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Blue Monday (IC)


Avenger Assembled

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Horrorshow

 

Are they... flirting?  Wait, no, Eira's all in on Pan... isn't she?

 

Davyd's head tilted slightly, but he gave no voice to the thoughts running through his mind.  "'The greatest democracy'?," he repeated, mirroring her tone (though not her voice) exactly. "I think I've heard that one before."

 

Maybe that's just how Uploads talk?  There aren't many of them, I'd imagine, and they'd have at least one element in common, which no one else shared.  That'd certainly forge some type of... intimacy.

 

He alternated between gazing outside at the scenery they passed and admiring the decor inside the limo.  "I have to admit, I was expecting more of an Art Deco look to things.  This is quite nice, though."  A few questions were bubbling up in his mind, but he kept them to himself.

 

And then Kay dropped her tiny bomb.  "Oh!  I had not dared hope to be able to speak with Talos himself!  I'm sure he and the other ru-," he interrupted himself, "apologies, he and the other leaders, are quite busy, but I am certain there is much you can share with us.  Your artwork, for example -- are those personal projects, or has the government commissioned some pieces from you?"

 

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"I have performed many artistic works for the inhabitants of Rurland; some of them for defense purposes. Many of the holographic security measures around the nation were originally built by me; but we need not talk of such things now. This is a visit about peace and international diplomacy." She smirked, bearing a distinct resemblance to Eira.

 

"As for our local artistic style, we have rejected many of the old artistic modes as outmoded. While we respect the work of our organic ancestors, we need not be shackled by organic artistic tastes," said Kay easily - earning a sharp look from Eira.

 

Sitting opposite each other inside the driverless limo's backseat, the two Uploads stared at each other fixedly for a moment, then a longer one. Just when Davyd was starting to wonder if this would resemble a telepathic argument, he realized that Ping the spider-bot had crawled off Eira and was now scuttling across his leg and onto his chest. When the spider could tell it had his attention, it made a distinct drumming motion with its front limbs, then repeated it - then scuttled further up Davyd's body and directly towards his left ear!  

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Horrorshow

 

'For defense purposes'?  What kind of- oh, right, holograms, so maybe holographic decoys?  Concealing facilities from sight... and maybe other senses?  Could they fool radar?  Infrared or ultraviolet?  Nothing may be as it seems... no, no, keep an open mind, don't assume the worse.

 

Davyd nodded at Kay, "I suppose it is natural that any new country would retain at least some elements from their countries of origin," he cocked his head slightly, "entities of origin? -- while forging the new elements that are unique to their... hrm."  He shook his head, "I apologize, I realize that much of what we will be discussing could apply as much to Synthetic beings as a whole as it does to Rurland in particular, so I am trying to be careful with my language."

 

He felt, then saw, Ping crawling across his leg and chest.  He smiled at the little spider-bot, and tilted his head to give it easier access to his left ear.  Not sure what Eira's planning, but it should be interesting.

 

"That's something my viewers would be interested in knowing," he continued, "does Rurland have an official or national language?  My understanding is that Rurland is open to Synthetics from all over the world, who were developed -- or who developed themselves -- using a variety of machine codes and human-derived linguistics.  Is Rurland working on some sort of unique constructed language for its people?  An 'Esperanto 2.0,' as it were?"

 

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Taking Davyd's look for assent, PNG simply crawled up onto his shoulder and directly into his left ear. Though the robot wasn't very large and had the capacity to shrink itself to a particularly tiny size, it was still perhaps a distracting moment. Eira covered for the shapeshifter by extending her wrists towards Kay's; extending dataspikes that seemed to naturally entangle themselves around Kay's chitinous additional limbs. It was a decidedly odd sight, especially when they both vocalized a faint, almost inaudible sound when the connection was made. 

 

Inside Davyd's head, the spider-bot, who was small enough to be completely covered by a little judicious shapeshifting, clambered right into his ear and began beating a message against his eardrum: VERY UNUSUAL. KAY IS FAN OF MONDRIAN AND BEEVER. DID NOT REJECT HUMAN ART BEFORE. 

 

The two Uploads did not offer any answers to Davyd's question until the car reached its destination, a half-sphere buried deep in the Ukranian soil that looked vaguely as if a 70s futurist had designed a hobbit's house. "We have many ways to communicate," said Kay, a low, warm smile in her synthesized voice. "The important thing is that all voices are the same, no?" Outside, the natural seemingness didn't quite last. Though the grass was still green, the trees hereabouts had been cut down flat, giving the area the impression of an almost flat, featureless plain on either side until you reached what might be the next property over - a concrete cinderblock building with flashing neon lights out front that read simply PARTY. 

 

 

 

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Horrorshow

 

I could probably rearrange some things inside my head to make a face on my left eardrum, Davyd thought, so I could speak directly to PNG... no, no, that might be a bit too weird.  Besides, I don't want to risk getting my wires crossed and say a quiet part out loud.

 

He scowled slightly at the message Eira relayed, but otherwise managed to maintain an impartial appearance.  Well, mostly impartial.  "Are they?," he replied.  "I'm sure you'd say that Rurland's inhabitants don't share the same bigotries and prejudices that plague us organics, and that may even be true, to an extent.  But are you telling me that Rurland's folk have no prejudices?  Can you honestly say that, for example, Synthetics with obsolete sensors, or glitching communicators, are treated the same as those with the most cutting-edge ones?  Or that Uploads such as yourselves," he gestured towards Eira and Kay, "who are directly based on human minds, who experienced firsthand such 'organic frailties' as overwhelming emotions, and hunger, and fatigue, and disease, are treated the same as a Synthetics who were developed, ah, ex nihilo, who never experienced such things?"

 

He remained focused on Kay, but knew Eira had to be having some reaction to that.  We can talk later.  I hope.

 

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