When Lauri-Ellbrushes against the hoodie, the change is immediate. His mindspace goes dark like the power being shut off, with only York's LED glowing. Then that shifts too, now more facing upwards as the lights come back on.
The new room is white, spotted with color from potted plants arranged neatly by the large picturesque windows that overlook what was clearly New York City. They are high up, in a skyscraper and unlike York's mind, this space was bigger. There's a hospital style bed near those plants and windows, with the Temba-York laying motionless in it. Next to him in a chair is a red haired man looking over a tablet that has numerous readings on it. Often his eyes - the same teal as York's - glance to the smaller android.
York is covered from his hips down by a blanket, leaving his waist and up exposed. Everything looks good except a section where his synthetic skin function is missing. It almost looks like scarring, and the exposed panels are dented from where human fingers clawed them open. York seems to come back online, looking to the other. The older man shifts and - oh. There's the same glow from his chest. Another android.
"York," he breathes out almost like a sigh of relief. Standing, a bag drops to his feet. "You're finally awake. When I found you in that alley two days ago—"
"Duncan." The small android pushed himself up to survey the repairs. "Fuck that wasn't a dream then. They really—"
Suddenly the bag made it from the floor to York's lap. "Here, I got this for you while you were in stasis." There's a brief, apologetic smile that York mirrors. "Damn, Duncan. Terrible timing as always, read a room."
"I thought it would help."
Out of the bag came a black hoodie, a little too big for him, with a white motif of the city screen-printed on the front with NYC above it. York's eyes light up and he shimmies into it. Neither android can smell it, but there's the smell of earthiness to it from the plants. Now in what would become his beloved hoodie, York shifts off of the bed and into his brother's lap to curl up there. Arms go around him to keep him secure.
"I was… so fucking scared, Duncan. And I deviated. I’m a deviant now. I had to deviate or they would have killed me." His breath shudders out of him, ragged and shallow.
His body was repaired.
But his programming would remember.
"I'll do my best to protect you, York."
The lights dim out again, and return to York's ruined mental area. He looks to his guest, to which York feels regret at how he had greeted her initially and yet she didn't seem to harbor any I’ll intent despite it.
"My middle brother, Duncan. Between the incident that cost me my body and leaving for Jericho, he did his best to keep me from getting hurt like that again. He's the only one I could really depend on in my family."
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The new room is white, spotted with color from potted plants arranged neatly by the large picturesque windows that overlook what was clearly New York City. They are high up, in a skyscraper and unlike York's mind, this space was bigger. There's a hospital style bed near those plants and windows, with the Temba-York laying motionless in it. Next to him in a chair is a red haired man looking over a tablet that has numerous readings on it. Often his eyes - the same teal as York's - glance to the smaller android.
York is covered from his hips down by a blanket, leaving his waist and up exposed. Everything looks good except a section where his synthetic skin function is missing. It almost looks like scarring, and the exposed panels are dented from where human fingers clawed them open. York seems to come back online, looking to the other. The older man shifts and - oh. There's the same glow from his chest. Another android.
"York," he breathes out almost like a sigh of relief. Standing, a bag drops to his feet. "You're finally awake. When I found you in that alley two days ago—"
"Duncan." The small android pushed himself up to survey the repairs. "Fuck that wasn't a dream then. They really—"
Suddenly the bag made it from the floor to York's lap. "Here, I got this for you while you were in stasis." There's a brief, apologetic smile that York mirrors. "Damn, Duncan. Terrible timing as always, read a room."
"I thought it would help."
Out of the bag came a black hoodie, a little too big for him, with a white motif of the city screen-printed on the front with NYC above it. York's eyes light up and he shimmies into it. Neither android can smell it, but there's the smell of earthiness to it from the plants. Now in what would become his beloved hoodie, York shifts off of the bed and into his brother's lap to curl up there. Arms go around him to keep him secure.
"I was… so fucking scared, Duncan. And I deviated. I’m a deviant now. I had to deviate or they would have killed me." His breath shudders out of him, ragged and shallow.
His body was repaired.
But his programming would remember.
"I'll do my best to protect you, York."
The lights dim out again, and return to York's ruined mental area. He looks to his guest, to which York feels regret at how he had greeted her initially and yet she didn't seem to harbor any I’ll intent despite it.
"My middle brother, Duncan. Between the incident that cost me my body and leaving for Jericho, he did his best to keep me from getting hurt like that again. He's the only one I could really depend on in my family."