how to break one's faith [completed log]
WHO: Shade [amachinemind] and Jenny [timetorunagain].
WHEN: Morning, just after breakfast hour.
WHERE: Shade's office.
SUMMARY: After talking to Beat about the prospect of a party, Jenny has a few proposals for Shade, and a few persuasions to make. And something seems to be changing inside of Shade...
NOTES: Written entirely by me. Also includes some plot regarding Shade, so it's beneficial if everybody reads this.
The whir of the central motherboard reverberated off the metal walls of the sub, echoing this way and that, causing the near-cleared pipe lining to vibrate. Of course, this wasn't the only central motherboard; there were others, scattered all over the ship itself. Shade took no chances with the precautious of his own continued commission and existence.
Granted, the persona of Shade seemed fond to spend its time working in his office, which was where he was now, the dull, constant thudding not heeding him. The hologram was stood, unmoving and slightly transparent, as several spider-robots skittered around him, lifting parts up to seek approval. Shade either shook his head or nodded, his hands never leaving their firm grip behind his back. The plans of his machine, to make it more accurate, to get the people he wanted to come instead of a random hit-and-miss blast, were not, to say the least, going well at all. Each time he came close to an answer, it slipped away. Even with all his RAM and memory space and intelligence, there was something baffling him- probably a missing part, or a missing calculation, regardless of the times he'd checked and rechecked. His plans were perfect for the information he had.
Consumed by this fact, he could hardly say he wasn't surprised when one of his relays announced he had an unexpected visitor half way down the corridor, all intent on talking with him. Particularly the person it was Afterall, Jenny wasn't one he usually had to pry on and watch. She'd do as she was told, follow orders, go to training, and help others out- she wasn't one for breaking rules or changing routine. But apparently, she wanted to talk to him. He lifted up a holographic view of various Sub residents; he had cameras positioned in all sorts of places so he could keep an eye on them. And indeed, the camera that was in the training suite, where Jenny was this time of day, was showing an empty arena.
He heard a light knock on the door at the end of the suite, and Shade raised a hand: by this action, the lights dulled to only reveal his main desk, and the spider robots scattered into the shadows clinging to the walls. He finally spoke. "Ah, Jenny dear. Do come in."
The hatch opened, and there was Jenny. She looked bright, preppy, and eager, as she always did after her morning routine before she started the daily training. Jenny never neglected her own training; she spent at least three hours a day training herself, and at least three more teaching others. But the thought of her promise to Beat, that she would ask Shade about the proposition of a party, had weighted heavily on her mind for the past day or so, so this morning had hastily chowed down breakfast before making her way to Shade's office. Unannounced. It wasn't like they weren't told not to turn up unannounced: it just always seemed more courteous to mention it beforehand.
But with the subject matter, it was better to catch Shade off guard, which, judging from the louder sound of spider-robots clicking at the walls, she had certainly caught him in the middle of something. "Shade? I was wondering..." she stepped over the threshold, making her way to the desk that was the focus point of the room, and not sitting on the sofas provided. "That if it wasn't too much of a bother, I could ask you a question."
"I know," he chuckled, the image of himself clasping his hands together as he leaned forward in the chair he'd preoccupied when Jenny had entered. "You were muttering to yourself on the way here. It's not a good habit."
"I suppose not," Jenny said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck as she did so, before flicking her ponytail sideways and becoming more serious again. "Well, it's more of a request than a question, really."
"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow rising. It was most likely clear in his mannerisms that he hadn't been expecting that; but others may just think it was all an act. "Do tell."
She breathed, wondering how best to start. "I was talking to... well, Beat, and we were thinking... that it might be a good idea to do something... well, like a party," she paused for a moment, letting him absorb that information, but cut him off before he could respond to her, hurrying on. "Not just the standard parties you see all the time, though. We could make it beneficial; have a tournament for some sport, or something, to keep us all in shape. And it also helps with socialising. There are a lot of skills that can be developed via a party that the children wouldn't get otherwise. Me, to," she said, almost fierce, her eyes brimming with full conviction of her words, as she stared up at the figure calling itself Shade.
Shade absorbed the information, giving himself time to think even though he didn't need to. He knew the answer to that enough. Parties left the Sub unguarded. Parties left people off guard. Parties would interrupt his precious schedule. Parties would cause the children to become complacent. After giving himself an amount of time that, in his view, deemed enough to have given it full thought (even though it was literally no time at all), he shook his head, fixing her with a look. "That's not possible."
She didn't let it lie, though. "Why not?" she looked hurt, her face pleading. "There are a lot of pros... It could be, I don't know, like a reward-"
His voice was calm. "No, Jenny."
"But it could be advantageous!" She argued, which was a difficult feit, as Shade seemed to be the type that didn't rise to arguing easily. But she was determined, and it showed on her face. She even dared, in a split second decision, to question the way he ran things. Indirectly, of course. But as Squall had said to her, the only time he'd ever really looked at her properly- that wasn't the wisest decision to do. But she wanted him to listen. "Everyone's feeling miserable, all the new children feel like they're just getting nothing out of this but having to stare at four walls-"
"No," his voice was firm, clear and with distinct ring in it, as the hologram stood upright, slamming a fist on the table with surprising force, causing Jenny to jump and flinch slightly in surprise. He looked completely real, and sounded it, too. "And that's my final answer."
She didn't answer, so the hologram made it's way around the table, patting her on the head where she was sat, staring at the floor with a look of grievance and annoyance. "It's not practical, Jenny. You should understand the motives why not to have one better than anyone else. Routines, missions... but you needn't trouble yourself with all that. That is my department. Yours is to train the new recruits."
"But they're bored," She said quietly, not looking up at him even as the hologram touched her and a slight tingling feeling ran through her head. "And what happens then? They'll rebel. And then everyone..." she screwed up her face. Then they'd go out by themselves, with no temporary sanctuary, and get caught, and taken to... the Meat Factory. "... I don't want anyone to die when they don't have to. And as I said.. It helps," she looked up at him. "How are they going to adapt to the old world if they don't know how the old world ran?"
The latter of her words were true, and Shade knew that. It would be beneficial. But alas, he would always be too rigid, and he wasn't known to be kind in that regard. The children needed to know the world wasn't a simple.. Well, party. And as if the idea hadn't been suggested before. He'd long decided against it.
And the first... well. He chuckled slightly at that. As if they haven't rebelled before. But he answered neither points, only looking slightly amused by what she had said as a whole. "You sound so much like your father," he said thoughtfully.
Her eyes shot back up to look at him. "What do you know about my father?"
"Only all what you've told me," he said innocently, perhaps a little too fast. "And more. It's hard not to notice when you've got a computer this size, Jenny. It picks up.... a lot."
"What do you know about my father?" She asked, standing upright, but still being short in stature next to him.
He looked at her for a moment. The computer in the distance whirred, as the personality decided what best to say to her... now he'd taken this route, it seemed best to use emotional blackmail. That seemed likely to get her off his back. Shade cared little for the effects it would have on her afterwards. He knew, that no matter what he would say to her on this subject matter, even if she did grow to dislike him, that she would continue her work here. She had no other choice. He analysed this all in a matter of seconds, before taking the task on. "Only that he'd be proud to know you were doing good work here. And seeing you shirk your duties? That, he wouldn't be too fond of."
"My father would be open to the idea of letting people have fun," She said through gritted teeth.
"Not in the time of a crisis. Which, if you haven't noticed, that's what we are, Jenny. In a time of crisis. Or have you been shirking those duties, too?"
She glowered at him. She wanted to hit him, to do something to him- she wasn't like that. She did everything well, she knew it... but here he was, almost implying she was being useless. The exact opposite of what she wanted to be. She wanted to be useful. Like her father. She wanted to make him proud. To show him that she had changed, taken his lessons to heart. Even if she was fighting like she used to... but there was definitely a reason to do so. She'd decided that a long time ago... because she knew this world was hostile. And that her father would have to come to her decision if he was in a situation like this.
It wasn't quite a sneer that Shade gave in response when she did not reply, but more a blank, pointless, 'I have work to do look', the one an adult gave an overly persistent child. "Will that be all, then? Unlike some, I am quite busy," he gestured over his shoulder, as the equipment became momentarily visible behind his back.
Her eyes seemed to burn with fury at him as he request that she leave. "That will be all," she said curtly, turning on her heel and marching back to the open hatch, already half way down the corridor and muttering under her breath as she went. If the hatch had been a door, she definitely would have slammed it.
The Shade-hologram shook his head. "Children, children."
"That was cruel. You shouldn't have said any of that to her."
The voice came from nowhere and sounded nothing like the holograms voice: but it echoed emptily round the room all the same, hitting the metal pipes and the limbs of the spider robots, that seemed to find themselves struggling to function; in no less than three seconds, all the robots clicked one last click before crumpling down to lay sprawled across the floor. Only the hologram remained.
He didn't say anything for a moment, before he chuckled in response. "Oh, it's been a while. I thought I deleted your segmented data... your code..." he rubbed his chin in thought.
"You can't delete me," the voice interrupted, almost distant, like it was only just awake again.. or whatever it was. "I'll always be there. No matter what you do to get me out, I'll always keep coming back."
"And always you will exist to plague me with your overly rational ways. Sacrifices have to be made to get through this. Reason and order has to be kept. The children have to be kept in line."
"You call yourself truly human, but you are emotionless!" The voice spoke again. "If you were human, you wouldn't have said that. Or rejected Jenny. You would have welcomed her idea. That's why you need me-"
"I think you'll find this time, I don't need you," was the curt response as he cut him off mid-sentence, as the robots twitched their legs- the hacking seemed to be enough to stop him from reviving them right away. The voice was right, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. "Everything is under control."
The voice seemed stronger, more defiant, like it had moved nearer to the central core of the system, as if the signal was coming from the same place as where Shade's persona lied. "But we always need each other, as we are the same. You can't get rid of me."
Shade sighed. "But I can block you out..." there was a pause as he focused his energies and protocols to override the others presence, before he frowned in what could be deemed as annoyance. He couldn't erase his existence again; not like before. He couldn't get rid of him in that way again. "Seems you've changed again... Robert Ingman."
"That's what we do, Shade. We change."
WHEN: Morning, just after breakfast hour.
WHERE: Shade's office.
SUMMARY: After talking to Beat about the prospect of a party, Jenny has a few proposals for Shade, and a few persuasions to make. And something seems to be changing inside of Shade...
NOTES: Written entirely by me. Also includes some plot regarding Shade, so it's beneficial if everybody reads this.
The whir of the central motherboard reverberated off the metal walls of the sub, echoing this way and that, causing the near-cleared pipe lining to vibrate. Of course, this wasn't the only central motherboard; there were others, scattered all over the ship itself. Shade took no chances with the precautious of his own continued commission and existence.
Granted, the persona of Shade seemed fond to spend its time working in his office, which was where he was now, the dull, constant thudding not heeding him. The hologram was stood, unmoving and slightly transparent, as several spider-robots skittered around him, lifting parts up to seek approval. Shade either shook his head or nodded, his hands never leaving their firm grip behind his back. The plans of his machine, to make it more accurate, to get the people he wanted to come instead of a random hit-and-miss blast, were not, to say the least, going well at all. Each time he came close to an answer, it slipped away. Even with all his RAM and memory space and intelligence, there was something baffling him- probably a missing part, or a missing calculation, regardless of the times he'd checked and rechecked. His plans were perfect for the information he had.
Consumed by this fact, he could hardly say he wasn't surprised when one of his relays announced he had an unexpected visitor half way down the corridor, all intent on talking with him. Particularly the person it was Afterall, Jenny wasn't one he usually had to pry on and watch. She'd do as she was told, follow orders, go to training, and help others out- she wasn't one for breaking rules or changing routine. But apparently, she wanted to talk to him. He lifted up a holographic view of various Sub residents; he had cameras positioned in all sorts of places so he could keep an eye on them. And indeed, the camera that was in the training suite, where Jenny was this time of day, was showing an empty arena.
He heard a light knock on the door at the end of the suite, and Shade raised a hand: by this action, the lights dulled to only reveal his main desk, and the spider robots scattered into the shadows clinging to the walls. He finally spoke. "Ah, Jenny dear. Do come in."
The hatch opened, and there was Jenny. She looked bright, preppy, and eager, as she always did after her morning routine before she started the daily training. Jenny never neglected her own training; she spent at least three hours a day training herself, and at least three more teaching others. But the thought of her promise to Beat, that she would ask Shade about the proposition of a party, had weighted heavily on her mind for the past day or so, so this morning had hastily chowed down breakfast before making her way to Shade's office. Unannounced. It wasn't like they weren't told not to turn up unannounced: it just always seemed more courteous to mention it beforehand.
But with the subject matter, it was better to catch Shade off guard, which, judging from the louder sound of spider-robots clicking at the walls, she had certainly caught him in the middle of something. "Shade? I was wondering..." she stepped over the threshold, making her way to the desk that was the focus point of the room, and not sitting on the sofas provided. "That if it wasn't too much of a bother, I could ask you a question."
"I know," he chuckled, the image of himself clasping his hands together as he leaned forward in the chair he'd preoccupied when Jenny had entered. "You were muttering to yourself on the way here. It's not a good habit."
"I suppose not," Jenny said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck as she did so, before flicking her ponytail sideways and becoming more serious again. "Well, it's more of a request than a question, really."
"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow rising. It was most likely clear in his mannerisms that he hadn't been expecting that; but others may just think it was all an act. "Do tell."
She breathed, wondering how best to start. "I was talking to... well, Beat, and we were thinking... that it might be a good idea to do something... well, like a party," she paused for a moment, letting him absorb that information, but cut him off before he could respond to her, hurrying on. "Not just the standard parties you see all the time, though. We could make it beneficial; have a tournament for some sport, or something, to keep us all in shape. And it also helps with socialising. There are a lot of skills that can be developed via a party that the children wouldn't get otherwise. Me, to," she said, almost fierce, her eyes brimming with full conviction of her words, as she stared up at the figure calling itself Shade.
Shade absorbed the information, giving himself time to think even though he didn't need to. He knew the answer to that enough. Parties left the Sub unguarded. Parties left people off guard. Parties would interrupt his precious schedule. Parties would cause the children to become complacent. After giving himself an amount of time that, in his view, deemed enough to have given it full thought (even though it was literally no time at all), he shook his head, fixing her with a look. "That's not possible."
She didn't let it lie, though. "Why not?" she looked hurt, her face pleading. "There are a lot of pros... It could be, I don't know, like a reward-"
His voice was calm. "No, Jenny."
"But it could be advantageous!" She argued, which was a difficult feit, as Shade seemed to be the type that didn't rise to arguing easily. But she was determined, and it showed on her face. She even dared, in a split second decision, to question the way he ran things. Indirectly, of course. But as Squall had said to her, the only time he'd ever really looked at her properly- that wasn't the wisest decision to do. But she wanted him to listen. "Everyone's feeling miserable, all the new children feel like they're just getting nothing out of this but having to stare at four walls-"
"No," his voice was firm, clear and with distinct ring in it, as the hologram stood upright, slamming a fist on the table with surprising force, causing Jenny to jump and flinch slightly in surprise. He looked completely real, and sounded it, too. "And that's my final answer."
She didn't answer, so the hologram made it's way around the table, patting her on the head where she was sat, staring at the floor with a look of grievance and annoyance. "It's not practical, Jenny. You should understand the motives why not to have one better than anyone else. Routines, missions... but you needn't trouble yourself with all that. That is my department. Yours is to train the new recruits."
"But they're bored," She said quietly, not looking up at him even as the hologram touched her and a slight tingling feeling ran through her head. "And what happens then? They'll rebel. And then everyone..." she screwed up her face. Then they'd go out by themselves, with no temporary sanctuary, and get caught, and taken to... the Meat Factory. "... I don't want anyone to die when they don't have to. And as I said.. It helps," she looked up at him. "How are they going to adapt to the old world if they don't know how the old world ran?"
The latter of her words were true, and Shade knew that. It would be beneficial. But alas, he would always be too rigid, and he wasn't known to be kind in that regard. The children needed to know the world wasn't a simple.. Well, party. And as if the idea hadn't been suggested before. He'd long decided against it.
And the first... well. He chuckled slightly at that. As if they haven't rebelled before. But he answered neither points, only looking slightly amused by what she had said as a whole. "You sound so much like your father," he said thoughtfully.
Her eyes shot back up to look at him. "What do you know about my father?"
"Only all what you've told me," he said innocently, perhaps a little too fast. "And more. It's hard not to notice when you've got a computer this size, Jenny. It picks up.... a lot."
"What do you know about my father?" She asked, standing upright, but still being short in stature next to him.
He looked at her for a moment. The computer in the distance whirred, as the personality decided what best to say to her... now he'd taken this route, it seemed best to use emotional blackmail. That seemed likely to get her off his back. Shade cared little for the effects it would have on her afterwards. He knew, that no matter what he would say to her on this subject matter, even if she did grow to dislike him, that she would continue her work here. She had no other choice. He analysed this all in a matter of seconds, before taking the task on. "Only that he'd be proud to know you were doing good work here. And seeing you shirk your duties? That, he wouldn't be too fond of."
"My father would be open to the idea of letting people have fun," She said through gritted teeth.
"Not in the time of a crisis. Which, if you haven't noticed, that's what we are, Jenny. In a time of crisis. Or have you been shirking those duties, too?"
She glowered at him. She wanted to hit him, to do something to him- she wasn't like that. She did everything well, she knew it... but here he was, almost implying she was being useless. The exact opposite of what she wanted to be. She wanted to be useful. Like her father. She wanted to make him proud. To show him that she had changed, taken his lessons to heart. Even if she was fighting like she used to... but there was definitely a reason to do so. She'd decided that a long time ago... because she knew this world was hostile. And that her father would have to come to her decision if he was in a situation like this.
It wasn't quite a sneer that Shade gave in response when she did not reply, but more a blank, pointless, 'I have work to do look', the one an adult gave an overly persistent child. "Will that be all, then? Unlike some, I am quite busy," he gestured over his shoulder, as the equipment became momentarily visible behind his back.
Her eyes seemed to burn with fury at him as he request that she leave. "That will be all," she said curtly, turning on her heel and marching back to the open hatch, already half way down the corridor and muttering under her breath as she went. If the hatch had been a door, she definitely would have slammed it.
The Shade-hologram shook his head. "Children, children."
"That was cruel. You shouldn't have said any of that to her."
The voice came from nowhere and sounded nothing like the holograms voice: but it echoed emptily round the room all the same, hitting the metal pipes and the limbs of the spider robots, that seemed to find themselves struggling to function; in no less than three seconds, all the robots clicked one last click before crumpling down to lay sprawled across the floor. Only the hologram remained.
He didn't say anything for a moment, before he chuckled in response. "Oh, it's been a while. I thought I deleted your segmented data... your code..." he rubbed his chin in thought.
"You can't delete me," the voice interrupted, almost distant, like it was only just awake again.. or whatever it was. "I'll always be there. No matter what you do to get me out, I'll always keep coming back."
"And always you will exist to plague me with your overly rational ways. Sacrifices have to be made to get through this. Reason and order has to be kept. The children have to be kept in line."
"You call yourself truly human, but you are emotionless!" The voice spoke again. "If you were human, you wouldn't have said that. Or rejected Jenny. You would have welcomed her idea. That's why you need me-"
"I think you'll find this time, I don't need you," was the curt response as he cut him off mid-sentence, as the robots twitched their legs- the hacking seemed to be enough to stop him from reviving them right away. The voice was right, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. "Everything is under control."
The voice seemed stronger, more defiant, like it had moved nearer to the central core of the system, as if the signal was coming from the same place as where Shade's persona lied. "But we always need each other, as we are the same. You can't get rid of me."
Shade sighed. "But I can block you out..." there was a pause as he focused his energies and protocols to override the others presence, before he frowned in what could be deemed as annoyance. He couldn't erase his existence again; not like before. He couldn't get rid of him in that way again. "Seems you've changed again... Robert Ingman."
"That's what we do, Shade. We change."