Sean O'Malley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sameoldsong) wrote2018-10-27 12:09 pm
sameoldsong) wrote2018-10-27 12:09 pmOPEN TO ALL (ALL RATINGS)
[Open post, feel free to continue threads here]
sameoldsong) wrote2018-10-27 12:09 pm
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[Connor doesn't read much that he ever talks about. Sean is the connoisseur, after all. But he can't help drawing the comparison.]
When I was a kid, I couldn't shake the feeling that the entire world might have just been made up. Like all this was all there was. Just...the thousand people that lived in there with me, and all this empty nothing. Amanda thought it was a stupid idea, but...I don't know. I think maybe I was scared I was right.
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[Sean had read a lot of things, horrible and otherwise, but nothing had gotten him the way 'I Have No Mouth' did, which frankly had scared the shit out of Sean the first time he read it. It was horrible, the idea of being tortured over and over again until you had your entire sense of self stripped from you. Benny had given him nightmare especially, just the idea of having every single pillar of yourself turned against you, until the 'you' that you were was gone, forever.
The second bit is a little confusing at first, until he realizes what Connor's saying, and then Sean nods, because yeah, he gets that a little. Not the same as Connor, but... small towns are all the same.]
That sounds terrifying to feel that way as a kid... The world always seemed more like a story to me when I was a kid. But, I guess I always figured I'd eventually head out there, like the heroes always did the fairy tales. Second-last son, out on the road with a ball of yarn, or a bag of seeds, or some other half-magic thing to lead the way.
[He wants to ask who Amanda was. Was that one of his guardians? Or someone else in the town? Connor doesn't have many good things to say about his history - or much at all, really. The thing Sean knows most is that this place is pretty, and quiet, and lonely.]
... is Amanda still here? Or is she... gone?
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[As they get closer to the tower, it becomes clear that this isn't so much a town as it is a complex, and a sterile one at that, all spread out from the base of the main structure. There don't seem to be any signs of life, just the dull back and forth of automated trucks with no operators. It all blends in with the scenery from further away, save for the tower proper.
A massive, smooth gate lies in front of the entry road, flanked by men in dark uniforms. He rolls down his window and looks out at the one on his side, and his tone grows chilly, clinical, almost robotic.]
ID number 313 248 317, Connor Stern. I'm escorting a witness under protective custody, and requesting medical attention code 1310, nonfatal.
[Definitely not standard police, and definitely another layer of weird to deepen the alarm surrounding Connor's everything.
When they're allowed past, the gate in front of them sinks into the road itself. He rolls his window up and breathes a sigh of relief. They'd be able to put Sean up without incident.]
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Well it's weird. Very weird. Connor said he'd grown up in a remote place. He didn't mention it was a compound. Granted, if Sean had grown up in a compound, would he tell anyone? Jesus. Never. He'd do pretty much anything not to mention it.
But hey, for the first time, Sean finds himself actually wondering if he really will be safe here, instead of certain he'll die. It's one thing for the mob to follow him to a small town. It's another to get into a compound with a gate, and ID numbers, and codes and... everything. Even the way Connor speaks gets weird and strange, and a little scary really.
Sean just sits in his seat with his hands in his lap, watching Connor as he relaxes, and becomes more like himself again...]
Uh. Yeah. Yeah... It's uh... like Fort Knox in here, huh?
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[Connor hadn't been sworn to secrecy when he'd left this place, but he wouldn't talk about it unless he absolutely had to. Who would believe him? More than that, it just doesn't seem important in his day to day. It's easy to be vague about in smalltalk as long as he kept names out of it.
Connor pulls around to a smaller multilevel building, the same chilly exterior as everywhere else in the complex revealing nothing about it but a panel at the ground entrance of the parking structure labeling this a "habitation center". From here it doesn't take long for Connor to get his car parked in a rather empty low level lot, and take Sean to the elevator that's very clean and a cozy sort of warmth that carries further inside.
At the hall the doors upen up to, it looks more habitable, tiled in a warm cream color with smooth white walls, and several doors along the corridor, all with panels identical to the one that Connor stops in front of. He lays his fingertips against it and the door audibly unlocks. Then he gestures Sean forward.]
Here, put your hand on it, and then you'll be the only one that can get in here unless you specify anyone else.
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It feels like a hospital building. But not a regular one. A specialty hospital, where you go when you've got something the regular doctors can't fix. It gives him the creeps. Jesus... and Connor grew up here? In this place?
... no wonder he thought arresting Sean would work out well if this was the kind of environment he was used to. He probably couldn't understand why it'd been so hurtful to Sean to have his trust in Connor abused like that, and turned against him. Even in the places where it gets less hospital-y, it's still got a kind of... like. Sean's not sure of the words exactly, but it all feels too perfect, in the wrongest way. Like everything is the same, and every inch the same, and if anything weren't, then it would have to go...
He steps forward when Connor tells him to, looking at the panel.]
Uh, sure.
[He puts his hand flat on it, so it can get all his fingerprints and palm lines and whatever else it uses. It's got a weird, warm and staticy feeling to it. The promise of nobody getting in except him, or who he wants, is nice but... who'd he even want in here besides him anyway? He doesn't know anyone here. And just by looking around, Sean's not sure they'd want to get to know him either.
Sean steps inside the room and looks around.]
Did you grow up in uh... this place? The... habitation center? Or somewhere else?
[There hadn't been much in the way of houses as far as Sean had seen when they came in, but maybe they were around, just in the back somewhere.]
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The apartment looks like a magazine spread, clean and modern, with pristine decorations and comfortable seating, a fully stocked kitchen positively glittering. It's a studio space, and the bed is partitioned off on an upper level up a small set of stairs, while underneath a large desk sits with a computer and ample writing space. A huge picture window rests along the far wall, tinted subtly to cut the glare of sunlight coming in. A bathroom sits open on the adjacent wall, just as clean as the rest with chrome fixtures and smooth marble surfaces.
Connor moves further into the apartment, glancing around, then back to Sean.]
In the main structure.
Sean, I know this is all really, really weird for you. It's only temporary but I get that these things leave a lasting impression. I will tell you anything you want to know, after I've been treated. Whatever will make this easier to bear until it's safe for you to return home.
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[The place is probably the nicest place Sean's ever been in where he wasn't someone else's guest. Though, thinking about it, he still is someone else's guest here. It looks like something out of a movie, y'know, where the young hip rich people lounge around while fucking their way into and out of every problem they have. Like a showroom selling him on putting down a deposit to live here for like, a million dollars a year.
It's a little overwhelming. He drops his bags by the door near where Connor put his others, and he just does the slow turn as he looks in it. Connor's still talking though, so he forces himself to pay attention.]
Uh. Okay.
[And as he turns, his eyes light on Sean's makeshift wound treatment. He quickly makes a face. Jesus right, how could he have let himself forget? Connor sure couldn't, not when he had a bullet in him.]
Yeah no, uh, go get that taken care of before it gets any worse. I'll... be here.
[Not like he has anywhere else he can go. Especially not when he's got this ankle bracelet on, and he knows that they sure aren't easy to cut off, or tamper with.]
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It's good that Sean seems to like the place; he'd have tried to get him switched to one of the other apartments if he didn't care for this one. Connor's biggest concern in the here and now is Sean's well-being, both physical and mental. Nothing could hurt him here. He wouldn't have to worry about anything. It would be a jarring experience, after everything else he's been through, Connor knows that much.]
Make yourself at home. Eat something. And...here.
[He kneels as he talks, reaching for the tracker anklet Sean had been made to wear when the court order had been handed down. Within moments of fiddling, he has it off, and he hands it over.]
It's still functional, but you can just leave it here. We're not holding you prisoner.
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But his moping is promptly interrupted as Connor kneels down and easily takes the anklet off.]
Are you sure, I... won't you get in trouble for taking it off?
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[He points it out like a matter of fact, putting the anklet in one of the drawers of the kitchen island where Sean would know where it is.
A chime at the door alerts them to the arrival of another person, dressed in sterile white scrubs when Connor answers the door. There's brief conversation, then Connor turns back around and flashes Sean a strained little smile.]
There's unlimited hot water when you wanna take a shower. I'm gonna go get patched up.
[He doesn't wait for Sean to respond. The sooner he's on his way, the sooner he can get patched up, and the sooner Sean won't have to worry about it anymore. Or about seeing him. He'll be left alone after that to get his bearings, to eat or rest or take a shower, and discover the other interesting thing about the apartment: that everything can be voice-activated if he finds the command list posted on one of the counters.
The next time he hears from Connor, it'll be a simple message:]
Bullet's out, painkillers kicked in. Wasn't as bad as it looked.
I'm going home tomorrow.
Is there anything I can bring you?
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[But he's gone before Sean can say anything. And then he's left alone. In this big, empty apartment. With every possession packed in a suitcase.
Well. Alright.
Sean takes Connor's advice on the shower, because a police holding cell isn't exactly a comfortable place to do anything, and showering isn't really an option for short-term holds. He gets out of the jail's clothes and promptly climbs in, turning it up hot. Oh jesus that's nice. His shower at home-
His shower at the apartment never stayed hot for long, if ever. Sean sticks himself under the water and scrubs off sweat and stink from the past few days, before he just leans against the wall and lets it beat against his back. And he just... he just stays there, and tries to make his stress drain away, even though he can still feel the tension running through his back. It's fucked up how quickly you can go from feeling like things are great, to things being awful.
Eventually, he emerges, and he drags his bags over to the loft, and changes, and then starts putting some stuff out. Sean still feels like he's trespassing, like at any moment, somebody's going to turn up and yell at him to stop and get out. At least he doesn't feel like he's going to get assassinated...
It's when Sean's poking around that he finds the command list, and realizes he can just talk to the apartment which is... very weird. Very sci-fi. All of it is very, very sci-fi... And he's still not sure where he heard the name CyberLife before. Sean looks over the voice commands, and tries talking to the room itself.]
Uh. Hey? Computer? Uh? ... master control? No uh-
[There was a name right? The computer has a name, like phones do. Where is it, where is it-]
Hey Chloe? Can you hear me? ... Chloe, can you tell me about CyberLife-
[He's interrupted when he hears his phone ding with a new message. Sean quickly heads over to see who it's from-
Oh. Connor. Sean feels a weird lurch of emotion run through him, thrilled, and then angry, and then just plain confused. And then... weirdly disappointed. And that's- that's a stupid way to feel. It's a really stupid way to feel about it.
He sits down and texts back. Usually, Sean's texts are loose and full of emojis. It's... hard putting a smiley face behind anything right now.]
Okay good to hear glad youre okay.
I think im okay just learning how this stuff works. I found the instructions for talking to the room and fridge.
I dont know if i need anything yet still unpacking.
[After an agonizing moment, Sean snaps a picture of the half-unpacked bags. He wouldn't have second-guessed sending anything before. But that was before Connor used stuff told him against him...
He sends it anyway. Not like Sean has any more secrets. They all got poured out and written down and handed off to the police.]
Kinda messy still.
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The picture brings mixed feelings. It's really sinking in that he more or less forced Sean to uproot his life. He feels awful. Even knowing Sean will be totally safe here, it's small comfort compared to how damned angry the man was at him. He almost doesn't text back more than a basic instruction.]
Just say the name of what you're using. Like "TV on" and that kind of thing.
Refrigerator is still manual, just so that you can't accidentally order it to make a bunch of ice and dump it all over the floor.
Think like the Enterprise.
[In fact, in between when Sean had requested information on CyberLife and when he'd received that text, the tablet display screen on the refrigerator itself had popped up an article detailing the basics of the company. They seem to have a sterling reputation and squeaky clean history. Their main products seem to be bioengineered products including replacement organs and other advancements in stem-cell research, prosthetics, home aids, and computer research for systems that would automate the home. Speculation in the last paragraphs of the article lead down even more sci-fi routes, touting research into AI-driven androids that could very well be integrated seamlessly into the general public as household appliances. Photos and names accompany it, including those Sean already knows: Amanda Stern and Elijah Kamski, the former an austere-looking black woman with model-esque poise, and a young man in glasses with long hair pulled back into a ponytail, in a simple tshirt and hoodie. Polar opposites and, apparently, close colleagues.
The people that had turned Connor into a maladjusted, but well-meaning boy.]
If you haven't started looking through the cupboards yet, there should be a lot of ready to eat stuff if you're hungry. You can also have food brought up from the kitchens. You should be able to bring up a menu on the fridge display.
[A few moments later, a forwarded attachment comes, a photo taken by Connor's friend of Musubi gnawing on a large treat stick. Something to maybe help ease the tension.]
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This place is all really super scifi I feel like I got alien abducted
I finished taking a shower youre right the waters really hot here
Ill go figure out something to eat
hey are you[Sean nearly asks if Connor's coming over before he leaves but... he thinks twice and deletes it. Connor said he'd tell Sean anything. That didn't need them being face to face. Which... was probably for the best anyway. Connor really wanted things to go back to the way they were before. But how could they, when Sean's before was now gone? And it's hard to forgive someone when they don't even really seem to understand why it hurt so bad...
And yet, he's stupid enough to still be sad, and to miss Connor anyway. He sighs, and types again after a moment.]
Musubi looks happy with that treat 🐶 good boy please give him a big pet from me when you see him tomorrow
[He's so stupid sometimes. Sean sighs, and walks over to check out the fridge-
Oh! There's information on the fridge! Right where the tablet is. Sean stops to scroll through it, realizing that it's what he ask Chloe for. And Sean has heard of them before, they were the ones who were doing stuff with robots and AIs and stuff. He stops to look at the photo of Amanda and Elijah. God... look at them. They're the ones who raised Connor...
What would that have been like, having people raise you who made it clear to you that you weren't their child, you were just a child that they had to care for? Not good... the kind of not good that made it easy to focus on doing what you think is the right solution, and makes it easy to justify any hurt you'll cause.
Sean sighs. He opens the fridge and starts poking around for stuff to eat. And-]
Thank you Chloe!
[Sean has manners after all. When someone gets you what you want, you say thank you. Even if that person is really just a robot. Sean's read a lot of sci-fi, they have feelings too.]
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When the informational article closes, it's instead replaced by an image of a beautiful blonde girl, watching Sean move about the kitchen to collect something to eat.]
You're very welcome, Mr. O'Malley. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask.
[Her voice is sweet and pleasant, unaccented, a lot like Connor's got when he was all business.]
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Sean promptly abandons his quest for food to cove back over. She looks human... but... maybe she looks like a really good computer graphic too?]
Uh... thanks. Are... you're an- you're an AI, right? One of the ones in the article that they mentioned at the end? Can you see me?
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Yes. My name is Chloe, but you already knew that. I was tasked to assist you in whatever way you might need to feel at home here. It's good to meet you! I can't see you, though. There are motion sensors arranged though the apartment, mostly to keep the lights on wherever you are, or turn them out where you're not.
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He's starting to get in too deep, so he just nods.
Then he remembers she can't exactly see that, and speaks instead.]
It's good meeting you too. Thanks for the information about CyberLife. Have you been here for a long time?
[He heads over to one of the cupboards, poking around. Something occurs to him...]
Do you know Connor?
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I was made here! Elijah has been working on perfecting my program for the last two decades, and allowing me to interact with our guests here.
[She pauses at the mention of Connor, then smiles brightly.]
When I was given an android body, I was his caretaker and tutor. Then when he left us, we used to write back and forth, but he drew away when he got older. I haven't seen him in a long time. How is he doing? There was a medical alert upon his arrival.
[She looks worried at that, brow softly furrowed and pink lips pursed in concern.]
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Sean ends up finding a box of generic fish-shaped crackers, and he grabs those, and the hunk of cheese he saw earlier in the fridge, making himself a meal of them. Yeah okay, this is peak lazy, but it's fine, he'll figure out more later.
For now, he grabs a chair and a knife, and scoots over to sit in front of the fridge to talk to Chloe, using the pairing knife to cut off little bits of cheese to pair with his crackers.]
So, are you the kind of A.I. where you can be running on two machines at the same time? And do you still have your body, or is that the kind of thing you don't need anymore, now that you don't have a child running around.
[He pauses to eat a little before he gives her some information too. He tries not to be negative. It's clear that she cares about Connor.]
I think he's okay. He's got a dog, and he's got his job as a cop. Right now, he's in the middle of making a big case to take down part of our local mob. Which is why I'm here, since I got roped into being his star witness. That's what the medical emergency was. He got shot when we were getting the stuff out of my apartment to come here.
... so if anybody strange tries to show up and come in, don't let them.
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[She actually seems quite proud of the notion. Every emotional inflection is simulated, almost perfect, but thereare still hintsof strangeness here and there. Even her voice is manufactured, and nuanced though it is, still sounds just the slightest bit stilted.
Even the concern in her expression, however sincere it may be, looks a little exaggerated on the digital avatar's face. Like she's still trying to get emoting right.]
There was something on the news this evening... Two men were found dead in the tenement where you were seen most often. The police are supposed to be searching for your whereabouts, according to the press release. I think maybe they've been given the idea that you've gone missing.
If any of them somehow made their way here, they would not be allowed to enter. They won't be coded into the system, nobody here can be bribed, and killing any of us would constitute immediate arrest and imprisonment on bases of felony trespassing, espionage, and destruction of property.
[It's a very final sort of statement, almost threatening, even in her programmed-pleasant tone. Then she seems to shake it off, looking back in Sean's direction.]
What kind of dog does he have? He talked about getting one when he was younger.
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[But, inevitably, they get back to more uncomfortable topics. It's hard not to. Sean sighs and nods, almost instantly forgetting that Chloe can't see him.]
Yeah, that's... that's me. And one of them's the one that shot at us, and got Connor because he was protecting me. Otherwise it'd probably be my head all over that wall. Jesus. Sorry, I don't- I won't get too nasty about that stuff. I don't know how much you can stomach. ... well I- anyway, you can tell me if it's too much.
[Can robots be squeamish? He's not sure, but he's also not going to be rude. Anyway, it's comforting to know that actually there is someone here who can't be bribed or blackmailed or threatened at all. Sean's not sure if she could save him if the time came but... y'know. She seems like she'd warn him at least, and probably help him escape safely. So a little more of the tension he's been carrying drains out. He's not alone here, even after Connor goes home.
Dogs are much, much easier to talk about.]
It's one of those really big white fluffy ones! He told me the name once but I... uh... it's a... samoid? Sameids? He's huge and white and fluffy and friendly, and his name's Musubi. I've met him a few times now, he's a very good dog and Connor's really happy with him. He says he feels bad sometimes because he's working long hours, but he leaves the TV on for Musubi so he's not alone, and he still gets walks and stuff. Here-
[And Sean pulls up the photo Connor sent him, and shows it to the screen on the fridge.]
He just got this one from the fellow dogsitting Musubi! Apparently this Gavin fellow is spoiling him absolutely rotten.
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[It's not something that she would like to talk about, no matter how casual her tone may be. It's good when he follows the polite diversion to show her Connor's dog. Even though she can't see the gesture, or the photo that Sean is trying to show her, Chloe still smiles. It's a sweet gesture, that she can tell by the context of his words and the shift of his voice as he holds the phone out.]
Samoyed. Native to cold northern climates, they were bred to be able to forge paths through snowy landscapes, as well as to blend in with them. They're naturally very social. It is a good choice for him.
He's still friends with Gavin Reed?
[She sounds curious at that, but rather than waiting for his response, she instead looks distracted for a second, as if a thought has just occurred to her.]
Connor's going to be released from surgery soon and will be resting for the evening. He will be kept lightly medicated until tomorrow morning while he starts to heal.
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[Oh, she cuts him off with an update on Connor. Sean ends up sighing a little with relief.]
Oh good. Thank God. I know it didn't look deadly but you never know about those things you know? God, I knew a guy who got shot with a .22 once, and you wouldn't think a bullet that small could do so much damage, but they just... they bounce around inside of you. A slug hits and stays in place, but a .22, it bounces. You can see where it went in, but the doctors have to scan to figure out where it ended up.
[And it feels weird, because... he wants to see Connor, make sure he's okay. But... he. Doesn't. Sean looks down at his phone, at Connor's dog...]
Hey, Chloe? ... Connor's pretty... focused, huh? Like, really good at solving problems and puzzles... picking the uh... the quickest solution. Did they reward that here?
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Oh yes, he was designed to be the perfect investigative tool, and to deliver the most optimal solution at all costs. He is exceptionally bright, too. Rather than picking the Occam's Razor method, he is singularly equipped to determine the most practical outcome.
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