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connywrites · 6 years ago

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of flesh and blood 14

start - part [13]

Was it all just in my head? I feel your hands around my neck 'Cause you took what you thought was yours Now I'll take mine Don't pretend you're innocent An eye for an eye

While his sleep gradually became regular and he'd learned to follow a strict schedule while maintaining a timeframe for personal hygiene and a few minor slots for space to himself, Gavin still felt surprised to wake up and see cold, distant silver rings staring him down.

They held infinite knowledge, and this individual model had a deep understanding of himself that made him sick to his stomach, as 900 could pull up anything he might want to keep secret and hold it to his face on a whim. Wondering exactly how it knew so much about him, alongside the memories of his interactions in the DPD, the detective part of his brain stirred as he pieced together an assumption: the tablet news articles he'd skimmed over were probably right, assuming Cyberlife must have taken the department's security camera recordings and uploaded them to the RK900. One of Connor's biggest flaws, as Gavin and his co-workers never shied from talking about, was the inconsistent "memory" loss from the amnesia between deaths. A different Connor didn't remember it's past chassis' demise or seemingly anything before it, and any other pieces of information that might have been lost from the internal damage; meanwhile it was blatantly clear the RK900 remembered what it and its previous model experienced, and much more from before it was made at all, making him wonder if it held the remaining memories of the old RK800s as well. In his mind, it was the only way to make sense of how it could indicate his emotions and preferences down to a point he didn't acknowledge in himself; the base of what was so terrifying to him as the androids knew him too personally and were capable of spreading that information to what might as well be a global scale on a whim, by how he felt. It probably knew the same amount or more about the others that worked at the department, but had no inclination to pay attention to such a thing while he was the one singled out.

Running away had given him all the more time to become absorbed in his own paranoia, glancing back down every alleyway turn as he'd ran for hours, feeling the stretch of his physical endurance as his lungs burned and his muscles felt red-hot. He'd ran, climbed, jumped, dug and swam as far as his body could take him for any sense of unfamiliarity, wanting nothing more than to escape this living hell he’d been stuck in. No matter his attempts, there was no satisfaction as he knew he’d never entirely escape, proven by the fact he woke up in his own bedroom all over again - dressed down to his boxers despite the fact he’d left fully clothed. He could already imagine the scornful tone the 900 probably used when it talked to itself, as it often did, likely saying something about how he’d ruined perfectly good, new clothes with mud stains, sweat, or whatever else it could think of. Lost in thought, he didn’t turn to look at the android until the familiar, pale hand waved in front of his face, a clear demand for his attention. His eyes followed the movement of its hand, then trailed to its eyes, blinking a few times as he tried to shake off the sleep still fogging his mind.

"You have scars dating back to childhood. To infantry. What tragedies have you suffered?" Gavin nearly choked on his drink, scoffed, and then laughed a fake, dry chuckle that lasted all of four seconds before he straightened out again.

"I don't really want to go down that road, if you don't mind," he muttered, his gaze only halfway focused on RK900 as he otherwise looked straight ahead. The second half of his sentence was touching dangerous territory, he knew, but forming sentences right after he woke up was still difficult.

“I asked you a question, and it wasn’t for a response of personal opinion.” The demand only reached halfway through his mind as his thoughts drifted off, feeling the swooping dizziness of exhaustion trying to tug him back into unconsciousness. Rapidly snapping fingers caught his attention anew, tired eyes glancing up and over to the android again, seeing that it was visibly ‘growing impatient’ with a glare that signaled an unfortunate demise in his favor if he didn’t respond fast.

“It’s a broad question.” Acknowledging the truth in his words, it nodded, eyelids flickering with a millisecond of understanding.

“The worst thing you remember.”

Ah. All it wanted was his agony; yet again, he chastised himself with the awareness that he should have known better.

“Why do you wanna know that?”

“Consider it another simple curiosity.”

“Worst is a real hard pick, buddy. I guess the first thing that comes to mind was being shoved back against the hot stove, while the burner was still on fire. That weird ring of a scar on my shoulder, next to your second zero? Yeah, that was that.” While he tried to remain stoic in his speech, Gavin couldn’t help the way his voice grew low and quiet whenever he talked about this – which was, ultimately, never. It hurt too much, and it made him feel embarrassed, weak. 900 wanted to feed off of that misery, he knew, but he wouldn’t let it get away with it more than he could help.

“That is a particular burn scar.” Gavin turned his head, squinting at the android as he made another attempt at piecing together exactly how the machine worked, and what it knew, alongside how it knew what it did. Sometimes it talked to him like it had known him since high school, yet others he’s reminded they’d only been working together for a few weeks. Maybe a month now, if he added the two days before the first weekend. They’d only ‘grown closer’ since, and the way the RK900 hadn’t left his sight since day one was more than irksome, given the circumstance.

Gavin considered the idea this could be sort of a game to the android’s mind, as it seemed to respond to some things in such a way, and with this being his personal history, he was almost certain it would find some sort of entertainment in the exchange.

“What do you wanna know all that for, anyway? Er, don’t hit me, please – I mean it.” Lifting his hands with his palms in an immediate motion of surrender, he felt his heartbeat pump blood at a quicker and heavier rate once he’d caught his own words. Eyes on the RK900, he felt relieved to see it didn’t look too bothered.

“You asked this question already, but I suppose stating it as a mere interest of mine is a bit of a dead end for you. I want to know why you aren’t so physically fit in your age for how hard you work your body, and why you’re prone to muscle straining. I’ve learned it’s because you’re always tense, so something like a heavy gun recoil when you’re holding the rifle too tight nearly dislocates your shoulder. With your constant body tension, that encouraged me wonder why you clench up all the time in the first place, and with that added to the many scars across your epidermis, I assumed a history of physical violence would make one keep his guard up at any and all times possible the way you do.”

Gavin hated being accessed like he was a hospital test subject, but all he did was lower his arms to his sides and return to his regulated posture.

“What are some of the worst things you’ve done to someone else?” Heavy discomfort pressed down on Gavin’s chest, increasing his rapid breathing while an ugly sensation of guilt and well-aged self-disgust stirred him with nausea. No human had known to ask him about such a thing, and if they did, they weren’t brave enough to bring it up to his face.

“Being a crime scene detective is a morbid job to pick, but it was easier for you to accept that your life was already full of trauma and violence, correct? It’s not an uncommon pattern, but in you, it’s fascinating.” Gavin didn’t dare look at the android.

“At least I can justify shooting someone if I have a badge to back me up.” His voice was thick as an uncomfortable lump stuck in his throat and pulled his voice box tight. The urge to cry was already warbling his speech. 900 raised its eyebrows in mock surprise with a tone of disbelief in its voice.

“That implies you’ve shot people before you were on the police force. That would have been a felony and put you in prison,” it said, eyebrows scrunching while it processed the aspect in its artificial mind, “unless you weren’t caught.” In a moment like this, Gavin would usually feel cocky, shining a mocking grin in the face of whoever he’d consider an enemy, but he’d learned better than that by now. Listening to the android pick him apart and ask the most personal questions about his history was an overwhelming discomfort, and one he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape. Sometimes it was easier to go along with it and power through the engagement, but by the end it usually lead to him feeling a flood of emotions he hadn’t touched in years or decades, generally all it once in overabundance, throwing him into a mental breakdown from the psychologically and physically invasive aftermath.

“Yeah. I dunno, someone hurt my family and we just grew up doing whatever it took to make it right.” At least, that’s what his dad said, and as far as he knew, his own ancestors.

“The way you say that with ease means it doesn’t measure up to the more vicious actions you’ve carried out, in your mind. You must find comfort in seeing the darkness of others like you. Though, I’m sure you never would have imagined yourself being a victim.”

“That make you a suspect?” Gavin knew his phrase was wittingly sharp, but he slid under the excuse of being unable to help it. RK900 smirked.

“Only those with evidence towards guilt would a suspect make. No one assumes anything from me, so no. You’re on your own.” Discomfort stirred in his chest again, leaving him to feel unsteady on his feet. The android acknowledged the way he swayed, lethargy and gravity trying to pull him down.

“You haven’t slept so well, I see. We can pick up this discussion later.” Confused, then agitated, then complacent, Gavin went through the mental gymnastics of understanding and reluctantly accepting the situation. No matter how annoying the 900 was, sleep sounded great.

“Okay.”

“Try again.” A twitch of irritation pulled up his shoulder as he was unable to help the flinching every time he was told to speak the same words he’d grown to loathe:

“Yes, sir.”

“You lied to me. Don’t think I couldn’t tell.” Gavin wished he could do more than freeze and stand still every time the damn machine opened its mouth.

“You don’t care about your family, and you definitely wouldn’t risk your life for them. You shot that person for a reason you probably know was selfish.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep,” Gavin murmured, rubbing his eye as he tried to wake up a little more.

“What happened? Did you feel justified in your actions?”

“Yeah, if the guy deserving to be shot is what you see as justice,” he muttered, shuffling to pour another cup of coffee.

“I asked for your opinion.” Yawning, Gavin shook his head as he tried to understand where the android was going with this, only to find yet another dead end.

“In my opinion, he’s dead fucking meat and deserved to get eaten by the maggots. Are we done here? I’ve got work today—” there was a sharp prong in his side where the taser usually went, but this time it was but the sharp end of tonged barbecue fork, painful enough to make a point without doing any real damage to Gavin or his clothes. Flinching, he sucked in a breath and scooted away from the item.

“Er. Right,” he murmured with a sigh of defeat.

“Sorry. Yeah, I feel like I was right. He’s not hurting anyone else anymore, now is he?”

RK900 narrowed its eyes, staring at him for a few long seconds as something within its emotional coding decided it didn’t particularly feel comfortable around someone like this. It was something like fear, at a lower level, but still complicated enough it didn’t understand it, searching for a dictionary definition to replicate and apply to the sensation.

It took a few seconds, but Gavin caught on, turning his head to the side as he was suddenly brave enough to step forward, inspecting the expression on the android’s face. One of the most human ones of all, he was sure of it; uncertainty.

“What? Are you scared of what I’m capable of?” While the giveaway of stress was gone from its facial expression, it shifted into a combative stance without any prompt telling it to do so.

“I would worry for the sake of the other human lives you’ve interfered with, but that would be useless as I’ve now fixed the problem.” Gavin didn’t feel so brave anymore.

“You look like you’re scared I’ll hurt you again, Nines.” RK900 paused, genuinely processing the statement and cycling it through its mind with a yellow, blinking LED and a few seconds to idle.

“I don’t know why only now my emotional replicative processors are acknowledging your potential of being dangerous towards me,” it said in a voice that held modest confusion. Gavin studied its posture while it shuffled through its own coding, pulse flooding his ears as he wanted to repeat the night all over again in an act of vengeance, but felt much too terrified to do more than move from his position and try to brace himself for the worst.

“I thought only deviants were scared of dying,” Gavin spoke with a sharp tongue. This time, the android was the one that didn’t move, shifting its expression to show its confusion as it caught Gavin’s gaze straight on.

“You’re always asking me questions; can I have a turn?” Its eyes studied him, but even if it could read every physical statistic of his body, it wouldn’t find an answer for what it was looking for. Immediately recognizing it as an irrational instruction, the piece of code was deleted, leaving it to readjust its posture and stand up straight again.

“Sure,” it obliged, partially in challenge. Gavin went to fold his arms over his chest before feeling the tightness of his work shirt shift over his skin, a swift reminder to limit his posture and cuing him to return his arms to his sides. In a moment of realization, he turned to grab his coffee cup that was now turning cool, glancing at the watch on his wrist without thinking twice as he clocked the time, feeling the anxiety ease away from him as he ensured he wasn’t late.

It was harder to put his thoughts into words than he anticipated, leaving him to shift his weight and lean back against the counter in thought with another sip of coffee. He could learn anything in the existence of human knowledge from this thing, and while what he’d ask would never be ultimately important, he knew he had to watch his words when he tried to talk with it.

“What’s your goal? Everything has to relate to something for you, right? That’s how it works up there?” He gestured an index finger towards his right temple, an obvious signal, although mocking, of what he was talking about.

“Anyway, the hell—er. What are you trying to learn now? Doing all this? To me? I don’t get it.” The admission was harder than he’d assumed it would be, leaving his body shaking with the realization he’d offered raw emotional vulnerability. Curling his hands into fists, he pretended to shove away the anxiety.

RK900 seemed to sincerely consider the question, its expression softening as it turned its head to register the look on Gavin’s face. It’s library of pre-programmed facial expressions seemed like a farce compared to watching a human like him in action.

“Your instructions were embedded into my coding and I followed them.” There wasn’t a reason for it to keep hurting him after the first night, though.

“After that, I suppose it was of my own accord. Something about it is…” it paused, quickly searching its database for a synonym that it found suitable for the context of their discussion.

“Gratifying.” Gavin raised his eyebrows with the familiar knee-jerk reaction of fear making him scoot away from the android a bit more, feeling the shift of new, clean bandages on his back; for the most part, the itching and aching faded into the background of his conscience, but it was always more apparent whenever the 900 made a verbal point of hurting him for its own pleasure.

“Politically speaking, androids may obtain rights, but we have yet to suffer from wrongs. You can’t put me in a fair trial, you can’t throw me in jail, and you can’t have me destroyed. There’s no way to get rid of me, and your point makes me curious as to why this is the case as well.” After it dawned on him the android wasn’t aware of why it was doing what it was at all, he set down his coffee cup in a moment of nausea and turned away to head towards the door, breaking his well-trained character in an anxious moment of forgetfulness.

“Can we talk about that on the way to work?” With nothing cuing it to get rough with its hands, it opted to follow through for now; getting work done was still its main priority, no matter what else took up its time on the sidelines. It considered Gavin a personal side project, something that wasn’t necessarily beneficial to the Cyberlife team or the DPD, but a show of human psychosis that taught it more about the species’ functionality as a whole every day.

Gavin grabbed his jacket and unlocked the door, bustling through as he glowered at the falling snow, pulling the hood up and momentarily admiring the faux fur that lined the back of it – another one of 900’s precise purchases, of course – as well as the fact he was actually warm in it compared to the old worn-down leather coat and pair of sweaters he’d worn holes through over the years. Slipping into the passenger seat without further comment, Gavin adjusted the seat on his side and leaned back with a sigh as his stomach grumbled in a harsh reminder he’d skipped breakfast.

“What did you wish to discuss?” Gavin cast it a look of annoyance, but shook his head, glowering out the window and sliding back in his seat.

“Nevermind. Anyway, I’m putting in a request to get you off my cases as my partner, so don’t be surprised if you get fired.” The engine of the car had started humming, but 900 hesitated on the prompt that would begin its designated route as it internally put together exactly what Gavin had just said.

“And you didn’t notify me?”

“Well, what you said was right, you don’t really have a place in society. Sucks not having rights, huh?” Feeling smug, he had all of a few seconds to smirk before he felt the grip of its large, crushing hand around his neck, and all certainty and ego was quick to drain from him as the color disappeared from his face.

“I think you’ll realize that I have a right to end your life just as you did mine.” Confused, Gavin furrowed his brows, but he no longer felt any challenge left in him as he sat up in his seat, eyes locked on the android’s. He wanted to think the android wouldn’t kill him, that he didn’t believe it, but that would be false, and they both knew it. Whatever the upgrade did to this android, it was a constant threat in his favor, and he was too quick to forget just how real the threat was. It was as surreal as it was terrifying to think one of the dreadful machines had his life in its grip, ready to crush him to pieces as soon as it had the opportunity. He revisited the fact it branded him with deep, permanent lacerations for the satisfaction of seeing it alone, even if its own model turned out to be temporary – it would still haunt Gavin for the rest of his life.

Whatever he’d done to it the night of his overdose must have ingrained something awful within it, and he couldn’t decide if this was his own fault or not.

“I suggest you close your mouth before I shove your head to the gravel while the car is still moving.” Without another comment, 900 let go of Gavin and the car pulled from its position in park and started driving itself towards the department.

#wrow.. look at them go #also took this as full advantage to plug my ofab playlist lmfao #detroit: become human #dbh: gavin reed #dbh: rk900

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iloveyoupittsburghpirates-blog · 7 years ago

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You’re Tearing Me Apart, Pittsburgh Pirates

My Dearest Pittsburgh Pirates,

I’m trying not to freak out. I realize that this letter is so late that a game was already played this week and it was, unfortunately, more of the same. Sunday’s loss was brutal considering you led 4–1 going to the 7th in a game that would win you the series at home against a division rival and you couldn’t hold on. Taillon got into trouble and then the bullpen collapsed giving up five runs in the last two innings to lose 6-4. It seemed even worse because Felipe Vasquez left the game, after walking in the lead run and barely throwing a strike, holding his elbow. I thought for sure he would need Tommy John surgery and we would see him this time next year. Fortunately, it surprisingly seems to be fine and he won’t even need a DL stint. I’m still concerned about it but for now that’s obviously good news. Unfortunately, you went 2-4 this week against division rivals and three of those games were home. The other three were against a last place team. You didn’t start this week any better dropping the opening series against the Cubs 7-0 and getting totally shut down by a long reliever making a spot start. And then there’s the whole Rizzo slide at home plate which I will discuss later. You’ve lost eight of your last ten games and you are now in 4th place, six games out of first. You need to right the ship quickly or this season could be over in the the blink of an eye.

I’ll admit, you can still surprise me sometimes. Starling Marte was set to be activated from the DL on Saturday and I was convinced that you would send down hot-hitting, top prospect Austin Meadows to let him play everyday and to avoid him hitting Super 2 status, which would bring his first year of arbitration a year sooner. The announcement arrived and Jose Osuna was demoted to Triple-A. Meadows will be the fourth outfielder for now and will cycle between all three outfield positions in order to give more days off, particularly to Gregory Polanco. He’s completely lost at the plate right now with only 3 hits in his last 31 at bats for a .096 average. He should not play the next few games to allow him to clear his mind and hit the reset button. His OPS is down to .722 and he was finally moved down in the lineup to the seventh spot in the order before being benched yesterday. You face a good lefty, Jon Lester, today so we shouldn’t see Polanco again. He can’t buy a hit with RISP and his defense is a liability so if he’s not hitting, he provides no value. Until Polanco begins to hit, or until Meadows cools off, Polanco needs to be relegated to only three games a week. In 1,948 at bats in his career, Polanco has splits of .248/.316/.404 for a .720 OPS which is well below average. We are not operating with sample sizes anymore. In other years, he’s been able to blame poor performance on injuries but there are no excuses left. Meadows is knocking on the door and if Polanco doesn’t show signs of life soon, he might be nothing more than a pinch hitter or trade bait.

You can really make me laugh sometimes. I’ve been complaining since Nick Kingham was demoted back to Triple-A because he’s easily one of your top five pitchers, if not top two or three. Nova and Taillon have struggled mightily, Kuhl has been inconsistent, and Trevor Williams, who’s been your best pitcher, gave up four runs in four innings on Saturday’s loss to the Cardinals. Your desperate for pitching help and Kingham is the obvious choice. On Friday, Kingham was pulled from his start in Triple-A after the first inning with no report of injury. Apparently, Ivan Nova’s has been pitching his last five starts, which have all been terrible, with a strained finger ligament. This was revealed on Saturday morning after he was specifically asked Friday night if he was healthy and said yes. This could be your old move of claiming the struggling pitcher is “injured” and putting him on the DL, but Nova finally admitted the injury had been giving him trouble with his curveball. That’s a pretty major handicap for a pitcher who already doesn’t have over-powering stuff. It was announced yesterday that Nova is going to the DL and Kingham will start in his place tonight. This rotation was the concern to start the season and it’s finally showing it’s weaknesses. The Meadows decision shows a different mindset so hopefully that means you are willing to keep Kingham in the rotation if he’s deserving, but the likeliest scenario is Kingham goes back to Triple-A once Nova returns.

So long, George Kontos. Hello, Joe Musgrove. Musgrove was activated from the DL Friday night which meant someone had to go and that someone was Kontos. He was easily the worst pitcher in the bullpen seeing as he couldn’t strikeout a batter and his velocity had dropped significantly. Kontos performed admirably last year but could never find it this season. Musgrove was acquired in the Gerrit Cole trade and he didn’t disappoint in his debut. He pitched seven scoreless innings, striking out seven, walking zero, and doing it all on 67 pitches. His accuracy was impressive and he used five different pitches extremely effectively. His fastball was hitting 96 mph and he was in complete command the entire game. This could be a game changer. I know he won’t do that every night but if he can be a legitimate major league starter, that’s something you desperately need right now. The former first round pick was considered the most significant piece in the Cole deal after finding himself again in the Astros’ bullpen last season. He dominated his way up through the minors but when he finally started in the majors it went terribly. He logged a 6.12 ERA, a .306 average against, and a 1.51 WHIP in 15 starts last year. In 23 games and 31 1/3 innings as a reliever, he had a 1.44 ERA, .196 batting average against, and a 0.86 WHIP. If that bullpen stint fixed him, he could end up being a steal and a fixture in your rotation for years to come. Given the current state of your rotation, you’re more desperate for his success than ever.

It’s rivalry week! This is one of your biggest weeks so far this season because of your competition. The Chicago Cubs are in town for two more games after the blowout yesterday. They are currently a 1 ½ games ahead of you in the standings and 4 ½ games behind the first place Brewers. You will face Lester and Hendricks the next two games so it’s a real shame you couldn’t take advantage of facing long reliever Mike Montgomery yesterday. On Thursday, you hit the road for a four game series in St. Louis against the Cardinals. They are in third place and a game ahead of you in the division. You can’t afford to keep losing series because the Milwaukee Brewers are looking stellar having won eight of their last ten games. You are still only two games out of a wildcard spot but even that’s quickly slipping away. Your decision making this week has focused more on right now than the future, which has been a rarity in the past. Keep your best players in the majors because you are still in this thing. The rotation needs vast improvement but hopefully Musgrove and Kingham can provide that. The offense has been inconsistent but hopefully the return of Marte will aid in that. Keep showing up and battling. That’s all I can ask of you. We’ll see you how you fare and this time next week we might have a much better idea of your potential. Good luck!

Still Holding Out Hope,

Brad

P.S. stands for pejorative slide. Yesterday’s game brought mostly controversy due to Anthony’s Rizzo’s slide at home plate that took out Elias Diaz’s leg. It caused Diaz to throw the ball away allowing two more runs. You challenged to see if it broke the Posey rule and apparently it didn’t even though Rizzo goes out of his way to take out his legs. Your players thought Rizzo should be hit with a pitch his next at bat and when he wasn’t tempers flared up including David Freese and third base coach Joey Cora having to be separated in the dugout. Of course, Joe Maddon’s take was that it was a perfect slide by Rizzo but he would have defended him if he stood up and punched Diaz in the face afterwards. I hate the unwritten rule of throwing at players to settle a score. It gives the team a free base and now if Nick Kingham is expected to hit Rizzo today, he could be ejected and you would lose your starter. If everyone on the team is furious that you didn’t throw at him, then maybe you need to address in order to restore good will in the clubhouse. My opinion on the slide is that if you want to compare it to breaking up a double play at second, then it’s dirty but maybe not illegal. The problem is the way the Posey rule reads catchers are a different entity and based on the wording of the rule, Rizzo should’ve been out. I’m sure this will make today’s game tense and potentially explosive. The only thing I know for sure is that if you had done this to the Cubs’ catcher, Rizzo and Maddon would be singing a completely different tune. Stay tuned for the insanity…

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