wickedchouette | (no subject)

What's that about?

[He asks, gesturing to the light - totally unrepentant about the fact that he's causing it.]

[ Voice a little more monotone: ] A flickering in your android's LED light indicates trouble in processing information. Please refer to the manual for more information.

Ah, fuck the manual. I've got you, haven't I? Does it make you feel any different?

[ It almost visibly doesn't want to talk about this, but Alfie's asking it direct questions, so it has to answer. ]

It means something is wrong with me.

You already said that. I asked you how it makes you feel.

I don't. [ It insists. ] If I feel something, that is the error.

[Alfie's eyes spark with interest.]

Tell me about those errors.

I don't know what you want to know. [ It shifts. It doesn't seem to know how to process what's happening, and the light is just straight up yellow, now. ]

You said that if you feel something, it's an error. That means, right, that you can feel, sometimes, even if you're not supposed to. Tell me about those times.

[ There's a struggle, for a moment, then: ]

The cat was lonely. I felt bad. [ It says, reluctantly. It can't disobey. ]

Have you ever felt lonely?

[Alfie rests his hands on the counter and leans forward, relentless.]

[ Oops, the ring goes red. ]

I don't know. I don't know how that's supposed to feel.

Red, that's worse, right?

Yes. [ It looks away. ]

Is it the worst? Is there anything beyond it?

[ A long pause. ]

Models that are in stressful situations tend to self-destruct.

[Well, fuck. That stops him in his tracks, because as much as he wants to push it and test it, he doesn't want to destroy it.]

Yeah. All right; never mind, then.

[ It shifts. ]

I'm - I'm sorry. [ It says, the red circle blinking. It doesn't know what else to say. ]

What for?

I don't know. [ It stutters slightly. ] I don't know. Is there anything I can do for you?

No. Short of going through my drawers and closets, just go back to doing whatever you like.

[ But. But it doesn't know...

It gives Alfie a sort of helpless look for a second, faltering. It doesn't know what it likes. It isn't supposed to like anything, it just exists. It cleans. It's supposed to clean.

So - it does. It goes to the kitchen and just starts to deep clean it, with anything that it can find. Weirdly enough, that seems to calm it down. You're fine. You're not broken. ]

For fuck's sake--

[Alfie mutters, turning on his heel to follow him.]

That doesn't need cleaning. You went out and found a cat on your own, didn't you; surely you can do things besides clean.

Not supposed to. [ It says, scrubbing the counter a little more violently than necessary. ] This is my function. Please allow me to do the work I am programmed to do.

[ The blue flickers again. ] If you have no need of my services please return me to Good Life.

[ The cat was nice, though. It liked the cat. ]

No.

[He snaps, a touch too violently.]

Absolutely fucking not.