musetrash | open rp post ➲ picture prompt meme

[gimme overlook!!]

[The hotel has started to wear on them.

Gene had known better than to think there would be no strings attached to a stay at hotel so fancy he never could have dreamed of visiting back home, even if it was snowbound in the Colorado mountains. But now it's-

Even just thinking about it, letting himself acknowledge it sends a shiver up his spine that has nothing to do with the howling wind and snow outside the Overlook's sturdy walls. It's like something out of a story his grandma used to tell him and his brothers and sisters about to scare them off of playing by the bayou at night, or staying out too late on the water, except it's real, and he can't-

Well. It's somehow a lot worse than plenty of stuff he'd seen during the war.

He's figured out it's worse when he lets his mind wander. As long as he's got a task to do, something that keeps him from turning to look at the pale, bloody forms of Van Klinken, Blithe, Miller, even Captain Meehan, Renee staring at him accusingly, he'll be okay. This is just another example of truly fucked up shit the Admiral's decided to throw at them. It's just about endurance.

So when he spots a familiar figure standing perfectly still a little further down the hallway, seemingly staring at the wall without seeing anything, it's almost a relief. Something to do, someone to help. It's fine.]

Connor?

[Connor is malfunctioning.

He's been running self-diagnostics in the background of his program since he first experienced a flash of anger early that morning when one of the other wardens had been acting unreasonable in a discussion over breakfast. It had been hot and unfamiliar in his chest and his mind, making his thirium pulse heavy in his temples, and he'd known it was wrong the moment he identified the strange intensity of the emotion. He wasn't supposed to feel fury. Irritation, frustration perhaps, but not the hot burn of real anger.

Once he'd known he was exhibiting emotions incorrectly (the way a deviant does) he'd started self-testing, looking for the developing error in his programming. There were no facilities for a reboot or anything close to it in the hotel. He had to identify the malfunction and isolate the subroutine causing it until they could get back to the Barge.

Unfortunately, that plan had been easier said than done. The self-tests brought back nothing at first and he found himself irritable, angry, scared, and he devoted more processing power to searching for the anomaly. There were no connections to a wider internet or Cyberlife files - all he had to search through was his own internal service manuals - and he couldn't find the errors causing this. His scans came back negative, but he knew there was something badly wrong. Had the deviants he'd hunted with the Lieutenant felt this way? This infuriating search for internal errors, the swirling mess of uncontrollable emotion? Was he turning into a deviant too?

This hopeless cycle had been going on all day until here he was, his limbs slack and still, body frozen, eyes open and staring at nothing. All his power is devoted to diagnostics, his LED spinning yellow, blinking on and off, on and off, on and off.

When Gene calls out his name, he hears nothing and doesn't move.]

[There's a brief moment where Gene wonders if Connor's just a hallucination too, just some ghost trying to unsettle him like-]

Doc Roe?

[The shade of Private James Miller, blood still dripping from the shrapnel wound between his eyes, down his face, blue eyes wide and dazed but still somehow accusatory, but Connor's just standing there. No blood, no open wounds, just... standing there, staring at the wall.

Gene walks over, hearing the phantom sound of snow crunching under his jump boots and hunching a little in his jacket, gently nudging at the other warden's arm once he's close enough.]

Hey, Connor.

[The touch, at least, is enough to snap Connor out of the cycle he's got himself stuck in. For just a moment his body jerks mechanically as power diverts inside his system and brings him back to himself and where he is. His LED stutters, yellow finally flickering back to blue.

It's disorienting to realise he doesn't know how long he's been standing there. And there's still a problem in his system, something horribly wrong, but he can't find it this way. The temptation to try again is still there but the person who touched him is Gene, shivering, hunched in on himself, a little wide-eyed.

Connor was made by humans to help humans; maybe he can focus on helping Gene and keep himself from going deviant until they get back to the ship. He blinks at the other warden, head tipping a little to one side.]

Gene?

[Gene flinches backwards as Connor flails, an instinctive fight or flight response kicking in only to be ruthlessly shoved down. This isn't a threat, it's Connor. Connor, who's clearly not doing so well himself, and so Gene doesn't spook much beyond that, watching Connor come back into himself cautiously, but relaxing a little when he sees the other warden recognize him.

(A little. His shoulders feel stiff and tight again, just like they did during the entire fucking siege.)

When the other warden speaks, he nods, brow furrowing, concern evident in his expression and voice.]

How long've you been standin' there?

Edited 2018-09-06 01:48 (UTC)

[Connor searches for an answer to Gene's question. His internal clock is normally ticking away, keeping track of time without him being aware of it, but his frantic diagnostics stole the power away from it. He's never lost track of time before.]

I don't know.

[He sounds a little lost when he says it, his voice quieter than usual.]

[Fuck. Connor never loses track of things like that. The pressing uneasiness and anxiety that's been creeping back up his spine since they got here feels all the worse with the realization, and Gene chews his lip for a moment, struggling to think of something to do or offer to help.

(And resolutely ignoring the figure in his peripheral vision. He recognizes the uniform - of course he does - but the figure's indistinguishable because its face has been blown off.)]

You doin' okay? [Gene knows he's not, but probing might stop him from looking at the faceless trooper. Connor needs help, there's nothing he can do for whatever spirit's decided to haunt him here. Latching on to that helps ease the tightness in his chest, the sensation that his heart's beating too hard.] Wanna come sit by the fire for a while, get you warmed up?

Edited 2018-09-06 02:08 (UTC)

[It's an effort, but Connor forces himself to shake away the fear and uncertainty and anger threatening to rise up in him again. He's never felt anything like this before, but there's something in Gene's face, in his voice, in his desire to help, that Connor can use as a kind of anchor now.

The corridor is cold. He only notices it when Gene mentions getting warm; he doesn't need heat, of course. It's not cold enough to do any damage to his biocomponents or freeze his thirium. But the reminder of the temperature makes him take notice of Gene's own pale skin and cloudy breath. He could use the heat even if Connor doesn't need it. He nods as he answers.]

Yes, Tech Sergeant. Let's go.

[He waits for Gene to lead the way, knowing it'll help him to be helping. He answers his first question as they make their way back to a warmer room.]

I am experiencing unusual emotional malfunctions.

[Gene's been colder, and he wasn't offering for himself, but it's still a relief that Connor agrees to get moving. The hollow black hole where the man's face once was is boring into him even without looking directly at it, and he's glad to lead the way back to the lobby and its roaring fire.

He hunches in on himself, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, keeping his eyes firmly on the path in front of them. It's fine. Nothing he's seeing is real.

A prickle of discomfort shudders through him at Connor's admission.]

What kinda malfunctions? [He does his best to keep his voice level and reassuring, really not sure he wants to talk about what he's been seeing. Putting it into words seems like it would be giving them some sort of life, make it more real.]

Heightened negative emotions, in an intensity I'm not meant to experience.

[His explanations to Gene are usually more extensive, but he's still distracted trying to keep his emotions in check. Now that he isn't stuck in a loop, Connor can scan again - not that he has access to police files or other external sources of information, but he can see that Gene's respiration and heart rate are both elevated. He seems to be experiencing the unpleasant effects of this place in his own way.]

Are you all right, Tech Sergeant?

'm alright, [He answers automatically, even though he knows Connor won't believe him and probably won't let it go that easily. The other warden is uncannily observant, and Gene has a feeling that would be the case even if Connor couldn't scan people.

Which is still pretty weird to think about, even after knowing him as long as he has.]

Jus' don't like bein' so cold.

[That's true enough at least, and he moves towards the fire eagerly. It's more than just the heat - there's something reassuring about it, like maybe the ghosts will stay away while they're close to something bright and hot and warm.]

You been seein' anythin' else weird about this place?

[Connor follows, the bright yellow of the flames playing warmly over their skin as they get close. It is oddly reassuring to get closer to the fireplace, and he can see Gene's tight muscles relax just a little as they do. He glances around the room after the medic asks the question, scanning for anything that seems out of place. Nothing.]

No, I don't see anything.

[A moment's pause, while Connor decides whether or not to ask the obvious question.]

What have you seen?

I don' really know. [That seems safe to admit, at least, and it's even somewhat reassuring to hear that whatever's going on might not be affecting Connor the way it's affecting him.

Not in the same way, anyway.

Gene sits down on a couch facing the fireplace before he says anything else, reaching inside his jacket pocket for his comm and handing it over to the other warden so Connor can see for himself.]

Couple of people've been sayin' they're seein' things. Bad stuff. I was wonderin' if maybe your bad feelings were related.

[Connor is just wondering whether he should press Gene on what exactly that means when he pulls out his comm and continues. Connor, obviously, hasn't looked as his own communicator since early this morning and he takes Gene's, scrolling through the various posts he's missed.]

It could be.

[Seeing the anger and fear working its way through the rest of the Barge crew is almost a relief. Maybe this isn't his program getting corrupted after all.]

If it is, it's possible it can't affect my optical sensors the way it affects humans.

So it's goin' for your brain instead. [Which isn't all that comforting, in some ways.

Gene stares into the fire, wondering if there was anything they could do to help keep Connor keep the frustration or anger in check. Not knowing what was causing all this in the first place made it difficult to find a solution for humans, let alone androids. This was-]

Julian! JULIAN!

[Gene jumps, head whipping around, eyes wide. The lobby behind them is empty, of course, but Babe Heffron's desperate screaming seems to echo over the howling wind outside anyway.]

[He's told Gene before about the difference between a human brain and his own programmed equivalent. He doesn't think it's quite correct that it's going for his brain - it seems more like it's attacking his thoughts - and he's about to suggest this when suddenly Gene's shooting bolt upright like he's been hit by an electric shock.

He doesn't hear or see anything except Gene's sudden frantic turn, the way his heart rate skyrockets and he's suddenly tensed up as if he's expecting a barrage of artillery to come smashing through the windows right at them. Connor scans the room again, focusing on the direction Gene's staring, but there's nothing there.]

What is it, Tech Sergeant?

[Gene snaps back towards Connor for a moment, as if he forgot he was there or just needs to check that he still is before going back to staring at the empty lobby.]

You didn't-? [He stops himself from completing the question. Of course Connor wouldn't have heard anything - he's apparently experiencing this place differently than everyone else.

It takes a minute for him to settle down enough to turn away, shuddering violently, like a dog trying to dry itself off. Babe's not here, and Julian's dead. No one's going to be screaming for a medic or needing comfort because the Krauts are going to be stripping the body of a friend they had to leave behind.

Gene runs a hand over his face, pushing his fingers through his dark hair, centering himself.]

It's nothin'. No one's there.

[Whether he's saying it for his own benefit or Connor's is unclear.]

[Even though he already scanned the room, Connor does it again, being careful just in case he missed something, but there really is nothing there. There's an uncomfortable twist of anxiety in his chest, which he tries to ignore. Gene's seeing things and, judging from the stricken look on his face and the way he drags his hand down his face, they're not good.

There's nowhere they can go in this weather. The driving snow and the cold may not bother him but Gene wouldn't last long out in the middle of it, let alone the rest of the Barge denizens. There are no vehicles that anyone found, as far as he knows.

He examines the medic for a moment or two more before he speaks carefully, voice dropping, concern obvious in his tone.]

What did you see, Gene?

Edited 2018-09-06 05:02 (UTC)

Nothin’. [He’s telling the truth. There’s no sign of Heffron - yet, anyway - and no Julian choking to death on his own blood with his throat ripped open. Gene knows there wasn’t anything anyone could have done, that the patrol had to leave him there, but he can’t help but wonder if they’d let him come, if maybe the Germans would have been merciful when they saw he was a medic just trying to drag the kid to safety, maybe-

It’s something he’s thought about a lot since it happened, the same way he’s thought about all the guys he couldn’t save, and for a moment he just focuses on breathing, trying to force himself to calm down.]

I heard someone yellin’. Someone from back home. [The admission comes slowly, almost against his will, and he knows it probably sounds crazy to Connor who might not be capable of hallucinating the way he is. He schools his expression carefully, not wanting to give the android more reason to worry. He’s fine, he’s calm. He can handle this.]

Been seein’ some stuff too.

[Connor probably isn't capable of hallucinating the same way, but the manifestation of unknown program errors in himself could easily count as a kind of android hallucination, right? There's the evidence from the posts on the network and his own experiences to back up what Gene's saying. He doesn't sound crazy and he's not showing others signs of any break with reality.]

You're experiencing hallucinations.

[It's almost a question, but not quite, and he nods sympathetically. That's the only explanation that's logical, even though the Barge isn't always a logical place.]

Were they calling for you? It could be some kind of trap or attempt to lure people to separate from one another.

No. [Well, that’s not strictly true, and he grimaces as he catches himself.] Not this time.

[Sometimes they’re not calling for him either, they just seem scared or like they want to talk. Some of them seem angry, and there’s a part of him that goes white hot with anger as he thinks about the hotel manipulating his memories of the dead, using them like this, while another part just feels sick with dread that they were all counting on him and he couldn’t do anything to save them. Sometimes there’s just nothing that can be done.

He swallows, nodding in agreement with Connor. That makes sense. Probably better to keep people isolated and afraid than together and supported.]

I know they ain’t really here. Been tryin’ to just ignore them as best I can, but Heffron- [He pulls a face, uncomfortable.] He ain’t dead, guess it caught me off guard.

Edited 2018-09-06 12:15 (UTC)

[It's a sign of how much he's still off-balance from the loop he got trapped in that it takes him a moment or two to realise that what Gene's saying means that everyone he's been seeing and hearing have been dead. Who would he see if he was human? The deviant on the roof? Ortiz's android?

Not that they're dead. Machines can't die. He knows that. He knows the difference.]

Heffron?

[It comes out without him fully intending to ask, not weighing all the options of what he could say before he says it.]

One of the guys in my unit. Redhead, from Philly. [He’d dragged Gene out of his foxhole when he’d been too drawn in on himself to respond to Winters’s calls for a medic. That was the last time he saw him before he left for the Barge all of an hour later. He’d had a bad cold earlier but Gene didn’t remember hearing his barking cough while Heffron was yelling at him to get out of his hole.

He hopes he’s okay. Hopes hearing him here is just a prank, not a sign that-

Gene sniffs, the cold - or the reminder of it - making it feel like his nose is on the edge of running.] His buddy Julian got hit in the neck on a patrol. Bled to death. No one could get to him because the Germans kept shootin’ at anyone who got close. Heard Heffron yellin’ for him.

Edited 2018-09-06 16:30 (UTC)

[Connor listens, intent on Gene's explanation. It's easier to focus on the other warden's voice and his words (the way his heart rate picks up a fraction when he talks about having to leave Julian where he was) than to let his creeping fear of his own deviancy take over. He won't be any use if he lets it take over again.]

I thought there was an unspoken policy of leniency for medics attending wounded soldiers.

[He did some reading up about World War II after he met Gene, recalls the passages that spoke about it.]

I wasn't there. [It comes out even enough, but the sharp ache of shame at admitting it settles over him heavily all the same as he watches the flames eat away at the wood in the fireplace.] Told me to stay back and keep outta trouble before they left.

[They might not have stopped if he was there, he knows that, but he hunches in on himself even more, bracing himself against the chill.

But then he catches himself doing it and shakes his head a little - snap out of it - and looks back up at Connor and away from the fire.]

Sorry. You lemme know if anythin' I'm saying's making things worse, okay?

Oh.

[Connor doesn't exactly wince, but he comes close. He was made to be aware of social cues and fit seamlessly into a team and that feels like a misstep. Gene doesn't sound devastated saying it or anything, but there's something in his voice. The turn of the conversation back to him is welcome enough, even if it sends him back thinking about corruption and deviancy.]

Sure.

[He hesitates for a moment but eventually starts to try and explain:] It's not anything you've said. There's... been an increasing number of cases related to androids going rogue at home. It's called deviancy. The deviants are often violent to their owners and other humans around them. We don't know what causes it. But they display emotional malfunctions.

[Being reminded that Connor has an owner where he comes from is always unsettling, as is the reminder that Connor doesn’t actually experience emotions the way a human does. He seems so human, with a personality and what seems like genuine empathy. Even after knowing him for a while, it’s still hard to think of him as anything but a person.

Still, he definitely understands feeling unsettled when you’re overwhelmed by things out of your control.]

I get it, [He finally says, voice gentle, hopefully reassuring.] It’s scary, feelin’ like you don’ have any control and don’t know what’s gonna happen. But I bet it’s jus’ this place. Doesn’t mean you’re gonna go crazy.

Edited 2018-09-06 21:54 (UTC)

I hope not. We don't have the facilities here to reboot me properly if I do.

[He says it a little wryly, almost like a joke, but of course it's not a joke at all.]

[It's at least enough to get a small, twitchy smile out of Gene. It's over and gone in a flash, but maybe that's better than nothing.]

There anything that helps 'em, once they've gone deviant? [Is there something he can do to help you is mostly what he's curious about. This definitely feels like one of those things that gets worse before it gets better.]

[Unfortunately, there's not a really hopeful answer he can give here. He sits back in his chair, shifting his feet a fraction on the floor, shaking his head.]

We don't know what causes it. Deviants that we've caught so far have been taken apart to search for malfunctioning biocomponents or errors in programming, but nothing has been identified yet.

[A tiny frown creases his brows.]

A lot of them have been damaged or destroyed in the process of capturing them. Deviants are prone to self-destruct. And there was one - it struck its head against the cell's window until it destroyed itself.

Jesus. [It slips out without thinking, and he carefully tries to school his expression into something that's not horrified just thinking about it. That's not going to happen to Connor.

(This is why he's not supposed to make friends. Watching Connor destroy himself sounds about as bad as watching guys get obliterated by mortar fire, and a heavy tension settles on his shoulders.)

He takes a breath, settles for something calming, the same voice he uses when he's telling a scared replacement that the shrapnel he's pulling out of their arm isn't that bad, that they're going to be okay.]

Well, whatever it is ain't gonna be permanent. Just gotta keep calm until this is all over.

[Gene's reaction is strangely reassuring - his first instinctual reaction, that is. That horror is somehow kinder than just the disgust or pity of the other police officers in the DPD and it makes him feel a little better.

(He'd felt his own kind of muted horror watching Carlos Ortiz's android bash its head open against the glass, the blue thirium dripping down the window, as much as he probably should have only felt irritation at the destruction of a deviant that could have been tested by Cyberlife.)

Connor looks at Gene and nods, grateful for the comfort. It's strange to be treated as human, but he's used to Gene's need to help others by now and at the moment he welcomes it.]

Tell me, if you see me start acting erratically again, okay? Stop me if you can.

Edited 2018-09-07 03:23 (UTC)

Sure thing. [It's an easy promise to make, even if there's still lingering anxiety at the idea of watching the android lose himself. Gene has no real idea of what to do if Connor starts acting strangely again besides talk to him and try to redirect him to something else, but he's not so low that he's going to resign them both and everyone else here to going crazy.]

Thanks, Gene.

[He's quiet for a while, watching the flames. As long as Gene doesn't go chasing his hallucinations out into the snow and he doesn't fall into a paranoid diagnostics loop, maybe they can help each other through this unscathed. He trusts Gene to help him and he knows he'll try to keep the medic from doing anything irrational, so maybe it'll be all right.]

How much longer do you think it will be before the Barge comes back to collect us again?

[Gene pulls a face, considering, his frustration with the Admiral flaring up at the reminder that they were here as the result of bad driving or some sick sense of humor.]

Been here three days, maybe two or three more? [Based on his best guess anyway. He's never heard of a port lasting much more than a week.]

At least we got food, and we ain't out in the snow.

[Seeing the specters of dead guys would be worse out there. The cold is a bad enough reminder of Bastogne on its own.]

That matches up with the historical data I've seen about ports. It's not so long to hold it together.

[Connor nods his agreement. He doesn't bother to remind Gene he doesn't need to eat and the cold likely wouldn't be strong enough or have the time to affect him. There's no point, because Gene needs those things, as do most of the rest of the Barge.]

Even if there's something in the hotel causing our problems, it's better we're inside than out.

Guess you'd probably be used to snow even if you weren't a robot, [Gene points out, almost kidding, considering he's from Detroit and all.] Think I've seen about enough of it for a while.

[And that was before they'd been dumped on the literal doorstep to this place with nothing but winter coats and a well stocked kitchen.]

Not gonna complain too much if the next port we go's somewhere warm.

open rp post ➲ picture prompt meme

a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one

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