text; un: firecracker

[cactusy]

1. How hard does this place go with simulating bodily functions? We have to eat and expel waste, but do we menstruate? Get colds? Get infections? Get cancer? Get pregnant?

2. If our robot overlord is all about crime and punishment, what happens if we kill someone here?

Comments

private

[cactusy]

I didn't tell you you didn't think it through

actually told you the opposite

[Less than ten seconds after sending that message off, she follows it up with another.]

I'm not seriously upset with you, either.

Re: private

[computation]

Upset but not with each other works for me.

I know what'll cheer you up. Meet me outside the apartment building in an hour.

private

[cactusy]

deal

[She'll be five minutes early, even: standing right next to the front door, ready to catch Root whether she's coming out or heading in.]

-> action

[computation]

[ Root comes striding up the street dressed in coat and knitted hat, looking much like her usual self after a few weeks of total chaos, and in her hand is a leash attached to a very recognizable dog.

Bear catches sight of Shaw farther down the sidewalk after they round the corner and immediately starts barking. Root lets go of the leash with a smile and lets him tear up the road at Shaw on his own, unrestrained. She follows at a more reasonable pace, letting them have their reunion. ]

action

[cactusy]

[There will be uncertainty about the implications here, to be sure - there's no way that Shaw won't wonder how Bear could be here, and what that means for his doggy body in the real world. But none of that negates the way seeing him sparks joy, and even though it hasn't been all that long since she's seen him, she still drops to her knees and offers a welcoming arm out to him, letting him slam into her with no complaint more than a muffled oof.]

[computation]

[ Root walks up to stand over them with a satisfied smile, and she can't resist a jab, easily guessing what Shaw might already be thinking: ]

Don't go giving Bear an existential complex, now. Look at that little face!

[cactusy]

Mmph.

[This muffled response is because her face is currently buried in Bear's scruff, as he snuffles his nose against her cheek.]

No promises.

[But she's smiling, just a little.]

[computation]

[ Shaw smiling even a little means mission accomplished.

Root crouches down to be eye level with her and Bear, and reaches out to ruffle his fur freely. He immediately leans in to snuffle at her face, too. ]

We got to know each other while you were gone, [ she says brightly. ] If you make him sad I'm filing for custody.

[cactusy]

Absolutely not.

[This is said immediately, before her brain catches up enough to remember--]

Wait, no, we basically live together now; custody is symbolic. You wanna lie to yourself and pretend he's yours, knock yourself out.

cw: continued suicide mention

[computation]

I got him for you, silly.

[ Root stands up and puts a hand on her hip with long-suffering tolerance. ]

Plus, I figured this means you couldn't disappear for a week without telling me first.

[ She doesn't always have an ulterior motive, but if she can accomplish multiple goals at once, she's absolutely going to. Cheer up Shaw and get some insurance against solo suicides. ]

[cactusy]

Disappearing for a week with no notice is your thing, not mine.

[But she knows that solo missions for the Machine aren't what Root is talking about. She looks up at her, expression tired but serious.]

I won't. No reason to try again.

[computation]

Good.

[ She's surprised at how much relief sinks through her at that assurance. Root subtly relaxes, a fraction of her performative veneer easing. ]

Do you want to know how to track my GPS signal, too? Might not be a bad idea. Oh-- and we could put one on Bear!

[cactusy]

Just like home.

[She murmurs, giving Bear's neck another good scruff - and then reaching up to grab Root's wrist, trying to tug her back down to their level. C'mere.]

You do it with the fancy tablets?

[computation]

[ Aw, okay. Root crouches down again with a tolerant smile, ruffling Bear's ears and then ruffling Shaw's hair one hand each with the exact same kind of energy. ]

Yeah. It's pretty easy since I built some myself. Spock and Kirk came up with the initial design -- they call them dark web communicators, which is technically true but funny because there's absolutely nothing illicit going on in the secret messages.

[ She checked. It was kind of disappointing, really. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw swats irritably at her hand (there are limits to her willingness to be manhandled, thank you), then immediately negates the effect by lightly leaning her shoulder into Root's.]

Nothing illicit, meaning you haven't started anything? That's a surprise.

[computation]

Everybody on the dark net here is either a literal superhero at home or a dedicated pacifist.

[ Seriously -- she meant it that it was disappointing. ]

Also, I've been a little busy.

[cactusy]

Mm, yeah. Amnesiac friends trump most things.

[The amnesiac friend is, naturally, the AI.]

[computation]

Amnes-- oh. I wouldn't call us friends.

[ Root huffs. ]

Friends return phone calls. I haven't heard anything.

[cactusy]

Okay, not to stick up for the second weird AI to kidnapped me and stick me in a simulation--

[Sorry, Root; she's always going to kind of die on this hill.]

But friends return phone calls when they're able to. And it sounds like it's going through some stuff right now.

[computation]

[ Root likes the local A.I. and cares about it/her to a certain extent, but it's far from being the Machine. It is a little humorous in its own right to hear Shaw defending an A.I. at all, though. ]

I'm not talking about the current version, I'm talking about the backup. We have two different copies, and neither of them are talking.

[ She stands up again, distracted with this line of thought, and brushes road dust off her hands. ]

I should probably check in on Quentin, actually. He downloaded one into his brain.

[cactusy]

I-- what?

[Shaw stands too, but out of habit, hangs back with a hand still on Bear's head - she's accustomed to Root rushing off on tasks that she isn't necessarily invited to herself.]

Is Quentin a cyborg?

[computation]

No, he's a telepath -- a really powerful one, like, turn you into a dribbling idiot powerful. Apparently he's stored copies of A.I. in his brain before. Or something like that.

[ Root's had to get used to some pretty wild stuff in her time here, and she reports this with a sense of edged amusement, knowing how it sounds. ]

I like him. [ This is a questionable recommendation coming from Root, maybe, but she hadn't made it lightly. Quentin is sassy, whip-smart, mildly terrifying, and aligns with her feelings on A.I. What more could she want? ]

You and Bear can come if you want.

[cactusy]

He'd better not turn my dog into a dribbling idiot.

[But that's not a no, obviously. Giving Bear - her dog - one last pat, she reaches down and curls the leash around the fingers of one hand, then reaches over and brushes Root's wrist with the fingers of the other.]

You really like showing me off to people, huh.

[computation]

He talks a tough game, but he's a good guy.

[ Root feels pretty confident about that one; she's not worried about him lashing out. Quentin is way too thoughtful and considered beneath the sarcasm to be a concern.

Then she gets fully distracted with Shaw's hand on her wrist, and she uses her free hand to coyly tuck some hair behind an ear. ]

You think now that I've got you, I'm going to waste a single second?

[cactusy]

Well, when you put it like that.

[Shaw mutters, finally bridging the gap and grabbing onto Root's hand. Handholding has never been a form of physical contact that she's considered herself to be any good at - but sometimes, she still thinks about that aborted moment on the safehouse couch, mere hours before Root's death. Looking down at their linked fingers, she adds:]

And, uh-- yeah, back at you.

[Smooth.]