Rebel Girl

[animusnpcs]

Characters: Aria (R-037), open
Setting: infirmary all week
Format: action preferred
Summary: Aria is open to speak to the residents of the Tower, if they would like to.
Warnings: potential horror event warnings; for now nothing though
Note: Please specify the date you are visiting Aria in your subject header.

[The infirmary swarms with retrieval units and worker units, all of whom have chipped collars. Most of them seem busy with one task or another, but a few are free enough to direct anyone who asks to speak to Aria to the woman in question. She's converted one of the examination rooms into something of an office, albeit a sparse one. She looks nervous and a little tired, but excited all the same. Her office is guarded by four retrieval units--attacking her here would be a bad idea, even setting aside the fact that Aria is a retrieval unit herself.

She seems happy to see anyone who walks in, though.]

Comments

[bashfulshifter]

[Rick nods, expression quickly shifting back to one of worry.]

...They, ah...d-d-didn't l-like me v-very m-much, e-e-either. [He gestures vaguely at the bundle of bloodied rags and bandages held up to his side, pressed against the stinging cuts underneath.] I...I-I o-only r-ran into o-one, b-but...m-more than a m-match f-f-for me. I w-wish there w-w-was more I c-c-could do...I'm s-s-sorry.

[And then he rapidly degrades to alarm as another implication hits: ]

--A-Are the--is e-e-everyone d-downstairs--are they s-s-safe?

[animusnpcs]

The work downstairs is the safest job--I don't think they even know where we're working down there. He'll be alright.

[bashfulshifter]

[Yes, Rick is pretty easy to learn how to read, isn't he? The blonde man trusts Aria's assurances and tries to relax, slowly nodding.]

...Do y-you know w-why...um...w-w-why they're g-going a-after you g-guys? Is i-it b-b-because of...? [He points at his blue collar, unsure of how else to describe the odd deformities of the assembled worker units.]

[animusnpcs]

Well, we did cut off all administrative communication with the residential area of the Tower. And we're not really supposed to have--personalities like this.

[bashfulshifter]

[Good point. Rick shrugs, but his curiosity has been tickled and he squints.]

...H-How did...I m-mean, why...w-what h-h-happened to m-make you...d-d-different?

[He makes more gestures at his collar. Something to do with how they're mangled, but...who did that? Why? How does that make them so much nicer than the other retrieval units?]

[animusnpcs]

Dax figured out a way to alter the way our collars work. Of course, it leaves a mark. [She runs a finger along her own collar, where it's chipped up.] Have you heard of Dax?

[bashfulshifter]

[He nods, pensive.]

I-I w-wasn't a-a-around b-before he...I m-mean, I n-never m-m-met him. [Rick flushes deep red and looks away.] He s-sounds...n-nice.

[A beat; then his tone becomes slightly more hopeful.]

--M-Maybe--there's a w-w-way we c-could h-help m-more of the, um--un--un-m-m-modified o-ones? I-If we c-can f-f-figure out the c-c-collar f-fluid, then...

[animusnpcs]

He was nice. [She smiles, nostalgically.] We can convert the unmodified ones, but it takes some time. And Jason can make more unmodified ones on a production line.

[bashfulshifter]

[Now that has him confused.]

...P-Production...?

[True, the other residents seem to think of the retrieval units as items, but...they have collars. That means they have souls, right? And if they have souls, then they're just like the rest of them!]

B-but...h-how can he p-produce...s-souls?

[animusnpcs]

We have artificial souls. We're like computers. I don't know how alive we really are compared to all of you.

[bashfulshifter]

[With no hesitation: ]

--Y-You're just a-as a-a-alive as the r-rest of us. You h-have to be.

[Artificial or not, a soul is a soul. Besides, Aria and the other chipped units seem far too personable to just be computers. Rick can't imagine that entities with this much compassion can be mere constructs.]

[animusnpcs]

[She smiles.] Thank you. I do feel alive, at least. That might count for something.

[bashfulshifter]

F-Feeling is the m-most i-i-important p-part.

[Rick smiles back, carefully straightening against the wall where he's been resting. He flinches at the feedback but recovers with, oddly, a pained chuckle.]

...E-Even if it h-hurts s-s-sometimes. Don't...d-d-don't f-forget that.