he didn't want to shoot her, he could have waited for her to get shocked before intervening. Or simply left her to her own devices.

Connor hums a noncommittal note to her assessment. While he's never seen a device like that before, EMP technology is hardly new. He places a hand on the terminal, skin drawing back to browse its contents as Abhorsen continues.

She makes as little sense as usual. It's almost reassuring, to know that deviancy hasn't brought him closer to her point of view, and he rolls his eyes in answer.

"I killed a human who would have killed me. Five minutes ago you were begging me not to."

Is it that much different, when she perceives a risk herself? Or is she just hoping to flatter his ego?

"He wasn't an immediate threat to either of us. She was." There hadn't been a question of perhaps avoiding loss of life, just of survival.

Not that she expected Connor to understand- he didn't have a death-sense, or see anything wrong with taking life. Neither Connor does. And apparently most humans aren't bothered by it either, given what she's seen since her return to Ancelstierre.

There's another door beside the one they entered through- one that leads back to the hallway.

Connor's eyebrows float up, but he doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he finishes sifting through the database, skin crawling back across his hand as he disconnects.

"They were miniaturizing the technology here." It could almost be a nonsequitur—except for the hand that flicks back toward the crumpled body on the floor, and the shattered grenade she'd tried deploying. "There might be other devices in the facility. Or with the soldiers outside."

He looks to Abhorsen, smiling tightly as he moves past her for the door. "If you needed any other reason to overcome your squeamishness."

"So I should- stay in front of you and k-" Sabriel chokes on the word, but presses on- "Kill any humans that don't immediately surrender."

She hates it. But it's probably what's necessary, and she won't always have one of the Connors around when it is.

Sabriel wishes she could talk to her father- he fought necromancers and other sorcerers, he must have killed them- how could he make himself do it?

"Even if it's dangerous- it's still technology, so it's easily breakable with magic. And we have two mages among us."

Surrender? Connor snorts. "You say that like we could trust them if they did."

Still, he doubts he'll get anything better from her—and as long as she takes care of the devices, he should be able to deal with the rest. Honestly, he'll be surprised if she kills anything herself. She flinches just trying to say the word.

Magic can break technology. They have two mages. His mouth flattens, eyes flicking sideways as he checks the next room down the hall. (An empty closet.) Has she taught the other Connor that trick, then? It seems unlikely that she would have prioritized it before coming here.

"Why aren't you with my predecessor?" Connor frowns. Distributing the magic users would make sense, except— "You didn't know about the EMPs until just now."

"He told me to look for any other exits, so I could seal them." And she'd wanted to get away from the corpses- there had to be some rooms here that weren't tainted by death- from their actions, or those of the previous occupants.

"I'll warn him about the EMPs once I'm sure there are no other exits, and show him the spell I used- although anything sufficiently powerful should break them." It's not like Connor has any reason to linger near the door, and the range of those devices can't be that large, can it?

"Hopefully the two of us will be enough." She doubts Connor would accept baptism if she offered it, and- would it even be a good use of time and energy?

He told her to. Connor's eyes flick sideways, filing away that point of data with the rest. None of it's enough for a conclusion. But nothing he's learned, from her or his copy, seems to support his first assumptions either. Why they would be working together. What she might have done, to be so sure.

Abhorsen can't be trusted. He doesn't need more proof of that. It's still... frustrating, not knowing.

Almost as frustrating as her reminder: just how dependent he is on the both of their goodwill. Connor's mouth flattens, LED swimming a brittle gold.

"We'll see, won't we?"

The next door down is closed—but by the windows at the side, it leads into a larger lab. Connor lags a beat, then jerks his weapon forward: gesturing Abhorsen to step into the space first.

There are no humans inside, which is something of a relief. But there are more more androids, hanging in rows on assembly rigs, motionless but alive. There's another android on the labratory table- limbs and skin removed, her abdominal plating opened to reveal the glowing blue biocomponents within.

She turns as Sabriel walks in, and her expression is full of hope.

"Are you why the humans ran away? Did Markus come to save us? I almost- I thought we'd all die in here."

Sabriel's not entirely sure what to say. Markus is- the leader of Jericho. Does the android not realize she's human? Should she correct her, or just try to keep her calm so she can talk to her?

Sabriel offers a reassuring smile. She doesn't need to lie, just... not mention some things.

"Jericho's sending help," Sabriel assures her, "But we need to hold out until then. Do you know how many exits there are? Or where they put your arms and legs?"

Edited 2020-01-31 02:06 (UTC)

No alarms. No attacks. Connor waits for a count of two, then steps into the room. His attention is drawn to the row of assembly rigs along the side, and he circles inward, inspecting them slowly. It takes long seconds to drag his eyes—and memories—away.

Not that the room's centerpiece is any less familiar. In circumstance, at least. He's quite certain he never wore a look like that. Despite the deluded optimism in its gaze, this AP700's face is tight with pain, and he scans the chassis, cataloging which organs have been hollowed out.

"I don't—I woke up here..."

The words trail off, and he becomes aware of the stare now locked on his expression. No—his face.

"Connor?"

Hope, not fear. It knows his predecessor. Connor's expression doesn't change, but apparently it doesn't have to—the other android blinks furiously, face slackening with relieved tears.

"I'm sure you don't... I was at the tower."

...Oh.

"You're here to get us out again?"

Connor stares down at the vivisected torso, mouth pressing flat. The tower. It's his predecessor the AP700 wants, his predecessor it's asking for—but it's entirely possible after all that this android has seen him, as well.

It would have passed his corpse on its way out the door.

"...of course." He curves his lips upward. Carefully uncurls the fingers half-clenched to fists at his side.

"We need to deal with the humans first. How many were in this room?"

"Two of them! They ran out after an alarm sounded."

So two more people Connor had to kill- unless they'd run to the main exit and had either gotten out, or were one of the technicians caught up in Ranna's song and were already dead.

Sabriel eyes the biocomponents resting next to the android. She's not sure how to put them back in- but she should. The android seems to be in pain without them. She'll have to ask Connor how to do it. She looks back at him, uncertain, and then back to the android.

"Did you see which way they went?" If they'd run toward the exit she knew about, then they were either dead or had escaped. If not... then they were either hiding deeper in the lab, or there was another exit.

"That way," the android says, jerking her head to indicate the direction.

Deeper in the labratory, then. Sabriel's not sure if she hopes they got out or not. Sabriel looks back to Connor, to see what he does next.

Edited 2020-02-01 03:35 (UTC)

Abhorsen's lingering stare toward the components, Connor ignores. The android hasn't died from their absence yet, and it isn't likely to in the near future. More relevant by far is the information it supplies. Connor withdraws the skin from his left hand, placing it on a plastic shoulder. It flinches, startled, and he represses a scowl.

Does it matter, really, if he keeps up the pretense? Probably not, but he doesn't need it struggling, either. "I need to access your memory of their faces," Connor explains. He waits just long enough for a tentative nod before initiating a probe.

The android doesn't struggle. She shudders, shocked and scared, as he seizes the half-assembled memories from her grasp, rifling quickly to extract raw images. They come out tainted by her misery, and he grimaces, disconnecting from the feeling of hands prying him apart. The shape on the table recovers much more slowly. She's still trembling—and frowning, eyes on him—as Connor moves to turn away.

"They're further in." He pauses. "We'll be back once they're dead."

Someone will, probably. They might even look like him.

"Just hold on," Sabriel assures her, wide eyed and serious, "I promise, we won't let you or any other android die here. We're all going to get out of here alive."

Everyone except the Cyberlife employees at least.

Once they're out of the room, with the door safely closed, Sabriel turns to Connor, her expression hesitant. It might be poking at a sore spot. But the way they'd found that android was uncannily like another Cyberlife labratory she'd found Sixty in.

"Connor- Can I ask you something?"

Connor doesn't wait until the door closes to lose the pleasant neutrality across his face. It's gone as soon as he steps out of the AP700's line of sight, replaced with a sour look and a (mostly directionless) glare. He stalks out quickly, skin rolling back across his hand, and makes it several steps down the hall before he tracks Abhorsen's delay.

By the time she actually follows him outside, the tension has mostly resettled to his shoulders. One hand grips the rifle tightly, and the other curls in his suit jacket: tugging it straight at the collar, smoothing out the tear cut by his predecessor's knife.

"What?"

The glower, he's all too happy to turn her way.

She's not sure if she should ask. But the situation the AP700 in was disturbingly like the way she'd found him. So she asks anyway, even as she notes the glower, and the tension in his shoulders and hands. She keeps herself relaxed, hands at her sides, her posture as nonthreatening and inoffensive as she can make it, her tone of voice as mild as if she was asking him about the weather.

"Are you feeling all right? After- everything that's happened?"

He doesn't look all right- Sabriel doubts he'd ever let himself seem vulnerable or miserable, but he seems... more on edge than usual. And if she mentioned that, she's certain he'd snap at her.

"Did you know Cyberlife was doing things like this?" Sabriel hadn't, and she feels like an idiot for not realizing they were, before the evidence was right in front of her face.

Edited 2020-02-02 01:31 (UTC)

Sabriel is certainly right about one thing: Connor has no interest in exposing vulnerability—and least of all to her. Her inquiry draws an incredulous stare, lips curling back in vivid, poisonous rejection. Which expression of derision to spit back is the only stalling point. When she follows with an equally obvious question, he settles on an audible scoff.

"Things like what?" His hand drops from his jacket, jerking back toward the closed door. "Dismantling failed products?" He shifts, casting further back along the hall. "Testing countermeasures? Of course I knew."

He'd been a countermeasure and a failure both. In more than one way.

"Are you pretending you didn't?"

As Connor speaks, several things click into place. Connor had been a countermeasure. And then he'd been a 'failed product', scheduled to be disassembled until Sabriel had stumbled into the lab. And then... why not give her a cast-off, something they'd deemed worthless anyway, to keep her from asking too many questions. Had he been waiting for her to do the same thing to him too?

"I didn't," Sabriel admits, trying to keep her gaze on Connor instead of down at her feet. "It was in front of me, but I was too stupid, too wrapped up in my own problems to put everything together."

Abhorsen's admission does very little to banish Connor's sneer. Or the vivid loathing still seething through his core. She was stupid. Self-centered, self-righteous—always ready to decry Cyberlife standards even while she profited from them.

"Then congratulations." He turns down the hall, empty hand dropping—curling in frustration, before he returns it to his gun. "For realizing the very basics of how... this works."

(...life still feels like the wrong word.)

Unlike some of their previous conversations, Sabriel doesn't try to argue. Instead, her gaze finally settles down at her feet, before occasionally flipping up to Connor.

"I thought I was helping, but instead I was just hurting you. And I didn't try hard enough to understand how you felt." Instead, she'd just desperately focused on dealing with the necromancer and the Dead, because that made sense, that was what she'd been trained to do. Not dealing with the feelings and wants of someone who'd refused to acknowledge they had them.

And now she's dealing with the consequences of that mistake.

Connor is ready to move on. Abhorsen evidently isn't—but the careful outpouring of guilt still catches him off guard. Like an unexpected stench, and his expression twists with similar distaste. What the fuck is she on about?

"What a poetic stock apology," he scoffs. "But we weren't talking about me."

Certainly, he hadn't brought up any supposed feelings. Connor had been sneering at her ignorance of Cyberlife. Of androids as a whole.

"If you want to prove how enlightened you are now—" the words cut off on a sharp edge, vectoring toward any number of targets. Save the apologies for androids who ask. Try not turning every topic toward your need to wallow. In the end, he keeps it simple.

"...don't."

That's not what he's here for.

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