re_alignment_logs | Blast From the Past [Closed]

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Blast From the Past [Closed]

WHO: Deckard, Kagerou
WHERE: Library, Alpha Trion's temple
WHEN: Following this thread
WHAT: Getting some answers - on a possibly crooked cop and...well...really, almost too many things to list - ~~WHERE THE HELL DOES HE START!?~~
WARNINGS: None that I know of, will update if needed

Deckard pointed himself toward the coordinates that Kagerou had given him. Getting there proved far more . . . challenging . . . than he'd anticipated, navigating the broken landscape of this alien land, noting but for now ignoring anything and everything he saw around him on the way. He drove when he could and jogged on foot when he couldn't, trying to be careful of his gas consumption either way. He'd have to find a gas station or some source of fuel, and fairly soon . . . but that would have to wait for the moment. There were other things more pressing on his mind and heart right now. Never mind the foreign planet he'd found himself on.

Kagerou was alive! Well . . . as "alive" as any of their kind got, but . . . that wasn't the point. He was here - functional, sentient, in retention of his original memories, his own mind, his self . . . everything he should have been all along. That had never not bothered him since that day - the day he realized that he and the Build Team were not the only ones of their kind, that there were other sentient robots out there . . . that Saejima and Toudou weren't always forthcoming with what Deckard would have thought they should be privy to (but even to them sometimes, he and his team were "just robots") . . . that reformatting an A.I., especially a Super A,I., was still A. Thing., even after doing it to him, even after learning the truth about him and what a reformat did to his kind. Dammit, it wasn't like wiping someone's computer workstation before giving it to someone else after a person retired. It was essentially an execution of a person, robbing them of their heart!

Deckard had survived a reformat. Twice. He still had no idea how. He wished he did so he could share it with the others, in case they ever faced being subjected to one (Azuma had certainly threatened them all enough times). He'd apparently just been lucky. It was a terrifying and painful experience he wouldn't wish on anyone.

Now he was on his way to meet Kagerou - the whole Kagerou, not reformatted, not reprogrammed, not crushed at the bottom of the ocean. It didn't surprise him that he was glad, but it did surprise him just how much it meant to him. ~~He wished Shadowmaru could be here for this.~~

And Kagerou had been here for some time, wherever the hell - whatever the hell - "here" truly was. Hopefully he'd be able to help fill in holes in his understanding . . . and apparently his memory.

And there was more still. There was a police force here. And there was a sentient robot on it that his team didn't trust. Big, bright-red warning flags. The last crooked cop he'd dealt with had been Gunmax's former partner, the one who'd been supposed to work with him like Yuuta did Deckard and the others. The man had betrayed and hurt Gunmax unforgivably (and that before returning to get his so-called revenge). Police figures were supposed to be role models, unquestionably trust-worthy. People depended on them! Betrayal by a policeman was substantially worse than by an average citizen.

Deckard shook his head as he stepped up to the impressive temple the coordinates had led him to. He found more of those Acolytes robots and got directions to the library. As he approached, he reminded himself to be impartial - he didn't know the facts yet, he should decide things for himself, observe and experience before forming an opinion.

He rapped his knuckles on the doorway, knocking for attention, as he stepped in and started looking around for Kagerou.

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He was trying not to think. Maybe that was cowardly of him. Part of him didn't care. Things were... difficult enough these days, without dwelling on the meanings behind reappearances. On what might have been. He really hadn't thought about Gunmax lately. So much the better. But the reappearance of Deckerd made ignoring the absence of the other BP impossible.

So it was understandable, really, that his thoughts, his memories, strayed in that direction.

What would you say now, you loud fool, if you knew he'd returned...?

That thought came before he can really stop it. He bowed his head, memories of obnoxious retorts in that terrible accent springing up. Try as he might, he couldn't deny he'd... come to rely on that BP unit. A source of irritation. A reminder that he could feel such a thing. And he missed it, terribly.

The realization of how long he'd been here, in this world, brought with it all sorts of other thoughts, other memories. The Brave Police leader had been here before he had. And now... returned. What did that mean, if anything?

There weren't any answers in the library. Just books. But it was as quiet and safe a place as any. No one ever came looking here, save Trion. And Trion wouldn't be one to go running to Prowl.

Look at him now, he thought, tracing fingertips over the bookshelves. Spying on another robot, part of a team, serving under a powerful being, passing on his knowledge to a human girl, making his own damn choices... What would have been said, if he was seen now...?

Grow up, Kagebird.

Oh. But I have. Haven't I.

The knock snaps him out of his thoughts. He hadn't turned his stealth systems on, and so stood clearly visible, in front of a window, casting a long shadow down the row of shelves. He looked up, blinking, to the doorway.

"Yes?"

And there he was. In the flesh (so to speak, of course). By the time he'd gotten here, his mind had turned deeply enough to the ~~case~~ issue at hand, of the questionable police robot, that the sight of Kagerou actually shocked him a little, stopping him in his tracks. The memory of the last time they'd faced one another - that he could remember - flashed across his Super A.I., unbidden.

'Brave Police, you will never understand how I feel. My name is Kagerou. I will not die, nor will I be captured.'

That had been months ago. A long time in Deckard's reckoning, as his entire conscious existence didn't even span as much as a year and a half yet, but he realized it wasn't "that long" to most people. And it occurred to him to wonder how long ago that had been for Kagerou now.

He's had this conversation a million times in his head over the past six months, what he would say if he ever got the chance to talk to Kagerou again, the first Super A.I. - the first of his kind - that they had ever lost. Every Super A.I. in existence, whether built as part of the Brave Police Project or outside of it, was programmed on data ultimately derived from his, so he felt inextricably responsible. Now that he was here, though, it all sounded trite and too far in the past to bother bringing up now. If Kagerou was anything like Shadowmaru - and how could he not be? - it was best to stick to the topics at hand and let the past remain so.

All of it flashed through his mind in a matter of milliseconds. That resolved, he straightened, relaxing his stance. All business, he offered a nod of greeting as he stepped farther into the library, closing the door behind him. "Kagerou. It's really good to see you well." Well, he couldn't let things go completely unacknowledged. "You said you felt this place is safe?"

Edited 2013-10-25 06:56 (UTC)

It was... strange. Very strange. He felt as if the roles should be reversed. As if he should be the one seeking information, seeking assistance, instead of the other way around. As it had been when he first arrived, and the Brave Police leader met him.

... That was over a year ago, now, wasn't it? He'd lived longer in this place than in the city back there. Where did that place him, among their ranks? Because he was, now, part of their ranks -- the others had made it perfectly clear.

Those thoughts cleared out reasonably quickly, though.

He nodded, glancing away briefly. Best not to touch on the... "well" part. Mostly because he didn't want to focus on it any more than he had to. Even now.

So long as Kay never found out.

"Trion doesn't mind us here," he said. He folded his arms, one hand casually covering the intricate glyph on his arm. Maybe he could admit to the others -- to Power Joe and McCrane -- what he'd done, but they'd been through more together. "He's never minded me, in here... And Prowl has no reason to come."

Not that he knew of, anyway.

Something was bothering the other robot. Deckard couldn't begin to imagine what - he couldn't begin to narrow down from the many possibilities that sprang to mind. He wanted to ask...but...

The mention of Prowl, though, kept him on track. He could try to ascertain anything else later.

"Prowl, yes. He's the one you warned me about. What can you tell me about him? What's the situation here?"

If he was truly stuck here like everything he'd learned so far indicated, he needed to get himself up to speed - on pretty much everything - as quickly as possible.

His wings flicked. His attention shifted, turning to the bookshelf beside him. It was difficult to explain, just why he didn't trust Prowl. Beyond believing Power Joe, beyond hearing McCrane's concerns...

"He leads the police force here," he said, finally. His voice never wavered, maintaining the quiet, firm tone it usually was when he spoke. The calm mask over any other fears. "I don't know how much McCrane does any longer... the last time the police were used, Prowl oversaw it."

His head bowed, at that. He didn't really want to recall the fight with Tarn. With Kaon. Even though he'd finally felt as if he were part of something, the cost had been almost too much. "He doesn't care. Not about any of us. Not about what we were made to do, not what we want..." He shook his head. "He's cold. He has no heart, for a robot with a soul."

A discontent soldier, from what he'd heard. One who might lead them down the path of darker things. Things like Tarn. Like...

... Overlord.

He shuddered. He couldn't help it. His frame shivered and jerked, before he forced the memory away.

"Power Joe doesn't trust him. McCrane... seems afraid of him, in a way. I dislike him." Another shrug. "Blurr, one of the others on the police force, agrees with me. It's more than enough reason to be suspicious."

At least, in his mind.

It's enough for Deckard too.

So he's been pulled through some kind of dimensional anomaly, dumped on an alien world full of "living" sentient robots, a world he's been on before but (temporarily!) has no memories of, there's a police force here, and it's headed by what sounds like a robot Azuma. Maybe worse.

Fantastic.

Deckard watched Kagerou closely, reading his body language, the shift of his stance, the flick of his wings. He caught that shudder, and it made him scowl. Damn . . . what the hell's been going on here to get a reaction like that?

Power Joe was a really easy-going kind of guy. It took a lot for him to not trust someone outright. And McCrane . . . the Brave Police weren't without fear, far from - he'd certainly been scared by things plenty of times, the key was to just keep going in spite of it - but for an individual, and not an outright maniacal, violent criminal in a powerful killer robot vehicle, to have affected quiet, level-headed McCrane enough for someone to notice?

Deckard crossed his arms. "I agree. Is there anything being done to deal with this guy?"

"Deal with him?" he asked, finally turning to look at Deckerd again.

He wished it were so simple.

"He hasn't done anything wrong," he admitted, after an awkward moment of silence. "The others just... don't trust him. And I trust them."

Which was why he'd gotten into this -- that and the conversation with McCrane. He hadn't particularly liked Prowl before then, but those words sealed it. And he'd gotten into following Prowl, watching him. When he could observe the patrol car, there hadn't been anything terribly of note about it. Nothing incriminating. Maybe he should speak with Rewind -- his smaller friend seemed to dislike Prowl more than all of them. Maybe the Autobot could tell him something more.

Except... no one was supposed to know what he was doing. Not the other BPs. Not Kay... no one. Blurr was the only other who knew.

"We're waiting," he said, finally. "Just being guarded. That's all."

He'd not been consciously aware of it, but Deckard was used to simple. Someone on his radar as a threat - someone Saejima or anyone else had brought to the Brave Police's attention - was someone who needed to be dealt with. In a word, because they had done something. Kagerou's comment made him realize that wasn't always the case - something he knew, of course, just wasn't used to thinking about.

"I see." He thought for a moment. What now?

It occurred to him that he . . . he didn't know. And there wasn't anyone to tell him. He led his team (and he liked to think he did a decent job of it?), but there'd always been people to lead him. He'd been meant to work with a handler from the start. Yuuta had always been there. And Saejima. Even Toudou. Now...?

He shifted, uncertain for a moment. Okay, so . . . what had been presented to him so far? He needed a modification to his engine. He needed to find the other Brave Police. He needed to find a way to recover his lost memories, or failing that, find some other way of getting himself up to speed on pretty much everything as quickly as possible.

Nodding to himself, he brought his gaze up to Kagerou once more. "What can I do to assist? Or what . . . what else is there that needs doing?" Usually it was others turning to him, but he was fully aware that now, he was the "new recruit", so to speak - potentially the low man on the ladder, the one with the least experience and understanding. He had no problem deferring direction to another at least for now.

It wasn't an ideal situation, and he knew it. But there wasn't much else to be done, if anything. He didn't want to tell Kay -- to possibly endanger her, as well. There really wasn't anyone to go to for advice. Short of Blurr, who'd already suggested this in the first place.

"Fix your engine," he said, quietly. Honestly, he didn't want any of the others involved. If anything happened to them... "I don't know what else to say, beyond that. Join the police, if you wish."

He shook his head slightly.

"Your choice."

Join the police...

That, as far as Deckard was concerned, was a given.

Or not...?

'Your choice.'

He'd never really had a choice before. Everything had always been laid out for him. For better or worse. Usually better, or at least neutral . . . though there were times - being sent after Kagerou, not being told about important things until they "needed to know", the unfair threats to Gunmax (and to him merely by association), potentially getting shoved into three-inch-tall bodies as a "back-up system" . . .

. . . the Gunpulators . . .

It was his turn to shiver, at least a little. That whole incident smacked of wrong on so many levels. Frankly? He didn't want to think about it.

He huffed, nodding. "Right. Engine's my next order of business. And . . . I'm sure I'll join the police force." It was all he knew, really. It was his whole purpose for ever being built. "I'll get in contact with McCrane and the others too." Another given. No question on that one.

He looked at Kagerou. "If there is anything - anything - else I can do, will you contact me?"

"The engine is the most important thing," he said, quiet and firm. Death wasn't something he'd wish on the Brave Police. Not now. And not here, where... it seemed memory loss came with death.

Memory loss was almost worse.

He nodded, once more turning his attention to the shelf, apparently lost in thought. If Deckerd wanted to join the police force, he wasn't in any position to tell the patrol car otherwise. He'd done the same, after all.

"If that's what you want, yes."

Deckard studied Kagerou again, wondering what's bothering him.

"It's what I was designed and built for. I don't know that there's anything else for me to do." He cocked his head a little. "But you don't think I should." The comment was mild, without challenge. It was a guess, an observation . . . an invitation to speak up and share what's on his mind. If he's willing.

Edited 2013-10-28 06:08 (UTC)

"I don't think it's my place to make the choices for someone else."

Despite what he said, there was no anger or rebuke in it. Just simple fact. His own life had only recently come under his control. Who was he to take that control, take that choice, from someone else?

"There was an Autobot here called Rung," he said, after a silence. "He tried to help me. Tried to guide me when I didn't know where to go." His wings flicked, folded down. "He always said to do what I felt was right."

And here he was. Warning someone against Prowl, and passing along the therapist's words.

"Do that."

Okay, so he wasn't the best at inspirational speeches, but points for trying.

((ooc: -wrong comment of Deckard's, sorry!))

Deckard definitely appreciated the ninja-bot's words, taking them to heart.

He had no idea what an "auto-bot" is, but he'd ask another time. He nodded. "Wise words. Giving advice and offering your opinion aren't the same as making the decision for me, though. I can only make the best decision for myself that I can with all the information available to me. But . . . " He nodded again. "I'll get a hold of McCrane and Power Joe. And Drill Boy. See what they have to say too. But . . . to address the earlier, I'd like that, yes. If you'd call me."

Another thought occurred to him, and he tilted his head a bit. "Do you know a robot named Blurr?" Only because Blurr had seemed to know him. From when he was here before. Apparently, they'd been friends.

It really bothered him that he couldn't remember it.

Call him.

To be honest, part of him debated getting close again. No one who came back ever remembered. If they just vanished again... was it worth all the struggle? All the effort of making memories, if you were the only one to keep them?

He bowed his head, opting to nod, instead of speaking.

"Yes," he said, finally. "He's been here since before I arrived."

A long time, now that he thought back on it. His sole green optic flicked in the other BP's direction. "Why?"

It was Deckard's turn to look away, voice quiet when he spoke. "He contacted me a little while ago too, just shortly after you did. He was . . . so happy to see me. Apparently we were friends before."

His jaw tightened . . . and then his fists . . . and he pounded one against the side of a bookcase.

"Dammit! I can't remember! But I will. I've done it twice before . . . I can do it again." He realized Kagerou wouldn't know. The first time, he'd not been built yet, and the second... "My memories . . . they've been stolen before. But I recovered them. It is possible to recover memories. It's possible to recover from a whole reformat even. I've done it. Twice. I don't know how, but I did."

And he'd be damned if he didn't somehow manage to do it again.

It didn't take him as off-guard as it could have. Power Joe had mentioned something along those lines, after the Tarn incident. Maybe it was meant to give him some kind of hope, but... well.

Getting your hopes up -- this place had taught him what a foolish thing that was.

"No one ever remembers," he says, very quietly. Very firmly. "Not even those whose memories are more than data. Not even the living robots are immune..."

Perceptor.

There wasn't any rebuke in his words. It would be nice to think they could overcome things like reformats, whenever they wanted. But -- this was different. Wasn't it?

"Don't take it so hard."

And yes, he knows how much of a hypocrite that makes him sound. Even he looked a little disgusted. He'd meant it as a reassurance, but... well. How did you even reassure someone in this situation?

Deckard is still a moment longer, wrestling down an irrational fear - fear that he won't regain his memories and what else that might portend. The last comment makes him look up sharply. He starts to respond, to retort, but the words are gone from his Super A.I. before they're even fully formed - he's just not sure how to respond.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he rolls his shoulders, forcing himself to relax, to let go. He nods, agreeing. Whether it turns out that he can or he can't, getting worked up over it won't do him any good. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with this."

And he feels the needle of his fuel gauge slip another micrometer to the left, finally crossing into the red zone. He cycles air in a mimic of a sigh. "I should go. I need to find a mechanic for my engine sooner than later." He looks up, meeting the other robot's gaze. "Thank you for being willing to meet with me, Kagerou. It means a lot to me."

Usually, he's fine with quiet. He doesn't mind it. It's something safe and easy. But now... now it feels oddly oppressive. As if there are words he should say, but can't make come out. Maybe he's said something wrong. Ruined things.

And once more, he can't help but think this would be so much easier with Shadowmaru. He would know what to say -- Kay would know what to say. If either of them were here...

"The others told me you were a team," he says, at length. "Isn't... that part of being a team? Discussing these things?"

He blinks, staring back for a few moments before looking away again. There's still a part of him unwilling to look his previous pursuer in the optics. The gratitude only makes him duck his head, mixed feelings struggling with each other in his AI.

"It doesn't hurt, for what it's worth... the alteration." Even though he'd been more than reluctant to have it done, spending days attached to a generator. "The others will want to see you, too."

The "previous pursuer" part is exactly why Deckard's grateful. It means he has a real chance of making up for that.

Discussing things? Yes . . . and no. Deckard is the team lead. While he wants his team to share with him any and all concerns they have, he knows that...he can't always do the same. The others can't afford for him to. They rely on him to have it together, to know what to do, or to make the best guess he can. There's no room for doubts or self-reflection, not when he's needed. Yuuta is the one that Deckard customarily turns to if he has real need. And Yuuta's not here.

But Kagerou doesn't need to know that. He doesn't need to be given reason to doubt in the team overall sharing and supporting one another. Surely the ninjabot could use it himself. Besides, Deckard appreciates hearing as much from Kagerou.

"It is, yes. One of the things about being a team is looking out for each other. Most commonly, at least for us, it's meant physically, having each other's back in a fight. But it means emotionally too, when one is troubled or in need. No one should ever have to face anything alone."

His hand brushes over his chest, his small grin turning wry. "I'm not worried about pain. It's just that I've never been worked on by anyone but Toudou and our engineering teams before." He shakes that thought from his mind - if all of this really is real (and he was 98% sure he believed it at this point, as crazy as it all was), then he is going to HAVE to let others work on him, and be okay with it.

He nods. "I'll connect with them as soon as I can. In the meantime, if there's nothing else...?"

If there isn't, if Kagerou doesn't indicate it, he'll finally step forward, slowly, closing the rest of the distance between them unless Kagerou shows any sign of not wanting him to do so. If he's able, once within reach, he'll offer his hand.

Edited 2013-10-31 07:57 (UTC)

Sometimes you don't have a choice but to be alone...

His mind adds it before he can stop it. He knows he's technically part of their team now. He's one of them. But, at the same time, none of them could ever fill the void left. Not until he was back -- not until he could see that familiar face again. Nothing would feel right.

"I'm trying to remember that," he says, softly. He was typically like this. Quiet, reserved. Unless something really moved him to speak.

His head tilts.

"You'll need to adjust, yes. The mechanic isn't here." Not anymore. Gunmax had said the man was around. But he didn't know if anything had come of it. "You learn to survive. You have no other choice."

Well, he'd tried.

And then he looks down at the offered hand in mild bewilderment. His own extends, but he doesn't grip the other BP's. It's a mimicry, and nothing more.

Deckard nods at the words . . . when he steps up and Kagerou mimicks him but nothing more, he grins softly to himself. Kagerou doesn't know, does he? Was he never really socialized? Probably not. There'd been things that Shadowmaru had said once in a while, when he'd talk about Kagerou at all (usually he chose not to, it was just too painful even now), that made Deckard wonder. Deckard remembers when everything was new to him too. He still remembers all the talks he and Yuuta had, the boy explaining to him for the first time things he'd grown up with and taken for granted.

Slowly, Deckard takes Kagerou's hand, grip firm enough to be a grip but easily loose enough that Kagerou could pull free with hardly a thought. "Handshake," he says quietly. "It's a gesture of greeting, or in some cases parting. It's for good will." It's meant to be a brief gesture, too, so unless Kagerou indicates otherwise, he'll let go as soon as he's said as much and will step back.

He'd seen it, a few times. But it wasn't exactly common among the mechanics. Or the robots here. And certainly, he and Shadowmaru hadn't had such formality. There wasn't a need to, considering...

He tenses a little, at the sudden contact. One day, he'll get used to it. Today is, apparently, not that day.

"Right." His hand slips away. "I understand."

Deckard's not normally very formal either, certainly not with his own team. He's still not wholly sure exactly where he stands with the ninjabot, though, so he's erring on the side of professional over being "too familiar" just yet.

And with the other's momentary tension, he's glad he did.

He easily lets Kagerou's hand slip free, his own dropping back to his side. He nods. "If there's nothing else, I'll head back out then. Again, need to find a medic and all that."

He heads for the door, pausing there to turn back. "I know I said it before . . . but it really is good to see you, Kagerou. Since you've joined the team, I hope we'll get to work together."

He'll pause a moment longer, but he doesn't want Kagerou thinking he has to reply, so if the other doesn't in a "reasonable" timeframe - long enough to leave an opening but not so long as to seem to force one - he'll turn and head out.

"Right..."

It was important, after all. He didn't know if they even kept the generator around -- with Ratchet gone, he had no idea what became of his medical supplies. Getting the upgrade superseded anything else right now.

He stayed where he was, awkward, suddenly. Did he follow? Did he stay? Which was appropriate?

The other settled it for him, turning to leave. He lingered beside the bookshelf, watching him silently. "I'm sure," he said, just as softly. "It tends to happen, in this place..."

Deckard nodded with a quiet grin. "I'll look forward to it, then. Take care, Kagerou." With that, he went ahead and stepped into the hallway, changing to vehicle form to make his way to the front doors and out of the temple.

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Blast From the Past [Closed]

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Oh, geez . . . sorry, just realized I read Kagerou's "if that's what you want" reply back to the -

it happens~

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