anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

[ His eyes narrow as he straightens, watching the armor pieces fall away. ]

...what are you doing?

[ He's gone tense, but he's not moving to stop him. Not yet. Getting that containment unit was one thing, but was York seriously planning on just sticking that thing into his head, without any sort of preliminary precaution?

He knew the system better than Locus did, but that seemed very unwise. ]

Changing.

[ It's something methodical and normal enough for him to calm the fuck down. Gradually his hands steady as more of the armor comes off, slotted neatly into his storage locker. ]

There's no real way to scan the contents and I don't have anything else to plug it into. If it's empty, fuck all happens. If it's D- I'll probably cry a little, not gonna lie. If it's anything else I'll try to react accordingly but knock me out and pull it.

If I can pull it.

[ Locus's jaw works tightly. It's his choice, but there are a number of risks to be taken into account. Risks he doesn't think Taylor's fully considered yet, even if he appears to be bracing for them. ]

We don't know for certain what's on there, if the data's corrupted...how it might affect you.

An AI is and isn't like a data file. It's either cognizant and aware and communicative in some way or another, even Epsilon was- or it isn't. At least in theory, fuck knows if this is gonna work.

Also why you're staying in the suit.

[ He'll be faster, stronger, better able to do something if York loses his damn mind. Down to the undersuit and this is probably the least contact he's had while changing out- fucking afterward isn't always a thing but it's a pretty normal celebration. Tee, sweats, suit locked up and it's just him barefoot, that thing on the table, and Locus armored up. ]

And what if it affects you? What if it manages to cause damage before I can pull it?

[ There has to be another way, a safer way, one that doesn't involve him putting himself at the most possible risk.

It's concern, in his own way, even if he won't tell him not to, won't try to dissuade him if this is what he really wants. But like Hell he won't say anything at all. He's past that unquestioning phase of his life. ]

You told me what Epsilon did to Agent Washington. We can't afford that happening to you. Not now.

Sudden surge of suicidal urges and a massive guilt complex? Nothing new.

[ It's been awhile, a long fucking while since he's taken a good look at a sidearm and thought 'what if', only because getting shot hurts and he's pretty sure he'd fuck it up. But the basic concept isn't that different.

Still.

He's got a point. Taylor skims a hand through his hair, fingers going tight as he tries to run through safe alternatives and coming up empty, tension winding so tight in his shoulders and spine that he feels like he's shaking.

Probably because he is. ]

There has to be a way to see what's inside without risking harm to you in the process.

[ Locus Greatly Disapproves. But if this is the course he's set on taking, he can be here to pick up the pieces if things go wrong. If there's anything left to pick up. It would be cruel to give him this opportunity only to deny him that closure, that certainty.

It jeopardizes their mission, which is far more important than a single AI. And some smaller, uglier part is furious that Taylor would risk what they have for the chance of having Delta back, even if he'd suspected that would be the case for a long time now. Finally, he lets out a breath, gesturing to the containment unit. ]

But it's up to you.

FLISS doesn't have any scanning tech that wouldn't involve connecting it to the ship and even if it is D that's exposing him to flight controls and FLISS' data. She can hold up pretty well but he's a sneaky fuck.

[ Taylor would know, he taught him how. ]

Maybe- fuck. [ Breathe. It's just a job, but it's not a job, it's D. It's the other half of that hole in his brain that he'd gotten used to because there wasn't ever an alternative. ] You're right. I'm not think'n clear.

[ Compromised would be the word. All because of a storage unit that may or may not have Delta in it, and even if it does, who knows what version of D it is? Taylor digs his nails in for a moment before turning away from the time bomb on the table, taking the few steps to close the distance between him and Locus. Thuds his head against his shoulder and tries to breathe. ]

...he was your partner.

[ It's quiet, as is the gentle hand that lifts to cup against the back of his head. Breathe. That's all he needs to do right now. The mission's complete, and they'll find a way to take a look at the device one way or another.

Hargrove didn't have the means or he might have dug him out of there already. Locus tries to think, processing what he knew about the entire ordeal. Alpha. The fragments. The Director.

Who had been found in a base no one had known of prior. ]

Are there any remaining Freelancer bases Hargrove might not be aware of? Most would have been stripped and dismantled, but if there's even one left...

This was the last one. Everything else has either been stripped or blown up or looted to fuck.

[ Deep, even breaths. Some of that trembling tension eases a little with Locus steadying him. There's gotta be a way. Gotta be something. ]

I could...rig something with one of the helmets. Isolate the system, shut off the broadcasting and network connections, plug it in there.

[ See what happens. ]

Just long enough to see what we're dealing with.

[ That's all he's asking for. A little caution. A little rationality. After all that's transpired, after they've come this far, to have something threaten that now...

He wants him to have this, truly. He does. He wouldn't have told him otherwise. ]

And this-

[ He mumbles, thudding his forehead against Locus' shoulder. ]

Is why I have you. Keep me from doing stupid shit.

[ Among other things, but right now? That's the most important aspect of their partnership. After another moment or so of breathing and trying to get his hands to calm the fuck down he peels away to tug out his helmet and gets to work. Cuts out network access, radio transmission, bumps up holographic projection. Popping open the AI unit makes him twitch because-

He knows that chip. He knows that shade of green, that letter. ]

Fuck.

[ Locus's hand settles on his shoulder. It's alright. It's going to work itself out one or another, and either way he's not going to be alone.

Just maybe less alone in one case than another.

His eyes fall on that chip, and he doesn't know why, but something anxious twists at his gut. Something he promptly pushes down and ignores. ]

Could be nothing.

[ Manage your expectations, Taylor. He sucks in a slow breath and plucks it out, slotting it into the helmet and just.

Stares.

Waits for the isolated power source to ping online and give them some kind of indication. ]

Initializing...

[ A little green armored figure flares to life, and something inside Taylor cracks. ]

[ Just hold fast. Hold steady. It's responding, that's a good sign. When the little figure appears, he's reminded of Epsilon, save instead of the light blue glow, it's a brilliant emerald green.

So this is Delta.

Suddenly, the green accents Taylor has adopted make a lot more sense. ]

[ For a moment he can't find words- then he swallows, shrugs and offers a semi-cheerful: ]

Hey D.

York?

[ The figure flickers, helmet tilting up to meet his eyes. ]

Real quick- last thing you remember? [ No his voice isn't rough no his hands aren't shaking no he's not a mess. ]

Accompanying Agent Washington in an attempt to lure and hunt The Meta. My last full backup is prior to Caboose' collapse and my own capture.

[ Holy shit. After he'd been 'killed'. York swallows, shakes off his trepidation and commands, ]

D, Retire.

Retiring- [ The green figure blinks out, no questions asked. ]

...Seems legit to me. Thoughts?

Edited 2016-08-18 20:12 (UTC)

You know more about the AI than I do.

[ And now that he's aware of the risks, aware of the concerns, not just chasing back after old ghosts, Locus trusts him to make a call he can live with.

Those fingers squeeze his shoulder again. ]

If you believe it's safe, I'll take you at your word.

I'm gonna need help.

[ Because for the life of him, his hands won't stop fucking shaking and it's- frustrating and he needs to line the chip up properly and he can't do that if he can't hold his hands still.

He's gentle as anything as he plucks the chip out of the helmet, other hand reaching back to poke at the hard node at the nape of his neck. ]

[ The one spot he never touches. Never comes close to. He knows better, has stayed far away from it, to the point that even York place his hand there on purpose has him tensing up with some innate sense of wrongness.

But it's what he needs from him, now.

Quietly, he hold out a hand. Whatever he wants him to do, he'll do. Either keep his hand steady, or do it himself. ]

[ Little tremors in his shoulders that get worse from elbow to wrist to fingertip and he can't- it's been so long. He can't line it up but the guides are there. Little white divots surrounding that node where the feet need to go.

Taylor swallows and rests his forehead against Locus' shoulder, offering the chip. ]

Just...line it up and press down. There'll be some resistance, that's normal.

[ This, perhaps, the most intimate thing he's asked him to do, to date. That thought doesn't escape notice, even as he nods, taking the chip carefully into hand. It weighs so little, and he remembers vaguely some talk about 'weight of a soul' between some older people in his mother's church, growing up. Odd time to think of it, now.

Regardless, he stroke a hand across the back of his head before cradling, gently. Holding him steady, reassuring, as the chip finds its way to that node. Then, two fingers press, and even when it catches, continue to press in until it fits solidly with a 'click'. ]

[ As soon as the chip's handed over Taylor's grip drops to loop around Locus' waist. Something about him in the armor makes him twice as solid. Twice as safe. A little untouchable but- this is his partner.

Partners.

Trusting him with this is only a little more difficult than trusting Locus with himself when he's outside his own mind but he's delicate about it. Shows all the consideration Taylor has come to expect. The press is painful at first, that's not new. But the pinch and sting gives way to that click, to all those wires in the back of his mind lighting up with Green safe partner DELTA so damn quick his knees buckle. ]

[ Taylor--!

He swiftly moves to grab him around the waist with one arm, holding him upright, and something cold sinks to the bottom of his stomach. He might have just made a terrible, terrible mistake, but he can't think like that right now. There's no sense dealing in what-ifs, only what is. And what is, is...

Slowly, he takes to a knee, still holding him securely, waiting for some sign that he's alright, that any of this has gone the way it should. Or, failing that, any sign he should rip it right back out again. ]

[ Deep breaths. Deep breaths that become a hitched sob in short order and yeah. Tears. He's whole again in ways he hasn't felt since-

Well. Since he nearly died. The information exchange, the surge of emotions, the sudden embrace of cool clamoring green in the back of his mind twists and tangles and shifts faster than his body can keep up- grief-relief-resentment-contrition-JOY that he can't quite even out his breathing. Can't quite settle but his hands cling and his forehead grinds into Locus' shoulder, eyes damp as the sobs become quiet laughter. ]

Fuck-

[ Back. He's back he's here he's safe and they are safe with Locus. ]

I'm- [ Slow, everything is taking so goddamn long to say and he'd forgotten how quick and easy it is to talk to someone in his own head. ] I'm- I'm good.

[ He's so completely out his depth here it's a wonder he trusts him at all. Yet trust him does and, as ever, he wants to prove worthy of that trust. Even if that's doing nothing more than holding him while this thing washes through him.

Completion. Finding an answer for the echoes in your mind. What would that feel like, he wonders?

Not that he's eager for an answer. This is obviously difficult for him, and Locus nods, stroking his back with a firm hand. ]

I've got you.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject