2020-09-17: Not Really in My Programming

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  • Log: Not Really in My Programming
  • Cast: Loren Voss, Azoth
  • Where: Damzena Desert
  • Date: September 17, 2020
  • Summary: Back on base, Loren contemplates the matter of an upcoming mission. He encounters Azoth, of who he has heard, and makes a request.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Captain Loren Voss, medical, scrolls through text on his tablet as he walks the halls of Assyria Base, tucked away in the wastes of the Damzena Desert. The metallic halls are mostly empty -- he's heard the rumors himself, that some operation's planned to roll out shortly. No orders have been delivered yet, as far as he knows, but he supposes he'll get to see whether he's going to be with the group sent out or managing support from here.

    Frankly, he'll eat his hat if he ends up on remote support. It never happens.

    But remarkably, he has other things on his mind than an impending missing (maybe, probably) that he's almost certainly going to get caught up in. One of those things is, yeah, the fact that he probably should have kissed Anaitis and he's still kicking himself mentally over that. The other thing -- more pressingly so -- is Lan.

    In the end, she never did come back. From the reports he'd been privy to, there hadn't even been a trace left of her path after a while. Whatever had come over her -- he knows what it was -- had seemingly vanished her as if she had never been. And he can't even tell if this is a good or bad outcome yet.

    After all, he's not sure what the Major's going to do. It's hard to know what Leah's thinking.

    Grimacing at his tablet, he stops for a moment outside one of the clinics and raps a questioning fist on the door. There's no response. He opens the door. It's as empty and still as the grave. "...Seriously?" Loren asks, rhetorically.

    There is supposed to be someone stationed in here. What's the point of being a captain if your staff aren't even listening to you?!

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

When on Solaris and their related bases, Azoth does away with his efforts to blend in as anyone passably human. At least, most of the time -- the Watcher has already given her requests for a more pleasant disposition, but this will be something that every "user" will have to establish for themselves. He has concluded, however correctly or incorrectly, that as property of Solaris, it would be pointless to try convincing them -- manipulating them? -- into believing he were anything but a soulless, if advanced, machine following its orders.

The negative feedback that would come with rejection after desperately trying is not absent from his calculations, either.

So it is that Azoth approaches Loren without announcing himself at all (well, all right, that's a flaw Azoth has no matter how he's choosing to act), standing still as a statue with his posture inhumanly straight and his face void of expression.

"Distress detected," he says, making no effort to disguise the synthetic reverb to his voice. "Can this system provide assistance?"

There doesn't seem to be many other people around who could offer.

Azoth
While those on the surface may meet an Azoth with a cheerful disposition, those on Solaris meet a different demeanor. He still looks a young man of slight build and adrogynous features, but his glowing, robotic eyes are frequently dimmed upon his expressionless face. He has a head of sandy blonde hair, messy and short with thick bangs that can't decide which direction to go, and his skin is a couple shades darker in contrast. He wears a cropped white coat with a thick, grey hood over a turtleneck with sleeves that extend over his hands, exposing only his fingers. His black, thigh high boots are heeled to help him make up for an otherwise average height. With grey slacks, it'd be a monochrome wardrobe if not for the flecks of gold that make up his buttons and clasps.

His posture is painfully perfect, and he makes no unnecessary movements. When he must, there's no effort put into smoothing them in any organic illusion, acting with precision and sharp angles. What seems human on the surface becomes uncannily mechanical in action and passable for a statue when at rest. (Image: https://dreamchasers.space/File:Azoth.png that, still, but no smiling allowed)

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    "Gah--!"

    Loren realizes he's not alone.

    Turning sharply towards the intruder, he does something of a doubletake as he realizes a few things:

    First among them is likely the fact that the man seems more statue that human being. The second, of course, is the particular tonality to his voice. ...And choice of words. "Wait, aren't you..." He closes his eyes for a moment. "...You're the machine. I received a note about you. What was your designation... Azoth, right." At least in this, his memory isn't failing him. It means he can continue to hide the issue a little longer. perhaps.

    It's then that Loren realizes that the machine's asked him if there's something he can... do.

    "...Unless you're very good with finding wayward lieutenants, then nothing." He considers this statement for a moment as well as who he's giving it to, then waves a hand through the air. "You know what, forget it. It's fine. I'll write them up for it later."

    He then squints at Azoth, as if to study him carefully. "The dispatch wasn't clear about it. What is your mission here?" Knowing his luck, it's probably some sort of classified business. Well, fine. It doesn't hurt to ask.

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

Azoth weathers Loren's shock stoically, if "stoic" is the right word for any sort of reaction not being natural at all. Internally, there is a debate: should he feel guilt for startling him, or clutch to this tiny, fleeting moment of power over a human?

"Affirmative," Azoth replies when Loren gives his designation, because of course he does. "Navigational systems operational. Adjustments possible for locating personnel." It isn't what Azoth was specifically programmed for, but it'd wouldn't be the oddest errand to adapt to. Loren, however, asks him to forget it, and maybe that's for the best.

"This system's primary function is that of an excavation drone, but I am capable of serving auxiliary functions. Current objective: perform combat systems diagnostic for upcoming operation." Pause. "Urgency: medium. Current user requests take priority."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Oh no that's what he was afraid of. Loren pulls a face in those moments before he about-turns on the suggestion Azoth help him look for his missing staff, deciding that this will only lead to trouble. Never give an AI an order or they'll complete it, probably in some way you won't really like. ...What's the spec on something like this, anyway, he considers briefly, giving Azoth the once-over. Probably better than his Gear since Azoth's autonomous and Schiehallion sure isn't (even if Anaitis talks like it is). The briefing on him wasn't really clear. Probably something way above his paygrade, honestly...

    Figures.

    "Excavation, huh. Sounds like you'll be handy whenever we're next investigating a site. ...Huh." Loren eyes Azoth for a moment, then exhales a heavy sigh. "Great. The machine gets confirmation before we do. I guess you can't tell me what the deal is, huh." Frankly, the most they'd even need to tell something like Azoth is 'get ready', so...

    Loren shakes his head. "Forget it. ...Hey, how good did you say you were at finding people again? What if they went off base?"

    He's thinking about Lan again, naturally.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Oh no that's what he was afraid of. Loren pulls a face in those moments before he about-turns on the suggestion Azoth help him look for his missing staff, deciding that this will only lead to trouble. Never give an AI an order or they'll complete it, probably in some way you won't really like. ...What's the spec on something like this, anyway, he considers briefly, giving Azoth the once-over. Probably better than his Gear since Azoth's autonomous and Schiehallion sure isn't (even if Anaitis talks like it is). The briefing on him wasn't really clear. Probably something way above his paygrade, honestly...

    Figures.

    "Excavation, huh. Sounds like you'll be handy whenever we're next investigating a site. ...Huh." Loren eyes Azoth for a moment, then exhales a heavy sigh. "Great. The machine gets confirmation before we do. I guess you can't tell me what the deal is, huh." Frankly, the most they'd even need to tell something like Azoth is 'get ready', so...

    Loren shakes his head. "Forget it. ...Hey, how good did you say you were at finding people again? What if they went off base?"

    He's thinking about Lan again, naturally.

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

"Affirmative," Azoth replies again, concerning what the 'deal' is. "This is not a matter of classification. This system does not possess further details." Loren's got the right of it: all Azoth has to do is show up and follow the directives given from there. He's already got a prediction on it though: blow things up. That's, largely, what the interest in keeping Azoth around is about in the grand scheme.

Azoth's eyes light up just a little. "This system frequents in off base activities. Secondary objective: blend in with surface dwellers--" he's not going to say 'Lambs', "--to integrate directly into society and collect additional data." Not that he at all behaves like someone who could in this particular moment. "Scouting for persons of interests and retrieving designated targets would be a simple addition."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Loren just sighs at that response. "I'm not sure what I expected," he says, shrugging his shoulders as if to suggest 'what can you do'.

    Probably something violent, because even when he gets tasked for the allegedly-peaceful things (see also: the whole thing with Minister Shakhan) something goes horribly wrong.

    "Hope they programmed you to fit in better than this," Loren mutters to himself unkindly as Azoth relays his social functions. He shakes his head. "So... okay. If I give you an area a person was last seen in and their physical description, wait, no, I think I have some images. I'll get an image."

    Otherwise he's going to get a report on every goofy-looking blonde girl with dark skin that happens to be on the island. He knows how this works.

    "--So if I gave you that, you might be able to check out, say... the entire Damzena Desert?"

    Then he explains a little more clearly. "Someone I... supervise has gone missing in the desert but search crews haven't found anything yet."

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

Azoth's hearing picks up on Loren's comment.

Suddenly, his disposition shifts.

"It isn't really directly in my programming," he begins, the synthetic sound replaced by cheer, "But I've picked up on a few things from observation! I am always open to further criticism if you think it needs adjustment, though." He leans a little forward now, looking to Loren expectantly -- hopefully, even. There may be a lot about human behavior Azoth struggles with, but his smiles are terrifyingly natural, reaching all the way to the eyes. He's even learned and practiced all the ways smiles can be used, including for expressions other than contentment! Smiles are his favorite. So versatile! So efficient!

It's breathing he hasn't got, but that's what his little bouncy fidget is supposed to help hide to keep uncanny valley from setting in too hard.

Then just like that, Azoth's straightened back up and gone robotic again. "An image would provide the most accurate results," he agrees. Then his eyes glow a bit brighter. Something in his gaze is distant -- he's searching his internal files and maps. "Request accepted. Secondary objective set."

Missing, though... In a desert.

"...Requesting recovery supplies in case subject's condition is critical."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Azoth's entire demeanor undergoes a sea change.

    "What...?" is Loren's initial response. He fixes Azoth with a long stare, his own discomfort growing as -- except for the breathing part -- Azoth puts on a good imitation of a normal living person. "Wait a minute. Wait. You're not just an limited intelligence, are you? ...How advanced are you? What's Command doing?" he wonders aloud, glancing if briefly up at the ceiling.

    He wonders if she's watching this. ...He wonders if she's laughing at this.
    (Well, no, Leah wouldn't deign to be so crude as to overtly laugh. She has more subtle ways.)

    "So what are--"

    Just like that, the persona drops. He's left to blink as Azoth is, again, a completely normal artificial limited intelligence.

    ...Oh, you ass, he thinks to himself, as if he hasn't been, himself.

    Shaking his head, he regards Azoth a touch more warily when the machine explains what he'll need.

    "I'll... send a few images to your account," he says, glancing down at his screen to tab a few icons. He glances back up at Azoth periodically as he does this, as if he expects him to start smiling at him again, or something. "...There. ...Do you even use a console?"

    Probably... not.

    And then Azoth says that if he's going looking, he'll need something for it. Just in case.

    Loren looks at him for a long moment, then sighs. "Yeah, yeah. I'll get you a survival kit." Sliding open the door to the clinic, he steps inside to retrieve one for exactly that purpose.

    "...Her name's Lan, by the way," he says, from somewhere within the clinic. "Lan Lilac. If she's conscious she might ask you a lot of stupid questions, but just get her back here." He falls silent, and it's not until he re-emerges that he completes the sentence.

    "...Safely."

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

Azoth notes Loren's reaction to his mimicry with curiosity, not that it shows on his face anymore. There is a self fulfilling prophecy to his behavior, but... He doesn't want to be tortured on the programming table, having them all explain to each other how his pain isn't real. However...

"Questions identified as rhetorical. Output canceled."

The taste of power was too much. New behavior unlocked: robotic snark.

But there is business to focus on. "This system is compatible with plugging directly into consoles," he says. He waits while Loren leaves. Waits and listens. This sounds more personal that Azoth expected it to be.

"Safely," he repeats. He senses the gravity in it. Azoth shifts his disposition again into a smile, but this one softer.

"I promise."