[ An automated voice speaks because someone hasn't bothered to set up a proper voicemail. The only part in her voice is her name. ] You have reached Agent Texas. Leave a message at the tone.
Some assholes. We're not in the 26th century anymore. Hold on, I'm on my way over.
[ He's on familiar territory which makes this easier. She had already been en-route to the house. With the way the day's gone, she had been half-expecting to be chasing him halfway across the nation, but like hell is she complaining.
Church will have to wait a bit as she speeds through the final few blocks before their house. ]
Yeah, I know that much. This network has more holes in it than Carolina's practice targets.
[Look. It's said to hopefully get Tex to lighten up a little. Even across text she sounds like she's about to put her fist through the wall. How could he know?
Still, until she gets here, he might as well get used to his surroundings. Which he does by stretching that projection as far as he can, flitting around the room like some kind of hyperactive moth, trying to figure out just whose room he's in.]
The time switch? Thought that was the-- [Oh. Hold on. He knows this one. It's that... thing. The... Porter? Yeah, he remembers something about that. Like he remembers snow and ice and another AI. Russian?
But he doesn't know how he remembers that. He knows that wasn't him, at least.] Porter, right?
[He hesitates, at this. He's not supposed to share these files. Hell, he's probably not supposed to have them. Not really. The Director liked keeping everything locked up tight, where only he could find it. Too bad he tended to try and keep Alpha stored up with everything else.]
[It's weird, being able to talk and move around without risking the Director or the Counselor coming in. Being able to talk to the Beta program for longer than a few scattered minutes, in between the tests and routines everyone had him running what felt like every few minutes.
It feels like a weight is being lifted from his shoulders. Even if he feels like he's going to hear the Director's voice yelling for him any second now.]
This isn't combat, you don't have to give ETAs. [He's wandered back to that cobalt blue armor he woke up in, inspecting it a little more thoroughly, now.] Oh, and by the way-- what the hell is going on here?
The point I'm making is it's not like I'm going anywhere.
[Quite frankly, he doesn't trust any of the technology here to fully support him. At least not yet. Otherwise, he'd be zipping around and probably going to her, instead.]
A hulking suit of armor that should be painted some shade of blue. You have it, right?
[ He damn well better. If this fucking place took that from him...
She's about to find out. If he's listening, he'll hear the sound of the front door opening and her slamming it shut before rushing upstairs and towards his location. ]
[Oh. This thing. This weird suit of armor that's both more advanced than what he's used to, but also a step behind Freelancer Agents' suits. It's a... strange in between.]
Yeah, I've got it. But why is it a body? It's just UNSC power armor.
Great color, though.
[But, when Tex comes upstairs, she'll find his little avatar sitting in midair, just staring down the motionless armor as he waits for her.]
[He'd been about to add something to that text, drumming pretend fingers against a pretend leg as he tried to think just why Tex would think he needed to do that.
But then, the lady in question is stomping her way into the room, and he turns the armored head of his avatar in her direction. Somehow he manages to look bewildered, if just in his posturing.]
Because you used to be installed there. [ She motions toward the armored form. The nontransparent one. But he thinks he woke up here? Goddammit. What else has he forgotten?
There's a moment of quiet as she studies his projection. The fact that he's actually doing that and not flipping out says a lot.
What? In that? It should barely be considered mobile!
[Something tugs at him at the drop in Tex's voice, the way she asks him that. He should tell her everything he knows of the Freelancer project, the Mother of Invention, but somehow... he knows that's not what she's asking.
There's a flicker of something, though. Some strange ache in his memory. Something he should remember, but barely does. Almost as if it was a dream, if programs could dream.]
Nothing but some fucked up history. [At least his language has always been colorful. They have the Director in his youth to thank for that.]
[ She stares at him for a while longer before stepping closer to his hologram and removing her helmet (does he even remember the fact that they have bodies beneath the armor?). That tells her nothing because a lot of their history falls under the category of 'fucked up.' ]
You're going to have to be more specific than that. [ There's a brief pause as she looks at his inert armor back to his hologram. ] It's mobile enough.
[As Tex takes off her helmet, that hologram gets to his feet. He's about to start forward, to tell her not to, to somehow get her to stop because he doesn't know what the Director put under that armor, but he knew it wasn't a person. Not... a person like she would remember being. And he doesn't want that for her.
But then, the helmet is off. And he's staring at her-- skin and hair and a face, and he has to pause because that's-- he knows that's not how it was. AI development was still new, still a military secret. The UNSC wouldn't just make bodies for them, their lifespans weren't worth the cost.]
Uh. [He's caught between answering her and demanding to know what the hell he was looking at, teetering one way and then the other until finally, he decides to fall back on facts. On what he knows, rather than the thing he can't explain.] I remember everything I should?
I'm program designation Alpha, implemented to assist Freelancer Agents in ending the war as quickly as possible. Meant to assist the functionality of suit implants in the field. [He hates how clinical that all sounds. But hey, if she's asking.]
You're Agent Texas, top of the leaderboard. The Director's ace in the hole.
[ That's... He's willing calling himself Alpha. Does that mean...?
Just when she thought there weren't any more curveballs that could be thrown at her today. Her helmet is set down on the surface of a dresser. Is it even worth explaining? If everything gets fixed, solved like it always seems to, then he'd at least have a few days of understanding who he was without the damage that's been done.
He deserves at least a few days.
It hurts as she forces herself to maintain her composure, her expression remaining carefully neutral as she regards him. She nods in confirmation. ]
Yeah, I am. People tend to drop most the syllables and call me Tex. [ A beat then, ] You don't know how you got here?
Tex? I didn't think of you as a nickname type. [But despite what he's saying, there's clear amusement in his voice. Just as there's a little more energy, a little less anger and broken edges.]
No goddamn idea. [Oh. Wait.] Unless you're counting the corrupted files I'm dealing with. Lots of half images, weird familiarity with things. Like this.
[He flickers out of existence for a second, only to reappear standing on the discarded armor's head.]
The color means something, I think. But I don't know it. Same with that Porter people keep talking about.
[He might have been picking apart the Network while he was waiting for Tex to show up.]
[ She manages to keep herself from rolling her eyes. 'Tex' isn't far of a leap if she's going to going by codenames anyway. ]
It works better than Beta. [ And less conspicuous. She eyes his hologram as it moves. ]
What corrupted files are those? And if you mean the color of the armor, it doesn't have much purpose besides decoration. The porter is the piece of junk that brought us here.
[There's a mixed moment when Tex says her AI designation. A second where he would be grinning, if he had a mouth to do so. But at the same time, there's a hint of unease. Since he's... not sure if she should really know that. He never was told the full scope of what the Director laid out for her.]
Right. Yeah. Sure. Better than Beta. [At least he still sounds amused.]
And I dunno. Files. Shit about a Florida that doesn't exist. Cities that don't match up. People who aren't in the Freelancer Program. [He's facing Tex fully now, tilting his head to the side as he regards her body again.] What the hell is going on? I mean really going on.
[ He really doesn't know shit about what's going on. Well, he's about to get a crash course. ]
First of all, Florida exists. We're not in Project Freelancer. That stupid porter people talk about? Is some damn magical technology that drags people from everywhere here and they want us to help with their crappy war.
[ There's a pause because she knows how ridiculous this all sounds. Her next statement doesn't make it any less so, but it's important dammit, ]
Magical technology? [He snorts, complete disbelief in his voice.] Sure. And I'm actually a genie from a lamp.
[Look, he may be bound by the Director's orders, and he may just be a super high tech calculator of sorts, but like hell will he ever give up his sense of humor.]
Wait wait wait wait wait. They don't have colonies? That-- hold on. [He holds up a hand, skimming the network, jumping from there into the internet, running a quick search on this place, on the local history and technological accomplishments and--]
[ She rolls her eyes at his scoffing. Whatever, she's not here to make him believe the bullshit they've been forced to since arriving. He'll figure that out soon enough.
Instead she focuses on his reaction to that last bit of news. Good to know they still share that opinion. It had been her first damn thought when she showed up here. ]
Yeah. You should see their military tech. Somehow they can build transporters and hover cars, but that's where their advancements stop.
[If a hologram can perk up, Alpha just did. Maybe his light seems a little more intense, or maybe it's just the way he's standing with his hands on his hips. Either way, he suddenly looks a little more interested in this conversation.]
Sure. [Oh yeah, he sounds interested.] Show me their military tech.
[Oh, wait--] You have open storage in your suit, right?
[ He had her interest, her own expression brightening with excitement, until that last question dampens it completely. ]
Yeah, I do. [ But the thought of him that close to her mentally... She's not sure that would be for the best with their current age discrepancy. ] Is your own body here not usable?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
failureisntachoice) wrote2015-09-11 12:57 pm
text
[ He's on familiar territory which makes this easier. She had already been en-route to the house. With the way the day's gone, she had been half-expecting to be chasing him halfway across the nation, but like hell is she complaining.
Church will have to wait a bit as she speeds through the final few blocks before their house. ]
text
[Look. It's said to hopefully get Tex to lighten up a little. Even across text she sounds like she's about to put her fist through the wall. How could he know?
Still, until she gets here, he might as well get used to his surroundings. Which he does by stretching that projection as far as he can, flitting around the room like some kind of hyperactive moth, trying to figure out just whose room he's in.]
text
[ There's a small delay before this next text comes in: ]
Have any data saved from those practice targets? I never got to see how chewed up she made them look.
text
But he doesn't know how he remembers that. He knows that wasn't him, at least.] Porter, right?
[He hesitates, at this. He's not supposed to share these files. Hell, he's probably not supposed to have them. Not really. The Director liked keeping everything locked up tight, where only he could find it. Too bad he tended to try and keep Alpha stored up with everything else.]
Yeah, sorry. No. Don't have it with me.
text
[ The porter would make the most sense with the other crap it could cause on a regular basis. Something of this scale though...
It's above her technical expertise and pay grade sadly. She has enough fires to put out just helping out with damage control. ]
That's a shame. ETA is two minutes.
text
It feels like a weight is being lifted from his shoulders. Even if he feels like he's going to hear the Director's voice yelling for him any second now.]
This isn't combat, you don't have to give ETAs. [He's wandered back to that cobalt blue armor he woke up in, inspecting it a little more thoroughly, now.] Oh, and by the way-- what the hell is going on here?
text
You still have your body, right?
text
[Quite frankly, he doesn't trust any of the technology here to fully support him. At least not yet. Otherwise, he'd be zipping around and probably going to her, instead.]
... body?
text
[ He damn well better. If this fucking place took that from him...
She's about to find out. If he's listening, he'll hear the sound of the front door opening and her slamming it shut before rushing upstairs and towards his location. ]
text
Yeah, I've got it. But why is it a body? It's just UNSC power armor.
Great color, though.
[But, when Tex comes upstairs, she'll find his little avatar sitting in midair, just staring down the motionless armor as he waits for her.]
text -> action
[ Which he will see first hand as she storms his room, fully armored and staring right at his projection. What the hell is he doing? ]
What happened to you?
text -> action
[He'd been about to add something to that text, drumming pretend fingers against a pretend leg as he tried to think just why Tex would think he needed to do that.
But then, the lady in question is stomping her way into the room, and he turns the armored head of his avatar in her direction. Somehow he manages to look bewildered, if just in his posturing.]
Why are you asking me that?! I just woke up here!
action
There's a moment of quiet as she studies his projection. The fact that he's actually doing that and not flipping out says a lot.
Quietly, ] You don't remember anything?
action
[Something tugs at him at the drop in Tex's voice, the way she asks him that. He should tell her everything he knows of the Freelancer project, the Mother of Invention, but somehow... he knows that's not what she's asking.
There's a flicker of something, though. Some strange ache in his memory. Something he should remember, but barely does. Almost as if it was a dream, if programs could dream.]
Nothing but some fucked up history. [At least his language has always been colorful. They have the Director in his youth to thank for that.]
no subject
You're going to have to be more specific than that. [ There's a brief pause as she looks at his inert armor back to his hologram. ] It's mobile enough.
no subject
But then, the helmet is off. And he's staring at her-- skin and hair and a face, and he has to pause because that's-- he knows that's not how it was. AI development was still new, still a military secret. The UNSC wouldn't just make bodies for them, their lifespans weren't worth the cost.]
Uh. [He's caught between answering her and demanding to know what the hell he was looking at, teetering one way and then the other until finally, he decides to fall back on facts. On what he knows, rather than the thing he can't explain.] I remember everything I should?
I'm program designation Alpha, implemented to assist Freelancer Agents in ending the war as quickly as possible. Meant to assist the functionality of suit implants in the field. [He hates how clinical that all sounds. But hey, if she's asking.]
You're Agent Texas, top of the leaderboard. The Director's ace in the hole.
[The Beta AI. Allison.]
no subject
Just when she thought there weren't any more curveballs that could be thrown at her today. Her helmet is set down on the surface of a dresser. Is it even worth explaining? If everything gets fixed, solved like it always seems to, then he'd at least have a few days of understanding who he was without the damage that's been done.
He deserves at least a few days.
It hurts as she forces herself to maintain her composure, her expression remaining carefully neutral as she regards him. She nods in confirmation. ]
Yeah, I am. People tend to drop most the syllables and call me Tex. [ A beat then, ] You don't know how you got here?
no subject
No goddamn idea. [Oh. Wait.] Unless you're counting the corrupted files I'm dealing with. Lots of half images, weird familiarity with things. Like this.
[He flickers out of existence for a second, only to reappear standing on the discarded armor's head.]
The color means something, I think. But I don't know it. Same with that Porter people keep talking about.
[He might have been picking apart the Network while he was waiting for Tex to show up.]
no subject
It works better than Beta. [ And less conspicuous. She eyes his hologram as it moves. ]
What corrupted files are those? And if you mean the color of the armor, it doesn't have much purpose besides decoration. The porter is the piece of junk that brought us here.
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Right. Yeah. Sure. Better than Beta. [At least he still sounds amused.]
And I dunno. Files. Shit about a Florida that doesn't exist. Cities that don't match up. People who aren't in the Freelancer Program. [He's facing Tex fully now, tilting his head to the side as he regards her body again.] What the hell is going on? I mean really going on.
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First of all, Florida exists. We're not in Project Freelancer. That stupid porter people talk about? Is some damn magical technology that drags people from everywhere here and they want us to help with their crappy war.
[ There's a pause because she knows how ridiculous this all sounds. Her next statement doesn't make it any less so, but it's important dammit, ]
They don't even have colonies. [ HOW ]
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[Look, he may be bound by the Director's orders, and he may just be a super high tech calculator of sorts, but like hell will he ever give up his sense of humor.]
Wait wait wait wait wait. They don't have colonies? That-- hold on. [He holds up a hand, skimming the network, jumping from there into the internet, running a quick search on this place, on the local history and technological accomplishments and--]
Holy shit! They can barely go into space!
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Instead she focuses on his reaction to that last bit of news. Good to know they still share that opinion. It had been her first damn thought when she showed up here. ]
Yeah. You should see their military tech. Somehow they can build transporters and hover cars, but that's where their advancements stop.
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Sure. [Oh yeah, he sounds interested.] Show me their military tech.
[Oh, wait--] You have open storage in your suit, right?
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Yeah, I do. [ But the thought of him that close to her mentally... She's not sure that would be for the best with their current age discrepancy. ] Is your own body here not usable?
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