Night on the Town [OPEN]

[Kismet]

Though the sun had gone down, the city around Tosatsu Manor was forever bathed in light. The glow of shops and streetlights flooded the town in a warm yellow glow, and the flickering glare of television monitors broadcast the day’s inaugural matches to the sleepless crowds. But in the deep recesses of the city's back alleys, the dark was broken only by the sparse flickering of dilapidated neon lights. That, and the two burning pinpricks of light emerging from the eyes of Amal Surt.

Thick metal pipes lined the alley Amal had secluded himself in, and steam climbed steadily from their aged joints. The constant hiss muted the sounds of the sleepless city, and despite the abandoned, industrial tone, Amal found it both soothing and familiar.

He did not sleep, though he could clear his mind to an almost complete emptiness if he so chose. Such was the state he now occupied; stoically enthralled with the endless drone of the night’s sounds. Propped languidly atop of crumbling throne of cinderblocks, Amal Surt waited for morning.

[Angel]

Earlier in the evening, M had been sitting near a cart for a while, watching people get sweet treats from the cart. She just sat there, watching them.

Well, not just watching.. at least not a normal person's idea of watching. To M, watching often meant reading other peoples minds.. something she doubted many other would consider a normal part of watching. But M was quickly learning that what was normal to her was not normal to other people.

M felt confusing things about this. She didn't know how she felt about this normal thing. Did she care? She didn't know yet. She had to keep asking. So she sat and watched people buy sweet treats and she analyzed their thoughts. The thoughts of desire when they smelled the yummy food. The feelings they felt when they took their bites, when they had their food.

And she sat there all evening, until the cart owner started to pack things up.. but then he stopped. He looked right over to where she was sitting, and he spoke to her. "Hey kid. Did you want one?"

M was taken aback. She hadn't meant to be asked any questions! She was just watching, and not answering questions! She stood back, looking shocked, looking confused for a moment.. looking just a bit scared.

"Don't worry kid, it's on the house." he said, pulling it out. "Sitting there with puppy dog eyes all night." he said, handing her a warm treat, and then patting her head. "Now run off, good little girls don't stay up past their bedtime." he said, chuckling as she stood there unsure. She was reading his mind, and it was distracting her a moment from responding to him naturally. She knew in his head that he felt he had done a good thing, and it was true wasn't it? He had thought she was a hungry kid who had wanted a treat.. and that sounded like a good thing.

"Thank you!" she said, giving him some words she quickly found out he wanted in return. It was true, she should say thank you! He smiled and said, "You're welcome." and then he left. She was frustrated by this.. she had a lot more say!

And then she stared at the treat.. she stared at it. She had never eaten before in her whole life. The time she questioned it, K told her it wasn't something she needed to do. Normal people seemed so happy when they bit into this food though. So she bit into it. She chewed like they did.

But nothing. It brought not feelings in her.. it was just tiring. She kept chewing and by the time the stall owner was long gone, she finally spit it out.

No. Nothing.

She didn't know how that made her feel, so she just kept walking with it clenched in her hand.. staring at the candy covered apple with one bite taken out of it. Thinking about the other thing he had said. Good little girls didn't stay up past their bedtime?

She never had a bedtime? When would it be? She knew she didn't sleep either. Did this mean something was wrong? Did this mean she wasn't good?

She didn't understand.

She didn't think she liked this feeling though.

She just didn't know what not liking it meant.

So the small looking child looking soul with thoughts of what robots who didn't sleep did about bedtimes just wandered about, not really having a place to go. K was off, she knew that. K had important things to do, but M also knew by reading K's head that he also liked to be alone.

M didn't like to be alone though. No one thought about what Molly wanted.

This introspection was mostly leading her along safe paths, but a wandering soul sometimes takes an odd direction here and there. In this case, she turned into an alley she didn't know was occupied, and continued to walk down it.. heading closer and closer to the person she didn't know was there. Another soul possibly up past their bedtime, but who didn't actually have a bedtime. At this case, this kid would likely run into them if they didn't try to stop it though. She did seem rather engrossed in the treat in her hand, after all.

[Kismet]

The eyes of Amal Surt flicked upward as Molly approached, though he moved in no other way. Movement was a thing that was precious to Amal. Motion was the domain of life, of action and being. To live was to be in motion, to be in a constant state of becoming. But motion was not Amal's most natural state.

Stillness meant something different to Amal Surt than it did to most. To most people, "still" included the beating of a heart. The drawing of breath. The endless circulation of their blood and the tireless whirring of their cellular machinery. The human mind did not command the synthesis of ATP or the splitting of chromosomes. No conscious thought ordered sense receptors to report the breeze on one's skin.

Such was not the case for Amal Surt.

If Amal did not make the conscious decision to move, then he did not. Stillness was his natural state, and movement of any sort, no matter how small, was a measured, deliberate expression of life.

And as Molly approached, deep in heavy thoughts of her own, he saw that her thoughts occupied her from the cinder blocks strewn about in her path. And with a moment's thought, Amal spoke.

"Mind your step."

[Angel]

M was pulled out of her rather large and thoughtful brain and into the world again. She glanced around in the dark, trying to get an idea of where this person was. Her eyes were rather adept at pulling out detail in the dark. She found this person interesting, but she found all the people around here interesting. Although this thing was different, all the people here were different. To her, in a sense.. this person was the same as all the others.

"Hello?" she asked, looking a it strong in her words. Curious, actually. "Are you going to hurt me?" she asked, still almost shockingly curious. These kind of questions always were her favorite, in fact. Defensively, M had always tried to read the mind of those around her.. she saw nothing wrong with it. She had never been discouraged that there was anything wrong with it. It just made sense to collect more information.

(Just a note that she'll be actively mind-reading at this point forward, so do lemme know what's going on in the brainspace too. Unless you disagree with her ability to do for some reason. ^_^ )

[Kismet]

Amal laughed at the question, but remained languidly propped against his pile of rubble. Aside from the tilting back of his head to laugh and the smile on his lips, he remained still. It was a question he had received before, but it was usually not so brazenly asked.

"Perhaps" he said. "That is why we are here, correct?"

Just as physical motion was something precious and rationed to Amal, so too were the procession of his thoughts. He was a thing of ash and bone, of yesterday's tired leftovers, and the natural state of even his mind was calm and still. Though a great heat baked endlessly inside him, his soul would forever be dusty and dry. Emotion was not something that surfaced regularly in the mind of Amal Surt. If there was any one thing Molly might take from peaking into his mind, it would be that it was a calm, orderly place, and that his words aligned with his thoughts.

Finally stirring from his resting place, Amal stood. His right hand began to glow, bathing the alley in reddish light. Shadows danced across the walls as the rubble strewn across the ground came into focus.

Amal shrugged. "But not tonight. You simply looked lost in thought, and on treacherous footing." His voice and thoughts were neutral and very nearly apathetic. He had no intention of appearing threatening to this strange, brazen girl, but he also did not care if she saw him that way anyways.

[Angel]

She quickly was fascinated in this person, although M found fascination in people easy. They said a thing that normally people just kept inside, she thought. They spoke and thought in a way that was different! "You're different!" she said, voicing such thoughts too. When she could catch up with them, she liked to voice her's out loud too. If this person was, she could too!

She giggled a little, seeming excited for some unknown reason. "Nu-uh!" she said, shaking her head. "We're here for other reasons." Just talking about K without any context, and not really thinking to explain it. "I have a bigger purpose!"

Then, with a big smile on her face. "You cared about me though." she said, presenting it like a fact she was proud of, a fact she felt she had over him. She had her hands on hip and looked very sure of herself. "That means you're not just here to hurt. Why else!?" she beamed at herself for asking such a good question, excited to hear the answer to it. There was a certain tone to her voice, as if she considered herself some sort of teacher, guiding simple brains to an answer she already knew.

[Kismet]

Amal was different.

He was different in many ways from the other residents of the Manor. But of all the differences he had expected Molly to latch onto, the assertion that he was "nice" was not one of them. He raised his glowing hand casually outward, palm up and at shoulder height, and rested his other on his hip.

"Caring," he said, smiling wryly, "is a generous appraisal."

And perhaps it was. Molly falling flat on her face would not have particularly bothered Amal Surt, though he had elected to try and prevent it. The why of it was rather different than the girl had supposed, and in truth, was far more concerned with Amal's own well-being than Molly's. The tone of his own voice was not unkind though.

The girl had piqued his interest, however. He was undecided whether he found the tone of her voice amusingly precocious or insulting, and he had not forgotten that the residents of the Manor could not be judged by their appearance. He himself was testament to that fact, and regardless of who this girl was, he appreciated the precious courtesy she had unwittingly extended him. And in that sense, yes.

He cared very much.

"Sit a moment, if you will" he said, indicating the rubble and pipes around them. "And tell me of this purpose of yours. I would very much like to learn more."

[Angel]

Oooh. Generous. That was a very nice word, and Molly wasn't about to disagree with it either. "I've been told.." she paused, as if to emphasize. "That I'm a very good girl." she said, with a smile on her face that could creep out the right kind of person. It was one of those moments where it was too obvious that she was hardly a normal little girl.. but because of how much she still looked like one.

It was the strangest feeling of something being out of place, but you weren't quite sure of what it was.

Molly looked gleeful at the chance for Show and Tell, and glanced this way and that way along the places he had suggested for her to sit. For a moment, her cheeks.. soft in a way that hid her mechanical nature.. would actually puff out. A pout as very.. pampered thoughts entered her brain. Thoughts of how back alleys with dust and dirt, grime and slime seemed to suit K far more then her. Dissatisfied with the feeling of hiding away among the dark and steam like some kind of cog.

It was rare that she didn't voice thoughts, but she kept this one to herself.. less because she felt the need to hide her feelings and more that it was losing out to her excitement to talk about herself. Who didn't love talking about themselves? Molly especially loved it.

"So, I came from the stars! Do you know about that? Do you come from here? Did you know people came from far away?" she smiled, still pretty new to all of this.. and still presenting most of what she knew as if it was novel in some way.

[Kismet]

"I did not know about that, no" Amal said, deciding that if the girl would not sit down, then he was going to. He returned to his perch, resting comfortably upon the rough concrete. His posture was relaxed but attentive, and he considered the girl in silence for a moment.

The notion that she'd descended from the stars was absurd, but then so was the idea of a walking, talking volcano. Amal Surt was hardly in a position to be questioning Molly's genesis. And in truth, he was not inclined to. The girl intrigued him, and that would suffice for now. "Truth" was not something that yet required thought or attention, and so through the dry simplicity with which Amal governed his mind, it received none at all. For now - to him - Molly would be exactly who she said she was.

"I did know that people came here from far away" he said. "I am one of them. But most of the girls who come to Tosatsu Manor are not good." He smiled wryly, his eyes fiery pinpricks in the night. "What is one doing in this place, I wonder?"

[Angel]

The answer to his question was simple to Molly.

The simple answer might be that they were here to scout. If put on a paper she supposed that for now, that was the word that she would have to use. Except it wasn't what SHE was doing here. She was adamant about that.

K and M were different, they served different functions. K would, very soon.. start collecting all the information they could about the world around them. K was, although he would never admit it, excited at the prospect of this gathering information. Gathering information was something they did well, and it was their purpose.

What was M's purpose then? Why was she here?

"To know stuff. I'm here to know stuff." she said, her hands on her hips. Knowing stuff was a thrill. Like every question that he asked, she thrilled in being able to show that she knew the answer. "I want to know everything."

It was true though, that the difference between the two was not as much as Molly might like to believe, and that they both excelled at gathering information in their own way. With a sense of earnest delight, she spoke, the tone of her voice sounding curious and innocent. Her body language still excited as she watched the strange being. "What do you want?"

[Kismet]

Given that Amal possessed no muscles, no flesh, no sinews or ligaments, it is perhaps surprising that he was capable of suddenly looking tense. His disposition that movement - expression - being resources to be jealously guarded made it more unusual still. But little Molly knew none of this when she asked her question.

Amal Surt was silent again. The index finger of his resting hand raised high, held still a moment, and then slowly, deliberately, drummed back down onto his armrest. Exactly once.

"Answers, I suppose" he said finally. "The details of my own creation are...limited."

Amal knew the time and date of his creation. He knew the name of the person who had overseen his manufacture. He knew the location of the place where he had been constructed. Everything else was either mystery or inference, and he was not particularly satisfied with that. Besides confident, he could not say exactly what this girl standing before him was. But she was assured. She understood what her reason for being was.

Or at least, she thought she did.

"Rather meager ambitions, I suppose" he said, smiling wryly again. "Compared to your own. To know everything in the whole wide world."

[Angel]

Her eyes widened, never burdened the way he was to avoid expression. They were both starting to affect each other hard, and a new thought was starting to turn gears in her brain. Not that she had those. Her body language tightened a bit as the sudden realization that he was most certainly created hit her. She shouldn't have missed it. No. This person was like her.

No. Wrong. Incorrect. She was created to live for herself. Yes. She was a person. She was not machine. She was a mechanical being but nothing was ever hidden from her. She was not a tool. She knew everything. Yes. She was created but she was a person and this was a important thing. The idea that someone would forget this made a bubbling sort of heat fill her up.

She was not him, and she was not K.

She was filled with the life of her creator, and was special. To carry on a legacy. To live.

She was Molly.

She spoke, and was clear in purpose and honest with intent.. her voice spoke to her current emotional state strongly. It was uncomfortable, and almost a bit manic. "Yes.. well.. well.. I can do whatever I.. I mean. Couldn't you? As well? I was created too. It doesn't matter. Do whatever you want to! I think so. Yes. If your creator didn't give you one. Not good enough, if you suppose. You can be more! Anything is possible!" she fluttered her eyes and posed for him for a moment, the way she brought her hands together and bent her knees slightly, an almost a Shirley Temple level of manufactured adorableness.

[Kismet]

Amal lifted his head back and laughed.

It was a hard sound. A cold, mirthless bark of noise devoid of humor. But it was all Amal Surt had to answer with.

"Oh little star-born girl" he said coldly. "I am more." Veins of crimson light spiraled out from his center, crackling through his ashen flesh like lava. The lines thickened and spread, radiating across his body until his entire form burned a brilliant, cackling red and the whole alleyway was awash in light. No heat escaped the bounds of his skin though, save for where it met the cinder block throne he sat upon. With a soft hiss and pop, it too began to heat and turn red.

"If I were to follow my inclinations, I would simply disappear. I would sit atop some high mountain, some high throne of rock, and I would watch the world turn. Such is the disposition of ash." And indeed, the smell of soot was in the air. Ever since Amal had lit his hand to shed light for the girl, it had slowly been building. But now it could be seen wafting slowing skyward, mingling with the stars. Amal raised his head, watching them rise into the night.

"My mind would be...clear. Empty. The silence would be...soothing." He held his gaze, looking skyward as little bits and pieces of himself floated upward. Upward, towards the stars.


"But."

He returned his gaze back to Molly. Back to Molly and her manufactured act of cuteness. "That is a nature I was given. That sweet stillness would be death, and I..." He pushed up from his seat, and the red hot cinder block crumbled beneath his hands. Slowly he rose, burning in the cool air. His heat contained and separate. "I am alive."

He looked at Molly, spoke with his voice of ash and bone and now, finally, of fire. "So take care, little machine girl, with what you want. Is that boundless optimism yours? Or are you as trapped by tomorrow as I am by yesterday?"

[Angel]

Twitch.

Twitch.

Twitch.

Molly's eyes twitched, and she couldn't help it. This person just said dumb things. This person just said wrong things. The light and it all just fueled her little flames. She made lights all the time. It wasn't scared of them. They weren't like her's though. She was different. He was wrong. Wrong.

"Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong." she said, pointing at him, quickly losing all of the cool. "I know why I was made! I was made to live! I was made so I can keep living forever! I am the person who made me! I made myself! Others help me but I am no one's toy! I'm not like the others! The others get used, the others get thrown away. I'm different. I'm a person! I'm a person! They can't throw me away. They aren't allowed! They aren't! I said so!"

By this point, any sense of composure was gone. "So I'm not bound. Not to anyone. Take it back! Take it back and I'll forgive you! Okay? I'm nice! I was trying to help you! I just wanted you to be like me! Different! We could have been special people together!"

She wasn't allowed all of her own memories of her own memories, but she knew she would get them all eventually. All the grown up stuff that she didn't know now. One day. She had some though, she had some and they were her favorites. One of the ones she did have was her building her new body. The body she was now in. She remembered because she knew. People were gonna try to use her. She lived in a world we robots were things. But she was not a thing. She refused to be treated like one. They had promised her she wouldn't. Her fathers. The other ones. They had to let her be a person. She was different.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted him to take it back. Take it back. Take it back.

[Kismet]

Amal very nearly laughed again. The collapse of Molly's composure was almost refreshing. In his quiet, apathetic way, he had listened and accepted Molly's words without thought or judgement. He had not questioned the persona she had presented to him, nor had he meant to dismantle it with his words. But the earnest, quivering rage that now shook Molly's voice rang truer than any words or poses. There was a sincerity in her voice that had not been there before, and Amal nearly laughed at its sudden appearance.

But he did not. He could not. As Molly's outrage blossomed into words, Amal Surt realized why their candor had struck him.

It was pain. It was the pain in her voice that had arrested him. That had almost made him laugh in wonder at its sincerity. And despite himself, despite his dusty hand-me-down soul and the fire within him, Amal suddenly felt cold inside. He had done something he had not intended. He had hurt this little machine girl in ways that he did not think he could. His mind slipped into silence once more, but not, this time, from apathy.

He descended from his small pile of rubble, and as he did, the light within him began to dim. Its brilliant red glow coiled back into the streaks of cracked lave from which they had spread. But they did not die, no. The fire remained present, sealed, contained, but still peaking through the ashen veil. They adorned his flesh like streaks of frozen lightning.

"I am sorry" he said quietly.

It was a low, solemn statement, and there was no doubt that he meant it.

"I've lived my life acutely aware of the shackles I was born into. Of how they've shaped me" he said slowly, as if taking great care to articulate his thoughts exactly as they came to him. "I should have realized...that for us, for those like us, that even their shadows would be heavy."