revivalproject | [Video]

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_{[The feed shows York with a dilapidated backdrop of a factory room where he's been staying. His brows are furrowed like he's angry but it's just a front. He's nervous. But this needs to be requested because if something bad happens...

Better to just be blunt and get it over with.]}

I need parts made. Not just like, regular standard grade parts that you'd find in a computer or whatever fucking bullshit we want to compare this to. Like, delicate and small parts. Even better if we can make bio-component parts.

_{[He didn't even bother introducing himself because there's been enough mixups so far and he doesn't want more.

The feed goes chaotic for a long moment, showing blurs as it moves. There's soft whirring and hissing that can be heard before the camera focuses on a section of opened mechanics. There's fine metal and plastic of engineering on display, with inner workings moving together. Blue glows and moves through clear silicone tubing like veins.]}

This shit is tough to ask for but I don't have the means to make them myself. But if something breaks, that's gonna be a bad time.

_{[The camera moves to blur the view again before York's face appears again.]}

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"Says the one lurking about in my home," York snaps back just as hard. He's getting closer to whomever the voice is attached to. He might've been less aggressive if this person had knocked or even opened the door to shout 'hello', but the fucker took a look at his message and decided 'well that's an open invitation if I ever saw one!'

Fucking humans.

"I asked for help in replicating parts, not for uninvited guests. And you hiding isn't going to really warm me up to the idea of showing you what I did on the network, so why the fuck don't you just show yourself because if I find you in your hiding spot, it's not going to be a good time for you."

An empty threat, but this guy doesn't know that. Hopefully.

It's a surprisingly effective bluff, given what information Dustin has about York. He knows about the android's foul temper, now both from secondary sources and first-hand experience. He knows that York is robotically enhanced to some significant degree; Dustin's only seen the artificial parts in the original message and placed them as belonging to York via a quick spy-hop by the window where he was recording, so he has no details on how extensive that is, or how much stronger and faster that makes him.

Finally - and most importantly - York's fucking right. Dustin genuinely did not anticipate that the factory would be the guy's house; rather, he had figured it to be a staging area, or at most a frequented workshop. He refuses to communicate via the network for fear that the Agrii (or other rogue elements) could be tracking his movements or plans from his messages. Similarly, announcing himself before walking into what could have been a trap seemed like an even worse idea than getting caught. Having York spell it out for him, though, makes Dustin see just how suspicious all of this is.

...Yeah, he considers, feeling his face grow hot. I wouldn't trust me, either.

There's a significant pause. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, Dustin stands up and scuttles his way around the barrels he was hiding behind, placing himself between them and the exit with his hands raised, palms out. The small, scraggly-haired teenager hardly looks like a threat; he's unarmed (unless York wants to count the bundle of kindling sticks secured on his back with a couple of sweaters), and his expression is notably sheepish rather than irritated like his voice would suggest.

Does not seem to stop him being a petulant ass, though. "Fine, fucking fine," Dustin hisses. "You got me. Didn't know you lived in this dump. You should really put a sign up or something."

Bad temper? York? No, say it isn’t so. He doesn’t realize his attitude has given him a bit of a reputation at this point, doesn’t know that Dustin has already heard about him. He supposed that’s the consequences of his actions after being in the city for only a couple of months.

When Dustin comes out from behind the barrels, York is only three feet away on the other side and looks very unimpressed. In fact, he looks very annoyed at the entire situation. The android is only a little taller than this human and he crosses his arms over the black hoodie. There’s a white motif of a city and NYC printed on it.

"Putting up a sign just invites more intruders like a challenge. Ever think of sending a message to ask if I wanted company?" comes the huff. He sighs and rubs his face in a very human gesture. Human for someone that has teal eyes that match the glow Dustin saw earlier. "All of this sneaking around shit and you probably still want to see the fucking parts right? Up your alley you said?"

Dustin remains silent, keeping his green eyes level with York's strange teal ones. He doesn't necessarily disagree with the android's assessment of signs, and he doesn't feel like he needs to justify his network usage (or lack thereof). Neither topic bears dwelling on when they could instead focus on The Task.

"Something like that," Dustin ventures, quirking an eyebrow. Part of him is genuinely surprised that York hasn't kicked him out yet, but that same part is also telling him not to look a gift horse in the mouth. "I've built and modified tech like this before. Smaller scale, but similar end goals. Bioengineering and shit."

A beat. Dustin takes a sudden step back, looking defensive.

"--Not that I think I'm entitled to poke around in there or anything," he says quickly. What, like he wasn't entitled to poke around York's house? Never mind. His tone is oddly earnest, besides - a stark contrast to the flippant, blustery snark of their earlier conversation. This is important to him. "They're your parts. I'm just offering myself as a resource. You don't want anything to do with me--cool, whatever, I'll fuck off."

"Yeah This is big scale. How do you plan on manufacturing the parts I’ll be needing?" He shoves his hands into his pockets, the scowl still set in his face. "And you’re right, you’re not entitled to poke around in the tech and I won’t let you."

He huffs, shifting on his feet and looking away. "I’m really defensive and untrusting of letting people help because it’s a matter of literal life or death for me."

York looks back to the intruder with… well the scowl is still there but not as severe. "What kind of world do you come from." Less of a question and more of a demand for the information. the android wants to know what kind of person he was dealing with here.

Dustin can't help but feel just a little disappointed at York's insistence that he isn't allowed to get a closer look at his cool robot arm guts. The majority of his motivation for sticking his neck out and traveling to the factory at all was driven by intense curiosity - the recognition of something familiar, yet altogether far more complicated than anything he could have built in the time he had on Earth. But he also understands why he's not allowed. York's explanation for being cautious is painfully familiar too, after all.

What I would've done to have the same basic human decency shown to me...

Naturally, Dustin doesn't outwardly acknowledge any of this. Far too uncomfortable. Instead he mirrors York's awkward shuffling, shoving a hand through his hair and staring at the wall past the android's head, until they return to discussing the job.

"There's enough manufacturing equipment scattered around here to refurbish or break down into usable scrap," he offers. "Been scouting out the higher-quality ones, tools, salvageable parts, for...about a week now. I could accelerate that timetable if you need something quickly."

Dustin shrugs, folding his arms with a light frown.

"The resources aren't ideal, but I'm used to working in suboptimal conditions. Most of the equipment the Agrii left to rot is more advanced than anything in the best labs where I'm from, anyway, so I can't complain too much." A pause, as Dustin notes that 'where I'm from' needs elaborating on. "That's, uh--Earth. 2007. Tech like what you've got definitely isn't widely available, but the R&D department I, ah..."

The teenager now looks decidedly uncomfortable as he searches for the right words.

"...worked with. We were developing implants and artificial limbs approaching a similar level of complexity."

This guy looks to be the same age as this shell he’s currently inhabiting, but he comes with all the mannerisms of a socially awkward teenager he had glimpses of in his world. "I don’t need anything quickly, really. Just want to get small surplus of parts for me in case something happens. There’s no repair shops, nothing like where I would go," or steal from, "here so I’m taking some precautions."

York looks thoughtful for a moment. It would be a risk, letting a stranger poke around, but maybe beneficial if he was already working on the rudimentary version of his technology. "I’m from 2038. Detroit, New York City, and Malibu are all places I call home."

He moves away from Dustin so he can lean against a wall. "My name is York. I am the tech. Every bit of me. An android manufactured and developed by Stark Technologies in my world." He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket, regarding the other. If this kid came after him, he had the advantage of knowing the layout of the factory and precision of programming and mechanics. Probably be able to lock himself in somewhere too.

Familiar city names, future timelines - neither of those get a noteworthy reaction out of Dustin until York spells out that he's an android. Then his eyes widen and glitter with keen interest, and his mouth involuntarily curls into a wide, enthusiastic grin.

"...That's cool as fuck," the boy breathes.

His head is buzzing with questions--Are androids common in his time? Are they all so human-like in mannerisms? Is his core programming based on an existing template, or is this all organic AI?--but thankfully for York, he manages to quash all of them. Even Dustin can recognize when his earnest curiosity might not be in the best taste, especially with someone that was threatening to forcibly remove him from the room just a couple of minutes ago.

Stay on topic. Dustin shakes his head slightly, trying to school his expression. Guy gave you his name, right? It's a trade. Pay up.

"--Ah. I'm Dustin. Silver." He chews on the name oddly, like he's not used to saying it (because he's not), scuffing his feet against the factory floor as he fumbles over his words. "I've never met--well that's fucking obvious isn't it?" Dustin drags a hand down his face and tries not to scream into it. "--Never mind. That's a lot of possible parts to build. Are there any that you need prioritized?"

That glittering interest sets York on a defensive edge again. He's seen a glitter like that before, in three drunken men's eyes with the same sort of grin. His eyes harden at that memory, hands going flat against his abdomen even though Dustin can't see it.

All he's doing is just watching the human, seeing if he'll get a name in return. Maybe fucking send him on his way after that and have him come back some other day. Invited. But the guy still looks awkward as hell, selling that teenager aesthetic or something.

"Biocomponents mostly. Which is something I don't think the Agrii will understand enough to replicate." York does a very human looking thing and sighs as he scowls at a wall. The android's come this far with it. He'll just punch the kid if he tries to touch. The hoodie comes off, revealing that glow from under his black shirt again. It would be easier if he took the shirt off too, but that scowl melts into... apprehension. He's nervous and York can't hide it. He hates that.

Dustin can admit to being terrible at reading and responding to people's emotions, but there's no escaping just how uncomfortable York looks about all of this. The combined anxiousness between these two could be cut with a knife. So he does what he's been doing for most of this conversation: Focus on the job to avoid discussing their feelings.

"Right--biocomponents. You mentioned those in your message." Dustin's eyes flicker to the vibrant teal glow spilling from underneath York's shirt (Matches the color of the liquid in his arm. Central power source? Heart analogue? Aesthetics?), though otherwise he remains frozen from where he left the safety of the barrels. Too nervous to approach, too invested to leave. "I don't think that word means the same thing to me that it means to you. Can you give me an example? Or show me one?"

"Critical parts for androids. Like vital organs for humans. Thirium pump and regulator that acts like a heart. Optical units, audio processors, the LED in my chest, and my CPU." The explanation probably isn’t enough though. Things of this nature are usually accompanied by visuals to give people a better idea of what they were looking at.

Another frown. The thirium pump would be the most obvious but York wasn’t ready for that kind of step. Instead, York gestures for Dustin to come closer. "Don’t fucking touch me, or I’ll make you regret it."

It’s not clear if that’s an empty threat or not.

But there’s a change, visually. The skin of his face seems to melt away, hair retracting back until the white shell is visible underneath, like a white doll. York turns his head, and behind his ear is a opening with a small blinking component plugged into it.

"Audio processor, as an example."

Dustin nods along, although he's mentally coming to a similar conclusion that York is. So not a single base component, then...that makes things more complicated. I'll need to know the requirements for each one and how they fit into the rest of his machinery and programming, at a minimum. Not to mention how they process this Thirium stuff.

Thankfully York takes the initiative there. Dustin takes his threat seriously, raising his hands slightly in another deescalating gesture before, cautiously, approaching the android's side. Getting uncomfortably close is unavoidable; the audio processor is small, and Dustin needs a visual on all angles of it. But he adheres to York's demands, keeping his arms folded in front of him while he leans around his back, stands on his toes for a top view. He's quietly thankful that the human-like shell fades away as cleanly as it does, since otherwise this would be a lot more difficult.

The whole process takes less than a minute of silent observation. Then he steps back.

"--Okay, got it," Dustin says with a curt nod. "I can make you something with the right dimensions and seating. I'll need more details about its exact functions and interfacing properties, obviously. Would it be too optimistic to ask if you could flash its programming onto something? No blueprints?"

"Yeah, no way to share media from my system to an outside source without a computer that has a system that can handle technology like me." He sounded rather proud about that. Yes, let him break all of the antique computing devices. He makes a little face. "You need to know an audio processor's exact function? Figured that was kinda spelled out in the name."

He rolls his eyes.

Now the white shell shifts and moves, with soft whirring and humming as the panels open and reveal the inner workings around the processor for Dustin to see. It also shows all of the intricacies within, with that soft glow again of thirium pumping through his system. "The only one who has the blueprints for me is in my world, and even if I asked, Duncan wouldn't hand them over so easily to someone I just met."

Dustin rolls his eyes back at him. "Smartass," he grumbles, though it lacks any real bite; he's too interested in looking around the now revealed internals of the side of York's head to care that much. "Thought your hyper-advanced robot brain might be able to handle more than just the industry standard. But if that's what you want..."

He lets the idle threat trail off, clearly not invested enough to finish it. Every extra exposed inch of York's inner workings revealed to him is like a little treasure trove of knowledge - complex enough that he would've never thought to make it himself, yet familiar enough that he's confident he could replicate it.

If we ever make it back home... Dustin shakes his head to himself. ...No. I've got too much other shit to do.

"...It's not going to be an exact replica, then," he says, stepping away again. "Not that I could have made it exact with salvaged parts anyways. But I can at least get you something that works. You'll probably have to handle the coding, too - whatever drivers you have for your current set of biocomponents are definitely not gonna be directly compatible with what I build."

"Better to be a smartass android than a dumbass one." York stays still while the other inspects the section of open shell. The processor does look like a plug, with a black wire weaving around other sections and heading deeper where Dustin can't really see. The only sort of illumination is from the blue blood pulsing through the vinyl clear tubing.

"Industry standard appliances can't handle me. I'm a massive undertaking of hardware and software because I'm not a standard. I'm a custom made android from Stark Technologies of my world."

When Dustin steps away, York's panels close back up with the skin and hair being revealed once more to give him that human look once more. Aside from the LED in his chest and the unnaturally colored eyes, one might really have thought he was a full human instead of an android in disguise.

Dustin waves a hand at him in exaggerated dismissiveness. "Sure, whatever, you're a very special robot," he huffs--as if he wasn't just fawning over York's tech minutes ago, and is quietly filing away the fact that the 'Stark' name is showing up, yet again. Gotta maintain that image. "I'll slap some little racing stripe decals on it or something. That should do it."

Required snark out of the way, Dustin moves on. "Unless you have some spare parts lying around that I can take apart--and you obviously don't, or else I wouldn't be here--there's nothing to it but to build a prototype and see if it plays nice with you." He shrugs, then hurriedly adds, "--Obviously I wouldn't ask you to just plug it in, that'd be stupid. First steps are likely going to involve making an adequate test rig. I'll need your help with that, to make sure it's a close enough approximation of your operating conditions."

"Yeah I am a Special android," York snaps. "Better than being a stupid fucking meatsack." It’s out before he can filter it, eyes glaring again at Dustin. He was more than a fucking robot. Could that be considered an offensive term? Maybe.

"I’ve contacted someone about making some prototypes so I’m not experimented on because that’s not going to fucking happen. I’ve experienced that enough in my own world, seen other androids that had been so yeah. Not happening." He sobers up at the thought of that, mouth thinning into a tight line. "But I don’t know how it’ll go with this dude, so I’ll keep you in mind if it falls through."

Dustin balks a little at the jab, but otherwise doesn't comment on it because...well he kind of agrees with York on this one. The human body is brilliantly efficient in some ways and spectacularly inefficient in others. Dustin has experienced first-hand how inept his own dumb meatsack of a body could be without biomechanical augmentations. The fact that York sees him the same way is, therefore, not surprising - not like his offense at the term 'robot' is. Dustin genuinely didn't consider there to be much of a distinction. Now he files it away, yet another curiosity to hold onto in the back of his mind.

"--Yeah, I get it," Dustin cuts in. There's a part of him that wants to follow up on who else might be capable of building parts for an android from 2030's Earth, but that's drowned out by a sudden swell of emotion - righteous indignation. How dare York imply that he's going to experiment on him! "I've been there, asshole. No one else has to go through that. Shit's where I draw a line."

Dustin was still a stranger, and York didn’t know if he could trust someone like that after the human had broken into his factory. If he had no qualms about doing that, what else would Dustin be willing to do?

"Yeah fuck you, I don’t know you. You’ve already broken into my home thinking my network video was an open invitation who’s to say you won’t try for me?" York manages to keep his audio output steady, but there’s a fury in his eyes. "I’ve been experimented on by my own dad, torn apart by humans, seen what humans are willing to fucking do to people like me, so yeah, I’m gonna take every precaution to keep myself safe.

What started out as indignation quickly bubbles into simmering anger. Dustin can relate to a good chunk of this on a deeply personal level, which is weird and new to him in a not pleasant way. So rather than sympathizing with York about their shared trauma, he finds himself running hot, and he's not entirely sure why. Is he empathizing with York's obvious fury over his past abuse? Is he more angry that York doesn't seem to believe that he's gone through something similar? Is it retaliatory aggression from the lingering embarrassment at misjudging the situation and breaking into someone's house?

Maybe it's a little bit of all of those things. Doesn't matter - Dustin can't handle it. The boy's shoulders hunch further and his lips twitch into a harsh snarl as York continues berating him, until he finds the first opportunity to snap back.

"--I don't have to explain myself to you," he growls, voice quiet and tense. "I'd be a waste of both our times anyway. You've got what you wanted out of me."

Abruptly, Dustin spins on his heel and stomps for the door.

"You—" York glares at the other as he’s retorted back at. "You broke into my factory! What the fuck how did I waste your time when you let yourself in?! I put out a request for parts, not an invitation for a party at my place!" And yet Dustin had the audacity to make him look like the bad guy!

"I didn’t fucking ask for your goddamn life story, I was actually explaining why I don’t fucking trust humans so damn easily!" The android doesn’t move from his spot, his vision red as he watches the other stomp off towards the exit he used to get in earlier. "Am I wrong for trying to stay safe with someone I just fucking met?"

He couldn’t be wrong, right? The android frowns hard, face contorted with his own anger at Dustin‘s retreating figure. He thinks to himself, 'what would Markus want him to do?' York knows the exact answer to that question.

The next time he speaks, it’s quiet and he’s not looking at the human. "…Sorry." It’s a bit gritted out but it…sounds pretty sincere despite that.

York is absolutely right about everything, of course, but Dustin is too annoyed and angry and confused about both of those things to respond to any of them coherently. He does hear all of it, though - including the apology. He'll remember that.

...But he won't act on it right now. That would mean admitting that he's wrong. Instead he flips off York with both hands on his way out the door and slams it behind him.

York finally looks to Dustin, to see what the apology’s done to rectify the situation. His thirium seems to boil with rage as he’s flipped off instead and the door slam hangs in the air.

What the absolute fuck?!

"Don’t fucking come back!" He nearly screams at the closed door, not even caring if Dustin hears him or not. A hand size piece of rubble is picked up and thrown at the door, making a slight dent in it. "Fuck that, fuck this, fuck everything to do with that fucking shitshow!"

York storms over to the door and throws the lock in place. Hopefully that will keep any other unwanted guests out.

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