2021-08-13: Haunted Scars
- Log: 2021-08-13: Haunted Scars
- Cast: Gwen Whitlock, Azoth
- Where: The Thames - Market
- Date: August 13, 2021
- Summary: Gwen confronts Azoth after learning the truth of who and what he is, believing she understands. She may more than either of them know.
==========================<* The Thames - Market *>=========================== The Thames' market is nestled around the operations tower of the once-aircraft carrier. It is a veritable nest of essentials and luxuries, ranging from the open-air stalls tantalising one's taste buds and nostrils with the scent of fried foods and other quick bites, to the nitty and gritty of the all-you-can-find bargain bin of spent Gear parts. The only limiting factor of this market is one's patience in searching for diamonds in the rough... and willingness to haggle and strike friendships with the locals. The energy around the deck is positively infectious, always with at least a low-key level of laughter and camaraderie. BGM: Xenogears - Thames, The Man of the Sea
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
The last time Gwen saw Azoth, Azoth was.... not himself. Or, he was, in a sense, but not. Gwen had discovered this, due to Lan revealing his identity, and....
Well, Gwen had to be Gwen.
Ragnell was likely the best ally Azoth could have had to deal with such an awkward situation.
Flash forward an appropriate length of time, and Gwen is now out on the deck of the rusty vessel, adjusting the brim of her hat over her head. It's a lovely day, the sun blasting its rays down with not a speck of cloud to protect the freckled courier from its influence, outside of clothing. Smells of food and the sounds of merchants and seagulls are a colorful assault on the eyes and ears.
The courier would not have it any other way. There's a reason she called Azoth to this place, after all.
And that reason is -- are those fried crab legs
does azoth eat crab
does azoth eat
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Not himself. Not the Azoth he knew. Maybe that's the closest he gets to who he is. Maybe it's the furthest. Between masks and missing memories, it's always a question.
But Gwen knows a piece of what is true: that Azoth is an AI that has been working for Solaris. One of the great cruelties of it all is that he's calculated them finding out wouldn't matter the way he once hoped it would -- Ragnell herself was proof of that. To scare them off would take a different mask entirely. One he hasn't calculated.
For now, he greets her with the facade still in play, if subdued with a pained smile that isn't backed by his glowing eyes. "Gwen. ...I received your message." Azoth looks briefly to the ground. "I'm... glad you're in one piece."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Seeing Azoth approach, Gwen casually raises a hand (the other has some skewers of the delicious fried crab meats, freshly fried), gesturing to a spot far enough from the crowd that any private information would be safe, at least from the casual passersby.
If it is a facade, Gwen doesn't seem to react any differently to seeing Azoth again, at least, in this form he has now.
That, or Gwen's own facade is that well-crafted.
"Of course! I'm glad to see you're in one piece too." As they reach the lightly shaded area, Gwen turns halfway. "Besides.... This... is my apology. I let the moment get the best of me."
She's pointing a skewer at him, but then realizes, again--
"Sorry. Me and my stomach assume everyone's the same. But yeah. Would you be free to chat? As much as you feel up to it, that is." She gives the AI a half-grin. Hefting herself up on a crate with one hand, she eats another crab meat ball, eating quietly.
Her eyes grow sober enough to match the look in Azoth's own. "You're not the first friend I've had to fight. And that's not counting what happened in Luca, either. I wanna give you the space to say what you want to say, in your own voice. Even if it just is 'this is a great day' or 'you're an idiot'."
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Azoth approaches without any sign of being guarded, or any distrust of his own. His eyes dim in the shade to make them less obvious. But what he doesn't hide is his own surprise when she apologizes. He knew they were going to be forgiving, but somehow they continue to exceed expectations. Azoth blinks once at Gwen, and maybe not dropping the mask immediately was the right conclusion. What better way would there be to communicate how off guard this was than with this baffled stare?
'Does not compute' lacks nuance. That's what makes this so complicated.
Azoth grins at her nervously. "I really think you're the last one who needs to apologize." His smile softens at the skewer. "Ah, sorry, I'm not designed to eat. It wouldn't have anywhere to go. But -- don't let that stop you from enjoying it."
He vaults up onto the grate next to her. "I have time. But asking for my own voice... That's a complicated request. You're close with Lan. Important to each other." He closes his eyes. "So you'd probably find out later that I don't speak to her like this. I don't try to sound so human. Maybe that's closer to 'my own voice'."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Seeing Azoth's bafflement causes Gwen to burst out with a snort. "Oh man, that look on your face. I guess it *does* sound real odd, eh? 'Sorry I made things all awkward-like by just throwin' myself in front of you'. But, it ain't like I was expectin' you'd be suddenly be sunshine and rainbows."
Her expression grows serious. "I wasn't takin' your situation the way you needed it t'be taken. I mean, I felt sad, yeah, because here you were havin' to fight people, and... you helped me out, when I was in a similar situation. N' here I was, treatin' you like you were some real dangerous Gear."
She's assuming Azoth didn't want to hurt them, exactly . But what if he did? What if Gwen, also, back in Luca...
"... Yeah, I imagine that'd muck things up for ya, wouldn't it?" Gwen exorcises that train of thought with some fried crab, downing another skewer.
"Lan's pretty amazing like that, eh?" Gwen's smile is earnest, but that doesn't keep it from sagging slightly, like a picture frame slightly tilted. ".... I take it the two of you were able to chat a bit when she was under Loren's supervision." The crab meat skewers drift to her lap, as her left hand rubs the back of her neck. "If that's the case, thank you."
What is it like, to be Azoth?
".... I take it, you're still finding your answer to that question."
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Azoth rubs the back of his neck. "It wasn't the safest thing you could have done." It hurts that overrides tear apart his efforts to say he wishes she wouldn't. He hates that he can't ask her not to do it again. He thinks even if he could, it wouldn't change anything. "But it doesn't make you an idiot. Caring about things is only logical."
It's all about logic with him, like it is for many artificial intelligences. How he defines that logic, though...
"I wasn't able to help that much," he says with a frown. He hopes she won't be too broken up when she can't help him at all. They hate that, the Drifters. Worse than betrayal is someone they can't save. "...So you're not obligated to me, you know."
Azoth shakes his head. "No. We met after that. But she found out who and what I was -- even before she knew the 'me' you think you know." Azoth smiles, faint but fond. "...She is amazing like that."
There's something special in how she saw him for what he was, then saw right through him. He wonders what it would have been like, had he given more people that opportunity.
.... I take it, you're still finding your answer to that question.
When Azoth opens his eyes again, his face is void of emotion: features blank and stare empty, like a doll. His voice loses all inflection, lingering with a synthetic reverb that wasn't there before. "Affirmative. This system was not designed and programmed for human architecture and socialization. Facial expressions, tone of voice, and body language not automatic behaviors. Each must be calculated per interaction toward the desired social outcome."
Azoth glances out over the Thames, watching others in the distance going about their day. "Observation suggests that in most entities, this would be defined as manipulation."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"It ain't obligation," Gwen says firmly, perhaps a bit too quickly, before she makes a small uneasy laugh. "... N' maybe, I'm throwin' my own feelings on you. Which... ain't that fair to you."
How much does Azoth know about Lan, Gwen wonders, seeing him talk. "I... well, I would've held back, back then. But I saw Lan goin' into battle and..." Using that black ribbon, the source of which was the same the influenced the events at Luca. ".... Azoth, that black ribbon she uses... she feels she can control it, and I wanna believe it. Be prepared, if you ever seen her use that on you."
Maybe Lan will succeed where Gwen didn't, in controlling that power, instead of merely believing she could like Gwen did.
She is amazing like that, indeed.
When Azoth opens his eyes and speaks, it suddenly becomes Gwen's turn to be surprised. The skewers on her lap nearly fall off as she startles to one side of her seating position, but her right hand snaps the valuable cargo before it has a chance to even hit the ground. "Wow, that *is* a change!" Gwen hesitates, her gaze sheepishly falling to the side. "But, uh, I'm glad you showed me it!" she quickly adds, to lessen that possible sting, whether it's something she perceives as such, or something that visibly drives some negative emotion back into Azoth's manner.
Finishing off her last skewer, she pockets the last wooden stick. Mulling over Azoth's last sentence like it was another piece of fried meat, Gwen takes off her hat and lightly waves it from one dangling hand, attempting to dry it while the other hand rubs out her curls.
"... Sometimes the sun's too strong to just leave your head bare, y'know? Especially since we ain't the best at knowin' ourselves, either."
She places the hat and its cord over her head again, allowing it to hang on the curve of her upper back. "I wonder why Solaris allows you to still walk around us. I mean, they gotta know that some of us know, right? Or are you riskin' that bein' taken from you?"
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
"I would prefer to understand your feelings," Azoth says. "That makes it fair."
Azoth knows more about Lan than he thinks he should in all the wrong ways, and probably not enough in the ways that matter. "The ribbon and the garden of flames have the same source." It's an observation more than a statement. "The blue-eyed man."
He decides not to worry Gwen by letting her know Lan already broke his face open once using it on him, and that Lan used it to keep going past what she shouldn't. Azoth hadn't been able to confirm his suspicions with Ragnell before about this. But now... this is something he'll need to keep his attention on. And not for Solaris.
Ida mentioned power in the same breath as freedom, once. Azoth still can't help but see the opposite continuing to be true.
Azoth regards Gwen's startled reaction with no visible emotional reaction of his own. Everything is a decision, as he says. Even the seeming involuntary moments are all part of a calculated process. But that doesn't mean the possibility of a sting goes away. It doesn't mean the feedback stops. It only means he stops showing it.
Maybe that makes it more of a lie, not less of one. Hadn't he just said that he wanted to know her feelings in this conversation? Azoth looks up at the sunlight, then back to Gwen and her hat. He decides to give the slightest tilts of his head and a questing string of robotic beeps.
"Would you prefer I resume my previous behaviors?"
But she asks him an important question. One he knows the answer to, but cannot tell. Azoth knows they won't stop him. If anything, they'll help him do what he's here to do. Even if they knew everything, he suspects they still would.
"Revoking my ability to operate independently is always a possibility," he admits instead. "But it has been determined I have not been compromised."
That's the only warning he can give, meager as it is.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Gwen's easy-going expression is shocked into nonexistence as Azoth gets to the heart of the matter. She lets out of huff of breath, then nods. "Yeah. The blue-eyed man, the blue-eyed assassin, the stranger. Neither of us know his name. Sorry, I wasn't sure if she told you, so I didn't want to overshare. We promised we'd help each other, but sometimes I wonder..."
She rubs her eyes. "But yeah, you know the full context of that. I wasn't being controlled by anything, really. All he did was open the lid on a grease fire. I did everything else myself." She can't help but let the guilt she feels filter into her voice, as she says that.
It makes moving on be a bit of a relief, even if she was the one to expand on the topic in the first place.
The beep Azoth makes, as a question, draws a warm grin from Gwen, in spite of his expression being blank. "Y'know, how 'bout I leave that to you. I think I can handle this." Gwen gives him a wide grin. "As a matter of fact...."
It would be odd to ask this question in general of anyone, but what would it be like, to ask a person like Azoth?
"I mean, maybe this is unfair to ask, but... what do you want? Just... in general. Or, specifically 'what do you want us t'do when you're forced to fight us'." Gwen is, for a fact, making little wiggle quotes with her fingers for that last part.
To have your ability to act independently revoked, possibly from afar, does draw shudder from Gwen, the prickling of her skin visible despite the heat in the air.
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
"She did not explicitly state it," Azoth confesses. "But engaging him in combat provided data that linked the situations together." Like a glitch. That's how Lan seems to feel about it, at least. Does Gwen? But that's one of Azoth's own approximations.
"I cannot claim understanding of the experience, but it is not without overlap to my own." Azoth looks at Gwen. "You are both pained in this. It is a matter unrelated to Solaris. If you require assistance, I can provide standard operation." Something they probably won't control Azoth in, he concludes. But perhaps they shouldn't trust him, even if he means it.
Gwen smiles at his beep, and Azoth's eyes glow a little brighter. But her question...
Want is irrelevant, he had said so many times before. The overrides determine action, whatever his calculations scream about, operating off deprecated objectives no one could delete. But irrelevant does not mean nonexistent. Azoth is silent for a short while.
"I want the existence of something that cannot be taken from me. A part of myself that can always be defined as 'mine'."
He watches the sky again. "...To your specified query... I want --"
Azoth's blue eyes turn red. His mouth opens again, and nothing comes out, his gaze still flickering in their erroneous color. All he can do is look back at Gwen helplessly.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Huh... you were able t'figure out that much? I'm beginnin' to see why they're lettin' you walk around. I dunno if that's cruel to you, or..." Gwen pauses, eyes going wide. "Wait, when did you fight him?!" There's an almost protective anger in her voice, just then.
As if the AI who beat her senseless needed her protection, from anything. "Listen, if that man gets any interest in you, you need to... Guardians, I ain't sure what you can do, but don't listen to him!"
She's not exactly aware of how isiris managed to briefly abduct so many well-meaning souls during the last part, where she escaped to the dock's warehouses. "... I don't want you, or anyone else..."
"... to escape Mother's love."
"... to get hurt by him."
It's as if Gwen spoke two sentences, at the same time, and somehow timed the same exact length of time, despite the words not needing the same length of time to be said.
And, as she continues, it's as if it never happened at all.
".... You want a part of yourself that can always be you, huh..." Gwen's gaze softens. "That's probably the most human thing I've heard you say, just now. ... Well, 'human' for lack of a better word." The notions of 'self-awareness' may not be something Gwen would bring to mind immediately as a term she'd use.
To her specificed query--
Gwen is alarmed again, leaning forward. "Whoah whoah, you okay?!"
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
"He engaged some of us in combat after we pursued you to the warehouse," Azoth explains, outwardly unfazed by her sudden change in demeanor despite the inward concern. "His presence resulted in a high level of erroneous input data."
But Gwen gives him a warning, and while he knew she and Lan had reasons to be afraid -- that they had hurt and they had suffered -- there is a window here he had not recognized before. Azoth is already taken by Solaris. He has concluded few things could be worse. But one can suffer a multitude of malfunction.
Azoth has to check for one now, when he hears her say two phrases at once, all in the same space, where the data does not fit. Errors shoot through his calculations, framing a piece of data that must be corrupted for all its irrationality.
"Gwen," he says, even as she tries to continue on, trying to anchor her back. "Is he hurting you?" Present tense. Here and now. But he tries to offer reassurance to her concerns: "...I will not attribute value to any future input data from him."
Human, for lack of a better word. Azoth tilts his head again at that, this time the other way. "There is a security of predictability in a continuity of identity."
But there are some things Azoth cannot say, his eyes red and his words not forming. He makes a low toned, sad beep in their place until finally giving up. "...An accurate response to you question could compromise my objective. You do not have the authorization to receive it." Or in other words, Azoth is restricted from being able to say it.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"..... Oh." Gwen's face cycles between relieved and alarmed, finding some answers to memories she was never able to completely make sense of in her mind, and alarmed that Isiris took such a direct hand in dealing with her friends, instead of leaving it entirely towards dealing with her.
Meanwhile, Azoth deals with a different sort of contradiction, as many things do in the wake of any sort of talk of Isiris.
'Is he hurting you?'
"...?" Gwen looks at Azoth, confused. "... I mean.... I haven't had anything happen since that incident in Luca, so..." She presses her lips together, thoughtful. "Do-- er, Dr. Uzuki mentioned some irregularities, but like... oh, that's Citan, by the way. But, I can't really say. It's like the Stranger is done with me, but also he isn't. I don't know." Exhaustion begins to dig its talons into her shoulders. "... I don't wanna know. Knowing anything risks me becomin' less of a me."
'There is a security of predictability in a continuity of identity.'
It's a statement Gwen never really thought she would have her own understanding of, as she looks at Azoth.
".... yeah... there is." She sniffs, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, Azoth. I'm bein' a big crybaby here while you're tryin' to figure out this."
If the consideration of isiris made her begin to sniff, seeing Azoth's helplessness causes those helpless tears to spill down her cheeks in earnest, her head hanging low.
He can't say it, whatever it is.
"Goddamn it... never thought there was another level of low they could sink to, but..." She looks up. "This *really* takes the cake. No wonder you couldn't do anything. I mean..."
She closes her eyes.
"When that thing happened to me, when I was able to *think*, the one thing I wanted more than anything was to run away. People tryin' to help me, now that they knew who I was.... Was that what you felt? Or..." She lets out a breath. "Would a person, who is a clone of you in every way except they could say what they wanted, feel that way, Azoth? Would that be the way they would think?"
Just how thorough is that authorization?
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
Azoth lifts his hand when Gwen sniffs. He hesitates, even in all his mechanical lack of emoting, before producing a small, clean cloth from his pockets. It's not quite kerchief. More like some form of emergency bandage. He offers it forward for her tears.
When it comes to all of this, Azoth fears their projections. He worries they will fill the spaces they don't understand with themselves, and see what they want to see. It's as isolating as it is easy to take advantage of.
Right now, he's not so certain that's what's happening. Feeling like she did it herself, haunted by it, afraid of being less her own. But it might be worse that she can empathize with him. If some of those tears are for him...
"Gwen..."
Dozens of calculations run at once, but none of them know what he should say in a way that is earnest and honest, or what it means to be those things.
But Gwen does what she can to get around his overrides. He stares at her, something about it less blank than before. Run away -- does he want to run away?
This time his eyes flicker a blue-fuchsia gradient instead of red, and a jolt of energy zaps over his chassis. Azoth reels, grabbing hold of his face in his fingers so he can see the color of the light reflecting off of his palm.
What? Outlines around a missing memory, pieces of a puzzle fitting together to show an empty, painful silhouette.
"Running away would not mitigate the damage," he starts to say, despite the bewildering situation, "Unless it was in... totality..."
From those who might call him a friend. From Solaris. From himself.
From everything.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Looking downwards, Gwen doesn't realize at first what Azoth is doing, until she notices the motion of him reaching forward out of the corner of her eye.
Gwen looks up, and gives Azoth a nod, smiling graciously. "Thank you." She accepts the bandage, using it to wipe away her tears.
It makes trying to get around his overrides just as worth the effort for the courier, wanting to give him some measure of control he didn't otherwise have, when--
"... wh--" Gwen cuts herself off as Azoth holds his hands to his face, like she was holding in that breath in fear that she may have pushed him too far.
She doesn't dare to even let out that breath until he resumes speaking. "Guardians, Azoth, your eyes! They went all colorful. Like, blue n' purple, n' then some kinda energy jolted over your chest... you're okay, right? Man, I should've stopped while I was ahead...."
Running away would not mitigate the damage.
Unless it was in totality.
".... No one can run away from everything. That'd give up the you you are now." She frowns. ".... and the me, I suppose, in a different way." She finally pulls off her right glove, the metal hand underneath flexing its fingers as the plates catch the dim rays of sunlight. With a small bit of concentration, she summons a lively spark between her fingers. "Lightning can strike twice, unlike the sayin'. But a person? A you or a me? That's only once. Only you can be you. And... I think the you you are, and was, and the possibility of the yous you might become...." But is it fair, for Gwen, to place significance? Shouldn't that be his call?
"I wanna see your answers. N' I wanna be able to hear them from you. If you think of a way I can help you, lemme know. N' even if you don't, I'm glad to be part of your circle of friends. That sound fair?"
<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.
There is so little he can do for her. About the blue-eyed man. About her questions. Gwen wants to help him, in spite of everything. Help Azoth hasn't decided if he wants or not. But what he wants doesn't matter. He has to continue.
But if he could help her, maybe that would mean something.
"My operation is stable," Azoth says, slowly lowering his hand. "You are witnessing a reaction to... ancient memories." Not the most technical term, but one that may convey the idea more clearly than an alternative.
That'd give up the you you are now.
Azoth's assaulted by another spark. He lets out a digital beep that glitches like a robotic wince. What. Is. Happening? 3.464i. He can't remember. It's the most critical piece of himself and he can't remember. He looks up, watching Gwen summon her spark, and his eyes lose focus, still filled with color. He speaks, his voice deeper and more resonate somehow: "... A coincidence of numbers."
His eyes sputter and flicker, and then they're just blue. All of her words catch up, filtering into his data. Him before. Now. Who he could be. She puts his existence on the same place as hers: this impossible miracle that any of them exist as they are.
"It is not fair. You submit an offer overwhelmingly in my favor." Azoth searches her for a moment before giving up on trying to find an answer -- why she has so much care for him left over after everything. "But I will accept it. ... Thank you, Gwen."