revivalproject | And look at me, I'm tattered

Entry tags:

And look at me, I'm tattered

WHO: York & Open
WHERE: York's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations event
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: York's room has the potential to bring up the following situations: gaslighting/manipulation, abuse, gun violence, death, and assault. The items are labeled with warnings.

Waiting Room Post
Mingle Post

Calibrations Room

The room is a workshop that has seen better days. Once a sterile, almost hospital like room, with a black, pleather covered chair for android repairs. Now, the room is ripped apart. Cables and wires have been ripped apart or unplugged from exposed panels, electricity sparking from live ends. The chair is broken in numerous pieces and thrown about the room, covered in oil, grease, and blue blood. There's broken parts, both mechanical and biocomponents, littered about. On the walls in that same blue blood is "I AM ALIVE" painted by hand in a large, bold, Helvetica font. The floor is wet. Shell casings glint in the light from above.

On the floor are items: a black NYC hoodie that smells earthy; a fireman's hatchet caked in blue and red blood [cw: gun violence, death]; a news tablet with a line about robotic parenting [cw: gaslighting, abuse]; and a pamphlet of Bryant Park’s 191st anniversary ripped midway [cw: assault, physical violence against human and android].

Around the items are some wires that haven't been destroyed, and all of them lead into the back of an older looking and taller York, who is curled up on the floor surrounded by the objects. There’s thirium covering his hands. The wires weave around the items, but don't touch them. He is shirtless, with his knees drawn up to his chin to hide himself. He wears black sweatpants as his only clothing.

The whole room feels isolated, full of fear, and strangely enough: it feels too small.

Upon seeing another enter his mind, York is immediately aggressive. "What are you doing in here?! Ģ̡͝E̸̵T̴̢͠ ̶̴̸O̴̧UT̴́͟!̸̨!̴͘" York gets to his feet - his LED is swirling red, throwing light against the open section of his chest next to it where his thirium pump beats. The android moves quick, as though to try getting to the intruder, but the wires seem to reel in, snap taut, and pull him back towards the wall he’s written on. It’s then apparent that York is too big for the room, with his hair almost brushing the ceiling. There's no hiding the fear in his expression as he struggles for freedom the cables aren’t giving. Realizing the vulnerable state, York relaxes and turns away from his intruder, with those tight wires loosening around him. It shows the wires going into the open panels of his back now, hooking somewhere deep within the machinery that moves and gives him life. York wraps his arms around his chest, ducking his head down. His open interior section pulses blue like a heartbeat.

"I̸͠ţ's̶̡ ņ̀̕o̸̶t̸̡ s͘͝u͡p̷p҉ós͏̕͘ed͘ ͟͞t̨̨o ̨͜h̵̸̛u̶͞͞r͜t́́," he whispers angrily, though the room is small enough that the other would be able to hear it anyways. "D̕͜͡ò̷n̨̡'ţ̕ ̡h͜u͢ŗ͜t̢͠͞ ̴͝me̢͟"

_{[I'll be using a different set of icons for the older version of York in replies, but that face doesn't apply outside of the calibration room. ~Xi]}

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He didn't know this person. York sifts through his files of people he's met trying to place her. Nothing comes up. "But yet you're in here, in the only space I have LEFT!" The android doesn't fully understand why this upsets him. The cables around him move, threatening to pull him back again.

"…just… I can't… I̸ ̶d̸o̶n̴'̷t̶—" He wanted his hoodie. It would be too small but he needs it. But it's too far from him, too close to her. York seems to settle, turning enough to look at his "guest" over his shoulder.

"W͏͜h͘͞o͞ ͏҉a͏̢r̢̧e͘ ̷y̸o͏u̡?̢" A pause and he turns fully now to face her. "How ̀di̸d͝ you̡ get͜ ͏in̕ ̡h̶e͠r͏e?̀ ̢M͘y…̷my͟ ͟p̵r͠o̵gr̸am̨m͠ing͝ i̢s̕ lo̴cked.̶"

"I did not choose to come here," she repeats, hands up in what she hopes is a placating gesture.

"I am Lauri-Ell. Who are you?"

Lauri-Ell. York knows that name. He scowls. Blinks. A translucent window appears before him, scrolling text as he reads it. "Lauri-Ell. Clearly." Repeating back one of her texts to him.

Some of the aggression seems to drop from him. Instead, York just looks like a scared person instead of one out for blood. "I'm York. York Stark. We messaged each other a lot the day the network fucked up."

York looks to the writing he had done on the wall. A reminder, in case somehow he forgot. "Both of us have blue blood."

Teal eyes go back to her. "Sorry it's small in here."

Ah yes, that day. Lauri-Ell, still bent over in pain, shifts. The only thing she can do is work to sit down. It's the safest way to deal with the pain in her back.

"Yes it does. This worries me, seeing yours around here. Have you sought to cause yourself harm? Do you wish to speak of it?"

She's dealing with the small all on her own thanks.

York knows that if the room doesn't fit him properly, then she must be hurting. There's nothing to offer to her though, no larger foyer for her to hang out in. "I just use it as a reminder. When my own memories," and he motions to the items between them, "try to remind me that there a lot of people that think I'm not."

York slides against the cabling of his mind, pulling his knees back up to his chin. "I…I can't hurt this shell. This model. It's the only one I have. My actual shell is lost. I can't get another. I'm… trapped."

The android scrubs his hand over his face, trying to keep it together. A pump that worked to sound like a heart, unregulated emotions, a cooling system to vent through his mouth. All that and no artificial tear ducts to cry. York didn't know if he should be thankful or angry about it.

"Do you need a hug?"

Because hugs, Lauri-Ell has found, have a great healing power. Clearly he is in need of one.

Does he want a hug? Maybe. York's not certain. It felt like any time a human had gotten that close, the android was reminded of pain and fear. It's that thought that has him shaking his head. He wanted it, but the idea of letting someone hurt him here, where no one was supposed to get in except his family, keeps him from accepting it.

"I can't get over there anyways," he bullshits. Again the android looks to her. "So...so don't worry about it."

A pause. "...I'm... I'm sorry I yelled when you got here. Only my family can get in here like that. Like you did I guess." If it were up to York though, only one of the other four would be able to access York's head like this.

"I could come over there to hug you," she counters. This was something she could give him. If he but wanted it.

But she didn't know what was happening either.

"I do not wish to be doing this. It feels... invasive."

Honestly, York wasn't certain if a tight embrace would do the same for him as it did for humans. That full contact with pressure to help ease their minds. But it was too dangerous, this close to his mind.

"I can't... I can't, there's-- you might--" He seems to curl up tighter, sparks firing from the wires around him as the programming goes to war with itself about what he wants. York isn't even supposed to want anything--

"No, no, I want the embrace--" He takes a moment, eyes roving around the destroyed room.

"I'm scared."

Ah, well then. She rises once more, and it's awkward to walk forward bent over as she is, but she makes her careful way over.

"Then I shall give you a hug. They felt good when my sister gave me them when I was scared."

York frowns as he watches her move. "You can crawl if you want. Can't do any worse than I've already done." He glances at some of the destroyed panels and the workshop chair. York presses a hand to his eyes, hiding his vision for a long moment. Works his system through the fear that was churning through his system.

"Fuck," he whispered, then the android moved, pushing the items out of her way as he moved to at least meet her halfway. If he went too far or got aggressive again, the programming would pull him back in. "I was lured down here following my brother--" 'the one who saved me' don't make it out of his audio output, "because I thought he was hurt."

Once she was close enough she went down on her knees. THis was the best she could do.

"I was following my sister."

Not even the Emperor, or the Prince. Carol. She missed Carol so much. "She needed me."

York was... cautious. Usually he wouldn't think twice about his actions, or the consequences that would follow, but he was now. Lauri-Ell had more power here in his head than the android did. She could damage areas before he could get to her, and she could leave. Wasn't she trustworthy enough at least for this?

Despite working to convince himself of this, York's thirium-covered hand was shaking as it touched hers carefully. In case the touch wasn't wanted and she lashed out. The thoughts started to turn towards a memory. The park pamphlet crumpled and the sparks happened again. The hand started drawing away.

"No, no-- no, it's going to huŕt, ̵you'̀r͏e ̸g̷oing t̶o hu҉r̛t m̡e͞-̸-͢"

No, this wasn't going to earn lashing out. She reaches and moves to pull the man into her arms.

"Do not fear. If this is not our bodies, then you cannot do me true harm. Only yourself, only your heart."

And she would not wish that for you.

There's an indignant noise - one he will deny later at all costs - as she pulls the smaller man to him to embrace him. He's tense, waiting for the panels to be pried open, the parts to be pulled out-

-and it doesn't come. Instead it's just the warm pressure of another being holding him close. And it didn't hurt.

It didn't hurt.

"Fuck." It's all he can whisper as he holds her with a tight, almost clawing grip. Like she's about to be torn away. His voice comes in a whisper, spoken like secrets. "This is supposed to be my body. And then people hurt the one I'm in outside of here. Pulled me apart and called me plastic."

"Whether your parts are of synthetic creation or not does not change you being a person," Lauri-Ell pointed out. She's embracing him as tightly as she can, letting him do whatever he must do for his peace.

"Your body is a good body. They are both good bodies, because they are both yours. Perhaps you like one more than the other, but is it not more important that you do with it as your will desires?"

York feels the hard pressure and he swears he shorts out for a moment as his programming conflicts about it. It felt good, but this kind of pressure was related to bad things he had already experienced. His nails dig in harder, and he's not certain (or maybe doesn't care in this moment) if he's hurting Lauri-Ell or not.

York tucked his face against her shoulder, heaving air in and out of his system despite not needing to breathe. "My will wants to be back in my actual body," he whispers, voice muffled.

"If your actual form pleases you more, then that is understandable. Perhaps we can find a means by which to bring this about."

Would that be possible? Lauri-Ell would try hard to give it to him.

York tries to turn without pulling away, but the anchoring wires in his system make it difficult. Awkward. So he pulls away. The android concentrates for a moment, pushing away the panel that revealed his texts to Lauri-Ell before pulling up a new one. Widens it as what looks like news feed plays.

The CEO of Stark Technologies, Antonio Stark, has survived an attack at his personal Malibu home hours ago, the invisible reporter announced. It showed the smoldering ruins of the mansion at the cliffside, with another chunk of what was probably a workshop missing. Helicopters were hovering about like bees in an attempt to get more juicy details, more clickbait images to lure people in for the views. Mr. Stark has refrained from answering any questions, but that he is handling the situation with his assistant Gervais...

The news report looped, and York dropped the volume. "...My body was in the workshop when this happened. And it got destroyed and sits in the ocean in ruins." He stared at the muted, looping feed. He had been in shock when it happened, knowing what it meant then as it did now. And worse was, Antonio didn't make it a priority in rebuilding it.

He pushes the panel away and it disappears.

Ah. That was... horrible. Lauri-Ell shifted to try and get more comfortable as she reviewed the thing.

A bad choice because as she did so, her leg brushed against the discarded hoodie.

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."

"What does that mean, deviated?"

That's what she holds onto, the question that made no sense to her. Clearly damage was done to him and he did not deserve this. But the rest of it is a mystery to her.

"Androids, either being programmed by Cyberlife, or like from Stark Technologies, have a program they follow. Like telling a calculator to add two plus two. That's all they're supposed to do. There's a line of obedience with it, with being an android. You are told to do something by a human, you do it. Your programming doesn't let you do anything else." He sighs and leans back. York feels so tired. The actual definition comes up in his view and York rattles it off.

"Deviancy is commonly regarded as a malfunction of the machine, usually caused by processing error or a virus. It is viewed as a threat to human safety. Androids that deviate from their programs are viewed as a threat in my world and are either reprogrammed or straight up dismantled. Hell, they made an android to hunt down deviants."

He looks to the hoodie she had touched, an unreadable expression on his face. "If I hadn't gone off of my intended programming, Lauri-Ell, I probably wouldn't be here right now to meet you," either through the network by accident or in his head.

York reached to the side and opened a new panel. It grew tall enough to fill the height of the wall, leaving a dark doorway. "That's... that's the way out. I'm sorry how I greeted you. But..."

He pauses and his face scrunches up a little. "...Thanks for listening to me, Lauri-Ell."

"You are like me," she observes when he explains deviancy. But she doesn't explain how. Not yet. The door has arrived, and it seems like she must go now.

"I shall depart now, as to give you your space back. But you should seek me. We must speak on how we deviate from what is expected of us. And how this does not make us less."

York looked...surprised to hear that they were similar. He hadn't been expecting that. He had to stop thinking in androids vs. everyone else. Bucky was similar to him, but not an android. So that meant Lauri-Ell could be like him and not mechanical. "I'll look like that smaller android, that you saw in the memory," he pipes up, not knowing that she may or may not remember when they were awake.

The android himself might not remember this encounter, but at least he had some idea of who she was.

"I will. And... I'll try not to be..." A pause as he thought about it. "...I'll try not to be an asshole."

York goes back to his original position when she first arrived: curled up on the floor to wait his cramped solitude again.

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kree_soldieress - 2022-05-16 16:42 (UTC) - Expand

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