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hypnothesis-au · 5 years ago

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A Double Act [Part 1]

It had been a long day. The finitely recorded seconds down to the decimal seemed stretched to impossible lengths, from the moment the Inkcarnival had opened that morning to now, with the sun close to setting and the evening's crowd beginning to disperse. Tartar had spent most of the morning begrudgingly humoring their bandmate to his thrill seeking and ""fun"". While the afternoon was spent wandering the amusements' layout up and down the streets of Inkopolis (to avoid him, mostly). The socially exhausted machine was more than ready to draw what they considered a waste of a day to a close. They'd rather have been working in the comforting solitude of their office.

They had considered sneaking off to do just that in Octavio's absence, but their one pause, or more accurately many haltings, had come from who all they had encountered around the carnival. A good handful of alternates-- once again, more multi-dimensional interaction they hadn't calculated for, and once again, it had left them with a lot to process. So they stayed, wandered around some more, tried not to think of what they usually cared little for and hated themself for doing it anyways.

From what the android had heard, however, the circus was due to close for the night within the hour, and they considered it more than fair enough to begin the war of an argument with their partner that it was time to leave. Tartar could only hope he wasn't in a mood for after-hours mischief, which to their misfortune, wasn't unusual. They probably could have just left him there if he desired to cause trouble strongly enough, but then again; potentially having to bail him out of said trouble for getting caught did not sound like an ideal late-night-to-early-morning endeavor… if he got to drag them there in the first place, they could drag him home just as well.

They relocated the DJ easily enough, somewhat near where they had originally slithered away for some time to themself, and approached stoically. They'd run out of motivation to lace the usual oversaturated disdain into their tone, and inquired simply, "Have you finally wore yourself out? The carnival is closing soon, and I've been ready to go since we got here."

Octavio took in a deep breath, the evening breeze scented with fried foods wafting cool through his mask. He was returning from playing carnival games with an inkling he met earlier that day. After stashing his prize in a locker, Octavio had left to search for his partner. “Sure thing, T. I’m ready ta go.” He paused, feeling the AI relax slightly. “But-” He added quickly, “After we do one more thing.” He pointed towards a glimmering ring in the distance, looming above most of the other attractions. “We gotta ride the ferris wheel.”

The gathering dusk allowed the carnival its full splendor, rides twinkled festively, lights flickering in patterns and arcs along steel supports. His request certainly wasn't as severe as they had worried it might be, though they still weren't thrilled to participate. Octavio would take no kind of denial as an answer-- even a solid, “I'll wait for you at the bottom.” On their part was met with an even more insistent, “You have to come with me.”

Perhaps, when they asked why, it didn't sound genuine enough to warrant his explanation; for he simply dragged them off for the umpteenth time that day without giving one. Worn down from the morning's bout of stubbornness, and distracted by the afternoon's reflection, they put up very little fight.

Once boarded upon the ferris wheel, the attraction in question began its slow rotation, sending the two drifting into the air-- and Tartar finally received their excuse; "You never haveta do it again." Octavio assured his partner, "But ya gotta ride a ferris wheel at least once 'n ya lifetime."

They exhaled at this, having already spun around the same conversation with him countless times earlier that day and unsure how they could word it yet again: machines are not people, they don't need fun, I am not entertained by this.

But the point seemed to be lost on the Octarian, he appeared convinced they'd find some attraction or another in the carnival that would pique their interest. They'd only managed to become more confused as the day progressed, clearly being amused by none. But he hadn't relented even after this fact became apparent. Why was that?

"I scarcely find myself applicable to the concept." Was their response after a long enough pause, moving to prop their arm under their chin and lean slightly over the side of the ferris wheel's booth. The android stared out to the sky, towards the receding blacktop beneath them, anywhere but at their bandmate. Maybe he'd stay quiet and they could pretend he wasn't there.

They still felt the urge to ask the questions that had been on their mind all afternoon, their inability to create a solid analysis of the point of it all was building an insufferable pressure on their processors. It certainly wasn't a conversation they wanted to get into here of all places, let alone discuss it at all-- sitting next to their confrontational companion without an exit was the least enticing situation to question why they were spending time on this in the first place.

They stressfully ran a thumb over their artificial eyebrow, resting it above the outer edge to hold down the twitch that had developed from a fluctuating magnetic field. They knew they needed to calm down, but, feeling helpless to their current position did very little to ease them-- they inhaled deeply, internal fans purring audibly with the strain of keeping their core at a safe temperature.

After getting far enough up in the air, people milling about on the ground below looked small. Distant. The amount of space it illusioned was moderately calming to the reclusive AI, the brief comfort of solitude perhaps just enough to get them through the simplistic but ever-dragging action of a ferris wheel ride. Allowing themself to relax somewhat, closing their eyes and burying their forehead into their palm, the most pressing question on their mainframe passed their vocal hardware before they could silence it, "Why did you bring me here…?"

Only after their own voice passed their ears did they remember, Octavio was still in fact sitting right next to them, and they were not speaking to the air. . . . A flit of static choked their quiet expression after the first letter, a habit that had become an apparent censorship of one swear or another. They hoped he would ignore their question, "Nevermind."

Unblinking, he answered sardonically, “Because. You need to get outta the apartment once in a while, or ya joints will rust together.” He clicked his tongue. ‘For all ya artificial divinity, you sure can be thick.’ “I want you to be happy--” The words escaped prematurely and he lurched forward a fraction of an inch as if to catch them back.

Despite having over 100 years of experience in politics, he still hated lying.

He was tired of faking the part of the indifferent band member, pretending that Tartar’s insults never found their mark. Together they ran but not in unison, parallel lines that would never touch. Anger swept through his body, but he kept his eyes level, lazy. He cooly undid his facemask from around his ears, crushed the fabric into a ball in his fist and with all the strength in his arm, threw it as far away from the carriage as he could manage.

Tartar uttered a rueful laugh at his reply, of course he replied, and watched just out of range of their optic as he angrily, but calmly, threw away his mask. They found it foolish, but said nothing; he would inevitably need it again by the end of the night. They refused to follow his gesture. Octavio settled back into his seat, turned away from them and resuming his observance of the shrinking landscape. His eyes flecked with color from the strobing bulbs that rose up on either side of the ferris wheel.

Perhaps, if they had a little more self control, they'd have left the exchange at that. Yet, they still wanted to know why, why Octavio cared so much about the way they reacted to these attractions, why he kept bothering to try. They weren't sure how to ask anymore, each answer was more confusing than the last. "I have no reason to currently emulate 'happiness', you know. Not while this world continues to sleep, breathe, live in it's own filth every day." They processed as they spoke, yet again making some appeal that he might finally understand the reasoning of a machine, "Petty amusements like these are just distractions from my purpose for existing. They hold no value to me-- they're not supposed to."

The AI looked back to the ground, still wholly unmotivated to look their partner in the eye as they continued without restraint, "My motivation belongs only to cleansing this poor excuse of a sentient species as soon as possible. And you. You're upset that my resolve doesn't meet your expectations of how I should behave, then? Is that it?"

Expressions melted into each other, first Octavio pursed his mouth in a grimace, then pulled his lips tight over uneven fangs, his head still turned away. He finally settled back into a placid scowl.

"No--!" He cried sullenly, "I don't want ya ta be someone you’re not." He gnawed at the knuckle of his forefinger, one of his nervous habits.

Another bout of silence as the wheel climbed, stopping at intervals to let people on or off the carriages. "I'm sorry." He murmured finally, turning towards them, "I didn't mean to try and... Well, T, if I may, that's a bunch of bull. Squit. I know ya can be happy. Talkin about humans makes ya happy, listenin to retro. Shell, cleaning makes ya happy. I guess, I just can't tell what's you and what's…" he pointed to the black speck of his mask on the pavement below, "A front, a mask, 'ye old silicone imitation.'" Octavio leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands over his face. His eyes were glassy with surfacing emotion. "Cod knows I want the inks gone as much as you. But it's not a waste to enjoy tha time you got, ‘specially after a hard day's work." He wondered if the beauty of the dusk had seized him, or if it was the security of knowing they had no other choice but to listen to him that made him so bold.

"What I want, is for you to realize there's more to life than obsessin' over a goal or a dream. You think you'll only find happiness when you get this or that, but it's a lie, T. Your life is now, however artificial you insist it is. You have a s--" he stopped himself, not willing to argue on the philosophical. He bowed his head and laced his fingers together over his knees "I know this cause I've lived it."

"You know?" They repeated him, their tone floating with a sarcastic awe, "You don't k n o w anything about me, be honest-- We are two entirely different kinds of creatures. I am aware organics like you need rest and distractions to relieve yourselves, but I do not operate on the same necessity."

Tartar's eyes searched the ground fervently as they suppressed the urge to squirm in their seat. Though everything Octavio had claimed about their nature could only be assumptions, it was more accurate than they cared to acknowledge. Did he really think they were so transparent? He couldn't possibly have a clue, they kept their personality under calculated restriction at all times-- at least, they felt sure they did.

"Why does it matter so much to you?" They finally blurted, turning fully to face him with a stern expression, "I do everything in my ability to hold up my end of our agreement, which should be your only concern towards me. Why are you bothered with anything else? With how I f e e l ?"

Afraid that continuing on the defensive side of the debate would inevitability expose information they strained to keep hidden away, they instead posed him a more burning question about his continued insistence that they must be able to enjoy the situation they were currently in, somehow. Why would he care? At the current moment, they felt quite the opposite of enjoyment of the ferris wheel, and especially the conversation at hand. Their only solace was in the recognition that their cart of the ferris wheel had finally crawled its way to the peak of the mechanical circle. Soon enough, they'd be descending, and Tartar could finally get away from both the physical and metaphorical ride they had been forced onto-- regardless of whatever conclusion Octavio was attempting to reach with them.

Wild fervor rose, red-hot in his throat, but the Octarian kept the fire subdued until they had finished. He gave himself a few moments to calm the desire to throttle some sense into them.

“Why shouldn’t it matter to me.” The question was a whisper, his eyes locked with their optics. “Would it surprise you—” a pause, “Would it shock ya to know sometimes I forget you’re a robot.” His voice rose slightly, indignation and passion beginning to color his face. “Why d’ya get so offended when I try ta treat ya with respect, when I extend ya common decency. Answer this T, why can’tcha wrap your head around the idea that I want to get to know you. Frill the Cod clam contract.”

The AI exhaled with a glitch-like halt, holding Octavio's stare with increasing difficulty as his expression began to speak more for him than words ever could. An error code appeared for a malfunctioning swirl of ink within their core-- a feeling they couldn't place, refused to, shoved back into its rhythmic flow through their systems.

Octavio curled his bottom lip under his teeth, “S’ much as I would like ta be a heartless bastard, I can’t help but be bothered with how ya feel.” With a shaky exhale he leaned his head over the back of the chair, staring blankly up at the darkening sky. They had finally reached the apex of the ride when it halted again, doubtless to allow more passengers off. Through his raging thoughts, Octavio noted that the ferris wheel’s turbo bulbs flickered out of sync.

>Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

#hypnothesis #inkcarnival #commander tartar #dj octavio #t-vax #wasa-b #writing #IF YOU THOUGHT THIS BLOG WAS GOING TO TELL A STORY WITHOUT HEFTY DOSES OF FANFICTION #YOU THOUGHT WRONG #AND I KNOW WHAT YOURE ALL THINKING #FEEL FREE TO SCREAM AT US AS MUCH AS YOU DESIRE #happy october #its been real

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