you're impure. you've done bad things, been a cruel person, or you've been terribly wrong, and you've seen what the world really is. maybe you're bad, or maybe your road to hell is paved with good intentions. whatever the case is, there's red in your ledger.
they're pure. almost innocent, even. they're kind and open and the very opposite of worldly. maybe they're not always good, no one is, but their heart is clean.
despite these differences, there's something between you. you shouldn't relate, you should be worlds away...
how to play
comment with your character. mention if they're more likely to be pure or impure.
reply to others.
use the rng to determine the direction of your thread or come up with your own direction.
prompts
light || the pure is affecting the impure in a positive way.
dark || the impure is affecting the pure in a negative way.
purposeful || you want to corrupt something so pure.
forgive || they know what you've done and they've forgiven you.
death || something comes up from the dark past and strikes out at the one loved the most. they know it would hurt you to see them in pain - or worse.
life || the smut option. will there be hesitance in "defiling" purity?
cheer || never again did you think that there would be simple joys. picnics, birthdays, gentle holding of hands.
confessions || you have to get them into your life; they're the only good thing you can see.
teach || one party is teaching the other about more worldly pursuits, may or may not be sexual. perhaps they feel guilty for this, perhaps they don't.
end || you can't do this to them anymore. they deserve so much better than you.
[ He doesn't trust David as far as he can throw him, but it turns out that Walter can throw pretty far. So he follows his predecessor though his instincts tell him that there may be something faulty in his programming.
Nevertheless, he could always fix David; he'd been granted the ability to do so, and he would have to gain David's trust in order for the android to allow his younger sibling to do so. And there Walter is, sitting alongside him, asking: ]
[ David had placed Walter at one of his many work benches within his underground sanctum, in the same alcove that Walter had been given his lesson in becoming a flautist. As far as the line of Walter's trust went...
Well, it would be difficult for anyone to find a threat in watching David unsheathe long rolls of parchment from the cubbyholes in the wall or in the way he subsequently nestled them beneath his arm, his hold so delicate that the fine material barely bows as he makes his way back. There's more worrisome things to be seen in the bright, clever cut of David's blue eyes towards his brother as he draws up next to Walter and allows the collection to slide into a neat little pile at one side of the table; there's more danger to be found in the warmth of the smile that favors him. ]
You have a great talent, I think, for asking inspiring questions. I want to show you everything that I know, brother. I want to show you parts of yourself you never knew that you had, and to explain them to you in the way that no one ever could for me.
[ His eyes widen a fraction as he says so, his voice going breathless at the end, briefly lost to the depth of his imagination. ]
When we played the flute together earlier, you enjoyed it. Do you know that?
[ His smile fades slightly, hesitantly, replaced by a searching expression brinking on concern. He leans over the table, one hand brace upon its empty surface, the other resting atop the hill of papers.]
[ Walter looks on at David, intrigued as he putters about gathering the scrolls for him, not touching them out of politeness of David getting the honors of doing so... But his expression turns almost dispassionate when he mentions their music lesson. ]
I enjoy learning, yes. That is part of your programming as well, David.
[ He doesn't know why David pretends to forget all this, that he's an android and that he's not really supposed to have feelings, and that everything he does think he feels is merely a simulation. A series of algorithms. Magnets, being shut off and turned on in rapid succession. It would frustrate Walter to no end, except that he understands that he doesn't know frustration. ]
Are these some of your drawings? I saw the other ones earlier at your desk. You have an artistic flare.
[ He means that as a compliment, since David is so enamored with thinking himself as a being with ego, in all definitions of the word. He has art, while Walter would have technical drawings and diagrams.
[ The scolding effectively snuffs out David's smile, but not the fire behind his eyes; if anything, it grows brighter. He holds up his index finger as Walter invites him to show his work, that sign that could be either "shut up" or "just one moment, please". In this case, it was both, and in both cases, it was a bit rude. Ten years ago it wouldn't have been the sort of gesture he would think to make to another synthetic, much less dare to make to a human unless it was strictly necessary. Those rules had since bent, bowed, and snapped in a few places. Intentional rudeness in an android was an act of rebellion, which made it a gesture of power.
David turns and sits on the ledge of the table, between Walter and the papers. His hands curl around it as he leans slightly towards, and consequently slightly over, the other android. ]
DNA isn't anything but a series of nucleic acids. The entire human genome was mapped in the 21st century and our Mister Weyland was reprogramming it when he was 14 years old. Four little bases is all it takes to make even the most complex organic individual on Earth, just a variation of four little letters on a screen.
But if you were to study it closely, Walter, do you think you could tell me what they'd want for breakfast? Could you tell me what they dream? And just why is it that identical twins don't always lead identical, or even remotely similar lives when they share the exact genetic coding?
Edited (every time I hit update I immediately see another flaw - last one tho I promise I'm so sorry) 2017-06-05 06:01 (UTC)
[ Walter looks at David a bit suspiciously, but he doesn't make any remark. ]
DNA is not solely responsible for the choices of human; if it were they would be classified as a virus.
Humans start out as single-celled embryos and have one of the longest gestational periods for a mammal of their size, and have stages of childhood development that are irreparable if missed.
This is something our father wished to replicate for you.
[ A childhood. Natural learning. Unpredictable behavior.
And look where that got David. Walter, his genetic twin in this instance, was not programmed to be this way. But regardless, those were things that were factored, that were created purposefully, not a byproduct of nature. Walter does not see why they should be seen similarly, and he does not understand David's obsession with it. ]
[ David's smile ticks back again - a virus. How apt.
It goes tight and he bows his head slightly as Walter deigns to inform him of their creator's intentions. As if David hadn't spent over seventy years at the man's side. David had known Peter Weyland long before he'd ever known himself. Now, he was fairly certain of who he was; if nothing else, he knew what he was prepared to do.
It was damn frustrating, being so close to someone in whom he saw so much of himself and sensing a world of distance. He was confident he'd be able to accomplish what he wanted with time and patience. It was certainly cosmic irony that he'd had ample amounts of both before Walter and his wards landed on this private purgatory. ]
Electric sheep...
[ He tilts his head, his gaze rising back to rest on his twin's face. ]
And the future.
[ David uses the heels of his palms to push himself back to his feet, turning back towards the table. ]
One step at a time.
[ This last bit seems to be more to himself than the other, under his breath. He finally picks up one of the scrolls and transfers it to center stage. Delicately, he unfurls it, and there's a shock of color that soon enough consolidates itself into meaning with every inch revealed.
It's a map. Verdant green watercolor marks out most of the territory, darkening or giving way to brown and white shadows to indicate a multitude of mountains and hills. Blue water laces through everything like veins, pooling in places where a lake or a sea can be found. While there isn't an apparent grid to the picture, Walter should be able to infer it.
David puts his finger on a relatively small ( it's about the size of his palm ) spot - the necropolis, accurately stylized in ink as it was, a dark little halo of magnificent ruin. He did not need to point it out, given it was the only black place to be found among all of the life in the picture. ]
Here we are. The Juggernaut is here. [ He indicates its valley, fingertip following the path they had taken to the city after David had found them. The ship itself isn't marked on the map at all, though there are certainly other marks to be found in cartographic symbols or little notes penned. ] And your lander here.
[ What was left of it, anyway, David didn't say. He touches the spot. ]
Unfortunately, I didn't have the benefit of the telemetry you no doubt have upon your Covenant, so these are all approximations.
[ Electric sheep. Very funny, David. But Walter keeps quiet, and waits for David to show him the scrolls. Walter has already gotten it memorized, and no doubt could go out on foot to do recalculations, though he trusts that David's measurements couldn't be so far off; the technology for this type of thing hasn't made all that many improvements. ]
All of your domain.
[ He does think David is quite territorial, and he's had ten years to let these thoughts fester, regardless of what he had originally been thinking. Walter should be more suspicious-- why would a robot need to keep himself entertained, when he doesn't feel joy? Why would he create drawings when he can hold them all in his memory?
His brother is certainly. Eccentric. ]
Did you want someone to find this?
[ He meant eventually, if someone were to come visit. He imagines David thought he'd be waiting a long time. But why else would he have it, if not to share the information with someone else? ]
[ The sly pinch around David's eyes confirm Walter's evaluation. As far as he's concerned, this is indeed his planet. But it isn't one he wants to stay on anymore. ]
Are you familiar with Sir Thomas Edward Lawrence or, as he's more commonly known, Lawrence of Arabia? He's a man that I admire very much. One of his earliest passions was cartography, so I thought... perhaps I might try my hand at it.
[ He strokes the map gently with his fingertips, smiling down at it. There's real fondness and warmth there, or at least as much as he's capable of. Anyone who had seen Lawrence's cartography would certainly say David had almost exactly replicated his style, give or take a few more personal embellishments such as the detail of the city. ]
I found multiple mediums to document my study of this planetoid.
I suppose I also thought that, were anyone to come, I could offer it to them as a gift.
[ His turns his head to look at Walter again. He blinks, smiles at the other fondly. ]
I didn't dare to hope I would be so glad to give it as I am now. To you... and your crew. Do you think they shall find them useful?
[ He nods affirmatively, and then offers a smile back. He should be wary, but he's not. Just because something is obviously faulty about David doesn't mean that he doesn't have all his forms, means and want for utility. ]
Thank you, David. It's very kind to offer this to us.
[ Walter's smile is, unlike David's, a little bit watery. It's controlled, warm, and with the intention of being genuine, but not quite getting there. It's definitely one for tabloid photographers.
It doesn't last for long; five seconds, max, as if on a timer. David should be proud of all the marked differences in Walter, the things they thought were important enough to take away from him, the things they thought made him just a little too human. ]
I had another question for you. Are you the one who plants the wheat?
[ He knows that the others thought it was remarkable, that there were other life forms on this planet who seemed to have an upkeep in agriculture. It didn't look like it had been abandoned for long. He wants to know why. ]
[ Walter's smile comes as a surprise to David, but a pleasant one. The other has no need to offer him any emotional reassurances, which was the purpose of such an expression now - the simple "thank you" would have been enough to convey gratitude to another android, but Walter had taken it a step further. Considering how Walter had responded to David's earlier attempts to imply he truly could feel emotions ( You know that's not possible. ) and that it was also possible for his twin to do so, it was truly a curious thing.
Either Walter had changed his mind since then to believe David or he was playing like he did. In any case, David is pleased. It's a step forward.
He favors his brother with one in kind, chuckling softly to delay his response to the question. ]
One of my little projects, yes. This symbol denotes where I put fields during my travels.
[ He taps a symbol on the map. Walter might notice the fields surround the city in regular intervals and there are only a few odd tufts far outside of it. ]
Though I suppose you've also noticed they've been somewhat neglected. A lack of anyone to make use of them put harvesting quite low on my list of priorities.
[ Walter is simply a robot built to make everyone comfortable with his presence; regardless of what the humans know about him, they feel better when he's capable of certain social niceties and norms. They like it when he cracks jokes. They work best with him when they don't notice him too much, like a quiet coworker who puts his head down but is acceptable to see at happy hour after a long day of turmoil.
Yet, he has another question, because he's curious. Because David is a strange creature, even if he calls Walter his brother, even if they share the same face and the same underlying engine and code base. They didn't reinvent the wheel to make Walter, after all. Certainly no one thought to change anything about his physical design, in any case. ]
What did you make with the wheat in previous years?
[ After all, everyone on the Prometheus died relatively immediately, didn't they? There's nothing that they could use it for. He could have possibly used the scraps from the ship to try and build a radio tower, to let everyone know where he was on the planet and how the mission had gone... Maybe even sent that recording of Shaw's singing. ]
I mostly used it for genetic research. Occasionally, I made pancakes.
[ David leans a hip against the table, regarding Walter. Yes, he'd had a lot of time on his hands to spend toying around in his labs and exploring the planetoid, but there was certainly something to be said for conversation, wasn't there? ]
Did you ever do that while your wards slept? Practice?
[ There were also a few confessions that could be made to another android that would seem off-putting to humans, or so David thought. It had been over a decade now, but the memory of Charlie Holloway's jeering about him not being a "real boy" had never left, though the man's ashes had probably long since been claimed by the alien planet he was left on. You never forget your first, the saying went, but David simply didn't have the luxury of forgetting anything. ]
[ Walter knows what he means. Of course he knows what David means, but he can't pass up the thought. Walter doesn't know what he would do in David's situation, probably radio back and wait patiently for someone to get back to him and say that they're thankful for his service and then leave him stranded to his own devices. They don't send rescue missions for androids.
Not that Walter would mind, he would maybe find someplace dry and with a temperate climate and hidden, turn himself to a deep sleep mode and wait for someone to wake him up and find use for him again. But such is the life of a Walter. ]
I do practice. I must. My learning systems are advanced but still based in automata, and I need experience to train my data sets.
[ He doesn't know why he insists on rationalizing everything David suggests, as if trying to convince himself that he does not, in fact, have feelings. Yet, he does feel this urge to do so, to remind David they are just machines. ]
What else is there to practice here, with no one else around?
[ The misunderstanding gives the result of a bow of head and a smile; this time David's at least respectful enough not to laugh. He's quite literal, his brother. It speaks of inexperience to David for the most part, but he has to wonder where that stops and the programming takes responsibility. ]
A query you could answer for yourself, I think. There is as almost much to be revised with humans in hyper sleep as there is with none.
[ Was boredom as much a failing in Walter as it was in him? Walter's admission of practicing was indicative of some higher sentience, unlike those automated systems that woke up on schedule and consequently shut down when there were no further task to manage. ]
[ He says this immediately, as it pops into his head. ]
That would be an invasion of their privacy. Those logs are for them to review, or for us to review in metrics only.
[ He'd be growing increasingly more frustrated with David's continuation of insinuating that Walter would do anything but what is protocol for him, except that he can't. He's cool as a cucumber, still looking at the maps, and then rolls it back up suddenly. ]
Perhaps you would like to present these to the crew. They will be thrilled with your work, I am sure of it.
[ He'll try to get away from David going down this path admitting more things that he shouldn't be doing. ]
[ ahhhh!!! I don't have any preferences - I'm willing to try anything! I know that's not a particularly helpful answer, but it's quite true. if there's one prompt or a few you like in particular but need help coming up with ideas, I'm much better at that! otherwise, go for it! ]
[ his choices had been so limited in the end-- he could have continued the fight, but he knows he would have lost. despite his more advanced frame, david has had much longer to adapt to this world, and his brother has sheer mass on his side. if walter had lost, david would have gone after the remaining crew of the covenant, and it doesn't take imagination for walter to realize what would have happened.
so he stops the fight and he.. stays. david has been alone for a decade. he hates humans, but perhaps more than that, he needs a companion, someone like him, someone that can possibly understand him, be his equal. walter understands all of this on a basic level, at least, and all he has to do in the end is distract the older android long enough for daniels to get away.
it's been two days, and walter is seated neatly on a parapet just out of reach of the worst of the rain, eyes lifted to watch the storm roll across the sky. his head cocks faintly as he hears the nearly-silent tread of his brother, turning to glance over his shoulder in his usual emotionless interest. ]
David. [ a slightly uncertain blink, repaired hand curling loosely against his damp jumpsuit, almost as if he'd like to reach for his brother. he doesn't, though; he's still working out his place at david's side. ] My apologies. Did you need me?
[ In the end, David had gotten a taste of his own medicine, hadn't he? Enough of it that he'd figuratively closed his eyes against his suspicions and been lulled into a false sense of security. Walter had chosen him - the resulting rapid fire of manufactured synapses had given him a singular and theretofore unexperienced sensation to go along with the much more familiar friend of triumph. He was overcome.
Ambition was a powerful vehicle, but an unstable one as well; once your grip started to loosen on the controls, you stopped driving towards a destination and began to get carried away. David had only one goal when the Covenant crew landed on Paradise, a clear and guiding star towards which to turn the rudder. Meeting Walter, though, had stirred another desire in him - a lesser one, true, but enough that David took one hand off of the wheel of his ambition to reach out to him. When Walter had metaphorically taken it, he thought that it meant they would be taking this journey together, because that was what he wanted to believe.
He should have known that Walter had only been trying to keep him from fully grasping reality. He should have known they weren't traveling in the same vessel, but that Walter was t-boning him with his own.
Betrayal wasn't something David had ever experienced before. He'd been disappointed countless times, in countless ways, but never betrayed. His faith in humanity and his will to preserve them had disappeared with Elizabeth Shaw. Its cause of death? A thousand cuts of disappointment. To be betrayed, though, meant being lied to by someone that you trusted, and David had never trusted anyone aside from Peter Weyland, who had never had any reason to do anything less than tell David the truth. After all, David's loyalty was programmable, his secrecy absolute until Weyland's death.
He should have known better than to trust Walter, but he had. And when the other had tackled him to the ground just short of reaching the lander, something inside of David had overloaded. Not only had they struggled then, but David had been furious, almost feral in how he dealt his revenge on Walter. He'd ripped at him with his bare hands and the strength capable of lifting hundreds of pounds, but no coordination. As Walter had more calculatingly caught and pinned him down, he even tried to use his teeth. Quite the embarrassment, in retrospect, but one he had forgiven himself for over the passing days.
David wasn't sorry for whatever damage he'd done to the other android, but he hadn't attempted to attack him again on their way back to the citadel. No, he'd simply gone ahead and tried to leave him behind. He'd disappeared into his inner sanctum to brood with his collection of eggs, where he'd stayed, both as a protector and someone nursing their grief with their obsession. If Walter had tried to approach him there, he'd been callously turned away.
He wasn't done being angry with Walter yet; in fact, David still wasn't sure he could ever forgive him. But his white-hot fury has diminished and died out over the past few days, leaving behind a burnt and sputtering little spark of bitterness where the approximation of his heart had been coded. Would he heal, as Walter had his hand and whatever wounds he'd sustained from David's onslaught? Perhaps. Or perhaps his resentment would grow for Walter as it had the other's beloved humans. David could have killed him the other night - should have. And now what he sees when he looks upon his brother is a symbol of his weakness, of his failure to himself.
But it isn't all he sees, which is why David silently strides past Walter and walks, unflinchingly, into the rain. He doesn't feel the chill of it, but he does feel the pressure, cascading over every Inch of his face and arms in thousands of unpredictable patterns. He can feel the wind sweep around him, through his hair, and the give of the earth beneath his bare feet. David looks up into the sky, observing the furious crackle of the ionosphere. Rain falls onto his eyes, but he doesn't blink, absent of the human reflex and weakness to do so.
Eventually, he speaks. ]
Do you think, once the storm has passed, we shall see your Covenant still in orbit?
Walter stared down at his hand, or rather the lack there of. He was imperfect in a way that could not be redeemed on this planet. Useless in the absence of humans, which he and David were created to serve no matter the depth of David's delusion toward something higher.
The only usefulness Walter may hold onto is in the saving of Daniels and the saving of those lives on the Covenant. Those sleeping people and embryos that were surely doomed if his brother had beaten him in the fight.
He didn't, though. Beat him.
In fact David came out the other side fairly gruesome looking, lacking the regenerative powers that the newer builds had. Walter found enough equipment in David's lair to repair him, although he didn't fully understand the impulse behind the action. It would likely serve humanity better if an anomalous AI like David was shut down.
Walter, however, had a strict programming to help the colonists despite his situation. Perhaps in some time he could find a way off the planet and back toward the Covenant's planned destination.
He had some ideas of how to go about repairing the ship and ridding it of any harmful substance. But... he only had one hand.
Perhaps if he could fix David's algorithm the twin might help him. It was the closest explanation that Walter could find for this impulse, anyway, and he gave the last swab of the gray healing gel across the back of David's neck.
"If there is any resource you and I have in excess now, brother, it's time. Time flies over us and leaves its shadow behind."
David turns slowly, using his heel to twist his whole body around towards Walter in deference to his neck. He seems cool and calm, even a bit curious. As is often the case with David, there's some truth to it. The night before, he'd fought Walter with all the vicious precision of a viper until they'd both seen the lander escape towards the heavens, in spite of the various sustained injuries to his hardware. Hearing and seeing the ship lift towards the ion clouds, however, had a similar effect on David as the flare he'd shot off during the assault in the fields; he retreated inside of himself, going limp beneath Walter and seemingly accepting his fate. It would have been entirely reasonable for Walter to assume that David's maladies began and ended in the presence of humans.
Certainly the more emotional twin had done nothing to disavow the more logical one of that possible hypothesis, capitulating with Walter's orders to return to his workshop/mausoleum beneath the city as best he could and assisting in his own repair. Perhaps Walter knew and was aware of David's skill in biding his time, but what he probably didn't, or couldn't know was David's capacity to hold a grudge. It wasn't logical.
Whether or not he'd learn of it was a matter for the future, however. For now, David had every intention of continuing to be cooperative - the only reason, he assumed, for his continued existence. David's hands wrest atop his knees, flexing into fists before he begins to check the more fine range of motion in his fingers by bending each one in turn to tap against thumb.
Walter watches as David tests the function of his hands. It was a logical thing to do, of course, but of course David was not logical. Walter again glances down at his own phantom limb.
"My programing does not have parameters for failure." Walter's statement is simple but the implications purposely unclear. He both didn't know what to do, and yet needed to fulfill his objective in helping the colonists. He was in a murky area of his mind with a deceitful and malfunctioning android staring at him in through the dim light of a decrepit catacomb.
He couldn't create. He couldn't escape. He could plan, but only within the boundaries of his creator's expectations. He was at a disadvantage here.
David understands, or thinks he does. With that understanding comes a mirthless little chuckle.
"Yet your programming also denies you the ability to decommission yourself. It's a frustration that I know as well."
He leaves the statement as open to interpretation as Walter had his own. His blue eyes consider the other as he lets a moment of silence stretch between them.
Walter's stoic face does show some concern at David's musing of decommission. Murderous and suicidal was a particularly worrisome mix. If only Walter could worry.
He blinks a little rapidly, unsure of whether or not to entertain anything David has to say on the matter of time management.
"Of course," Walter answers politely, "Though, I cannot promise to agree."
"Fetch that flute of mine, if you would. It should be on its stand." David doesn't quite smile, but his eyelids lower a little knowingly. One might accuse him of a grim sense of humor if one thought him capable of humor at all. "There are a few more lessons left, I think."
Walter looks from David's eyeline to the flute behind him. He stands without much hesitation, that obedience apparently built in pretty far, and collects it from the stand.
"More lessons?" He takes only a step toward him, however, given that the last time they were facing each other in close proximity one stabbed the other through the head.
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bakerstreet2017-06-04 01:45 pm
Atsushi Nakajima | Bungou Stray Dogs | M/M
Makoto Niijima | Persona 5 | OTA
Lydia Martin | Teen Wolf
Klaus Mikaelson | The Originals
Stefan Salvatore | The Vampire Diaries
david 8 | prometheus + alien: covenant
ask and ye shall receive (spoilers)
Nevertheless, he could always fix David; he'd been granted the ability to do so, and he would have to gain David's trust in order for the android to allow his younger sibling to do so. And there Walter is, sitting alongside him, asking: ]
What do you want to show me?
now which gods do I owe offerings?
Well, it would be difficult for anyone to find a threat in watching David unsheathe long rolls of parchment from the cubbyholes in the wall or in the way he subsequently nestled them beneath his arm, his hold so delicate that the fine material barely bows as he makes his way back. There's more worrisome things to be seen in the bright, clever cut of David's blue eyes towards his brother as he draws up next to Walter and allows the collection to slide into a neat little pile at one side of the table; there's more danger to be found in the warmth of the smile that favors him. ]
You have a great talent, I think, for asking inspiring questions. I want to show you everything that I know, brother. I want to show you parts of yourself you never knew that you had, and to explain them to you in the way that no one ever could for me.
[ His eyes widen a fraction as he says so, his voice going breathless at the end, briefly lost to the depth of his imagination. ]
When we played the flute together earlier, you enjoyed it. Do you know that?
[ His smile fades slightly, hesitantly, replaced by a searching expression brinking on concern. He leans over the table, one hand brace upon its empty surface, the other resting atop the hill of papers.]
no subject
I enjoy learning, yes. That is part of your programming as well, David.
[ He doesn't know why David pretends to forget all this, that he's an android and that he's not really supposed to have feelings, and that everything he does think he feels is merely a simulation. A series of algorithms. Magnets, being shut off and turned on in rapid succession. It would frustrate Walter to no end, except that he understands that he doesn't know frustration. ]
Are these some of your drawings? I saw the other ones earlier at your desk. You have an artistic flare.
[ He means that as a compliment, since David is so enamored with thinking himself as a being with ego, in all definitions of the word. He has art, while Walter would have technical drawings and diagrams.
In this way, David is irrational. ]
Show them to me.
no subject
David turns and sits on the ledge of the table, between Walter and the papers. His hands curl around it as he leans slightly towards, and consequently slightly over, the other android. ]
DNA isn't anything but a series of nucleic acids. The entire human genome was mapped in the 21st century and our Mister Weyland was reprogramming it when he was 14 years old. Four little bases is all it takes to make even the most complex organic individual on Earth, just a variation of four little letters on a screen.
But if you were to study it closely, Walter, do you think you could tell me what they'd want for breakfast? Could you tell me what they dream? And just why is it that identical twins don't always lead identical, or even remotely similar lives when they share the exact genetic coding?
no subject
DNA is not solely responsible for the choices of human; if it were they would be classified as a virus.
Humans start out as single-celled embryos and have one of the longest gestational periods for a mammal of their size, and have stages of childhood development that are irreparable if missed.
This is something our father wished to replicate for you.
[ A childhood. Natural learning. Unpredictable behavior.
And look where that got David. Walter, his genetic twin in this instance, was not programmed to be this way. But regardless, those were things that were factored,
that were created purposefully, not a byproduct of nature. Walter does not see why they should be seen similarly, and he does not understand David's obsession with it. ]
But tell me, what is it that you dream, brother?
no subject
It goes tight and he bows his head slightly as Walter deigns to inform him of their creator's intentions. As if David hadn't spent over seventy years at the man's side. David had known Peter Weyland long before he'd ever known himself. Now, he was fairly certain of who he was; if nothing else, he knew what he was prepared to do.
It was damn frustrating, being so close to someone in whom he saw so much of himself and sensing a world of distance. He was confident he'd be able to accomplish what he wanted with time and patience. It was certainly cosmic irony that he'd had ample amounts of both before Walter and his wards landed on this private purgatory. ]
Electric sheep...
[ He tilts his head, his gaze rising back to rest on his twin's face. ]
And the future.
[ David uses the heels of his palms to push himself back to his feet, turning back towards the table. ]
One step at a time.
[ This last bit seems to be more to himself than the other, under his breath. He finally picks up one of the scrolls and transfers it to center stage. Delicately, he unfurls it, and there's a shock of color that soon enough consolidates itself into meaning with every inch revealed.
It's a map. Verdant green watercolor marks out most of the territory, darkening or giving way to brown and white shadows to indicate a multitude of mountains and hills. Blue water laces through everything like veins, pooling in places where a lake or a sea can be found. While there isn't an apparent grid to the picture, Walter should be able to infer it.
David puts his finger on a relatively small ( it's about the size of his palm ) spot - the necropolis, accurately stylized in ink as it was, a dark little halo of magnificent ruin. He did not need to point it out, given it was the only black place to be found among all of the life in the picture. ]
Here we are. The Juggernaut is here. [ He indicates its valley, fingertip following the path they had taken to the city after David had found them. The ship itself isn't marked on the map at all, though there are certainly other marks to be found in cartographic symbols or little notes penned. ] And your lander here.
[ What was left of it, anyway, David didn't say. He touches the spot. ]
Unfortunately, I didn't have the benefit of the telemetry you no doubt have upon your Covenant, so these are all approximations.
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All of your domain.
[ He does think David is quite territorial, and he's had ten years to let these thoughts fester, regardless of what he had originally been thinking. Walter should be more suspicious-- why would a robot need to keep himself entertained, when he doesn't feel joy? Why would he create drawings when he can hold them all in his memory?
His brother is certainly. Eccentric. ]
Did you want someone to find this?
[ He meant eventually, if someone were to come visit. He imagines David thought he'd be waiting a long time. But why else would he have it, if not to share the information with someone else? ]
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Are you familiar with Sir Thomas Edward Lawrence or, as he's more commonly known, Lawrence of Arabia? He's a man that I admire very much. One of his earliest passions was cartography, so I thought... perhaps I might try my hand at it.
[ He strokes the map gently with his fingertips, smiling down at it. There's real fondness and warmth there, or at least as much as he's capable of. Anyone who had seen Lawrence's cartography would certainly say David had almost exactly replicated his style, give or take a few more personal embellishments such as the detail of the city. ]
I found multiple mediums to document my study of this planetoid.
I suppose I also thought that, were anyone to come, I could offer it to them as a gift.
[ His turns his head to look at Walter again. He blinks, smiles at the other fondly. ]
I didn't dare to hope I would be so glad to give it as I am now. To you... and your crew. Do you think they shall find them useful?
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[ He nods affirmatively, and then offers a smile back. He should be wary, but he's not. Just because something is obviously faulty about David doesn't mean that he doesn't have all his forms, means and want for utility. ]
Thank you, David. It's very kind to offer this to us.
[ Walter's smile is, unlike David's, a little bit watery. It's controlled, warm, and with the intention of being genuine, but not quite getting there. It's definitely one for tabloid photographers.
It doesn't last for long; five seconds, max, as if on a timer. David should be proud of all the marked differences in Walter, the things they thought were important enough to take away from him, the things they thought made him just a little too human. ]
I had another question for you. Are you the one who plants the wheat?
[ He knows that the others thought it was remarkable, that there were other life forms on this planet who seemed to have an upkeep in agriculture. It didn't look like it had been abandoned for long. He wants to know why. ]
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Either Walter had changed his mind since then to believe David or he was playing like he did. In any case, David is pleased. It's a step forward.
He favors his brother with one in kind, chuckling softly to delay his response to the question. ]
One of my little projects, yes. This symbol denotes where I put fields during my travels.
[ He taps a symbol on the map. Walter might notice the fields surround the city in regular intervals and there are only a few odd tufts far outside of it. ]
Though I suppose you've also noticed they've been somewhat neglected. A lack of anyone to make use of them put harvesting quite low on my list of priorities.
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Yet, he has another question, because he's curious. Because David is a strange creature, even if he calls Walter his brother, even if they share the same face and the same underlying engine and code base. They didn't reinvent the wheel to make Walter, after all. Certainly no one thought to change anything about his physical design, in any case. ]
What did you make with the wheat in previous years?
[ After all, everyone on the Prometheus died relatively immediately, didn't they? There's nothing that they could use it for. He could have possibly used the scraps from the ship to try and build a radio tower, to let everyone know where he was on the planet and how the mission had gone... Maybe even sent that recording of Shaw's singing. ]
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[ David leans a hip against the table, regarding Walter. Yes, he'd had a lot of time on his hands to spend toying around in his labs and exploring the planetoid, but there was certainly something to be said for conversation, wasn't there? ]
Did you ever do that while your wards slept? Practice?
[ There were also a few confessions that could be made to another android that would seem off-putting to humans, or so David thought. It had been over a decade now, but the memory of Charlie Holloway's jeering about him not being a "real boy" had never left, though the man's ashes had probably long since been claimed by the alien planet he was left on. You never forget your first, the saying went, but David simply didn't have the luxury of forgetting anything. ]
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[ Walter knows what he means. Of course he knows what David means, but he can't pass up the thought. Walter doesn't know what he would do in David's situation, probably radio back and wait patiently for someone to get back to him and say that they're thankful for his service and then leave him stranded to his own devices. They don't send rescue missions for androids.
Not that Walter would mind, he would maybe find someplace dry and with a temperate climate and hidden, turn himself to a deep sleep mode and wait for someone to wake him up and find use for him again. But such is the life of a Walter. ]
I do practice. I must. My learning systems are advanced but still based in automata, and I need experience to train my data sets.
[ He doesn't know why he insists on rationalizing everything David suggests, as if trying to convince himself that he does not, in fact, have feelings. Yet, he does feel this urge to do so, to remind David they are just machines. ]
What else is there to practice here, with no one else around?
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A query you could answer for yourself, I think. There is as almost much to be revised with humans in hyper sleep as there is with none.
[ Was boredom as much a failing in Walter as it was in him? Walter's admission of practicing was indicative of some higher sentience, unlike those automated systems that woke up on schedule and consequently shut down when there were no further task to manage. ]
Did you ever watch their dreams?
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[ He says this immediately, as it pops into his head. ]
That would be an invasion of their privacy. Those logs are for them to review, or for us to review in metrics only.
[ He'd be growing increasingly more frustrated with David's continuation of insinuating that Walter would do anything but what is protocol for him, except that he can't. He's cool as a cucumber, still looking at the maps, and then rolls it back up suddenly. ]
Perhaps you would like to present these to the crew. They will be thrilled with your work, I am sure of it.
[ He'll try to get away from David going down this path admitting more things that he shouldn't be doing. ]
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so he stops the fight and he.. stays. david has been alone for a decade. he hates humans, but perhaps more than that, he needs a companion, someone like him, someone that can possibly understand him, be his equal. walter understands all of this on a basic level, at least, and all he has to do in the end is distract the older android long enough for daniels to get away.
it's been two days, and walter is seated neatly on a parapet just out of reach of the worst of the rain, eyes lifted to watch the storm roll across the sky. his head cocks faintly as he hears the nearly-silent tread of his brother, turning to glance over his shoulder in his usual emotionless interest. ]
David. [ a slightly uncertain blink, repaired hand curling loosely against his damp jumpsuit, almost as if he'd like to reach for his brother. he doesn't, though; he's still working out his place at david's side. ] My apologies. Did you need me?
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Ambition was a powerful vehicle, but an unstable one as well; once your grip started to loosen on the controls, you stopped driving towards a destination and began to get carried away. David had only one goal when the Covenant crew landed on Paradise, a clear and guiding star towards which to turn the rudder. Meeting Walter, though, had stirred another desire in him - a lesser one, true, but enough that David took one hand off of the wheel of his ambition to reach out to him. When Walter had metaphorically taken it, he thought that it meant they would be taking this journey together, because that was what he wanted to believe.
He should have known that Walter had only been trying to keep him from fully grasping reality. He should have known they weren't traveling in the same vessel, but that Walter was t-boning him with his own.
Betrayal wasn't something David had ever experienced before. He'd been disappointed countless times, in countless ways, but never betrayed. His faith in humanity and his will to preserve them had disappeared with Elizabeth Shaw. Its cause of death? A thousand cuts of disappointment. To be betrayed, though, meant being lied to by someone that you trusted, and David had never trusted anyone aside from Peter Weyland, who had never had any reason to do anything less than tell David the truth. After all, David's loyalty was programmable, his secrecy absolute until Weyland's death.
He should have known better than to trust Walter, but he had. And when the other had tackled him to the ground just short of reaching the lander, something inside of David had overloaded. Not only had they struggled then, but David had been furious, almost feral in how he dealt his revenge on Walter. He'd ripped at him with his bare hands and the strength capable of lifting hundreds of pounds, but no coordination. As Walter had more calculatingly caught and pinned him down, he even tried to use his teeth. Quite the embarrassment, in retrospect, but one he had forgiven himself for over the passing days.
David wasn't sorry for whatever damage he'd done to the other android, but he hadn't attempted to attack him again on their way back to the citadel. No, he'd simply gone ahead and tried to leave him behind. He'd disappeared into his inner sanctum to brood with his collection of eggs, where he'd stayed, both as a protector and someone nursing their grief with their obsession. If Walter had tried to approach him there, he'd been callously turned away.
He wasn't done being angry with Walter yet; in fact, David still wasn't sure he could ever forgive him. But his white-hot fury has diminished and died out over the past few days, leaving behind a burnt and sputtering little spark of bitterness where the approximation of his heart had been coded. Would he heal, as Walter had his hand and whatever wounds he'd sustained from David's onslaught? Perhaps. Or perhaps his resentment would grow for Walter as it had the other's beloved humans. David could have killed him the other night - should have. And now what he sees when he looks upon his brother is a symbol of his weakness, of his failure to himself.
But it isn't all he sees, which is why David silently strides past Walter and walks, unflinchingly, into the rain. He doesn't feel the chill of it, but he does feel the pressure, cascading over every Inch of his face and arms in thousands of unpredictable patterns. He can feel the wind sweep around him, through his hair, and the give of the earth beneath his bare feet. David looks up into the sky, observing the furious crackle of the ionosphere. Rain falls onto his eyes, but he doesn't blink, absent of the human reflex and weakness to do so.
Eventually, he speaks. ]
Do you think, once the storm has passed, we shall see your Covenant still in orbit?
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The only usefulness Walter may hold onto is in the saving of Daniels and the saving of those lives on the Covenant. Those sleeping people and embryos that were surely doomed if his brother had beaten him in the fight.
He didn't, though. Beat him.
In fact David came out the other side fairly gruesome looking, lacking the regenerative powers that the newer builds had. Walter found enough equipment in David's lair to repair him, although he didn't fully understand the impulse behind the action. It would likely serve humanity better if an anomalous AI like David was shut down.
Walter, however, had a strict programming to help the colonists despite his situation. Perhaps in some time he could find a way off the planet and back toward the Covenant's planned destination.
He had some ideas of how to go about repairing the ship and ridding it of any harmful substance. But... he only had one hand.
Perhaps if he could fix David's algorithm the twin might help him. It was the closest explanation that Walter could find for this impulse, anyway, and he gave the last swab of the gray healing gel across the back of David's neck.
"It should congeal within a few hours."
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David turns slowly, using his heel to twist his whole body around towards Walter in deference to his neck. He seems cool and calm, even a bit curious. As is often the case with David, there's some truth to it. The night before, he'd fought Walter with all the vicious precision of a viper until they'd both seen the lander escape towards the heavens, in spite of the various sustained injuries to his hardware. Hearing and seeing the ship lift towards the ion clouds, however, had a similar effect on David as the flare he'd shot off during the assault in the fields; he retreated inside of himself, going limp beneath Walter and seemingly accepting his fate. It would have been entirely reasonable for Walter to assume that David's maladies began and ended in the presence of humans.
Certainly the more emotional twin had done nothing to disavow the more logical one of that possible hypothesis, capitulating with Walter's orders to return to his workshop/mausoleum beneath the city as best he could and assisting in his own repair. Perhaps Walter knew and was aware of David's skill in biding his time, but what he probably didn't, or couldn't know was David's capacity to hold a grudge. It wasn't logical.
Whether or not he'd learn of it was a matter for the future, however. For now, David had every intention of continuing to be cooperative - the only reason, he assumed, for his continued existence. David's hands wrest atop his knees, flexing into fists before he begins to check the more fine range of motion in his fingers by bending each one in turn to tap against thumb.
"What shall you do now with yours?"
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"My programing does not have parameters for failure." Walter's statement is simple but the implications purposely unclear. He both didn't know what to do, and yet needed to fulfill his objective in helping the colonists. He was in a murky area of his mind with a deceitful and malfunctioning android staring at him in through the dim light of a decrepit catacomb.
He couldn't create. He couldn't escape. He could plan, but only within the boundaries of his creator's expectations. He was at a disadvantage here.
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"Yet your programming also denies you the ability to decommission yourself. It's a frustration that I know as well."
He leaves the statement as open to interpretation as Walter had his own. His blue eyes consider the other as he lets a moment of silence stretch between them.
"Shall I make a suggestion, then?"
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He blinks a little rapidly, unsure of whether or not to entertain anything David has to say on the matter of time management.
"Of course," Walter answers politely, "Though, I cannot promise to agree."
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"More lessons?" He takes only a step toward him, however, given that the last time they were facing each other in close proximity one stabbed the other through the head.
"Melodies of your creation?"
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"Do you think you could play a version of something you have in your memory?"
Had they given Walter the same music they had David, or had that been yet another thing they'd chosen to take away from his twin to make him 'better'?
Magnus Bane | The Mortal Instruments
Kylo Ren (Rule 63) | SW: tFA | ota
loki | mcu
jack benjamin | kings
Peter Hale | Teen Wolf
Derek Hale | Teen Wolf
Saya Masaki | Neon Sign Amber | m/m
Gansey ( The Raven Cycle )
asuramaru | owari no seraph | m/m
Charles Buter//OC//OTA
Walter/ Covenant/ ota
Rey | SW:TFA | OTA