... Hehe. You say that, but with the current week's effects in play, some people might prefer to keep their distance until all's said and over with.
[ which is why she keeps her gaze decidedly elsewhere, since that tends to at least stall any overshares a little, but. still, she does sort of shuffle her way into the building, considering it's still storming out.
[ what if she just takes up knitting instead, huh. :/ she makes her way over to the yarns and needles without too much issue, waving a hand dismissively. ]
A fair and practical viewpoint, but I'm not sure everyone here might agree. In any case, don't let me bother you.
[ which would be, of course, when the memory decides to be annoyingly obtrusive and contrary. thanks, memshare week.
the scene in front of you is painted like this: there's a girl on the ground in front of you, who'd gotten your attention by screaming and just as quickly being silenced, another with a gun around the corner, and two punks now commenting on how the girl's outer shell is just a little cracked, but she'll still sell fine. the male is holding a baseball bat in his hand as he lifts up the prone girl, so it's no mystery what happened.
these criminals you've been tracking are really quite bold, aren't they? they might be down in an alleyway, menacing two dolls who have resorted to dumpster diving for batteries and spare parts, but still... it's the middle of the day. no one's noticed you and the stray who calls herself your sister as of yet, your vantage point in the shadows remaining hidden, but you don't act just yet because you recognize the doll with the gun, who throws herself out of cover and confronts the two humans.
it's fruitless. the fact that she doesn't act immediately gives her away, and her motions are obviously meant to conserve as much of her limited power as possible, even as the humans start crowing about how another prime catch just delivered itself to them. she bluffs as much as she can, of course, talking with the pride of an elite who's been thrown away, but she's illegal now. no master, no employer, no one to give her the order that would allow her to take these two into custody.
the two of you, you and your would-be sister, reposition in the meantime. not yet. not close enough. almost.
the humans realize the same thing you do, and sneer and pull their own guns- most certainly loaded, unlike the white haired doll's own. you can easily guess what it is that runs through that doll's mind. she can't do anything, but she's trying to find a solution nonetheless. without a direct order, no doll can do anything to harm a human. their own automatic control systems will forcibly terminate any offensive actions even resembling an attempt to disarm, much less anything more decisive. she'd bet on them being scared off if she'd pulled a weapon and threatened them, and now that they've called her bluff she's trapped.
but her pride won't let her stand down even as the situation threatens to escalate, and so you gesture-
the two humans go down, knocked unconscious by you and 9, and you greet the doll. this isn't how you were intending to deal with these two today, really you'd rather have allowed them to go on their way and tailed them back to their hideout to root out the rest, take them all out at once, but, well, with things as they were obviously your hand has been forced. 9 checks on the doll on the ground, and reports that although she's still functional, her surface thoughts can't be picked up, and her body's taken severe damage... using your name. oh well.
the doll you're speaking to recognizes you too, once it's said. you're almost surprised, considering how dismissive she'd been the last and only time you'd ever met. it's not a very productive conversation the two of you have, between her demanding to know what you're doing here, hurling verbal abuse and threatening to break your necks in order to get answers as if the concept of being civil doesn't even exist in her mind. your responses are mild, the topic moves along towards the subject of that mission, and if it wasn't clear before then you're now certain this conversation will go nowhere.
she demands to know what happened on the mission. it failed, you respond. everyone died. it's that simple.
she demands to know what happened to m16, the one who'd kicked her off the squad before the mission even began in order to protect you, and you don't laugh. you respond that m16 was most likely recovered by some research group, and that maybe it's for the best that she got kicked off, hm? after all, it means she's alive enough to have the chance to do things like bristle pointlessly at you now.
(unlike your sister, unlike everyone else who went, because none of them were supposed to come out alive. because someone had sabotaged it from the start for unknown reasons, and cleaned up any loose ends that would point back to them, and now you're the only one left to even begin searching for answers, for those responsible for so many unjust deaths.)
but of course she's stuck on this one thing. by the way she goes on about her slighted pride, you're sure it's the only thing that's kept her going through having to scavenge and scrounge for scraps to keep herself alive. it'd almost be admirable if it weren't such a flagrant example of self-delusion. she's not like you, she insists, as if what you all are, illegal dolls with neither employers nor masters through no fault of their own, is something dirty and shameful. she's better than you. her current state is only temporary. she'll find a way to return to the company that cast her out, stripped her of her fire control core and any network permissions she had... somehow. by sheer willpower, self-righteous indignation, and nothing else apparently, by the way she's talking. the fact that she managed to keep her gun is interesting enough, but as she is right now, it's a useless lump of metal.
... really, it's irritating. she keeps talking, but it's only ever about what she wants things to be like. how things should be. and yet...
"whether you were originally designed as a tactical doll or a toaster," you cut in, "it's plain to see that you're not being very successful as either of them. fortunately for you, i happen to have connections that can help you acquire a fire control core and ammunition... but not for free, of course. if you're willing to work with me for a bit, i'll help you get what you want in exchange, how's that sound?"
416 glares balefully at you. "... are you kidding me? i'd never make such a deal with you!"
not unexpected, so obviously you have to try harder. "and what about that doll on the ground? didn't you want to save her just now? i can add another condition and make her repair part of the terms of our deal."
"and if i said no? would you just leave her to die?"
"of course." of course not, but she doesn't need to know that.
"you bitch! i've always hated you, but i've never hated you more than this very moment! what gave a selfish, useless doll like you the right to stay in the team when i wasn't? what gives you the right to decide someone else's life or death right now?!"
ah, there's that word again. useless.
"well, i have to say, you still don't seem to understand your situation." you keep smiling, even as your tone grows edged. "i've stayed polite all this while i've been talking to you, but that doesn't mean i'm not angry." with one hand, you gesture at the doll your sister is still tending to. "did you save her just now? all you did was wish that you could do it. if i hadn't done anything just now, the two of you would be the catch of the early morning doll black market.
"you're just looking at everything that happens in this world in a self-absorbed way, still lost in your childish thoughts about how other people have personally wronged you. you have no idea what went into saving you, and you have no idea about what actually happened back then. all you know is to whine about this and whine about that, as if that will actually accomplish something," you say, unslinging your gun and shouldering it, pointing it directly between her eyes. "if that's all you're capable of, perhaps someone like you really ought to disappear after all?"
9 glances up, sounding surprised. "huh? wait, 45, are you really going to shoot? didn't you say earlier that you wanted to save as many dolls as you could..."
......... "shut up, 9." even if that's true, you're trying to make a point here.
"okie..."
but the doll in front of you doesn't respond in any way other than continuing to glare silently at you, and after a long moment, you wonder if she isn't just a lost cause. you've made your offer, thrown her a rope. if she chooses not to take it that's up to her.
"... i'll let you off today," you say, and lower your gun. "you can leave with that doll on the ground over there. it was never my business to begin with, after all."
she immediately takes the chance to sprint over to the doll on the ground, checking over the visible injuries before you turn away and start to leave, 9 following nervously behind you. just before you do leave the area entirely, however:
"ump45! why have you lived on like this?! why are you running from your past, from your former friends, and scraping out a miserable existence in this illegal gray area?! if my thoughts are childish, then do you really think that what you're doing is considered mature?!"
... you stop. really, is that what she thinks you're doing? she thinks that you're running? that this was a choice? "i didn't choose to run away, and i didn't choose to live a miserable life."
"then what are you doing now?" she challenges.
what are you doing now? "i'm going to find the culprit who killed everyone and killed my sister," you say. "i've taken steps to recover weapons that i can use to fight, obtain better modules, and even find a friend i'm willing to work with. i haven't been getting by the way you have, with just a mouth that only knows how to spout nonsense! what exactly have you been doing? searching for batteries every day to keep yourself topped off like a cheap cell phone?"
the doll balks, but retorts, "that... i can do that too!"
then why hasn't she? "do you have a credit account?" you challenge. "can you find someone to maintain your body for you? can you alter your baseline access authorization to protect yourself? can you find weapons and ammo to keep fighting? have you done anything to further that lofty goal of yours? what can you do? you can't do anything!"
"there'll be a way..." she denies hotly, shaking her head. "i'll find a way out of this!"
"you're just lying to yourself," you snap. 416 is nothing but futile, bristling, indignant and self-righteous anger with nothing to show for it, but she isn't wrong when she says she's innately more powerful, more capable than you, so the fact that she hasn't done anything to hone it when you've had to struggle your way to everything you have-- "you talk about wanting to go back and find her, but you can't even protect that illegal doll by your side! what can you accomplish just by wanting something?"
if wanting were all it took, your sister would be alive. ]
[ you went and made this all fancy but i'm just going to be lazy so here. i love you mauyn, xoxo.
that said.
somehow it's always stunning, to be reminded of much it hurts to lose someone. the anger that runs through this memory resonates well with that he felt at being taken from the mission to save his former masters - because for all he'd known, they could have been killed, the timeline ruined, and everything he cared for destroyed. but of course, the futility of a situation never changes how much you want to save the ones you've loved and lost.
kara doesn't say anything yet, simply setting down the pen he'd been using with a soft sigh. ]
[ i actually copy pasted this. i have a template. i suffer because some memories i only have text transcripts for and no video links, so look. several of these, i have written up just for the sake of this event.
anyway.
for her part, she's still in her corner of the room, auxiliary and unnecessary functions such as the ones that normally keep her simulating humanity knocked temporarily offline as she processes.
ah, so it's like that, is it? it is one thing to hear about how the village apparently had to kill everyone to bring them back. another to be, if briefly, one of the combatants responsible for ensuring that it came to be, it seems.
those created to be tools are similar, it seems, in regarding emotions as disposable at best, and hindrances at worst. regardless of whatever familiarity there might or might not have been before this, when they are given their missions and orders it comes down to this: there is an enemy in front of you, and it must be dealt with.
(is that what dying feels like? perhaps she already has, given-)
she stirs back to life, settles, and deliberately begins to knit. ]
[ to be honest, he is grateful that there isn't a sudden flood of questions, asking for details, for clarification, for why ookurikara did what he did. it's a reprieve he hasn't realized he needed.
he slips the note into the drop box. ]
...You were made to be a weapon, too. Is that right?
[ he could only understand so much about this "doll" thing, in her memory. but they can both relate to this part, at least. ]
[ the past matters, she won't say that it doesn't, but only as much as anyone wants to let it on any given day. some let it drown them, drag them down. some use it as a lifeline.
sometimes it just is. far be it for her to wonder, even if she is curious. ]
I was. I suppose you swords would be the most likely to understand, in a way, even if the methods of our creation differ.
I think the best way I can put it is ... you are the spirits of your weapons themselves, correct? You came into being when they did, or gained cognizance over time, somehow.
[ she doesn't strictly know what a tsukumogami is beyond the abstracts, but her language modules ping some definitions here and there. not many; japan was a nation that hadn't fared well in the collapse, and after global communications had taken the blow they had, updates from that far away...
in any case. ]
I was created first, and then gained my weapon Imprint after. Not long after, considering it'd been my purpose from the moment I was made, but I did come first.
A squad shrouded in mystery. ▓▓▓▓▒ has met them once, and others can only guess at the members' identities from rumors. Members of the squad all have advanced AI and high capacity for independent operation. Rumor has it that Squad 404 usually deals with ░▓▒▓▓▓▒▓▓▒▒▒░░
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no subject
Date: 2020-07-05 10:54 pm (UTC)[ he'll just. shuffle out of the way a bit. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-05 11:58 pm (UTC)[ which is why she keeps her gaze decidedly elsewhere, since that tends to at least stall any overshares a little, but. still, she does sort of shuffle her way into the building, considering it's still storming out.
i still haven't decided where they are, help ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-06 02:13 am (UTC)If we let that stop us, we'd never get anything done. I'll be out of your way in a minute.
[ he's just writing something right this second, don't mind him. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-06 02:50 am (UTC)A fair and practical viewpoint, but I'm not sure everyone here might agree. In any case, don't let me bother you.
[ which would be, of course, when the memory decides to be annoyingly obtrusive and contrary. thanks, memshare week.
these criminals you've been tracking are really quite bold, aren't they? they might be down in an alleyway, menacing two dolls who have resorted to dumpster diving for batteries and spare parts, but still... it's the middle of the day. no one's noticed you and the stray who calls herself your sister as of yet, your vantage point in the shadows remaining hidden, but you don't act just yet because you recognize the doll with the gun, who throws herself out of cover and confronts the two humans.
it's fruitless. the fact that she doesn't act immediately gives her away, and her motions are obviously meant to conserve as much of her limited power as possible, even as the humans start crowing about how another prime catch just delivered itself to them. she bluffs as much as she can, of course, talking with the pride of an elite who's been thrown away, but she's illegal now. no master, no employer, no one to give her the order that would allow her to take these two into custody.
the two of you, you and your would-be sister, reposition in the meantime. not yet. not close enough. almost.
the humans realize the same thing you do, and sneer and pull their own guns- most certainly loaded, unlike the white haired doll's own. you can easily guess what it is that runs through that doll's mind. she can't do anything, but she's trying to find a solution nonetheless. without a direct order, no doll can do anything to harm a human. their own automatic control systems will forcibly terminate any offensive actions even resembling an attempt to disarm, much less anything more decisive. she'd bet on them being scared off if she'd pulled a weapon and threatened them, and now that they've called her bluff she's trapped.
but her pride won't let her stand down even as the situation threatens to escalate, and so you gesture-
the two humans go down, knocked unconscious by you and 9, and you greet the doll. this isn't how you were intending to deal with these two today, really you'd rather have allowed them to go on their way and tailed them back to their hideout to root out the rest, take them all out at once, but, well, with things as they were obviously your hand has been forced. 9 checks on the doll on the ground, and reports that although she's still functional, her surface thoughts can't be picked up, and her body's taken severe damage... using your name. oh well.
the doll you're speaking to recognizes you too, once it's said. you're almost surprised, considering how dismissive she'd been the last and only time you'd ever met. it's not a very productive conversation the two of you have, between her demanding to know what you're doing here, hurling verbal abuse and threatening to break your necks in order to get answers as if the concept of being civil doesn't even exist in her mind. your responses are mild, the topic moves along towards the subject of that mission, and if it wasn't clear before then you're now certain this conversation will go nowhere.
she demands to know what happened on the mission. it failed, you respond. everyone died. it's that simple.
she demands to know what happened to m16, the one who'd kicked her off the squad before the mission even began in order to protect you, and you don't laugh. you respond that m16 was most likely recovered by some research group, and that maybe it's for the best that she got kicked off, hm? after all, it means she's alive enough to have the chance to do things like bristle pointlessly at you now.
(unlike your sister, unlike everyone else who went, because none of them were supposed to come out alive. because someone had sabotaged it from the start for unknown reasons, and cleaned up any loose ends that would point back to them, and now you're the only one left to even begin searching for answers, for those responsible for so many unjust deaths.)
but of course she's stuck on this one thing. by the way she goes on about her slighted pride, you're sure it's the only thing that's kept her going through having to scavenge and scrounge for scraps to keep herself alive. it'd almost be admirable if it weren't such a flagrant example of self-delusion. she's not like you, she insists, as if what you all are, illegal dolls with neither employers nor masters through no fault of their own, is something dirty and shameful. she's better than you. her current state is only temporary. she'll find a way to return to the company that cast her out, stripped her of her fire control core and any network permissions she had... somehow. by sheer willpower, self-righteous indignation, and nothing else apparently, by the way she's talking. the fact that she managed to keep her gun is interesting enough, but as she is right now, it's a useless lump of metal.
... really, it's irritating. she keeps talking, but it's only ever about what she wants things to be like. how things should be. and yet...
"whether you were originally designed as a tactical doll or a toaster," you cut in, "it's plain to see that you're not being very successful as either of them. fortunately for you, i happen to have connections that can help you acquire a fire control core and ammunition... but not for free, of course. if you're willing to work with me for a bit, i'll help you get what you want in exchange, how's that sound?"
416 glares balefully at you. "... are you kidding me? i'd never make such a deal with you!"
not unexpected, so obviously you have to try harder. "and what about that doll on the ground? didn't you want to save her just now? i can add another condition and make her repair part of the terms of our deal."
"and if i said no? would you just leave her to die?"
"of course." of course not, but she doesn't need to know that.
"you bitch! i've always hated you, but i've never hated you more than this very moment! what gave a selfish, useless doll like you the right to stay in the team when i wasn't? what gives you the right to decide someone else's life or death right now?!"
ah, there's that word again. useless.
"well, i have to say, you still don't seem to understand your situation." you keep smiling, even as your tone grows edged. "i've stayed polite all this while i've been talking to you, but that doesn't mean i'm not angry." with one hand, you gesture at the doll your sister is still tending to. "did you save her just now? all you did was wish that you could do it. if i hadn't done anything just now, the two of you would be the catch of the early morning doll black market.
"you're just looking at everything that happens in this world in a self-absorbed way, still lost in your childish thoughts about how other people have personally wronged you. you have no idea what went into saving you, and you have no idea about what actually happened back then. all you know is to whine about this and whine about that, as if that will actually accomplish something," you say, unslinging your gun and shouldering it, pointing it directly between her eyes. "if that's all you're capable of, perhaps someone like you really ought to disappear after all?"
9 glances up, sounding surprised. "huh? wait, 45, are you really going to shoot? didn't you say earlier that you wanted to save as many dolls as you could..."
......... "shut up, 9." even if that's true, you're trying to make a point here.
"okie..."
but the doll in front of you doesn't respond in any way other than continuing to glare silently at you, and after a long moment, you wonder if she isn't just a lost cause. you've made your offer, thrown her a rope. if she chooses not to take it that's up to her.
"... i'll let you off today," you say, and lower your gun. "you can leave with that doll on the ground over there. it was never my business to begin with, after all."
she immediately takes the chance to sprint over to the doll on the ground, checking over the visible injuries before you turn away and start to leave, 9 following nervously behind you. just before you do leave the area entirely, however:
"ump45! why have you lived on like this?! why are you running from your past, from your former friends, and scraping out a miserable existence in this illegal gray area?! if my thoughts are childish, then do you really think that what you're doing is considered mature?!"
... you stop. really, is that what she thinks you're doing? she thinks that you're running? that this was a choice? "i didn't choose to run away, and i didn't choose to live a miserable life."
"then what are you doing now?" she challenges.
what are you doing now? "i'm going to find the culprit who killed everyone and killed my sister," you say. "i've taken steps to recover weapons that i can use to fight, obtain better modules, and even find a friend i'm willing to work with. i haven't been getting by the way you have, with just a mouth that only knows how to spout nonsense! what exactly have you been doing? searching for batteries every day to keep yourself topped off like a cheap cell phone?"
the doll balks, but retorts, "that... i can do that too!"
then why hasn't she? "do you have a credit account?" you challenge. "can you find someone to maintain your body for you? can you alter your baseline access authorization to protect yourself? can you find weapons and ammo to keep fighting? have you done anything to further that lofty goal of yours? what can you do? you can't do anything!"
"there'll be a way..." she denies hotly, shaking her head. "i'll find a way out of this!"
"you're just lying to yourself," you snap. 416 is nothing but futile, bristling, indignant and self-righteous anger with nothing to show for it, but she isn't wrong when she says she's innately more powerful, more capable than you, so the fact that she hasn't done anything to hone it when you've had to struggle your way to everything you have-- "you talk about wanting to go back and find her, but you can't even protect that illegal doll by your side! what can you accomplish just by wanting something?"
if wanting were all it took, your sister would be alive. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-06 03:51 am (UTC)that said.
somehow it's always stunning, to be reminded of much it hurts to lose someone. the anger that runs through this memory resonates well with that he felt at being taken from the mission to save his former masters - because for all he'd known, they could have been killed, the timeline ruined, and everything he cared for destroyed. but of course, the futility of a situation never changes how much you want to save the ones you've loved and lost.
kara doesn't say anything yet, simply setting down the pen he'd been using with a soft sigh. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-06 04:50 am (UTC)anyway.
for her part, she's still in her corner of the room, auxiliary and unnecessary functions such as the ones that normally keep her simulating humanity knocked temporarily offline as she processes.
ah, so it's like that, is it? it is one thing to hear about how the village apparently had to kill everyone to bring them back. another to be, if briefly, one of the combatants responsible for ensuring that it came to be, it seems.
those created to be tools are similar, it seems, in regarding emotions as disposable at best, and hindrances at worst. regardless of whatever familiarity there might or might not have been before this, when they are given their missions and orders it comes down to this: there is an enemy in front of you, and it must be dealt with.
(is that what dying feels like? perhaps she already has, given-)
she stirs back to life, settles, and deliberately begins to knit. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-10 05:20 pm (UTC)he slips the note into the drop box. ]
...You were made to be a weapon, too. Is that right?
[ he could only understand so much about this "doll" thing, in her memory. but they can both relate to this part, at least. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-07-11 03:07 am (UTC)sometimes it just is. far be it for her to wonder, even if she is curious. ]
I was. I suppose you swords would be the most likely to understand, in a way, even if the methods of our creation differ.
no subject
Date: 2020-07-11 04:01 am (UTC)...Though I'm not sure I understand the difference.
no subject
Date: 2020-07-12 06:26 am (UTC)[ she doesn't strictly know what a tsukumogami is beyond the abstracts, but her language modules ping some definitions here and there. not many; japan was a nation that hadn't fared well in the collapse, and after global communications had taken the blow they had, updates from that far away...
in any case. ]
I was created first, and then gained my weapon Imprint after. Not long after, considering it'd been my purpose from the moment I was made, but I did come first.