bindsthedead: (art-explaining)
Sabriel ([personal profile] bindsthedead) wrote2019-03-09 01:38 am

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.
youcantkillme: (Frown)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-02-20 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Connor's sprint slows dramatically when he sees the JB400 outside the doorway--intact, and alive. His gun was already in his hands, brought up for the blind corner he was passing, but now he lowers it, LED blinking hard and eyebrows lowering.

The JB400 twists skittishly at some sound he makes, spotting him, then scuttles to the side to make way. Connor steps into the doorway, every sense on high alert.

The RK800 is the only android in the room. There's a--mess on the floor? Connor stares at his counterpart, before looking down more carefully. Are those.... mechanical legs, with an elongated body? There's also a few shreds of debris that don't look like they came with the device, and after a moment Connor looks up, finding a vent cover that's been ripped to shreds.

"What was it doing?" he asks flatly, and for a moment he reconstructs the events, putting things together bit by bit.
313_248_317_60: (Mission)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-02-20 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
Connor's eyes shift back to the conjoined debris. Another careful prod with his weapon confirms the results of his first scan—it isn't going to turn on again. He reaches out with his empty hand, lifting it up to expose the data-connectors at the front.

"Trying to plug in."

He stands, turning back toward the other RK800—and, after a moment, tosses the centipede that way as well. His counterpart can perform his own analysis.

"It came in through the vent. Have you heard anything?"
youcantkillme: (Red LED)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-02-20 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
His stress levels are creeping back down slowly, and when the other Connor tosses him the remains, he's able to catch them with nothing but a barbed stare that lingers longer than it should.

"Not near the lab." Connor scans it, takes 0.2 seconds to digest the meaning of its jaw-plugs (high speed, flexible design), then drops it off by his shoe. "That doesn't mean there aren't more trying to sneak in."

Worst case scenario: the humans have as many more of those centipedes as they need to fill the vents and walls until everyone underground is overwhelmed. Would humans do that? Connor crushes the head-shell under his heel, destroying the data plugs.

"We need a new plan. We can't protect this room the way we expected if they can get in like this."
313_248_317_60: (Why did you have to wake up‚ when)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-02-21 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
Abhorsen's footsteps are recognizable. Connor's attention snaps toward the sound, eyes narrowing as she steps into view of the doorway. The redundant question draws an impatient look, but he opens his mouth to answer.

"The vents," he repeats. "So unless—"

A familiar skittering stalls the words in Connor's throat. He steps back toward the console, gun coming up as he tries to track the source of the noises.

There's no time. Not to argue, not to plan. Certainly not to block off every ventilation shaft in the building. Connor eyes the ductwork running overhead. Would it even work to seal the openings? Those limbs looked sharp enough to burrow through aluminum.

His eyes stay on the walls and ceiling, but Connor grits his teeth, head turning slightly toward Abhorsen. "Will your barriers block electronic signals? Or set off anything inside?"
youcantkillme: (Who is that dog)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-02-21 07:11 am (UTC)(link)
"Humans are trying to set this off," Connor answers more quietly, sparing her a glance. The skittering draws his attention back almost immediately, and he turns his attention towards listening.

It's--not level with the ceiling. Connor looks until his eyes are resting on a wall by the door. It leaves him with an equally clear view of the JB400 watching them speak like a ping pong tournament, but Connor ignores him, stepping forward and bringing up his gun. When he reaches the wall he's even with one of the room's larger capacitors, and the skittering is louder than ever.

There's a low vent just behind the capacitor. "... Here," Connor says, heedless of any conversation that might be happening. "Another point of ingress."

He's ready to shoot, and just when the skittering is at its closest and clearest, it stops on its own, as though listening at the grating.
313_248_317_60: (Fire)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-02-28 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
She doesn't know what her barriers would block. Which makes more effective solutions— such as encasing the whole device inside a ward—almost as risky as physically disconnecting it. Connor's lips press together, and he steps carefully to the side, eyeing the newly revealed vent. Between his predecessor and Abhorsen, that opening should be covered, but his attention shifts around the edges of the room, trying to anticipate the next arrival.

Do they have microphones? "Possibly," he answers. "Cameras, certainly." There hadn't been audio components present in the remains he examined—but his bullet had destroyed the bulk of its "head". Now isn't the time to search and reconstruct the pieces.

His eyes snap up as another scrape echoes from the ceiling. That's two in proximity. At least. "We need this room shut down," Connor snaps. His eyes flit to the JB400 still hovering outside. "Are you programmed for systems work?"

It twitches back half a step, mouth opening for a long moment. "N-Not—"

A silver flash drops down into the hallway, and the JB's stuttered protest sharpens to a yell. Another centipede is swarming up the android. It jerks back, clawing desperately to pull the creature free... and Connor's gun rises, aim narrowing—
youcantkillme: (Who is that dog)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-01 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
A hand identical to the RK800's own lashes out, striking the gun-arm and sending the shot towards the ceiling.

"He's not dead, yet!" Connor shouts at him, every synthetic nerve tuned to an extreme. He stays there for an instant, hand poised to counter that same gun hand and keep it from swinging right back at him. It won't help the fact that the android may have other guns, but--

But nothing more should be necessary. Shouldn't.
Edited 2020-03-01 19:55 (UTC)
313_248_317_60: (Why did you have to wake up‚ when)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-01 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
A strike to his forearm, and the bullet discharges uselessly. Connor steps back, gun swiveling toward his attacker—

—only to stall, weapon faltering as his predecessor meets his stare. What is he—?
youcantkillme: (Red LED)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-01 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Shit. Shit. Connor's own gun is in his hand, and the time they're wasting burns like a candle that's almost out. Connor eyes are locked on the other RK800, but his ears are straining for Abhorsen and the JB400's status.
Edited 2020-03-01 20:35 (UTC)
313_248_317_60: (Machine)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-01 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Connor freezes, hand locked around his weapon. The other RK800's firearm is raised in mirror, leveled on his head. Past that stands Abhorsen, and past her, the centipede still swarming up its victim. He's not dead yet. The JB wasn't, but—what did his predecessor think he was shooting?

There's no time. There's no time, and—Connor's jaw clenches, eyes dragging up from the barrel of his predecessor's gun.

"I know."

He points his weapon downwards.
youcantkillme: (Default)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-01 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
The other android's gun is pointed solidly at the ground before Connor breaks his own stance. He doesn't so much lower his gun as he transitions from aiming to sprinting, all in one motion.
youcantkillme: (Five more minutes)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-02 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
He's there in less than a second, but by then Abhorsen had already been taking action. This--isn't a bad thing. It's better than what he'd been able to do, caught up in a (pointless standstill while someone fought for their life. The centipede is dashed to pieces, and for all that the lower half flails and wiggles, it's obviously not going anywhere.

Connor turns to the JB400, then pulls up short, face falling like a door slamming shut. The JB400 is frozen where he'd fallen to one knee, hands poised as though reaching for an invisible scarf. There's a bare patch of exoskeleton at his neck, and an open socket with a connection visible and easily accessible where a human would have had a pulse point.

His LED burns red at his temple. He's perfectly still.

Connor's firewalls brace, and he touches the android's shoulder with two fingers, sending a ping. The only response is a senseless stock 'Please Stand By...', and Connor lets go again, lips thin.

"Shit."

The JB400's life isn't even the only loss. If that centipede accessed the deviant's memories, and the android's knowledge of their resources and plans--it's one more thing to worry about, and they can't afford more.
313_248_317_60: (Focus)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-02 10:17 am (UTC)(link)
Connor's LED burns red, gold, gold, swimming quick circles even after his double's weapon finally turns away. He doesn't follow the others. He steps back instead, pacing a quick circuit of the room with his lowered, readied gun. Narrowing down targets no one else will interfere with.

He hopes.

When he stops, it's at an angle. Connor's eyes flick back to the other RK800 as his weapon rises, fixing on the vent their first intruder had made use of. The slats are partly crumpled, a bullet hole carving out further space—behind which a new mass of silver legs are starting to seethe forward.

"There's another one here."

The warning is terse and flat. It's followed by two shots.
youcantkillme: (Glare)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-04 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
There's a warning behind him. Then gunshots.

Connor's shoulders coil tensely, LED burning yellow on blue. Then, without a word of acknowledgement, he forces himself back into motion. There's fine legs scuttling on hollow metal somewhere nearby, and though the source isn't visible yet, Connor spots an unblocked vent several doors away.

Connor walks towards it, frowning. "If we block every exit we know about, then they'll search until they find others."

Nevertheless, he reviews the marks he saw her use inside the kill-switch room, concentrating. He's--not very clear on the energy allocations of it, but he thinks he's far enough not to be a danger. Carefully, gracelessly, he summons up marks and sends them up to the vent overhead, pouring energy into the spell.
313_248_317_60: (Unimpressed)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-04 11:41 am (UTC)(link)
He shoots. The glimpse of silver scatters. Connor waits a beat to be sure it won't resurge, then steps back from the vent with a curt "Done" to Abhorsen. She takes over, and he glances around, wondering just how many openings she can block off.

As his predecessor's pointed commentary notes: it's unlikely to be enough.

He tracks the other android's tension, and the subsequent stalk off. The RK800 is stressed by him shooting, but not enough to interfere that time. Had the JB400 been the motivating factor? It seems likely. Connor eyes the frozen shape in the doorway and scowls. Even if he had shot it, he doubts it would be worse off.

...There's one way to find out.

He glances around the room, checking for immediate hazards, then takes a couple steps to the hallway. His copy is a few doors down, and Connor glances over, logging the spellcasting with only a flicker of frustration before he turns his focus back to the red-lit JB.

"I'm going to probe its systems."

If the other Connor plans to stop him, he'd prefer to know before the act this time.
youcantkillme: (Suspicious)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-08 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Connor lowers his arms and turns. There's a second or so's pause--not long, by human standards--and then he walks towards them. He doesn't want to be involved, but strategically they should investigate the centipedes' abilities. Does he think the other RK800 will mishandle the job? ... From a technical standpoint, no. Their abilities and skillsets are essentially identical. From a compassionate standpoint--

Abhorsen speaks, and Connor glances, mouth tightening. He's within view of the LED he'd already seen earlier, and his overall conclusion is the same as then: "It looks like a system crash, at best."

By his tone, it's clear his hopes aren't high. This is no longer a question of compassion for the living, but respect for the dead, and proper handling of desperately needed recycling.

Connor tips his head at her other words, glancing down the hall. His gun is still in his right hand, and while he doesn't seem to have a use for it, he hasn't reholstered it, either.
313_248_317_60: (you could live without asking questions?)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-09 04:01 am (UTC)(link)
Low hopes. But no objections, and as Connor steps up slowly to the JB400, no new protests fill the hall. Of course, his predecessor's gun doesn't go anywhere either. If it changes its mind—

...He'll just have to be faster. Connor exhales shortly, switching his own weapon to his right hand as the skin rolls back from his left.

"Watch the hall."

He places a hand on the deviant's shoulder and initiates the probe, LED spinning quick yellow. The JB400 doesn't react, but Connor's brow furrows immediately, most of the data returning a corrupted hash. He combs through it carefully, trying to trace back to the access logs—and guard himself against any malware left inside.
youcantkillme: (Suspicious)

[personal profile] youcantkillme 2020-03-28 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
'Watch the hall.' Connor's jaw tightens by way of response, and before the distinct lack of deferral is clear, the other RK800 is immersed in the hack.

A second passes. Two seconds. The RK800 doesn't fall victim to any attacks of his own, and after a second or so more Connor checks his gun's clip, glancing around.

His hearing is good enough to catch faint sounds in the distance, and not good enough to identify what's making them. He recognizes the whisper of passive ventilation. He hears the whirr of computer fans. Are those faint footsteps? A line appears between Connor's eyebrows, as he realizes that they haven't warned the rescued deviants about the centipedes.

Connor eyes his counterpart, then Abhorsen, then the small door--

--it might be too dangerous to hack the self-destruct, but maybe there's a lower security station he can use to hack an intercom.

Connor leaves the corridor without another word, stepping back into the small room.
313_248_317_60: (Why did you have to wake up‚ when)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-03-28 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
The JB400's motor controls are undamaged. Its cognitive functions... less so. Slowly, Connor picks through the hash of half-wiped files, brushing off the occasional process trying to attach to him.

A full reconstruction proves impossible, but Connor can at least source the bulk of the damage. Memory. Files are corrupted and half-accessed, readdressed incompatibly across a wash of sectors in what seems to be an interrupted format. The centipede had been downloading stored data from this android... and resetting systems as it went.

Answers found, Connor terminates the probe, eyes blinking as he refocuses—

—on the flash of silver, dropping in his periphery. On the dig of metal claws into his arm. Connor jerks back in horror, elbow smashing against the wall—but the thing seethes past undaunted, heading for his port—

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