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Curiouscalculations-archive - //: LOADING PROFILE: DATA... - Tumblr Blog
private channel : DATA & THEON
Theon: Don't be stupid, DATA.
Theon: You're not- you're not expendable. You're not just a machine.
Theon: I'm sorry. I'm sorry, god, please. Just come back to me. I'm sorry about what I said.
DATA: Not- [GUNFIRE] No need [STATIC] apologize... Eli...[STATIC]
DATA: --Build a new [STATIC] ...loss of...
radio call: open frequency
DATA:DATA present and uninjured.
Kallia: Marro-- doesn't nee-- more disappointing news, DATA.
DATA: --o need to be unkind, Kallia.
radio call: open frequency
Raven: No [WET COUGHING, WHEEZING] casual[FEEDBACK]. Fu[MORE COUGHING, MORE WHEEZING] you, Ka[FEEDBACK].
Marrow: I said, state your name and condition, before you-
Marrow: [ABRUPT PAUSE]-say again, Kallia? Do you have confirmed casualties? If so then this is a priority report, I repeat, I want to know exact-
[RAVEN INTERRUPTS]
Marrow: Fuck's sake, I'm getting mixed fuckin' messages here, this is not the time for this shit- do NOT report a fucking casualty- [STATIC]-less AFFIRMED, DO YOU READ?
Marrow: NOW STATE YOUR FUCKIN' NAMES. STATE YOUR CONDITION. THAT'S A DIRECT ORDER. OVER.
Kallia: Loo-- at Raven, the next Jesus Christ.
Kallia: Keep you-- voice down, we're gettin-- headache over here.
DATA:DATA present and uninjured.
private channel : DATA & THEON
Theon: What do you mean, turning off the pain sensors? Are you in pain?
Theon: DATA, I can't shut them off from here. The signal is too weak.
Theon: I-... [voice low] ... Please tell me you're okay.
DATA: -ot in pain... [STATIC]... to aid Gus [STATIC]
DATA: [GUNFIRE] ...need it more. I could take off the armor... [STATIC]
DATA: ...Turn it off- [STATIC]... Kalia and I... [Voice fades out] machines... expendable [STATIC]
private channel : DATA & THEON
Theon: DATA?
Theon: For fuck's sake, DATA.
[STATIC]...
Theon: DATA please, can you hear me?! Just answer me!
[STATIC]...
DATA: -eon? [STATIC] ...hear me?
DATA: [STATIC] too much blood... [GUNFIRE] attempting... [STATIC] his vitals are slowing [STATIC]
DATA: ...turn off the pain sensors [STATIC]... more efficient in aid- [STATIC]Please shut... off... [GUNFIRE]
Team 1, RIP
Thane: Emotional liabilities are very much relevant to the mission.
Thane: Over.
DATA: Humans distracted by emotional turmoil are more susceptible to illogical mistakes. Perhaps Gus can help you sort through such feelings. Over.
Pyre: My emotions are not...
Pyre: I said out, that means stop talking to me.
Pyre: Over.
Pyre: Out.
DATA: Gus, are you familiar with the five stages of grief? I believe Pyre may be experiencing the first labeled denial and may require emotional assistance. Over.
Team 1, RIP
Kallia: Whilst the two of you are busy "negotiating", I'll be sure to clear up the mess of your dead bodies.
Kallia: Hold up. You and Mouse? She's out of both of your leagues, Dumb and Dumber.
Thane: Yeah, Pyre, how's your mood? Inquiring minds want to know.
Pyre: This is not...
Pyre: This...
Pyre: This is not pertinent nor related to the mission. Over and out.
Thane: Emotional liabilities are very much relevant to the mission.
Thane: Over.
DATA: Humans distracted by emotional turmoil are more susceptible to illogical mistakes. Perhaps Gus can help you sort through such feelings. Over.
Team 1, RIP
Augustus: Not that I'm supporting anyone being used as a human shield, but isn't he made of metal?
Augustus: Much better shield material. Over.
DATA: Perhaps we should attempt to negotiate with them instead of initially engaging in violence. Over.
Pyre: Violence will only be used if necessary, and we will use no member of the crew as a shield.
Pyre: Marrow said we need to keep the comms to only pertinent, mission-related information. Over.
DATA: Thank you, Pyre.
DATA: Has your mood improved from the melancholy you were previously engaged in over Eretria? Over.
Team 1, RIP
Thane: Y'know, Doc, you'd make a great human shield.
Thane: Over and out.
Nyena: Fair point. Over.
Kallia: Theon's lap dog would make a better shield.
Augustus: Not that I'm supporting anyone being used as a human shield, but isn't he made of metal?
Augustus: Much better shield material. Over.
DATA: Perhaps we should attempt to negotiate with them instead of initially engaging in violence. Over.
Team 1, RIP
Raven: So, any idea on what we're actually trying to be, uh, assaulting?
Raven: ...over.
Pyre: I believe it was left vague and at our own discretion. Over.
Augustus: So you're saying we have no idea what our actual goal here is?
Augustus: Uh, over.
DATA: According to the message, the goal of the mission is to infiltrate the western wing of facility. Over.
theonwyndham:
location : ororidge, camp settlement date : august 25th with : @curiouscalculations
Trust me all the way Trust me so I don’t have all this doubt I just want to be I just want to let my demons out
The stars above them still shone faintly as the night came upon them, bringing a cold wind with it. Here in the strange world, time seemed to be slower. The night arrived, but the sun stayed. Time stopped, coloring the sky with strands of dusk. In all its brutality, Ororidge was still more generous than all the places he’d been too. After setting their place, Alyx and him, Theon could not help but taking a moment to admire the view. It was actually a nice change from Wrotham and the ship. Seeing a world practically untouched by human hands. How out of place he was, the boy obsessed with technology and robots. The camp was settling with a certain kind of domesticity behind him. Voices low, conversations were kept to a minimum. It had not been a full day, and too many conflicts had already erupted. They felt all small, in his opinion, under the immensity of the clear sky. Unimportant.
A quick look behind him told him easily that his presence was not required anywhere. Alyx was already engulfed in one of her encyclopedia, and Theon couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. He wished he could erase the memory of her from a few days ago, shaken to the core, so distinguishably not her. A small word and a nod from her part was all it took him to leave the camp. They settled near a small hill, in the hope it might cover them from the unforgiving wind. Theon slipped out of the captain’s gaze, used to be unnoticed. To be alone. Too many times did he wander through the corridors of the Concord, not a glance spared his way. He remembered how it never happened on his previous job. People always whispering, always judging. If it happened now, most did not bother to keep it to themselves. They mostly did not care about him. Theon mostly did not care about them also.
An eye for an eye.
The engineer did not spent too much time outside camp, though. The sunset did help calm him mind from the anxiety of being in close quarters with too much dangerous people in a potentially dangerous location. Perhaps, if he dared trust Ororidge, the feeling of dread eating at his guts would soon leave him. After what could have been half an hour, Theon made plans to go back to the camp. Turning on heels, his heart barely quit as he fell face to face with Data. “Fuck!” The swear, unfamiliar on his tongue, jumped out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, calming himself. “What are you doing here?”
Unfamiliar constellations lay scattered across the sky, twinkling in the twilight as the sun slowly gave way to the inevitable persuasion of the night. Soon the brilliant hues kissing the sky with the forlorn hesitation of a tentative lover would fade, the temperature touting an unbearable heat under the watchful gaze of the burning sun would give way to the chilled night, and the bustling sound of the busy desert would dissolve into an eerie silence interrupted only by the soft breath of sleep. DATA would watch it all, as he always had - the vigilance of his robotic design allowing him the ability to remain alert when the rest of the crew required rest.
However, before he could succumb to the mundane routine of a likely uneventful night on the strange, new planet, DATA knew he had to acquire Theon’s attention. For hours, the crew had marched across the desert; and in that time, the frustration of a broken joint had grown to full blown irritation. Unable to be of use in carrying the heavy weight of his assigned pack, DATA had been forced to accept the aid of his fellow crew members to continue on their trek; his knee threatening to give out once again at any attempt of obtaining his previous pack.
It did not surprise him to find Theon on his own, staring over the vast expanse of the desert in the pensive melancholy way that signaled deeper thought. He loathed to interrupt the introspection humans so often required, but initial orders of alerting his creator to any damages would not allow for any hesitation.
A curse, one exclaimed out of surprise, was foreign on Theon’s lips as DATA came face to face with him. The flash of sympathy that shot through his frame was quickly overcome by the reluctant anger that still lingered in the aftermath of their argument. “I require your assistance.” The grudging tone that invaded his words advertised the obvious disinclination that still permeated any feelings toward his creator. “The juncture in my right leg has become misaligned and requires repair.”
kalliawexler:
marching on, and on, and on.
There’s purpose to her gait, spine straight and shoulders pushed back. She does not match the exhaustion painted across the features of her crew; perspiration seeping from every pore and silhouettes stretching outwards across the dunes. Though they rub at their temples, tangle their fingertips within the knots of their hair, there is a substantial potential laced between each individual.
They are willing, they are ready, they are a team.
To work as the latter was an unfamiliar notion; as a newborn’s first breath, it came with comfort, it came with caution. She is overzealous at every corner, doubts their abilities, but she does not kneel before the inaugural sign of strain. If she must survive alongside those of all purposes, then may she do so with an oath for success.
There’s a question which departs from the another’s lips; it’s unforeseen at first, not many seek the assassin above those with a radiating warmth. She croons her neck to the side, there’s a flash of wariness in the depth of dark eyes, quick like the spark of a match, before it deflates and she sinks back into her ordinary state. Though this an instinct notched within the pillars of a survivor’s spine, she reminds herself of her company.
This is DATA; android of kindness, of kinship, of something so human. Their insides may be symmetrical at every corner, sculpted from durability and vigour, but the world has not crushed him into something harsh and tumultuous.
“No.” There’s enough of a pause to wonder whether the conversation had ended. “I’ve never ventured outside of Wrotham.”
Too busy staying alive.
“I managed to swipe this before we left,” she pulls a crumpled display of directions from her back pocket. It’s littered with fine print, colour-coded directions and still most are unaware of its existence. “Y’know, just in case they’ve got their own marketplace here.”
Discounted goods, she hoped.
“What about you, does your owner let his pet go outside occasionally?”
A quick nod pulled the bottom of his chin toward the vulnerable flesh of his neck, an obvious action affirming his understanding of their already ending conversation. Such a simple answer, absent of further explanation evident in the awkward silence filling the humid air between the pair, was impossible to be misinterpreted even when paired with the frequent ignorance DATA retained in regards to social etiquette. Fingertips danced across the warm flesh of his palm in a learned expression of discomfort, fidgeting with a frightening likeness to the humans that surrounded him. Yes, he certainly should have selected the weather as a topic of conversation.
The map was offered as an olive branch, a way of scavenging DATA’s feeble attempts at conversation. Staring down at the colors coding various words highlighting landmarks and roads alike, DATA felt the feeling of confusion overtake his features. “Why would you wish to venture to their market place?” Amber eyes were weary as they studied – memorized – the map displayed before him.
A scowl overtook his features, lips crushed together in a downturned curve of anger. “I’m not his pet,” he spat back at her, the bitterness of his words hidden beneath the cool cadence of offense. “I can go wherever I wish.” The proclamation of independence, ill advised with the retrospection of a rational mind, were words of impulse. DATA knew he would be unable to disobey a direct order from his creator; but in the absence of conversation under the hurt still felt by both parties, DATA was free from the restricted regulations that often accompanied Theon’s concern.
pyrecoren:
date: august 25th, afternoon location: somewhere in the desert status: open to all
As the hours passed, the walk only seemed to get longer. It seemed that for Pyre, everything was going wrong. Glancing around at the crew, trudging beside him, he knew that it would be impossibly for him to hate any one of them. But now, it was hard to feel that when every conversation was leaving him feeling more terrible than the last. For now, it would be best to just let them all be. To complete his mission, as should have always been his first (and only) priority.
But then, he glanced to his left. A few yards ahead, one of the crew had fallen, and seemed to be struggling with getting their bag back together. No one else around them seemed to notice, and Pyre sighed, quickening his pace to meet them.
“Hey,” he approached them, leaning down to grab some of the items that had fallen into the sand. This was a part of his job, he told himself. He couldn’t let someone fall behind. It didn’t matter who they were; taking care of the crew was what he had signed up to do. There didn’t have to be any emotions about it. “Let me help you with that.”
Slumped shoulders and sweat-soaked brows littered the mismatched crowd slowly moving across the unforgivable desert, marching to a broken beat of an unbalanced war drum. Despite the early hour of their mission, DATA could see the weariness of the heavy heat slowly seeping beneath the thin cotton sheltering the sensitive skin of the organics and hybrid crewmembers. They would likely leave this planet with souvenirs of stinging sunburns and mischievous sand, somehow finding its way into any vulnerable crevice. DATA, however, would find little familiarity in their grievances.
Escaping the suffering heat by nature alone, DATA was content to walk beside his fellow friends and bear the heaviest of packs. His steel frame, unlike humans, did not bend beneath the combined stress of the desert sun and abundant supplies. Or so he thought. His knee, a mechanical joint only just repaired weeks earlier in a routine inspection by his creator, suddenly gave in to the persuasion of gravity, buckling beneath the heavy weight he dared to hold.
Confusion invaded his gaze as he stared down at the crooked limb and alerts of the limb’s defection filed his vision. Bracing his own hands against the coarse grains encasing the landscape, DATA prepared to push himself back to his feet by determination alone. The sudden emergence of friendly cadence relieved any insecurity surrounding the uncooperative joint still stubbornly sitting in the sand despite his initial efforts.
“Thank you, Pyre.” Granting him a polite smile, customary to those who had obtained some achievement of friendship, DATA allowed him to assist him without argument. Without the obtrusive weight on his back, DATA was able to manipulate his weight to rest on the functioning leg as he straightened back up to a standing position. Once secure on the still shaky limb he would have to ask Theon to look at, a reluctant action that would only happen in the aftermath of a hesitant apology; DATA held out his hand to once again take the pack he had been assigned to carry.
idk how to flirt imma just stare at you until u marry me
Date: August 25th 2178, 14:00 Location: somewhere in the desert Status: @kalliawexler
The walk across the scorching sand did little to clear the buzzing thoughts thrumming through his busy mind. He had learned, through the careful study of words crafted into novels by writers from all periods of the past, that close proximity to nature seemed to provide humans with a reprieve from the stress they so easily enveloped into their daily lives. The endless hills of desolation did not provide him with any absolution; instead, the setting only amplified the restlessness itching beneath his stitched skin. Brown irises, unencumbered by the sun’s assault, searched the small group for a suitable distraction. Although it would be easy to simply fall into a trance of simulations and calculations, lost in information as endless as the desert before them, DATA found himself craving the careful closeness that only contact with likened company could provide.
His gaze finally settled on the familiar sight of olive skin and ebony hair, both features as artificial as his own. The woman, despite the close proximity they achieved on their journey so far, remained an enigma. Although both held the inevitable commonality of a shared synthetic nature, nurture had allowed them to become inexplicitly different. Where she was harsh, crafted with a dull knife to create jagged lines, unrelenting in the stinging sharpness she embodied in her own independence; DATA was soft, malleable in the manufactured morals he held under the authority of a creator. She was different, and the contrast that juxtaposed their broken kinship fascinated him.
DATA approached her with an awkward grace intrinsic to his being, stumbling over the fragmented pieces of possible comments suitable to initiate a conversation with the woman still stubbornly stamped as a stranger in his flexible classification of the Concord’s crew members. “Have you ever visited the Free States before?” DATA winced at the banal inquiry he had selected as a topic of conversation, perhaps he should have commented on the weather.
Mirroring situations like you're an imitation Do I watch and repeat? And as if I tried to, I turned out just like you Do we watch and repeat?
theonwyndham:
LOCATION : SSV Concord, cargo bay DATE AND TIME : August 16th, 2178 - 09:45PM STATUS : closed, w/ @curiouscalculations
“My readings suggest that you are unwell, THEON. Do you wish for me to call for DATA?”
The ceramic was smooth and cool, a small respite and comfort for his burning skin. His trembling hands gripped the side of the toilet seat and pushed a bit, so he could sit on the hard floor. It had been four days since the interview, and in those four days, DATA had refused to talk to him each time they met. It was understandable, after what Theon said. Though he did want a chance to explain himself. To ask for forgiveness.
Even though at this point, Theon wasn’t sure he deserved it.
“No.” His voice had been rough, the inside of his mouth tasting like a mixture of bile and iron. A recurrent taste lately, a vestige of violent anxiety attacks and sleepless nights. It still haunted him, his own interview. How the Benefactor’s personal questions had been so spot on, not even for Theon, but for all the other crew members. Theon still had yet to return to the ship. He didn’t see the need to go as DATA refused any forms of communication with him. Treia had also not answered his messages and Theon hoped that she was at least with DATA. Both of them, united against him, it was better than both of them alone. They didn’t deserve this pain. They didn’t deserve Theon’s mistake and wrong doings. “I’m good.” LOLA’s impersonal comments were all he had right now and it made his skin crawled.
Hadn’t he reply that he always felt alone? Well, at least no one could dispute this statement. Perhaps, he thought as his eyes went down to his arms, where his subconscious left small, blood red moon croissants, he was a creature that needed to remain alone. It felt like punishment. The same three words would probably drive him mad soon enough: You deserve it, you deserve it, you deserve it.
Theon forced himself to go back on the ship a few hours later, made sure to bring LOLA with him, and imported her in his IBA. At least, if he had to be completely Alone and cut from any interactions with DATA, he’d have another AI to count on. Most people ignored him when he embarked, sparing him only a fleeting gaze before returning to their own, monotonous tasks. His heart was set on finding the one person that probably hated him the most at the moment. His journey felt as familiar as those penitents in the Old Days, practicing self-flagellation to remind themselves of their continuous sinful existence.
Most of the ship was silent, and Theon couldn’t find DATA in his usual spots. Did he already knew about his presence aboard? Irritation grew in him, fingers twitching on his side. Theon finally spotted him, in the galley. Their eyes met then, and Theon couldn’t even open his mouth that the Android was already walking past him, ignoring his creator, walking out of the room. “DATA, stop.” Even though his voice his soft and low, it didn’t make it less an order. Theon turned to look at his android’s back, stopped in his tracks. He hated using orders, he tended to use them as less than possible, fairly certain that DATA was able to function without having his creator breathing down his neck. Because DATA was not like other androids, and Theon knew that, even if he didn’t know to which extent it went. The only fact that DATA felt resentment, it said a lot. “Can we just please discuss this?”
The familiar joy that accompanied the sight of blonde hair and blue eyes curled low in his gut, souring with the increasingly intimate recognition of anxiety and anger. Tendrils of trepidation clawed their way up his spine at the approaching sight of his creator, encouraging the desperate need to flee that was slowly building with an unbearable pressure in the forefront of his mind. Theon’s company, usually welcomed with a wide smile independent of his creator’s intentions, provided him with little more than broken animosity and unfounded indignation.
A moment of peace passed over the pair, a merciful calm before the devastation of a ruthless storm took hold, as their eyes met. Despite the isolated introversion the inventor frequently engaged in with his emotions, DATA could not overlook the raw sorrow overwhelming the cerulean irises boring into his. But sorrow would not be enough to bridge the growing gap that had already swallowed both of them whole. DATA held no resistance as the urge to flee overtook his being, rising from his previously placid posture to brush past the man he owed his life without so much as a courteous glance of acknowledgment. He did not want to hear what Theon had to say, to the excuses he would make to justify the heartbreak currently wracking the sturdy, steel frame that had never felt weaker.
An order, called out absent of enough hesitation to be ignored, forced his stuttered footfalls to halt without his conscious choice. He could not disobey his creator; his code – the frustrating basis of his being – would not allow such defiance to define his actions. Anger, white hot, twisted his features until there were no traces of tenderness in the sharp lines of his downturned lips and clenched fists as he turned to face Theon. Arms crossed over his broad chest in a faux attempt at protection from the conflict Theon dared to discuss. “What would you like to discuss, Theon?” The last word, a name only said in reverence, was vile and sour on his tongue as he spat out his accusatory inquiry. “How you would rather spend your time with a faded memory than those that exist in front of you?”
Brown eyes observed the hurt crossing the beloved features, soft in the desperate devastation of their paired betrayal, with a remorseful glee. He wanted to protect Theon from the agonizing tragedy of a heartbreak felt too deeply, but his first experience with anger encouraged the careless, bloodthirsty demand to make him feel a misery that mirrored his own. “I’m here and he’s not, yet every day you long for him – Eli – who left you alone in the world because of his own hubristic attempts at immortality.” His voice held the frostbitten tone of an icy anger never seen before, raw in the cruelty it provoked.
Yet anger never lasted, giving way to the overwhelming sadness accompanying the resigned realization of reality. “Is that what I am meant to be?” His words, anguished beneath a tone of contempt, were nothing more than a whisper as lashes met to obscure the emotion emitting from his far too expressive eyes. “A cheap imitation of a lost love you would replace without a spare thought?”
Crossed arms fell away from his chest to lay at his sides, fists curling in a tight ball of hopeless optimism. “I am more than that, Theon.” Determination rang through his exclamation of worth as brown irises moved to meet Theon’s for the first time in their discussion. "I am more than him."
orionthayer:
“Thanks for the statistical analysis. And the IBM - can’t make it a mile without it.” Pressing their lips together, Orion rather reluctantly took the IBM from his hand, unsure of how they felt about encountering him here. Or really, anywhere. From the beginning, Orion hadn’t quite understood them - the one anomaly among the crew, the only one with a tin heart that hadn’t replaced a beating one. Less than a human, he didn’t quite lay claim to robot either. Perhaps he copied them too finely, able to mimic their emotions and actions down to a t. Whether that was intentional, or a flaw in his code, Orion had yet to discover. Either way, in the dim light, the fake smile excepted, he appeared to be almost human. A bit of a tragedy. Quickly squashing the sentimental sympathy, Orion pushed the IBM into their pocket, wondering what would happen now.
Then, furrowing their eyebrows, their hand instinctively went to the soul in their neck - the one that had long felt redundant, given the anonymous lifestyle they had been blessed with living. “How did you find me? Don’t tell me you’ve got a stalker setting.” Although their words came out a little too crudely to be taken as a joke, Orion quickly chewed down on their lip - feeling a little guilty. I shouldn’t be so hard with my words. Then again, was he even capable of feeling hurt? Although no scientist or engineer, Orion was eager to find out. “Because then I’d have to toss water on your motherboard.” Ah fuck - didn’t look like they would be getting much information gathering done - not when they weren’t sure if they could trust him. It was messed up, how a group of people could spend six months together and yet be entirely uncertain of each other.
A look of confusion furrowed his brow as he stared at the human before him. “You made it many miles into the city without your IBM.” Despite the constant interaction with those he was so desperate to imitate, DATA still found himself unable to grasp the carefully crafted notions that were embedded in the language and social structures of the human race. His expression did not waver – in contrast, it seemed to grow in intensity - as Orion continued to speak in colloquialisms that DATA had yet to comprehend. He did not believe they truly intended to cause harm by ‘throwing water on his motherboard,’ as if Theon had not already engaged the precautionary protection of ensuring his circuits were designed to prevent water from interrupting his basic function. Instead, he reasoned, such an expression of ill intention must be akin to that of a jest; although, DATA had yet to understand the context in which the threat of harm would be humorous.
Their words, paired with an anxious countenance embodied in bitten lips and a restless gaze, evoked an uncommon feeling of shame. He had obviously done something to unsettle his fellow crew member. Fingers wrapped together in an unconscious movement of apprehension over his own actions. Perhaps he should not have attempted to return their communication device; perhaps he had misread the complex social cues that still awarded him frustrating complications by attempting to engage in their communal relationship outside the steel barriers of the ship. “I apologize if my company has persecuted you with unwanted attention,” he said, referencing the definition of the new addition to his vocabulary. “I merely followed your biological signature in order to successfully deliver your communication device.”
ervtreia:
With Theon’s final word, her gaze couldn’t help but search for DATA from across the room. It was impulsive, anything but clinical in its attempt to find a reflexion. The android remained undaunted, staring at the screen while the image faded. The interviews had been rough on everyone; she could easily attest to that, her heart still beating faster than normal after she left the room on the screen. It was daunting to know everyone was now aware of your darkest, deepest, greatest secrets, the pain you tried so hard to mask, the memories you tried to never remember. But it was more than that: the questions and the forced answers were a realization that everyone on board had a past and that pasts rarely remain where they belong.
Eretreia’s gaze dwelled on DATA, the robotic semblance he always carried shifted and cracked, a single flash of what looked like pain cross his eyes before it disappeared again, carried away with him leaving the room. The room was silent, as it had been for the past couple of hours, the tension thickening, close to suffocating. She followed him out of the room, hastening her steps to catch up to him. “DATA!”
Androids can’t actually feel human emotions. The meaning of that knowledge was often lost on Eretreia. She knew the specifics, the coding and the format, how androids were built, not born, how their mechanical hearts didn’t pulse with blood and their behaviour should be the result of flawed learning experiences; while she was never before in the presence of another android, it felt like nothing of it mattered. DATA was a being, if not human – something more. A machine with human behaviour would, inevitably, become one itself.
She finally reached him, stopping just a few feet away to catch a breath. She thought about asking “How are you feeling?” but she knew what the response would be: a formulated, automatic answer that told her he couldn’t feel. She didn’t want to hear it, whether because she didn’t believe it or because she was afraid the answer would be completely different from what she was expecting. Instead, she reached out to his hand and stroke it, softly, before wrapping his body in a hug.
“It’s alright,” she meant it and although it was a very human caprice to assume other people would understand what remained unspoken, she despairingly hoped that he would.
The echoing call of his name, wrapped in the familiar inflections of good intentions, forced his previously stressed footsteps to stumble to a sudden halt. Fighting the desperate urge to flee, to run from the demons nipping at his heels under the guise of genuine emotions, DATA turned to face the oncoming storm presented in the nimble frame of one of the few people he could label as a friend.
Brown eyes became obscured by the brief embrace of lashes as DATA relished in the gentle caress of fingertips tracing over the unblemished, synthetic skin of his mechanical knuckles. The gesture, something as simple as touch, provided DATA with a calmness only previously felt by in the reassuring presence of his creator. A golden halo of hair, a dimpled smile of joy, and the gentle dance of calloused fingers across his stitched skin had always been sourced of comfort; but now, in the distorted light flashing red, red, red, red, green, DATA knew that any gentle gesture garnered from the man he dared to trust unconditionally would result in a despondent reflection of his own ignorance.
Eretreia’s touch, so blessedly different from that he had grown used to in the self-indulged isolation he fell into by Theon’s side, provided the soothing nurture needed to inspire a vulnerability DATA had never allowed himself. He was helpless as his expression morphed into an expected heartbreak, the swirling sadness of tragedy and despair wrapping together in a lover's embrace across the broken countenance.
Folded into the foreign comfort of a hug, hesitant hands followed the known mechanics blueprinting the correct movements to engage in a suitable response as he allowed his first feelings of despair to overwhelm him. With arms wrapped around the lithe frame exuding waves of reassurance, DATA felt pinpricks of tears threaten to flood his eyes. Confusion, briefly felt at the emergence of the automatic response from the artificial nervous system that spanned through his body, only served to escalate the already overwhelming sensations echoing through his mind. What purpose would surrendering control over a useless lacrimal apparatus serve for an android? Why would Theon subject him to the humiliation of obtaining the ability to cry?
Burying his face within the soft cotton sheltering Eretria’s shoulder, DATA attempted to allow the empty words to ease him into a false comfort. He understood how humans were expected to feel when administered placating words of consolation; yet, the desperate feelings accompanying his sorrow did not dwindle. “I preferred apathy to this.” His voice was fragile beneath the heavy weight of his heartbreak. “I don’t like it.” Rattling breath, harsh against the raw emotion clogging his throat, fell from his lips in a fruitless attempt to regulate the unneeded breath filling his lungs. “How do you do this every day? How do you humans feel this all the time?”
senecavoix:
· · · · ·Seneca blinked, lips parting slightly in an odd mix of surprise and amusement. Despite the amount of time she’d spent travelling on the _SSV Concord _by now, sometimes she was still a little bewildered by DATA’s likeness to life. She’d met various AI before, of course, her father had owned several back when she used to live within the luxurious confines of the Voix residence. Still, there was something fascinating and new about DATA. At any rate, he seemed to be one of the few aboard who didn’t openly turn their nose up at her last name - a fact that which she was certainly grateful for.·
· · · · ·She considered his words for half a beat, shoulders lifting into a light-hearted shrug. “I suppose safety isn’t a very big factor anymore,” she relented, “considering the type of personnel this ship seems to favour.” Criminals, was what she meant - although she didn’t say it. She figured she wasn’t exactly saintly herself. At least the crew was honest about it. “Okay, other factors - culture, maybe? Experience? Happiness? Truth seeking?”·
· · · · ·She glanced at the other for half a beat. “Why, what would you do?”
Brown irises grew distant as lines of code overwhelmed his thoughts, analyzing and calculating the various factors she offered within an assortment of contexts that involved leaving the safety of the ship and exploring the planet many of the crew called home.
Despite the distance that stretched between the pair unfamiliar enough to still call strangers, DATA felt an unexplainable comfort when placed in the company of Seneca Voix. The most likely of reasons originated in the synthetic nature she chose for herself, a kinship unfelt in the other relationships DATA had formed with the SSV Concord’s crew members. Unlike those who claimed the title of organic with pride and arrogance, Seneca’s gaze had never been one filled with fear – amusement or astonishment perhaps, but never fear.
“Culture would favor the former option of leaving the ship.” Each inflection held the characteristic indifference of his robotic nature as he rattled off the results of his analysis. “I’m afraid the other factors are subjective and cannot be calculated absent of the interference of bias.” His words came to an abrupt halt as his thoughts began revolving around the idea that perhaps her questions had been rhetorical.
“I will accompany Theon back to his home,” he answered, ignoring any airing for preference in his response. Although he would enjoy exploring areas of Wrotham he had yet to discover, Theon would be unlikely to permit such an exploration in fear of DATA’s safety.