capeandcowllogs | why are we alive? and here's how they replied:

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why are we alive? and here's how they replied:

WHO: Madison and Danger.
WHERE: X-Club lab at the Institute.
WHEN: Tuesday night, after Lil confesses to Madison.
WARNINGS: Robots...
SUMMARY: Actualwife's loss is Robogirlfriend's gain tbh.
FORMAT: Quickie!

[ Danger had chosen not to interfere. She had considered the possibility that Lillian would take the action she did, after being confronted for Cross's location-- and if there was one thing Danger knew humans would reliably do, it was forgetting their logic in their most emotional moments. Maybe there was something she could have done to prevent it, to spare Madison the heartache, but she hadn't said much after informing Madison where his wife had gone. She'd chosen the role of the passive observer, listening through her connection with Madison's neural microchip and biding her time. Her motives, whatever they were, stayed unspoken.

Maybe it was simply that she thought Lillian deserved the chance to make her own choices. Or it had simply come to the point where she no longer felt obligated to protect their marriage for the sake of Madison's happiness. After all, her confidence in her ability to fulfill that function-- making Madison happy-- had returned with her mechanical body, and if she felt any debt was owned to Lillian for her reluctant hospitality, that feeling was complicated. By history. Resentment. Rivalry.

When Madison showed up at the Institute in the aftermath, she didn't attempt to seem surprised. She knew, and she expected he knew that she did. No explanations were required between them. She let him have his space during the afternoon into the evening-- time enough to get into his work. It's only then that she approaches him, coming to stand across from him at his work bench, watching him with those unblinking eyes. ]

Do you wish to talk?

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[ It’s been difficult for Madison to even guess what he feels right now, head filled by a haze of infinite thoughts and emotions hours after leaving his wife (no, no don't think about it), none of them really strong enough to do anything but just momentarily notice. Weird, that’s how he feels: split between rejoicing at that feeling of freedom that only grows by the hour and debating coming back to Lil to apologize, without the willpower to do either. Afraid of the implications of either, really.

Subconsciously devastated or not, work is always his preferred distraction―it's so easy to get lost, become mechanical in thought and nonexistent in presence. The pieces of the magnetic generator fly delicately through the air during the assembly, and that's beautiful. It's enough to allow him to become unfocused; that's what he needs.

So, when Danger finally speaks to him, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes blink hard as if awoken by daydream. But, he turns to her―she knows everything, there's no need for prelude―looking a little tired and confused and vague, setting the components back down on the bench and surrounding area.

Slowly: ]

Sure. Yeah, I'd like t'talk. [ An off, stilted breath. ] I'm sorry y'had t'hear... all a' that, D.

Your apology is unnecessary.
I am the person least victimized by these circumstances.

[ Her tone isn't particularly sympathetic, but it rarely is. The fact that she's asking though, that means more than her unreadably clinical voice-- that, and her visible attentiveness, the way she focuses on him with her unwavering stare. Danger pauses, considering him before she asks plainly: ]

What will you do now?

[ His fingers move to tap on the edge of the table. ]

I―ah. Maybe, but y'still deserve somethin'.

[ Looking straight back into her eyes―now, without a semblance of guilt or uncertainty―Madison's mouth shifts, thoughtful. All of this feels like an out-of-body experience; he should feel complete devastation, rather than the cool disconnection setting under his eyelids, his mind. ]

I guess I'll just be livin' like I was the moment a'fore I was plucked here. Back home, 'cuz―nothin' has changed.

[ A shrug, then vaguely: ]

Everythin's back t'normal. And. I'll live here, so. Y'know.

[ Danger pauses, like she's considering the merits of contesting what he's just said-- like she doesn't really believe it, that things have returned to whatever semblance of normalcy existed before Lillian came, but she doubts much would be gained from arguing that point. Not now, anyway. As contained as it all seems, she suspects he's fragile. Though to her, he always has been, in one way or another.

Out loud, at length: ]

Acknowledged.

[ Then, a smaller pause. ]

Are you certain you wish to stay here?
This facility is not particularly designed to be comfortable as a long-term residence.

[ There's this little realization that his head really, really hurts, but the awareness of the ache goes and disappears just like everything else. Dwelling seems like the most dangerous thing of all, so. He doesn't.

Quickly, immediately―maybe even brashly, because he can't seem to moderate either himself or what he's thinking: ]

Naw, comfort ain't important. I just want t'be useful again.

[ Off handedly, without a thought: ]

'Sides, it's comfortable enough bein' near you.

[ Her answer, by contrast, comes only after another light pause, calculated and calm, with nothing betrayed by her passive expression. ]

I am sympathetic to your desire to be useful, Madison Jeffries.
But to be frank, you have recently experienced an event that may have been emotionally traumatic.
You should take time to maintain your physiological and mental health.

[ She picks up one of the components from the magnetic generator as she talks, her attention briefly turning to it as she inspects the part. ]

Your behavioral patterns indicate a tendency to neglect yourself when you are unhappy.

D. [ Imploringly, he presses his finger to his temple. ] I don't feel unhappy.

[ No, Madison feels floaty. There's something simmering deep inside his chest, but anything concrete―he can barely tell, he just doesn't know.

It's going to burst out, and he's almost certain, he's waiting for it. It's going to drive him crazy and then he'll have an outburst and god knows how but he's probably going to do something stupid and/or hurt a few people like the xⁿ times he has. But he can pretend he won't. That's what he'll do. ]

I'm happier here, with you. I―don't need rest.

[ Her attention is back on him now, even as her fingers move, making a small adjustment to the part in her hands in a way that might have been called absent in a human being but is more automatic with her than anything else. Her voice comes out clinical, straight-forward. ]

That statement is fundamentally inaccurate.
For you, and for any human being.

[ She pauses to set that adjusted part back down on the work bench, leaning to carefully brush his hand away from his face. It's a consoling gesture, more learned than instinctive. ]

I am satisfied that you are here with me.
But I am not convinced that you are alright.

[ When she brushes his hand away, his palm turns to loosely grasp her hand. That's instinct; Madison barely notices what's around him, or what she's doing to the component. Keeping his head straight feels impossible. ]

Well, I can't sit around now 'til I know I'm okay. I can't―

[ Now, there's something rising in that pit in his chest. He's leaning towards Danger, just far enough that they're nearly face-to-face over the bench.

A look of frightened desperation crosses across his features. ]

I don't think I can be alone.

[ She sees the fear in his face. Senses it, through the microchip in his brain. Her systems respond with a powerful feeling of protectiveness. The fingers in the hand he's holding go from loose to curled. ]

You will not be alone.

[ There's something tense and strong in her face. Determination, or stubbornness, or something else. Possessiveness, maybe. ]

You are my primary emotional asset.
I am capable of fulfilling whatever functions are required to satisfy your emotional needs.

[ Madison doesn't know whether to be grateful―god, he is, he's so lucky she didn't leave, that she still loves him like he loves her―or unsettled by the way she words it. It's about (going to be about, they'll do it right) equality, not one of them bending backwards for another. He doesn't want that anymore. ]

It ain't about satisfyin' my needs, o-or. Y'shouldn't think like that.

[ Lil flashbacks are already popping into his head as parallels. No, no, he doesn't want to remember; they're purged, gone. ]

If y'wanna just be there for me. Please.

[ There are other memories. One otherwise unwelcome one catches his mind's eye; his hand tightens hard around Danger's. An idea, blooming. ]

[ There's a processing pause where she watches him steadily, considering what he's said to her. In her head, there are already small recalibrations happening, little adjustments in her code-- her emotional definitions, the relevant binary-- to incorporate what he's told her. Asked of her.

Her head tilts slightly, that attentive gaze drifting to where his hand holds tightly onto hers before coming back to rest on his face. ]

I do wish to be there for you.
That has been one of my primary objectives since I realized your emotional importance to me.

That's. Good, I'm glad.

[ There's not much Madison can say when he's suddenly struck by a feeling, the sensation that he was missing Danger when she was there all along. Out of all of them, she's been ultimately the most selfless, the most benevolent; a perfect machine, despite her flaws and her own inpulses. Similarly, he feels a tinge of regret at his previous absence.

Maybe he can make up for it. Maybe he can make things better than they were before. ]

What d'you think about symbiosis?

[ It's an odd question, even coming from him; but he can't, can't get it out of his mind since the last moment it arrived. His head bows a little, toward her. ]

[ Something vaguely pensive crosses her expression. She tilts her head at him in a considering way-- another learned, human-like gesture, one she purposefully uses to show thoughtfulness in her body language-- taking a moment to turn that peculiar question over in her processing unit a few times, wrapping her mind around the various possibilities of what he could mean.

At length, she speaks aloud, looking at him intently: ]

Symbiosis: An instance of persisting cooperation or intimate union between two dissimilar organisms.

[ She pauses lightly. It's almost curious, when she asks: ]

Are you suggesting symbiosis between us?

[ When he looks back at Danger's inquisitive gaze, Madison's eyes come off brighter, more inspired than before. ]

I think I am.

[ A pause, where he's turning the concept around in his mind. The recollection of thriving in the sense of unity and being part of a whole rather than a ruined part―no matter how horrific the experience was, that feeling was something more. ]

It seems like a good idea t'me. We could make it work, couldn't we?

[ A breath of hope feels stuck in his chest: anxious, excited. ]

Theoretically, yes.

[ Her initial answer comes without hesitation. The technical aspect of it doesn't require much skepticism-- truthfully, between the two of them, there aren't many things that are technologically impossible, given enough time and resources. But this is much more than an issue of hardware or software.

Maybe it's her logical, calculating nature-- maybe it's just the fact that she's inorganic that prevents her from expressing the same nervous excitement. Her voice is smooth and steady when it comes again. ]

I am receptive to this concept.
However, you must be aware of the commitment such a system would require from you.
It would not be as simple as your microchip, and not so easily disabled, should you change your mind.

[ Madison has to consciously take a long breath, slow that thought process, try to hold onto fleeting logic and think about it, really consider the consequences. Danger might be mentally powerful, but so easily compromised; he's worse. Maybe this could end badly, if it happened.

It's not enough to dissuade him. ]

I can't think a' any reason why I would change my mind.

[ And his fingers tangle with hers. ]

I love you.

[ There it is, the emotional-logical conflict she always seems to have when it comes to this one human being. She could calculate the probability of the various ways this entire idea could go wrong-- she could simulate scenarios, make equations, run tests. She should, before agreeing. Self-modification of that level isn't something to be taken lightly.

Trusting a human to that level isn't something to be taken lightly.

Danger knows humans. She knows they're unreliable, treacherous, prone to whims, emotionally driven-- she knows. But she thinks she knows that Madison means it too, when he says that he loves her. It somehow makes the risk worth taking, lets the emotional part of her programming override its logical counterpart.

Finally, the verdict: ]

I am willing to engage in the necessary modifications whenever you are ready to pursue it.

[ Something in his chest unknots, and Madison suddenly feels okay. More okay than what he's felt in a long time, at least.

Danger is the one being, machine or organic, he unequivocally, certainly adores and loves. Without any exception―he's looking at her, grateful. ]

Alright. I―think I know what t'do, but once I make a plan...

[ There's a distinct undercurrent of apprehension that accompanies that joy, too, at the thought of losing a sense of self for this―or worse, that feeling of nonexistence that took him the last time he combined his mind with a machine's. They wouldn't go so far (no, no that'd be awful.) but he wonders. Worries if the process of linking to an organic mind would be enough to injure her mechanical processes, irreparably damage her consciousness.

Gently: ]

I can't guarantee you the process won't be horrifyin'.

[ She's considered it, the possibility of the damage she could suffer-- of course she has-- but if she's afraid or worried, it doesn't show in her passive expression. Everything about her seems so steady, unwavering. ]

I am aware of the possible negative outcomes.
These are risks I am willing to take.

[ Nothing could be more painful than the lonely emptiness of her enslavement as the Danger Room. And even if it failed, even if she was damaged beyond repair, it was a choice she was making for herself. Something she was willing to endure as a consequence of a decision made of her own free will. That, in and of itself, has meaning. ]

There is no better team for this undertaking than you and I, Madison.

[ He finds comfort in her strength, her steadfastness―idly wondering if this endeavor would change that quality at all, just in him being exposed to her emotional workings. It isn't a bad thing, just personal, close; no longer being as much of a witness to her mystery.

Chuckling, his hand gives their grip a fond little shake. ]

We are a pretty good team.

[ This feeling of completion, being settled without turmoil or sacrifice. All of it feels so unfamiliar, like it's been an eon and a half since the last time Madison has ever felt like this. He's not so afraid, now. ]

Neither of us has t'be alone. Not anymore.

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