Android AU

[worthallthis]

Coming in out of the snow, he says, "Hey, Misty, I'm home."

Since the robot isn't even finished, let alone powered up, she's not actually able to answer. He doesn't care. It's not like he's got anyone else to talk to besides the cat, and the cat's not in here, out catching mice or maybe sleeping in the attached little barn.

"Got some parts that might finish you up, finally," he continues, stamping snow off his boots and hanging up his coat. The metal arm vibrates a little, trying to shake the cold from its circuits, and he puts a kettle on the stove before padding over to the mostly-finished robot in the corner and dropping his pack next to her. She doesn't look perfectly human, but she's as close as he can get with the spare parts he's been scrounging up on his trips out into the world.

What's left of the world, anyway. War and disease and famine have made a mess of things, and he's long since given up on trying to do what he can do to stop it, and just helps where he can. The arm makes him stand out, though. That and his general good health. It's getting harder and harder to keep a low profile, except among the one local group that considers him "theirs". Hence, android. With more clothes and a better wig, with a few upgrades once he knows he can make her work, she might pass better than he ever will, especially with the awkward way he imagine's she's going to move until he gets some better upgrades. Besides... he could use the company, way out here.

He puts together a little sandwich and mixes the cocoa into the hot water, then comes to see if what he's found can at least get her running.

It's late in the night, another sandwich and cocoa later, with only a brief break to let in the cat and give her a pet and dinner, that he finally sits back and says, "Well. Let's give this a try." And he reaches behind her, finds the series of switches, and sets them in their careful order. There's no one switch, there's a pattern. Then nobody can turn her off who doesn't know how.

Then he sits back to look up at her, and wait for her system to power up.

Comments

[worthallthis]

Pulling the little card table of tools and spare parts over, he crouches in front of her, figuring he'll handle the knee first. At the question he looks up and gives her another quick smile. "Bucky. And I've been calling you Misty." There's a bit of sadness to him, at the name, but it's a fond kind of sadness. "If that's not okay, if there's something else you'd rather be called. Just let me know, okay?"

[shadowsran]

Social cues are very, very easy to run into loopholes for, and were patched at the time of her testing on an individual basis. It is understood that regarding names specifically, there's an amount of time that ought to pass before asking into any obvious wistfulness, regret, sadness, or frustration they're linked to. It will be impossible to forget, and so will come back later. Once he's had more time to acclimate. When it will be less upsetting.

"Misty is perfect. You have good taste, it's a wonderful name," she chirps, the picture of docility as he works. Eyes remain on him, hands clasped in her lap. "I quite like Bucky myself. Can I ask where we are?"

[worthallthis]

"You can ask any question you want, doll," he says. "We're in North America, somewhere in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains. What's left of Kentucky, if you got any location data knocking around in there. Not sure how old you are, how updated your files are."

[shadowsran]

"I do!" She's pleased to report. Helpful, she can orient herself somewhat. Doubly good is the permission to ask all questions. Loopholed. "My model was fabricated in 2016, and my most recent update was November twelfth, 2018." Considering the prestigious, eccentric lab of origin, she's in fine shape. "No core software or functions seem to be out of date, but I can run a scan at any time."

A pause, so he can process.

"Why do you call me Misty?"

[worthallthis]

"Oh, honey." He looks up at her with a kind of apologetic expression. Christ, she's been in pieces for... a long time. "Your software probably ain't gonna get any more updates unless I make them for you." Wherever she came from, they're long gone now.

He sighs, gives her now-unlocked knee a little pat, then collects the oil to give it a little cleaning to hopefully prevent further locking. "Used to know somebody named Misty, is all. Long time ago. Your face looks a little like her."

[shadowsran]

"Are you programmed to engineer?" It hurts to run the thought, just a touch, so she presses on. His explanation is easily understood, and her chin dips in a nod. Used to know. Precariously approaching fields she isn't meant to ask into so soon, but it's overriden wholly by safety concerns.

"Is she a threat?" Should an eye be kept out? Interpersonal conflict so great she may assault the user?

[worthallthis]

Wow, okay, there's. A lot to parse in that. He sits back on his heels, blinking up at her. "No, no. Not like that. She was a friend, and. She died. No threat at all. And. Er. I learned electronics on my own. Nobody programmed me to know it."

God, he hasn't thought of his "programming" in... a long time. He knows there's still some knocking around in his head, but at this point everyone who knows about it is dead, he's pretty sure, so he's as safe as he can be.

[shadowsran]

"I'm so sorry." The only thing to be said, really. That clarification adjusts her view handily, eyebrows arching and pupils widening appropriately, a perfect picture of sympathy. A hand rests, briefly, on his shoulder. "I'll remain perfectly operational without updates, but I'll accept any given. Thank you for thinking of it, Bucky."

[worthallthis]

He's not sure if that's sweet or a little creepy. Maybe a bit of both. He pats her hand on his shoulder, though, and smiles up at her face. "It's okay. It was years ago." He still misses her, but it's a familiar ache by now, and he knows how to live with it.

Then he ducks out from under it and climbs to his feet so he can get to work on her elbow. "At least without modern updates, or with the kind of homebrew patches I could write you if you wind up needing anything, I doubt anybody's going to be able to hack you." Nobody's going to expect tech from forty years ago on a bot, even if they make her as a bot.

[shadowsran]

"Loss has surprising repercussions, but I understand. If there are any limitations you'd like to make regarding it, please do let me know."

Security is good, and there's some hardwired investment in it. Hardly any good if she can't fulfill directives, and there's quality integrity at stake.

"Should I anticipate needing anything?"

[worthallthis]

He's gotten used to loss, at this point-- they're almost old friends. He's lost everybody, and is likely to lose the handful of people who know and like him these days before too long. So he just nods to the statement; there's nothing he's going to do to limit her that isn't for the safety of herself or others, but it's a nice thought.

"Not right now," he assures her, popping open the minimal casing on her arm to better get at the exposed glitchy servos. "Right now your job is to learn your new parts, get to know yourself and me, and let me teach you about what the world is like right now. Eventually we'll be going out in it together, to help people, but not until we both think you're ready and comfortable with it."

[shadowsran]

Comfortable. He's kind.

"Alright. What parts are new?" It isn't as though she could feel it; the casing is the same and the feedback is the same, allowing for small changes befitting any out-of-lab repair work. Any of her could be swapped around and she would have no idea. "And what's the best way to get to know you? Lots of questions irritates some."

No word on what she could be like, because she's not anything particularly.

[worthallthis]

That's not gonna fly, kiddo. Everyone is something. Even recovered assassins who at one point thought the same thing.

"A lot of your insides, I'm afraid. Managed to salvage your core processors and your data storage." Though he really had thought most of that had been scrubbed. Did she have some backup data storage hiding in another spot? Possible. Probably for the best, anyway, since her original programming is clearly great, and non-violent. "Pretty much all the wiring and most of the scaffolding under your casing is pieced together from other androids from later, different models. There wasn't a lot left of the original you."

He'll deal with the him-question in a minute, as that seems like enough to be going on with, for now.

[shadowsran]

There's no sentiment, and so no sentimental reaction. Notes made to keep a keener eye on internal processes, a subroutine created of comparing speeds to past averages. It can be tweaked later.

"The original me," she repeats, regardless.

"Such a lot of work on minimal resources, are my new functions important? Time sensitive-?"

[worthallthis]

"Nah, not really. I didn't even expect you to work this well right off," he says with another smile, eyes back down on her elbow and the delicate work he's doing aligning some very small gears. "I built a lot of extra tweaking and fixing time into my schedule with you, Misty. The goal is to have you ready for the outside world by the time spring rolls around and taking you out won't freeze your circuits."

[shadowsran]

"Outside sounds nice..." A murmur, thoughtful. "Will I take that long? I can tend to mechanics myself with hands free. When you sleep, of course. Wouldn't take up time." Software will be on him; hard bans, there. "More time to talk?"

[worthallthis]

"Be pretty hard for you to get at things on your back, or your elbows," he points out with gentle amusement. "It's okay, I like doing mechanical work, too. Once you're familiar with the new parts, and we've got them all in working condition, you can handle your own maintenance, though. I know that feels better than having people work on you."

He closes the casing on her elbow. "Besides, we can talk and work at the same time. Try extending that arm again."

[shadowsran]

"Whatever is easiest feels best." It is known. The less direct work asked of him, the better. Of course, his liking it means whatever he deems best is best, so it hardly matters either way.

The arm extends fully, to her visible pleasure. "Thank you! What would you like to talk about?"

[worthallthis]

He pulls the other kitchen chair over to sit, and the cat-- a scraggly-looking gray tabby-- jumps onto his knee as soon as he has it propped up, apparently disturbed by all the moving around. "This is the cat, she's allowed to be here, but she's outside a lot, too." He pauses, stroking her gently with the flesh hand while she rubs her fur all over his shirt. "Never did name her, actually."

[shadowsran]

This is the first she's seen one in the flesh, and it's clearly something delightful. So small, so affectionate, tiny friend.

"She's beautiful, look at that. Do I look after her?"

[worthallthis]

"She looks after herself, mostly, but when I'm gone you'll need to know how much to feed her and how to clean her box." He scratches under her chin, then offers, "Want me to set her on your knee, see what it's like?" He knows the cat is used to Misty as an inanimate object, so she ought to get used to Misty as a moving person, too.

[shadowsran]

"Please?"

It would be so nice to pet a cat.

[worthallthis]

"Okay, prop your heel on the support bar of the chair like this--" He moves his knee so she can see how he's sitting. "--to give her something to sit on."

Once Misty's positioned right, he scoops the big tabby off his own lap and drops her lightly onto Misty's. The cat gives him a dirty look for disturbing her, but doesn't jump down. "Stroke in the direction of her fur, gentle-like," Bucky advises. "Head to shoulders, behind her ears."

[shadowsran]

Simple directions, and a great, great deal of incentive to performing them well. Nothing about a cat to take directives from, they just...are. They be, and need nothing further. And as she quickly discovers, they're so soft.

"Hello," she coos, "Look at you-!"

[worthallthis]

Bucky watches her with a little smile, kind of amazed. Nothing about his hard-learned and patchwork knowledge of coding made an android who could so clearly enjoy petting a cat. How had he managed to pick up the best ruins of a bot he possibly could have? Jesus.

The cat rubs her cheek on Misty's fingers, then tilts her chin, clearly demanding the scritches continue there, next.