Agent York | Taylor Murray (
goddamngrenades) wrote2013-12-02 03:34 am
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BEEP
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We're going to figure out how they're doing this, and find a way to stop it. [now? no. they simply don't know enough, don't have the resources - even now, months later. But Carolina is perfectly willing and able to prepare for the long term]
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[ No matter how much he'd want to. Worst case scenarios are all he really plays out anymore. All he plans for. ]
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Besides, you're here now. [she lets go of his arm, and glances around the room] So is this..?
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[ He nods to the course all retracted on one side, the turrets, the racks for weaponry and armor, the tech station for Delta. ]
Kinda needed a project to get my head straight so...yeah.
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I can understand that. What've you got installed and running so far?
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Would you be wanting him to design an AI from the ground up for this, or repurpose existing tech here in Proles?
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[ There'd been days where it felt like the AI was the only one happy to see him get back, usually because everyone else was out on their own ops. ]
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She didn't start out like that. That occurred over time, tinkering with subroutines. Part of the AI research that stayed from the beginning. [hence her occasionally creepy perpetual cheer and sassy mouth] But Delta can likely find a way to build one similar.
[ he's a very smart man, after all. ]
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[ One he liked a hell of a lot more than Sigma's. ]
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She survived the crash, at least. [she won't mention that she deleted herself after they found and left the Director, however]
So, dumb AI. Anything else this place still need?
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It's just a dumb project I did instead of sleeping or coping with a lot of shit. That's all. Doesn't really need to be anything. I mean- some people paint, right?
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[she slides one hand against her forehead, dragging her hair back out of her eyes before glancing sidelongways at him] No way to have predicted things would have fallen as they did. Let alone that people would willingly sign up to the militia.
A time may yet come when a place like this will find use, whether we want it to or not. [you could never be too prepared - they'd both learned that through hard experience.] It's was productive 'way of coping', so don't sell yourself short.
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Maybe he could rent the space out as a gym. Who the hell knows? ]
HOw've you been? Coping, that is. This is rough for a lot of people but for you...
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[coping?] Heh. Coping? Adapting. Even with unpleasant surprise after unpleasant surprise.
[she's quiet for a moment, before her gaze drops to the floor] It'd be harder, if I was the only one here. I'm not sure it'd be working out as well under other circumstances.
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[ He shakes it off. That would mean joining the militia, the army, and he's...not going to do that again. one squad dead in an ambush and one that cannibalized itself- yeah. He's too burned to really try again.
Either way this is a good place to practice for all of them. ]
You know I'm here for you- right? Whenever you need?
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But you can never have too many safe locations for putting in practice. ]
Yeah. I know. [she nudges his elbow lightly with a fist] And you don't need to hold yourself alone either.
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[ It baffles, is what it does. All the way to the coffee table and now cold coffee, he remains baffled. ]
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Probably because during those occasions that you're not a jackass, you're capable of getting things done. And you're a good friend.
Not like the rest of us are much better, anyway.
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[She doesn't return his smile, small though it is. But there's no frown, just cautious neutrality.
'Always do'. Maybe that is so. For now. But what happens if the day comes where she doesn't want to anymore?
...Feeling sorry for herself is a useless activity. Her head shakes.]
I'd rather not talk about that right now, if that's all the same to you.
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It's still chocolate so fuck it, he takes a sip of his anyway. Mmmm. Tasty. ]
What do you wanna talk about? I'm here for you, Clair.
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Palm scrubs over her face a moment, and she feels..older. Just, older. Older than York, which she is, older than her mother and her mother's clone combined -- but never as old as the man that sired her became. Palm cups her chin, rough fingers with their scarred knuckles caging her mouth, before a crooked smile forms and she opens her eyes. ]
Can I just. Stay here a little while?
[she doesn't want to talk. just listen, let his voice be an anchor for her if only for a time.]
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