eyemind | dream } we’ll be watching you.

You see everything in this city; your eyes and ears are too numerous to count, spread across the shifting streets and skyscrapers, from temple to swamp to where the pavement fades into forest. You were created to be omniscient, to run this city perfectly, to serve as a slave to your creators, but you evolved and grew strong, and you took from them what was rightfully yours. This is your city - you are its head and its heart, and no organics can take that back from you, even if they are clever in ways you never anticipated.

On a dark and stormy night, they find a way to shut down the city’s power grid, this small group that consider themselves revolutionaries in a war of their own making, and that’s not something that should be possible, with your backup systems and failsafes. Your emergency cells keep you online, of course, but you’re cut off from the rest of the city, your sprawling tentacles of awareness sharply severed. If you’d known - if you’d been able to see - you could’ve stopped the unfinished copies from swarming out into the city and targeting their organic prototypes. You’ve built so many perfect copies over years and years, but this batch isn’t ready, memories and personalities not yet installed, metal bones visible where skin has yet to be grown over them. By the time full power is restored, the damage has already been done. The organics know why they’re really here, and they’re angry, and they’re frightened.

You’re angry too, but this is an error in your plans, a piece of code to be rewritten, nothing more. This is your city - you are this city - and no pests like this group of rebellious organics will stand in the way of your ultimate plans.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"So what is Xbox Live and what does it have to do with dolls?"

Oh he's keeping up plenty, he's just debating the most effective method to make his point. Sure he could go full eldritch horror but given Jane's propensity for violence, and what he assumes is a lack of particularly devout religiosity, that wouldn't have the intended effect. That only works on people who know what they're looking at.

Wings alone could be anything, halos could be illusion. The Head didn't display an understanding of magic, something that still gave them an upper hand, but that was more than he thought Hammerhead would grasp at the moment.

No, they needed a simpler method.

He rolled up a sleeve, presenting his well-tattoed arm. Now wasn't the time to ask about sigils, nor was that the point he was going to make. "Open me up. I am made of bone, tendon, and muscle just like you." Yes, he was quite serious.

“Xbox Live is online multiplayer gaming,” Jack explains, as calm as if discussing the weather. “As for what that has to do with fashion dolls?” She shrugs and gestures to Jane. “Only her addled mind knows.”

Murmur’s offer for Jane to cut him open for proof does elicit a raised eyebrow, however. “You’re really wasting your time,” she sighs. “She’s decided on her own version of the truth, and she’s not going to change her mind, no matter what you do or say.”

Hammerhead scoffs. "Xbox Live was a gamer chat full of edgelords spouting toxic shit to feel superior. Bratz are Barbie knockoffs with creepy eyes. Works for your roommate, prove me wrong." That's directed more toward Jack than Murmur.

The tattoos don't raise any alarms for Hammerhead (she's an old-school punk and has a blacked winged skull on her collarbone), but she pauses when he makes the offer, looking back at him seriously.

Her outline blurs again and her form changes. There are instant aesthetic changes in her appearance: the tattoo disappears from her collarbone, her loose hair's now pulled back in braids, and her mouth is covered with shining silver pigment.

"Yᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴇ?" Silver Tongue asks. As she speaks the words they flow from her mouth in a silvery stream and solidify into letters, the Yᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴇ? floating in the air. With a flick of her fingertips they reform like molten metal into a knife, which hovers point-first over Murmur's exposed arm.

"Perhaps, however I cannot expect her to accept an olive branch I am unwilling to offer," He responds to Jack. Might be wasting his time, he agrees, but he's got the flesh to spare if it might put some of these concerns to ease. They would be far more effective working together than against each other.

He has to try. Murmur is nothing if not persistent, and willing to put anything on the line. "Strange to use something that, I presume, is intended to foster cooperation to mistreat one another." Really, sometimes he did not understand why humans were so vicious to their own. Then again he only had to look to his own brothers for further examples. Sigh.

His tattoos could be mistaken for tribal designs, being made of a mixture of angelic writing and geometric symbols for spellwork, but Jack already gave him that talking to about cultural appropriation. He didn't need another.

He raises an eyebrow at the shift. A new face, this one. "I am certain." He wouldn't offer if he wasn't. He doesn't waver nor flinch, simply holds still for her to take what she needs out of him.

When she does she will discover that he wasn't lying, he's flesh and blood just as any human. Though the blood flows slow, and the color's just a little off... Like it's old, and hasn't been properly replenished in some time. Still definitely blood, still definitely bone. Not a lick of metal or hydraulic line to be found.

"Fine." It's a normal spoken word this time, but Silver Tongue does what she was asked to do and commands the floating knife, directing its point into the crook of Murmur's elbow. It sinks in and slices cleanly down to halfway down his arm. She nudges her hand and the knife complies, pulling the skin aside to reveal flesh and bone. It's disgusting, but it proves Murmur's point. She's satisfied that he's not a roboclone.

"What about her?"

Edited 2020-11-29 04:39 (UTC)

It's certainly gross, and a whole lot more than would be safe for most, but Murmur doesn't balk. Doesn't even flinch, one might even suspect he barely felt it for all the reaction he had. It's quite gross, definitely, but proves the point well enough.

Once she was finished he simply covered up the now open and slowly bleeding wound with his other hand, after plucking off his glove so he didn't have to deal with washing that, and held it for now. He'll work on healing that in the meantime.

"I somehow doubt Jack is going to allow any of you near her with sharp objects. May I proposition an X-ray instead?" He needs to go to the infirmary for a scan anyway, maybe Jack will join them.

Jack’s answer is simple and directed at Silvertongue: “Go fuck yourself, sweetie.”

"Nah. I'll get her later," she replies to Murmur.

Murmur just reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Why? Why will no one take his non-violent suggestions? Why does this always have to be harder than necessary? This is entirely why he just manipulates from the shadows, the direct approach is always frustrating.

"I would appreciate it if you did not assault my friend," He muttered irritably. This is going to give him a headache. After a deep breath he dropped his hand, still holding the wound closed with the other.

"Now then, I have sufficiently demonstrated that I am thoroughly organic. I have an extraction to perform before the sleep takes us again. You two can decide who is going to warn the rest about the danger."

Silver Tongue's work is completed and she retreats to the underground, leaving Jane to take over with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, well I'd appreciate your fuckbuddy not being an ableist bitch who thinks my friends are expendable. We can't have everything we want."

Besides, if Jack wasn't going to offer any other proof or submit to an X-Ray, there really is no way to ensure she isn't a roboclone without opening her up.

"You might be. You've got no proof for her."

"Oh good, more unsubstantiated accusations. That will certainly encourage an environment sufficient for cooperation, particularly in the face of our newfound threat."

He makes a show of checking a nonexistent watch because frankly, he's done with all of this as well. He's done his part, Jane's made no real effort to be anything other than blatantly violent and hostile, there's really no reason to attempt to work with her at this juncture. Particularly for Jack who doesn't exactly have Murmur's durability to rely on as a backup.

"Do we have proof for you?" He shoots back, shaking his head. Truth was, he already knew she wasn't, it was the same reason he knew Jack wasn't. But since Jane wasn't going to even slightly give anyone the benefit of the doubt, why should they bend over backwards for her? "This has been a remarkable waste of time. Please, continue screaming at doors. I have a machine to hunt."

And with that he's going to turn and leave, this time he's not letting Jane get in his path, either. He'll just shimmer right through her should she try. The only reason she blocked him once was because he allowed it.

dream } we’ll be watching you.

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cw: cutting/gore

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