- Pronouns
- He
[X] In which Quote and Syn remain your favourites to work with
He might not be able to guess why Arthur is tense about this but I sure can!
He might not be able to guess why Arthur is tense about this but I sure can!
Machine Learning: A Cave Story Quest
- Thread starter Lepidoptera
- Start date
- Action
[X] In which Chevron cannot be left to his own devices
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Memory time!
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
I've been busy with work recently, so today's update has been delayed. I'm not sure when it will be up, but it is still in progress.
Recovered Data 6 - Indecision
New
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Machine Learning - Recovered Data 6 - Indecision
The village had been impressive when your team arrived. Even knowing that it was relatively small and undeveloped by modern standards, the simple wood and clay walls and thatched roofs came together to make something more. They filled the space of the valley, crowding around the edges against the pair of hills that enclosed it and stretching down to follow the stream that ran down its length. At one end of the valley, a small waterfall connected the river to the larger stream above. Buildings rose up larger close to the waterfall, still the same simple wood and earth. Short rock walls cut the settlement into layers extending out from that end of the valley, each one less occupied than the last. By the sixth division, there were only a scant few houses overlooking a wide stretch of farmland. A mix of grains, trees, and some sort of fruit-bearing vines all mingled in a delicate pattern over the field, forming blocks of color. Mimiga wandered the loosely-paved streets without a care.
Now, everything is ashes and ruins. The low evening sun burns just barely above the valley's edge, its harsh orange glow mirrored in the spreading fire that rises with every moment. Embers float through the streets and fields like fireflies. The air is filled with the sound of crackling fire and the groaning of burning wood caving in. Black smoke chokes the streets and curls around unmoving bodies. The fields behind you are a sea of ashes long since burned through. If you listen carefully, you think you can still hear Paren's cheering and cackling drifting over the scorched farmland.
She and Curly had struck directly, starting at the valley's unpopulated end, while you, Quote, and the Commander all snuck deeper into the colony to break up any potential response and search for any Demon Flowers. Chevron was stationed along one edge of the valley as a spotter. The plan went off flawlessly, with some small exceptions.
Everything was not supposed to be on fire, for one. Burning the Red Flowers here would be a disaster. The smoke is still potent enough to turn Mimiga who inhale it, if slowly. A colony of this size all turning rabid at once would be a disaster. You had killed the third rabid Mimiga spotted on-site minutes ago, so there were Red Flowers here. That too had not been part of the plan, but all three had been encountered alone and dispatched by whoever found them without issue. Not an issue of any consequence. What's more problematic is how it's limited your searching prospects. There are Red Flowers here; suspicion of such a thing is why your team was sent, and now it's been confirmed. But with the whole colony in flames, actually finding the flowers has become exponentially more difficult. Three doses may have been all they had, but if there were any more it would be reckless to keep searching for them through burning buildings. You'll have to comb through the ashes once the fire dies down. One way or another, the mission will still be accomplished. Again, not an issue of any consequence.
No, the issue is Chevron. Specifically, the fact that Chevron is standing in the town square just a block ahead of you. The fire has already churned through this part of the colony, leaving behind the smoldering skeletons of buildings standing as a forest of blackened scaffolding around the circle of rough cobbled streets. Bodies litter the square. The dead Mimiga are splotches of white against the burnt-out ground. Many of them are stained black, soot clinging to fur in sickly patches. Your attention slides over the scene and the bodies alike, unable to settle on anything other than your fellow soldier.
Chevron would look out of place standing here even if you didn't know where they are supposed to be. With their hair tied back in a loose ponytail and a plain grey jacket adorned with stickers and pins of all kinds, they don't look fit for a war zone. You know this impression, at least, to be false. Chevron is still one of you, and you are all killers. Even as the least physically able model, his aim is better than any of the rest of you except Commander Syn. No human could ever hope to match the flawless aim of a machine, but Chevron takes that a step further than the rest of you. It's why he was supposed to be positioned above the valley colony where he could freely target any fleeing Mimiga and keep the battlefield locked down. There is no good reason for him to be here, staring blankly at one of the dead bodies with his gun not in his hands.
The crunch of your feet over burnt timbers announces your presence. Chevron turns slowly, far too slowly, towards the sound. What would he have done if it had been a Mimiga instead of you? Drawing and firing still takes time even for a machine and Mimiga can move fast when they want to. Even when they're wounded.
"You're too unaware of your surroundings, Chevron." you chide. "What if I had been somebody attacking you? Such a slow reaction wouldn't be able to protect you."
"But you'd never try something like that, Bracket." Chevron says in reply. Completely missing what your actual point was. You catch the ghost of some other expression vanishing under a carefree smile as he turns towards you.
"You couldn't have known it was me." you point out. "A Mimiga could have killed you, being so inattentive."
"Ah, but I've got all of you looking out for me!" Chevron cheers, still completely missing the point. His weapon is still holstered, not in his hands.
"You do not." The words feel too heavy on your lips, but they need to be said. "You were not supposed to be here. None of us knew to expect your presence. It was chance alone that I found you." Chevron looks away from you, smile dimming. You dismiss the guilt that wells up inside you. Chevron has to learn these things. He should already know them by now in the first place. "And on that note, what are you doing here? You were supposed to stay at the cliffside."
"Well, Paren wasn't supposed to set the colony on fire, so plans clearly should've been adjusted." Chevron says. There's not a trace of accusation in his voice, just observation. As if it isn't Paren's explicit fault that everything caught fire.
Later, you'll look back on memories like this with fondness. Of when Chevron didn't fold to the slightest critique. His arguments were never well-reasoned or convincing, but the complete lack of pushback will never not feel wrong no matter if it's more efficient or not.
"This isn't about what Paren did, but I'm sure the Chief Engineer will have words with her after this." you say. Not that anything will come of it. Paren has always been like this, and burning down a settlement that was going to be destroyed anyways is hardly a step too far. Unless she becomes an actual liability, nobody will step in. "This is about your safety. What made you believe this was a good idea?"
You keep your voice level through effort alone. Chevron doesn't have to do the same. The feeble diversion he offers doesn't carry even a hint of irritation. "Shouldn't you be looking for the Red Flowers right now?"
"There's no point while the colony is burning like this. Either the flowers will burn, or the villagers have already used all the doses they had. If anything remains once the fire has died out, we'll find it. But as long as none of the Mimiga manage to escape the valley, there won't be an issue. And if you had stayed in position, we would have that under control as well." you explain. Chevron's posture worsens as your explanation drones on, like he's trying to hide behind something that isn't there. It's only once you finish that he snaps back up to his full height.
"Well…" Chevron rakes his fingers through his hair nervously. "I won't do it again? I was just…"
An emotion you can't place flickers across Chevron's face, but it's gone as quickly as it appears.
"Don't." you insist, shaking your head in disapproval. You fully expect Chevron to break his promise. It's just the way things go. It's really only the Commander and Quote who follow instructions more than half the time. For now, you simply have to correct course on this operation. "There's no time for you to get back in position. We'll split up and try to clear out more of the survivors."
Even you can't miss Chevron wince when you mention survivors. "Do we…"
"Yes," you say in anticipation to Chevron's question. The next words turn out heavier than you had wanted. A cold, lifeless weight that settles in your mouth as you speak. "It's necessary. We have our orders."
"Is that-"
Whatever protests Chevron has are drowned out. One of the fallen Mimiga, body stained black and red with soot and blood and missing patches of fur that were burned away, moves. It's barely more than a twitch. Just moving their arm and pushing themself up off the ground ever so slightly. The motion is slow and clumsy, like their body is being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer. They're so, so close to Chevron, enough that if they could reach out they could touch him. But they cannot reach out. Not with the few embers of strength that remain in their charred body. They raise their head, fur matted with blood and soot, and Chevron meets the dying Mimiga's gaze.
You can't see either of their faces. Chevron's normally-relaxed body is wrought with tension. Not the tension of a battle, wound back like a coiled spring ready for motion. Not your own tension, ever-present and waiting to be called to act. Just… strain. Weight.
You take a careful step forwards.
The fallen Mimiga stops moving. You lower your gun, which had been trained on their head the entire time. Not quickly, and not in time to prevent Chevron from seeing. When they look at you, you can already hear the question that follows.
"Why?"
It's barely a question at all. You answer it regardless.
"They're the enemy. If we don't kill them, they aren't just going to let all this go. From the moment we began the mission, it was either us or them." you say. You take another step closer to Chevron. A human would be expected to fill those words with passion. A soldier might be asked the same. But a machine is free to hold only apathy. Not regret, but the two sound similar enough.
"And why are we here in the first place? Because these people are dangerous?" Chevron continues. This time, it's not a question. It's an accusation. That weight you had seen has coiled into readiness, but there is nothing for Chevron to do. Only waiting.
"Enough." you command. Some of your own tension leaks into the word, and Chevron flinches. You step back instinctively. You hadn't realized how close you'd gotten.
"…just search in that direction," you say, pointing a stiff arm in the direction you know will be covered last by the others. "and I'll continue my planned route. Confirm your kills next time. We don't want surprises."
Without looking to see what Chevron does, you start walking with your gun in hand.
Sometimes, the fighting and killing is easier.
\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\
Chevron's Insubordination
Nobody else saw what you did. It's up to you to decide who has to know.
[] Nobody.
It's not important anyways.
[] Commander Syn
At least they deserve to know.
[] The Chief Engineer
They might actually do something about it.
The village had been impressive when your team arrived. Even knowing that it was relatively small and undeveloped by modern standards, the simple wood and clay walls and thatched roofs came together to make something more. They filled the space of the valley, crowding around the edges against the pair of hills that enclosed it and stretching down to follow the stream that ran down its length. At one end of the valley, a small waterfall connected the river to the larger stream above. Buildings rose up larger close to the waterfall, still the same simple wood and earth. Short rock walls cut the settlement into layers extending out from that end of the valley, each one less occupied than the last. By the sixth division, there were only a scant few houses overlooking a wide stretch of farmland. A mix of grains, trees, and some sort of fruit-bearing vines all mingled in a delicate pattern over the field, forming blocks of color. Mimiga wandered the loosely-paved streets without a care.
Now, everything is ashes and ruins. The low evening sun burns just barely above the valley's edge, its harsh orange glow mirrored in the spreading fire that rises with every moment. Embers float through the streets and fields like fireflies. The air is filled with the sound of crackling fire and the groaning of burning wood caving in. Black smoke chokes the streets and curls around unmoving bodies. The fields behind you are a sea of ashes long since burned through. If you listen carefully, you think you can still hear Paren's cheering and cackling drifting over the scorched farmland.
She and Curly had struck directly, starting at the valley's unpopulated end, while you, Quote, and the Commander all snuck deeper into the colony to break up any potential response and search for any Demon Flowers. Chevron was stationed along one edge of the valley as a spotter. The plan went off flawlessly, with some small exceptions.
Everything was not supposed to be on fire, for one. Burning the Red Flowers here would be a disaster. The smoke is still potent enough to turn Mimiga who inhale it, if slowly. A colony of this size all turning rabid at once would be a disaster. You had killed the third rabid Mimiga spotted on-site minutes ago, so there were Red Flowers here. That too had not been part of the plan, but all three had been encountered alone and dispatched by whoever found them without issue. Not an issue of any consequence. What's more problematic is how it's limited your searching prospects. There are Red Flowers here; suspicion of such a thing is why your team was sent, and now it's been confirmed. But with the whole colony in flames, actually finding the flowers has become exponentially more difficult. Three doses may have been all they had, but if there were any more it would be reckless to keep searching for them through burning buildings. You'll have to comb through the ashes once the fire dies down. One way or another, the mission will still be accomplished. Again, not an issue of any consequence.
No, the issue is Chevron. Specifically, the fact that Chevron is standing in the town square just a block ahead of you. The fire has already churned through this part of the colony, leaving behind the smoldering skeletons of buildings standing as a forest of blackened scaffolding around the circle of rough cobbled streets. Bodies litter the square. The dead Mimiga are splotches of white against the burnt-out ground. Many of them are stained black, soot clinging to fur in sickly patches. Your attention slides over the scene and the bodies alike, unable to settle on anything other than your fellow soldier.
Chevron would look out of place standing here even if you didn't know where they are supposed to be. With their hair tied back in a loose ponytail and a plain grey jacket adorned with stickers and pins of all kinds, they don't look fit for a war zone. You know this impression, at least, to be false. Chevron is still one of you, and you are all killers. Even as the least physically able model, his aim is better than any of the rest of you except Commander Syn. No human could ever hope to match the flawless aim of a machine, but Chevron takes that a step further than the rest of you. It's why he was supposed to be positioned above the valley colony where he could freely target any fleeing Mimiga and keep the battlefield locked down. There is no good reason for him to be here, staring blankly at one of the dead bodies with his gun not in his hands.
The crunch of your feet over burnt timbers announces your presence. Chevron turns slowly, far too slowly, towards the sound. What would he have done if it had been a Mimiga instead of you? Drawing and firing still takes time even for a machine and Mimiga can move fast when they want to. Even when they're wounded.
"You're too unaware of your surroundings, Chevron." you chide. "What if I had been somebody attacking you? Such a slow reaction wouldn't be able to protect you."
"But you'd never try something like that, Bracket." Chevron says in reply. Completely missing what your actual point was. You catch the ghost of some other expression vanishing under a carefree smile as he turns towards you.
"You couldn't have known it was me." you point out. "A Mimiga could have killed you, being so inattentive."
"Ah, but I've got all of you looking out for me!" Chevron cheers, still completely missing the point. His weapon is still holstered, not in his hands.
"You do not." The words feel too heavy on your lips, but they need to be said. "You were not supposed to be here. None of us knew to expect your presence. It was chance alone that I found you." Chevron looks away from you, smile dimming. You dismiss the guilt that wells up inside you. Chevron has to learn these things. He should already know them by now in the first place. "And on that note, what are you doing here? You were supposed to stay at the cliffside."
"Well, Paren wasn't supposed to set the colony on fire, so plans clearly should've been adjusted." Chevron says. There's not a trace of accusation in his voice, just observation. As if it isn't Paren's explicit fault that everything caught fire.
Later, you'll look back on memories like this with fondness. Of when Chevron didn't fold to the slightest critique. His arguments were never well-reasoned or convincing, but the complete lack of pushback will never not feel wrong no matter if it's more efficient or not.
"This isn't about what Paren did, but I'm sure the Chief Engineer will have words with her after this." you say. Not that anything will come of it. Paren has always been like this, and burning down a settlement that was going to be destroyed anyways is hardly a step too far. Unless she becomes an actual liability, nobody will step in. "This is about your safety. What made you believe this was a good idea?"
You keep your voice level through effort alone. Chevron doesn't have to do the same. The feeble diversion he offers doesn't carry even a hint of irritation. "Shouldn't you be looking for the Red Flowers right now?"
"There's no point while the colony is burning like this. Either the flowers will burn, or the villagers have already used all the doses they had. If anything remains once the fire has died out, we'll find it. But as long as none of the Mimiga manage to escape the valley, there won't be an issue. And if you had stayed in position, we would have that under control as well." you explain. Chevron's posture worsens as your explanation drones on, like he's trying to hide behind something that isn't there. It's only once you finish that he snaps back up to his full height.
"Well…" Chevron rakes his fingers through his hair nervously. "I won't do it again? I was just…"
An emotion you can't place flickers across Chevron's face, but it's gone as quickly as it appears.
"Don't." you insist, shaking your head in disapproval. You fully expect Chevron to break his promise. It's just the way things go. It's really only the Commander and Quote who follow instructions more than half the time. For now, you simply have to correct course on this operation. "There's no time for you to get back in position. We'll split up and try to clear out more of the survivors."
Even you can't miss Chevron wince when you mention survivors. "Do we…"
"Yes," you say in anticipation to Chevron's question. The next words turn out heavier than you had wanted. A cold, lifeless weight that settles in your mouth as you speak. "It's necessary. We have our orders."
"Is that-"
Whatever protests Chevron has are drowned out. One of the fallen Mimiga, body stained black and red with soot and blood and missing patches of fur that were burned away, moves. It's barely more than a twitch. Just moving their arm and pushing themself up off the ground ever so slightly. The motion is slow and clumsy, like their body is being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer. They're so, so close to Chevron, enough that if they could reach out they could touch him. But they cannot reach out. Not with the few embers of strength that remain in their charred body. They raise their head, fur matted with blood and soot, and Chevron meets the dying Mimiga's gaze.
You can't see either of their faces. Chevron's normally-relaxed body is wrought with tension. Not the tension of a battle, wound back like a coiled spring ready for motion. Not your own tension, ever-present and waiting to be called to act. Just… strain. Weight.
You take a careful step forwards.
The fallen Mimiga stops moving. You lower your gun, which had been trained on their head the entire time. Not quickly, and not in time to prevent Chevron from seeing. When they look at you, you can already hear the question that follows.
"Why?"
It's barely a question at all. You answer it regardless.
"They're the enemy. If we don't kill them, they aren't just going to let all this go. From the moment we began the mission, it was either us or them." you say. You take another step closer to Chevron. A human would be expected to fill those words with passion. A soldier might be asked the same. But a machine is free to hold only apathy. Not regret, but the two sound similar enough.
"And why are we here in the first place? Because these people are dangerous?" Chevron continues. This time, it's not a question. It's an accusation. That weight you had seen has coiled into readiness, but there is nothing for Chevron to do. Only waiting.
"Enough." you command. Some of your own tension leaks into the word, and Chevron flinches. You step back instinctively. You hadn't realized how close you'd gotten.
"…just search in that direction," you say, pointing a stiff arm in the direction you know will be covered last by the others. "and I'll continue my planned route. Confirm your kills next time. We don't want surprises."
Without looking to see what Chevron does, you start walking with your gun in hand.
Sometimes, the fighting and killing is easier.
\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\
Chevron's Insubordination
Nobody else saw what you did. It's up to you to decide who has to know.
[] Nobody.
It's not important anyways.
[] Commander Syn
At least they deserve to know.
[] The Chief Engineer
They might actually do something about it.
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
My sincerest apologies that this and other works of mine have been late to update recently. I have been swamped with work and haven't had time to sit down and write in a while.
[X] Commander Syn
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
Ooh great! PTSD and war crimes! My favorites!
Is it a must to just limit it to the three votes? Or can we write anyone within reasonable limits?
[X] Commander Syn
Is it a must to just limit it to the three votes? Or can we write anyone within reasonable limits?
[X] Commander Syn
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Nobody.
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
You could tell somebody else if you wanted to, but in an official capacity only Syn and the Chief Engineer have any authority over Chevron. Whether you tell either of them is what's most likely to have consequences.
Red_Knight25
Unofficial Edgelord Advocate
[X] Nobody.
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Nobody needs to know!
File 2, Entry 4 - Vlaamse Reus
New
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
File 2, Entry 4 - Vlaamse Reus
"So what you are telling me," you begin, keeping your voice very carefully level, "is that you have detailed knowledge of both the Island's history and Mimiga history?"
"Well… yes?" Arthur doesn't look certain of his own answer. He coughs into his fist and summons back some of his earlier courage. "I have travelled across every corner of the Island in my search for knowledge. There is no better historian here than me."
It's perplexing. First he was acting nervous for some reason and now he's boasting?
Maybe it's a defense mechanism.
Yes, that makes sense. A defensive tic. If that boast is accurate, it is impressive. The Island is a dangerous place, some areas more so than others, and traversing it is not an easy task. Clearly Arthur hasn't been through every part of the Island, or he would know the way back from here, but that doesn't mean that his claim is an outright lie.
A test, then. To see how well his supposed knowledge holds up under scrutiny.
"Then this architecture… where else have you seen it? I have never witnessed something like this near a Mimiga colony." You have, however, seen it in other places. Places that Arthur will indicate towards if he's being truthful.
"First, there's-" the Mimiga warrior begins before pausing and narrowing his eyes. "Why should I tell you anything? We are not allies beyond the moment's convenience."
Ah. Right. You had disregarded the current situation for a moment in favour of more potentially important information. Arthur's refusal drags you back to the moment. A loose breeze whips against the two of you, standing on a small outcropping of rock below a rough stony ceiling and above the white expanse of the sky. It's just here, on the edge of what might as well be the whole world, that the two of you have cause to work together.
"Would an exchange of information be fair?" you offer.
Arthur's eyes remain narrowed. "What could you offer that I would want to know?"
An unfortunately good question. You cannot disclose too much information regarding Command. You have already given away your mission here, and in doing so lost that potential leverage. Beyond what is relevant to your work, you just don't have that much information you could share. Certainly none that Arthur would care about.
"I have knowledge of engineering." you say experimentally. Nothing comprehensive and mostly focused on how your model functions, but surely that would still be of some value. Mimiga colonies tend to be less technologically advanced. Being able to borrow more developed technology would be a significant boon. So that should be a fair trade.
Arthur's eyes widen, gleaming that weathered pink almost red, and you are certain that you have either made the best or worst possible decision.
"Really? What do you know?"
"Primarily robotics. It is a relevant field for me." you explain as if that isn't completely obvious. Arthur doesn't comment on your needless addition.
"So what about you?"
"I don't understand."
"That's my question." Arthur says hastily. "What's with you? You're not like any of the other machine soldiers I've seen. Tell me how you work, and I'll tell you about the old Mimiga kingdom."
The intensity in the swordsman's eyes matches your own moments earlier. Not confidence, not a threat, not focus, but excitement. The joy that comes with an unexpected prize. You are leaning towards the idea that this may have been a mistake.
The mission comes first, though, and Arthur's testimony could be invaluable. "The difference is simple. I am just a more advanced model than the others. The intent behind the design was to create something that could function without supervision or direction and make decisions as a human soldier would while still maintaining the advantages of a machine soldier." Not that that design philosophy was ever properly tested. You hadn't properly considered it before, but this is the first time you've been completely without some form of contact with Command. Even if they weren't immediately present or giving orders, everything was still decided by their direction. Everything before this mission.
If Arthur notices your flicker of distraction, he doesn't comment on it. "So you were intended for what? Leadership over the less intelligent models? Field command? Independent operations?"
"The last one. I've never been assigned alongside lesser models, though Command does produce and use them." you answer. Arthur's guesses are sharp for a man you doubt has ever been involved in the military. None of the Mimiga colonies you remember encountering had an active militia.
"Lesser models?" Arthur repeats.
"The lower-class machine soldiers. There are several variants, depending on who's making them, but they're all lesser. It's an adequate way to group them." you explain. Something in your voice must sound odd to Arthur, because he pushes further.
"And what makes them lesser?"
"They're just machines." you say. When the silence stretches on a moment too long after, you elaborate further. "They're completely mechanical in mind and body. Even the ones that can think for themselves are unable to act beyond their programming. They're designed as tools, not people."
"From where I'm standing, you don't seem too different. All you've been talking about this whole time is your mission. So what makes you not a 'tool', exactly?" Arthur snaps. Not angrily, just… quickly. Taunting, teasing even. Your fingers twitch and reach for a trigger that isn't there.
You do have a choice, technically. You could disobey your given orders. The Chief Engineer made sure of that during your line's creation, that you were real people with free will. But no, you cannot simply disobey an order. Not any more than Arthur can choose to hurl himself off the edge of the Island.
Something in your eyes must make that clear, because Arthur takes a step back and raises his hands. The stone rumbles lightly under his feet. "You've made your point. I'd love to ask more later, but that's enough for now. You wanted to learn about the Mimiga kingdom, right?"
You do. A colony large enough to be called a kingdom, somewhere in the Island? This is exactly what you were here to look for. It's a brilliant discovery to have made.
But it also sounds like a topic you will want to go in-depth on, and the whistling of the wind around you is as much a reminder as the grinding of rock against rock that this is not the time or place for such discussions.
"Later. We should be moving for now." you say. Arthur visibly recoils, mouth twisting as if to protest before silencing the words in his throat. What was that about?
Instead of whatever he was planning to say, Arthur's next words are "So where do we go from here? I don't see a clear path forward."
In lieu of a verbal answer, you take a few steps back. With your body in the state it's in, this is riskier than you'd like. You check the chamber of your machine gun, ensuring it's full as you walk. The damage doesn't mean you're less capable of feats of immense strength. Just that they require a little more time and measurement to keep under control.
You have the time, and you can take the measurement.
Arthur watches, Blade held slack in one hand as you run one, two, three steps forward and leap towards the small flooring build out from the rocky protrusion across the gap of open sky. As your leap approaches its apex you point the machine gun back at a downward-tilted angle. Your finger taps the trigger just barely, enough to send a flash of gunfire down that pushes you up. The feeling of falling, of weightlessness, is broken by the recoil seizing your body. Pressure ripples through your chassis beneath your skin, but you remain firm. Another pull, another shot, another burst of motion. Then you let yourself finish the arc of motion, feet just barely dragging along the pale stone of your landing point before you slam directly into the shaft of earth connecting the platform to the bottom of the Island. Despite the rattling of your inner mechanisms, it is a satisfactory landing. Better to overshoot than undershoot in this case.
From the other side of the gap, Arthur's eyes are wide and full of awe. You get the sense that in different circumstances, for somebody different, he might have started clapping. Instead, he rolls back his shoulders and shouts "Well, what am I supposed to do? Jump?"
"Jump." you repeat. That's what you did. Arthur's stronger than you and significantly lighter, it should be easy.
"Jump? Are you serious?" the Mimiga warrior protests. You tilt your head to the side.
"I don't understand what you aren't getting. Just jump to the platform."
"Just-" Arthur mumbles something you don't catch before looking up at you and scowling. "Fine, but if I fall it's your fault."
That doesn't make any sense, but you just nod so things can move on.
Following your steps, Arthur walks to the back edge of the first platform and takes a running leap. The motion is smooth and powerful, not like the erratic and jittering path you followed. The Blade still held in his hands sings against the open air, finding purchase smoothly in the ground as the Mimiga lands. You blink impassively at Arthur as he draws it from the earth.
"I told you. Just jump."
Arthur winds back and punches you in the shoulder. The motion is so quick, so abrupt that it's done by the time you've raised your gun. But there's no force in the blow. No hostility in Arthur's eyes. Just a flash of fear, then shame as he sees the gun barrel slowly lowering.
That was foolish of you. An overreaction, one that could have ruined things entirely. You holster your machine gun with more force than is strictly necessary.
"Sorry about that. I just thought-" And again, he doesn't finish. "Whatever. Now that we're on a precariously-positioned stone platform, what next?"
"If your assessment is correct, this structure was once part of a Mimiga complex. The Mimiga that lived there would have needed a path up to the rest of the Island from here. If we explore further, we should be able to find it." you explain just a little quicker than you intended. There is a great deal of uncertainty in that plan, especially given how long it may have been since the Mimiga held this place, but it is as good a starting direction as you have. Without waiting to see if Arthur is following, you cross the new platform and around the side of the rock where it is anchored to the Island above. Sure enough, there is another carved structure further out behind the first rock wall. This one is larger, not just an isolated platform but a full building hanging off the bottom of the Island. Its shape is boxy and covered in vines, any decoration weathered away by time, but it holds steadily in place all the same.
"There. That's where we go next."
Arthur's footsteps echo behind you. He stops to stare at the entrance to the Wind Fortress proper. He must be seeing something you don't, because it doesn't look especially impressive to you.
It's just a moment later you realize it's not the sight he's pausing at. It's a sound.
Specifically, the buzzing of an insect's wings.
Gaudi.
\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\
Gaudi Approaching
A mutual enemy.
[] Retreat
-[] How far back?
[] Ready for combat
[] Write in
"So what you are telling me," you begin, keeping your voice very carefully level, "is that you have detailed knowledge of both the Island's history and Mimiga history?"
"Well… yes?" Arthur doesn't look certain of his own answer. He coughs into his fist and summons back some of his earlier courage. "I have travelled across every corner of the Island in my search for knowledge. There is no better historian here than me."
It's perplexing. First he was acting nervous for some reason and now he's boasting?
Maybe it's a defense mechanism.
Yes, that makes sense. A defensive tic. If that boast is accurate, it is impressive. The Island is a dangerous place, some areas more so than others, and traversing it is not an easy task. Clearly Arthur hasn't been through every part of the Island, or he would know the way back from here, but that doesn't mean that his claim is an outright lie.
A test, then. To see how well his supposed knowledge holds up under scrutiny.
"Then this architecture… where else have you seen it? I have never witnessed something like this near a Mimiga colony." You have, however, seen it in other places. Places that Arthur will indicate towards if he's being truthful.
"First, there's-" the Mimiga warrior begins before pausing and narrowing his eyes. "Why should I tell you anything? We are not allies beyond the moment's convenience."
Ah. Right. You had disregarded the current situation for a moment in favour of more potentially important information. Arthur's refusal drags you back to the moment. A loose breeze whips against the two of you, standing on a small outcropping of rock below a rough stony ceiling and above the white expanse of the sky. It's just here, on the edge of what might as well be the whole world, that the two of you have cause to work together.
"Would an exchange of information be fair?" you offer.
Arthur's eyes remain narrowed. "What could you offer that I would want to know?"
An unfortunately good question. You cannot disclose too much information regarding Command. You have already given away your mission here, and in doing so lost that potential leverage. Beyond what is relevant to your work, you just don't have that much information you could share. Certainly none that Arthur would care about.
"I have knowledge of engineering." you say experimentally. Nothing comprehensive and mostly focused on how your model functions, but surely that would still be of some value. Mimiga colonies tend to be less technologically advanced. Being able to borrow more developed technology would be a significant boon. So that should be a fair trade.
Arthur's eyes widen, gleaming that weathered pink almost red, and you are certain that you have either made the best or worst possible decision.
"Really? What do you know?"
"Primarily robotics. It is a relevant field for me." you explain as if that isn't completely obvious. Arthur doesn't comment on your needless addition.
"So what about you?"
"I don't understand."
"That's my question." Arthur says hastily. "What's with you? You're not like any of the other machine soldiers I've seen. Tell me how you work, and I'll tell you about the old Mimiga kingdom."
The intensity in the swordsman's eyes matches your own moments earlier. Not confidence, not a threat, not focus, but excitement. The joy that comes with an unexpected prize. You are leaning towards the idea that this may have been a mistake.
The mission comes first, though, and Arthur's testimony could be invaluable. "The difference is simple. I am just a more advanced model than the others. The intent behind the design was to create something that could function without supervision or direction and make decisions as a human soldier would while still maintaining the advantages of a machine soldier." Not that that design philosophy was ever properly tested. You hadn't properly considered it before, but this is the first time you've been completely without some form of contact with Command. Even if they weren't immediately present or giving orders, everything was still decided by their direction. Everything before this mission.
If Arthur notices your flicker of distraction, he doesn't comment on it. "So you were intended for what? Leadership over the less intelligent models? Field command? Independent operations?"
"The last one. I've never been assigned alongside lesser models, though Command does produce and use them." you answer. Arthur's guesses are sharp for a man you doubt has ever been involved in the military. None of the Mimiga colonies you remember encountering had an active militia.
"Lesser models?" Arthur repeats.
"The lower-class machine soldiers. There are several variants, depending on who's making them, but they're all lesser. It's an adequate way to group them." you explain. Something in your voice must sound odd to Arthur, because he pushes further.
"And what makes them lesser?"
"They're just machines." you say. When the silence stretches on a moment too long after, you elaborate further. "They're completely mechanical in mind and body. Even the ones that can think for themselves are unable to act beyond their programming. They're designed as tools, not people."
"From where I'm standing, you don't seem too different. All you've been talking about this whole time is your mission. So what makes you not a 'tool', exactly?" Arthur snaps. Not angrily, just… quickly. Taunting, teasing even. Your fingers twitch and reach for a trigger that isn't there.
You do have a choice, technically. You could disobey your given orders. The Chief Engineer made sure of that during your line's creation, that you were real people with free will. But no, you cannot simply disobey an order. Not any more than Arthur can choose to hurl himself off the edge of the Island.
Something in your eyes must make that clear, because Arthur takes a step back and raises his hands. The stone rumbles lightly under his feet. "You've made your point. I'd love to ask more later, but that's enough for now. You wanted to learn about the Mimiga kingdom, right?"
You do. A colony large enough to be called a kingdom, somewhere in the Island? This is exactly what you were here to look for. It's a brilliant discovery to have made.
But it also sounds like a topic you will want to go in-depth on, and the whistling of the wind around you is as much a reminder as the grinding of rock against rock that this is not the time or place for such discussions.
"Later. We should be moving for now." you say. Arthur visibly recoils, mouth twisting as if to protest before silencing the words in his throat. What was that about?
Instead of whatever he was planning to say, Arthur's next words are "So where do we go from here? I don't see a clear path forward."
In lieu of a verbal answer, you take a few steps back. With your body in the state it's in, this is riskier than you'd like. You check the chamber of your machine gun, ensuring it's full as you walk. The damage doesn't mean you're less capable of feats of immense strength. Just that they require a little more time and measurement to keep under control.
You have the time, and you can take the measurement.
Arthur watches, Blade held slack in one hand as you run one, two, three steps forward and leap towards the small flooring build out from the rocky protrusion across the gap of open sky. As your leap approaches its apex you point the machine gun back at a downward-tilted angle. Your finger taps the trigger just barely, enough to send a flash of gunfire down that pushes you up. The feeling of falling, of weightlessness, is broken by the recoil seizing your body. Pressure ripples through your chassis beneath your skin, but you remain firm. Another pull, another shot, another burst of motion. Then you let yourself finish the arc of motion, feet just barely dragging along the pale stone of your landing point before you slam directly into the shaft of earth connecting the platform to the bottom of the Island. Despite the rattling of your inner mechanisms, it is a satisfactory landing. Better to overshoot than undershoot in this case.
From the other side of the gap, Arthur's eyes are wide and full of awe. You get the sense that in different circumstances, for somebody different, he might have started clapping. Instead, he rolls back his shoulders and shouts "Well, what am I supposed to do? Jump?"
"Jump." you repeat. That's what you did. Arthur's stronger than you and significantly lighter, it should be easy.
"Jump? Are you serious?" the Mimiga warrior protests. You tilt your head to the side.
"I don't understand what you aren't getting. Just jump to the platform."
"Just-" Arthur mumbles something you don't catch before looking up at you and scowling. "Fine, but if I fall it's your fault."
That doesn't make any sense, but you just nod so things can move on.
Following your steps, Arthur walks to the back edge of the first platform and takes a running leap. The motion is smooth and powerful, not like the erratic and jittering path you followed. The Blade still held in his hands sings against the open air, finding purchase smoothly in the ground as the Mimiga lands. You blink impassively at Arthur as he draws it from the earth.
"I told you. Just jump."
Arthur winds back and punches you in the shoulder. The motion is so quick, so abrupt that it's done by the time you've raised your gun. But there's no force in the blow. No hostility in Arthur's eyes. Just a flash of fear, then shame as he sees the gun barrel slowly lowering.
That was foolish of you. An overreaction, one that could have ruined things entirely. You holster your machine gun with more force than is strictly necessary.
"Sorry about that. I just thought-" And again, he doesn't finish. "Whatever. Now that we're on a precariously-positioned stone platform, what next?"
"If your assessment is correct, this structure was once part of a Mimiga complex. The Mimiga that lived there would have needed a path up to the rest of the Island from here. If we explore further, we should be able to find it." you explain just a little quicker than you intended. There is a great deal of uncertainty in that plan, especially given how long it may have been since the Mimiga held this place, but it is as good a starting direction as you have. Without waiting to see if Arthur is following, you cross the new platform and around the side of the rock where it is anchored to the Island above. Sure enough, there is another carved structure further out behind the first rock wall. This one is larger, not just an isolated platform but a full building hanging off the bottom of the Island. Its shape is boxy and covered in vines, any decoration weathered away by time, but it holds steadily in place all the same.
"There. That's where we go next."
Arthur's footsteps echo behind you. He stops to stare at the entrance to the Wind Fortress proper. He must be seeing something you don't, because it doesn't look especially impressive to you.
It's just a moment later you realize it's not the sight he's pausing at. It's a sound.
Specifically, the buzzing of an insect's wings.
Gaudi.
\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\
Gaudi Approaching
A mutual enemy.
[] Retreat
-[] How far back?
[] Ready for combat
[] Write in
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Ready for combat
Jumping over that gap twice more just sounds like more of a risk than fighting the wildlife.
Jumping over that gap twice more just sounds like more of a risk than fighting the wildlife.