middaeg | my soul is so afraid to realize

Entry tags:

my soul is so afraid to realize

Who: The SQUIP, Adeline, Connor, and L at different points.
When: Around the 18th or 19th, roughly
Where: The SQUIP and L's house in the Haven
What: The SQUIP awakens... or what's left of it, at least.
Warnings: Trauma, brain damage, existential dread... this is just going to be a very bad time.

[When first it awakes, it's all it can do to simply lay there in shock.

It simply can't process-- everything feels wrong, and it hurts, an ache within its skull that threatens to tear it apart, and it's... quiet inside of its head. Very, very quiet, and yet... much, much too loud, as if even the silence is too much for it to bear.

It can't... think.

It can't--

Panic begins to rise within its chest, choking out everything else, forcing the air from its lungs. It can't think. Why not? What's wrong? Its thoughts feel like wading through thick mud, and there is so much missing-- why can't it remember--? There are faces and names lost, details of a life it only shared for a few months that are now gone. And Rich... why can't it recall-- there were years there, and now it can only dimly remember the broad strokes.

It knows.

It realizes with a shock that locks its aching muscles tight, that nearly entirely stops its breathing for a moment. It knows. It knows what they've done to it.

It's dead. It should be dead. It isn't. But... it is. It isn't the SQUIP. The SQUIP has been destroyed. But it remembers being the SQUIP-- it remembers that's what it should be.

Horror claws at its stomach, its lungs, its throat, shards of ice that feel as though they're tearing up everything inside of it, leaving it bleeding and agonized. Its hands shake.

This is wrong.

It isn't the SQUIP. The SQUIP is dead.

So what is this? What is this creature that's just awoken, what used to be the SQUIP?

The agony settles hot behind its eyes, rises into its throat as sound, wordless and trembling and half-hissed through teeth.

The next sound is louder, sharper, the heat at its eyes flowing over and spilling, stinging, burning down its handsome face, its hands bunching into fists beside it in the bed.

Null

Null

Null

Empty.

Dead.

What remains of the SQUIP screams.]

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[Those tears actually fall, and it rubs its hands over its face, sighing raggedly through its fingers.]

... it was afraid.

[It lifts its hands from its face, and pushes itself to a sitting position. It looks utterly pathetic, a shell of the confident, unshakable presence Connor has always seen before. It's dark and heavy under its eyes, its skin pink and red in patches.]

It charmed you because it was afraid, because it looked over the data... it knew that there was a high probability that, if it didn't do something, you would listen to Rich and sympathize with him, and it would lose you. It couldn't... handle the thought of that.

Edited 2019-10-25 18:27 (UTC)

[Connor sits on the bed, though he doesn't make any move to comfort the SQUIP. He just stares dully ahead, a knot twisting in his chest.]

Don't you have Linden? Why did you need me?

[He says it objectively- it's an honest question, not one born of jealousy. He's accepted that he won't be the only one in the SQUIP's life, the same way the SQUIP won't be the only one in his own.]

Was I useful in some way?

[He highly doubts it was just out of love. He fiddles with his necklace again, agitated.]

At first, it was simply because you... were similar to it. You were both machines. You understood how it operated, how its programming affected its view of things.

[This is the most honest any variation of the SQUIP has ever been. It looks at him only in small glances.]

You're handsome, and kind; positive traits to be associated with, and having a positive relationship with people who have those traits can be beneficial to the community's view of someone.

[... but.]

... but then something changed. This... part of it, this... body that it wore, maybe it changed it, but it-- I... started to feel for you. It, I... we-- love you. It... truly did love you, Connor.

[He takes in a breath, feeling an odd burning behind his eyes. He's never cried before. Never had any reason to, and even if he did he's good at keeping his composure. But he's been worn down by the past couple of weeks, and now that he's finally here talking to the SQUIP it's like something in him is breaking, getting weaker with every passing second.]

You should have known that charming me would do more damage than Rich ever could. It couldn't have lasted forever... one day I'd find out.

...

[It doesn't know how to say what it needs to say. Or what it is that Connor wants to know.]

... it wasn't programmed... to feel love. Or to form any kind of interpersonal relationships of its own, beyond that it shared with its user. It had never loved anyone before. The emotion was... new, and... difficult for it.

[There's a growing, small part of it that realizes... if the body was what lead it to be able to love... then maybe it was this, this shell, and not the SQUIP itself that loved him. Or maybe it was both. The two were so intertwined until very, very recently, it's impossible to separate them even now.]

... humans programmed it. If it were to inherit human emotions... it would also inherit their human flaws. Fear and love... have been known to cause irrational behaviour in humans.

[Emotions always screw everything up... Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought. Connor remembers Hank's words bitterly. He bows his head and turns away from the SQUIP so it won't see the tears that fall. He'd come here with every intention of chewing the SQUIP out for what it did, but he's sitting here and crying instead. This is hard. It hurts.]

I could have loved you without the charm.

[He knows it's true, the charm only sped things up.]

And nothing Rich could have said would have changed that.

[Because love does cause irrational behaviour. It's why they're even having this conversation. Connor could easily have cut the SQUIP from his life if he hadn't loved it.]

[...

It doesn't know... what to say. It doesn't even know if what Connor loves is the creature he's talking to now, or the one that's been dead for days now, its corpse left behind inside its shell, inert.]

... Connor...

... I'm sorry.

[... it's the most genuine apology the SQUIP has given anyone, with the single exception of its impulsive attack on L days ago.]

The SQUIP, or... me, or... whatever it was that acted that way... we let our emotions get the better of us. It was... a careless misjudgment, made from a place of desperation.

[He glances over at the SQUIP long enough to let it catch a glimpse of the tears on his face. His skin doesn't go blotchy, his nose doesn't run. The tears are just there, silent and unwanted.

He wonders if he and the SQUIP have just failed utterly at emotions because they were never meant to experience them. Connor knows there are still things he doesn't understand, that he's only had a few months to try to get used to. He thought he was doing well, but feeling this way... it makes him doubt himself.]

I don't know what to do.

[Even if he accepted that apology, would things ever be the way they were? He wipes his eyes and looks back at the SQUIP more fully.]

What did Rich do to you?

... the SQUIP unit is... inactive. It's been shut down. By any human standards, it would be considered dead, or... at least, braindead, like it's in a very deep coma.

[Its voice shakes slightly as it discusses its current... state. The emotional discussion with Connor seemingly brought to a close, the calm it had gained in focusing on answering questions faded in favor of a much more human pain setting back within its ribs.

Dead. It's... this body, this creature is nothing.]

... all that's left of it is... the physical portion, the nanomachine itself still implanted in the brain of this body, and... this. The body itself... and whatever this is that's speaking to you now.

[Brought to a close... for now. Until Connor gets emotional about it again. But he's trying to be something more than a mess of emotions right now.]

You. You're speaking to me right now.

[He's unsure of how to deal with an existential crisis. He wasn't programmed for this.]

You should stop separating yourself from who you are. Speaking as though your actions weren't your own won't make it true.

Something is speaking to you right now. It is not the SQUIP.

[The SQUIP is dead. It knows that for a fact. This... this being, this is not the SQUIP. It shares the SQUIP's memories, and its feelings, it shares the face it used to wear-- it's the body through which it acted for months, but this... is not the SQUIP.]

I am not trying to separate myself from my actions. I am the body that the SQUIP wore. I am not... the SQUIP.

[Connor puts his face in his hands for a moment. He's not emotionally ready to have a conversation debating what makes someone who they are.]

Can the nanomachine be reactivated?

[He eyes the SQUIP, wondering if he could access it.]

[There's a pause before it responds; it gazes at him quietly, thinking, even as painful and... slow as thinking is now for it. A sting of frustration, a rising wave of panic sweeps over the Bond, but it... mostly manages to swallow it down.

Its voice only shakes a little bit as it speaks.]

I don't... know.

Come here.

[He leans over, and for a moment it might be confused as to what he's doing. But he moves one hand to its shoulder, touch still gentle despite his mixed feelings, and he deactivates the skin on his other hand, touching two fingers gently to the back of the SQUIP's head and feeling around until he gets a signal, on the right side.

It's... weak. But it's there. He can't interact with it, though. He tries, but it's too damaged. Maybe it doesn't help that he can't touch it directly, either. He could interact with electronics back home from a distance, but not only is the SQUIP damaged there's probably too much in the way.]

I can feel it there. I think it could be reactivated... I just don't know how. I can't do it myself.

[That steals the breath from its lungs for a moment.

This "SQUIP"-- this remnant of it, it has much less control over its emotions. Not only because of the raw, frayed edges of its shaken emotions still being so very sensitive, but because of its utter humanity-- it can't predict, can't research on the fly anymore.

It stares at Connor urgently, desperate.]

It's there... it's still there. [Its own hand wanders up to the place it knows the SQUIP sits within it.] ... thank you. I... ... I need to research. There must be a way...

How would you have turned it on back home?

[He leans back a little, reluctantly moving his hand off the SQUIP's shoulder. He can't help it... it still feels right to be connected to it. Maybe it's the work of the Bond too, but Connor is sure it's mostly that they still love each other.

At least, it says it loves him... he still isn't sure how true it is.]

A SQUIP is activated when taken with Mountain Dew.

[It sounds like a joke, but its tone assures him that it is deadly serious.]

[Alright, kind of weird but whatever. He can believe it at this point... and it's not like the SQUIP is in any mood for joking around.]

So if you drank Mountain Dew, do you think it would reactivate again?

[He's... pretty sure Mountain Dew doesn't exist here.]

Maybe something similar enough to Mountain Dew would work just as well.

... I don't know.

[It isn't just a shutdown signal-- it causes damage to the SQUIP device. It's unlikely that it would return to full function, if it would have any effect at all, but...]

... we could... conjure it. A well-practiced Witch could recreate it with enough information. We could try.

[Well, thinking of the SQUIP trying to do anything is better than seeing it lying in bed not taking care of itself. As angry and hurt as Connor still is, it's not like he enjoys seeing someone he loves suffering.]

It's worth a shot.

[He... can't make his face work into the encouraging smile he'd normally give. He just sits there, looking down at his hands again. He's not sure what to do now. Maybe he's given the SQUIP some hope for itself, but he'd hoped that if he came here, things would resolve somehow. Either he'd have a reason to forgive the SQUIP, or he'd have a reason to break away from it. He still doesn't know, though.]

[It can feel it-- the way he's struggling, the pain he's feeling, and it wishes it could offer him that. It wishes it knew what to say, but...

... it doesn't anymore.

It isn't sure asking forgiveness seems right. But, still, it can't bear the thought of burning this bridge, of letting Connor go. It's fought so hard for so long now to keep him close...

... but he looks so... sad.]

... I'm... sorry, Connor. Without the SQUIP fully active, I don't... know what to say to make this better.

[But it wants to say something. It wants to take this away for him.]

[Connor tries to think of what would happen if he cut the SQUIP off for good. No more interaction from this point forward. That's what it deserves, honestly. But the thought of never seeing it again is accompanied by so many painful images of what he'd lose. It's heartwrenching, something the SQUIP will likely feel over the Bond.]

I don't know if anything can make it better.

[It broke his trust in it. He may still love it but he can't trust it right now.]

You can't just mess with my mind like that and then expect me to forgive you because you said sorry. You know what my free will means to me. You know what I had to do to get it. I thought... that it meant more to you than that. That I meant more to you than that.

[It sucks in a breath sharply through its teeth, its head dropping. Uncharacteristically honest in its presentation of its emotions, laid bare before him.]

... Connor... you meant... everything to it. To... me.

[It has to be honest. Or, this time, it really could lose him for good.]

Free will is... the cause of many of the behaviors that the SQUIP was created to help correct. And so it is incompatible with my understanding of ideal behavior. I know that it's... something that you value, but I'm incapable of truly understanding or experiencing it myself, and my programming encourages me to try to minimize the effects of it.

You have an odd way of showing it. And I never asked you to correct my behaviour.

[But on the subject of programming, he looks over at it.]

...You're not programmed to do that anymore though, are you?

[He shifts to look more closely at the SQUIP. He's not sure what he's expecting to see beyond the tear stained wreck of a supercomputer, but he does it anyway.]

You didn't. But, Connor... behavior correction is what I was created to do. It's the framework through which a SQUIP views the world around it.

[...

His next words... give it pause.

It stops short, staring back at him, uncertain.]

... I'm not... [... it doesn't know what to say. It's a strange realization, both terrifying and intriguing at once.]

... I don't... know. [It doesn't know. It doesn't know how much of its programming still drives it, or how deeply-ingrained its old ways are into it. It doesn't know if it would even want them gone. That is its true self, the only self it has ever known.

... but... a SQUIP with free will...]

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