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tampered2006-09-20 01:28 pm
maintenanced.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-09-20 01:28 pm
Log:Complete
When; Wish Day (I am entirely at fault for the supreme lateness. Please accept my apologies. ;-;)
Rating; PG for metaphysics (also my fault, hurr)
Characters; MOMO (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hilbertaffected), Ziggy (maintenanced)
Summary;Crawling in my skin~ I'm a real boy! 8D MOMO wished for Ziggy to be human. Various things of a philosophical nature ensue, and then they go have ice cream (not shown).
Log;
Humans can get used to anything.
This is what the ex-human Ziggurat 8 knew better than anyone. Given enough time and the right mindset – and he had both - it was easy to grow accustomed to living like a machine. His robotic body had gifted him with sharpened senses and quick reflexes, but it deprived him of some other, subtler human traits.
His sense of pain became dulled to a mild, detached, numbing sensation. Shortly after, he began to lose the ability to commiserate with the physical pain of others. Violence was starting to have a stifled effect on him. Bit by bit, his connection to the rest of reality had started to fade – or, rather, it was becoming more and more like living in a dream. He went through the motions of daily life, but they no longer had any significance. He chose his battles systematically. Whenever some of his old habits resurfaced, he tried to leave them behind – and as a result, his identity was becoming unstable. Everything was starting to seem like an echo of something predetermined, or an imitation of a story he'd read long, long ago.
The world was a quiet, miniature, somewhat awkward farce, spinning on behind a wall of thick, cold glass.
It was difficult to care. It was very difficult to desire to stick around to see how it all ended.
This was his life – a life in which his entire body felt like the vacuum left by an amputated limb -- a remnant of the past that itched from time to time, and sometimes throbbed with phantom pain.
This was the truth – he was no longer human. Or, at least, he believed in this fact so thoroughly, so blindly, even, that it had become his truth – his only truth, at times -- the only painkiller, though a temporary and ineffectual one.
But the City dealt in irony, first and foremost. And so the time for change had come around again.
Ziggy was dimly aware that he hadn't been “hit” by any curses, as the locals nonchalantly quipped.
He didn't care one way or the other – the curses seemed mostly whimsical and harmless, and he had nothing to lose. After all, his newfound life was extremely laid-back compared to what he'd been doing only a few months ago. Up until now, he'd moved ruthlessly from assignment to assignment, always opting for the most dangerous cases. Now he still had a job – to protect MOMO – but this only involved accompanying her around town for the most mundane tasks. Too much free time led to too much thinking – and the time he spent with MOMO was beginning to evoke feelings familiar yet foreign.
He wondered, in passing, if Lactis felt this lost without any orders.
Perhaps his luck, if such a thing existed, was due to change.
When he first opened his eyes, awakening from the routine maintenance of the night before, Ziggurat 8 was too shocked to breathe.
All was still – unbearably still and quiet. He would have mistaken his situation for a dream if he hadn't felt a suffocating sense of hyper-reality – as if he'd suddenly been dragged back from a dead zone into a world of harsh clarity. Like a newborn thrust out of the womb.
His visual display and external sensors were gone. There was no more radar, no ambient readings, no monitors whatsoever. He saw the room... normally, in unfiltered full color. This was the first point he noticed. The second point was supremely more troubling.
He felt overheated, groggy, dizzy, and disoriented – his body felt much lighter, but at the same time much heavier. He felt denser, less efficient, cluttered. A shoddily crafted machine – like a clogged pipe. He was aware of nerves that had been killed decades ago... rushing blood that was flowing where, up until now, there had only been cold steel. He lay still and felt... his body. His flesh. The prickling of the cold metal maintenance ports against... his skin. Against the back of his neck, the palms of his hands...
He lay still.
Then, he wiggled his toes. He looked down at his feet, to make certain that they were actually there. With a sigh, he collapsed back into the maintenance seat and stared at the ceiling.
The first and most obvious explanation was that this was a curse. Nothing so surreal could happen normally, and so... the effects would be gone by tomorrow.
Ziggy couldn't tell whether he was relieved or disappointed – he hadn't even fully acknowledged his condition yet. But if this was only temporary, there was no point in getting emotional about it... even though he couldn't control the overwhelming feelings of wonder and nostalgia, which made his hands tremble slightly.
Just one day. One day wasn't much time at all, compared to the rest of his life. He could manage a day.
His renewed calm didn't last for very long, as he shifted out of the seat and stood, barefoot, steadying himself against the wall with one hand. He still felt dizzy – his center of gravity had shifted. Formerly his metal legs had counted for most of his weight, and his core system calculated for balance automatically... but now he found himself reeling.
Once he'd regained a semblance of stability, he looked down at his new – old? -- body. For a while he merely stood, staring with disbelief... the swirls of his fingerprints, the traces of memorable combat scars... everything was there, as it had been, before it had vanished, fragment by fragment.
But his astonishment was interrupted as he noticed that the ticking – which had become second nature to him, as he often spent time alone – began to fade. Someone was coming.
MOMO had yet to pick up any data to indicate that it was a curse day.
As such, she'd done nothing different, busying herself with a systems check, monitoring the E.S. Zebulun, and downloading any new data since she'd been recharging.
There was no news that it was a curse day. Then again, why would there be? It was still early, considering. So MOMO was content to do things as normal. Or at least, the normal that came from being in the City.
Heading to Ziggy's room was sixth on her self-imposed checklist, and she'd just finished number five, so with a small skip in her step – as much of a skip as can be considered for a Realian - she headed to
Ziggy's door, about to knock as always.
She paused however, sensors indicating a human presence in the room. Did Ziggy have a guest? He hadn't told her, and she hadn't noticed the arrival of anyone. She frowned, trying to think as to who it could possibly be, hand still held up to the door. The small Realian was unsure as to if she should interrupt. After all, Ziggy was an adult, and there were things he had to talk about that she wasn't allowed to hear. If this was one of those things, she didn't want to be in the way.
It didn't take much to deduce that MOMO was the one pausing just outside the door – after all, she came by to greet him every morning. He was usually up long beforehand, but the sudden metamorphosis meant that he'd actually fallen asleep in the maintenance seat. For a few seconds Ziggy felt a shock of something like panic. For once, he had utterly no idea how to handle the situation. He was unaccustomed to a human body, and, in addition, the state was evoking some tumultuous feelings.
But these worries soon subsided. It was MOMO – he didn't have any cause for concern. It might be a little awkward, but he knew that she'd take it well. It was probably for the best, he told himself, to be optimistic about the change, since he didn't want to upset her. But could he really spend the day acting normally, as if nothing had happened? Could the day go by like any other day – to be forgotten within a while, stashed away with the rest of his memories?
There was no point in such fruitless wondering – there was no answer. He reached for the doorknob – pausing slightly to stare with newfound wonder at his real, flesh-and-blood hand – and swung open the door.
MOMO was standing in the hallway, one hand raised as if to knock.
"Ah, Zigg-" If she thought her systems had been in error before, she was certainly sure they were now. The person in front of her was not, by any standards of the definition, a cyborg.
MOMO stared.
Then frowned.
There was only one explanation for why there was a human that looked very much like Ziggy in front of her. The City. The frown deepened as she checked the network again to see if anyone else was experiencing anything, but it was still too early. Not that she really needed proof that it was a curse day - a human Ziggy pretty much set the standards for that.
"Z-Ziggy..." It was illogical and while she understood that the City did do odd things it was still a rather large shock to see.
As expected, it'd been a shock for MOMO. Might as well make the best of it. Ziggy raised his hands slightly in a half-shrug, hoping that he could come across as somewhat casual.
“Good morning. I... it seems that one of the City's curses has affected me somewhat radically,” he said. “... but it shouldn't interfere with my duties as your guardian.” He found himself gesticulating slightly as he spoke, something he hadn't done for perhaps a century. Now, though, it only seemed natural. Was it possible that the change had revived some of his old mannerisms, as well? After all, humanity wasn't merely distinguished by an organic form.
He felt a bit self-conscious, as the offhand explanation he gave to MOMO wasn't very adequate... but he couldn't even hope to articulate his other thoughts.
The small Realian relaxed slightly as she let herself adjust to the
sight of a human Ziggy. She wondered briefly if it meant that other
people had been changed into cyborgs before focusing on the fact
that... Ziggy was human.
MOMO managed to smile, however. Ziggy was still Ziggy, in the end,
just as she'd always be MOMO.
"Do you like it? I'm sure it must be odd."
Ziggy almost smiled. MOMO never failed to allay his more troublesome thoughts.
“Odd. Yes, that's one way of putting it. It feels... very strange. But not unfamiliar.” He couldn't yet say whether he 'liked' it or not. From the most objective standpoint, he felt a bit more comfortable, though also sluggish and unresponsive compared to his usual cyborg self. Even taking a few steps felt eerie – he'd grown accustomed to hearing the mechanical whir of his legs, but now his feet touched the ground in silence.
“At any rate,” he continued, “it's nothing serious.” He spoke of humanity like a disease – well, it did feel a bit like one, the way it made his heart race against his will. “MOMO – did you have anything planned for today?”
"I'm glad it's not hindering you any!" She smiled again, stepping back a bit to give him space to move. It was different, for sure, being faced with the human Ziggy, but MOMO was determined to make sure that he didn't feel as if she'd like him any less for it.
She didn't, after all. It was just different.
Just something the City was throwing at them. "No, nothing in particular," the pink haired Realian replied, mind already working out what sort of concessions she'd have to allow Ziggy with his new - at
least to her - body.
“I see,” Ziggy replied. He didn't particularly feel like sitting around all day – again, there was too much time to think, and now he suddenly had far too much to think about. If he idled for too long, then the memories associated with this body might return to him, as well... and that was not something he desired. It was pointless to return to a dead past.
Still, looking after MOMO was his responsibility. He couldn't just go off alone. Besides, it was comforting to be in her presence.
“Then what would you suggest we do?”
She paused to run the possibilities over in her mind quickly, trying to work out what Ziggy would be comfortable doing. She wasn't sure she'd know if she had suddenly found herself with a human body so...
"We could, umm... Go to the garden? It might be... pleasing?" He did seem bothered by the body, but if they went outside, where the air was less stuffy than the room, then perhaps Ziggy would feel somewhat better. At least, that was what she hoped.
The garden sounded like a decent idea. Ziggy didn't feel like going out where there would be lots of people, and the garden was usually quiet and still. Silence and solitude tended to breed worrisome thoughts, but with MOMO there it probably wouldn't be an issue.
So, with a brief nod of the head, he followed MOMO out of the apartment and downstairs, into the sunlight. He tried to ignore the strange effect the sun had on his skin – a sort of gentle warmth that bothered him slightly, though he couldn't say why – and instead observed the other inhabitants of the City. He was expecting to see some similar effects of the curse, but the results were various, and the only consistency seemed to be a large number of cat-eared individuals. He sighed, dismissively. The curse must have been more complicated than he'd at first thought... after all, very few if any of the City-dwellers were cyborgs, so it was illogical to think that a curse with such a limited scope could exist. But what was it, then? Perhaps he'd ask MOMO if her observational skills had picked up on anything.
The two made their way to the gardens. Once inside, Ziggy allowed himself to relax. It was cooler there, and darker, in contrast to the somewhat oppressive atmosphere outside. By normal standards the weather would have been considered pleasant, but Ziggy was more used to something sterile and cold. He felt he could breathe easier now.
MOMO was cheerfully inspecting the flowers in bloom, in a small cobbled clearing near the center of the gardens. There was something about her unabashed curiosity that made Ziggy feel a little weak. As she continued to gaze happily around the gardens, Ziggy walked over to a stone bench next to a fragrant gardenia bush and sat down, heeding the new urge to rest his legs.
MOMO glanced over with a small smile as he sat, noting that he probably wasn't used to standing without support. She made a mental note not to suggest doing anything too demanding, least Ziggy find himself unable to keep up. The last thing she wanted to do was wear him out.
He'd have to be fed too, wouldn't he? She inwardly winced at the way it came out, as if he were something like a puppy, but it was true. Humans required more nutrients than cyborgs or Realians.
But he'd tell her when he was hungry, she was sure.
So MOMO contented herself with wandering through the flower beds, examining all the odd plants. Despite the fact that they'd chosen to keep the E.S. here she'd never really had the time or the patience to look around. All her time had been spent with the Zebulun, conducting repairs or stripping it for parts.
Thinking about the E.S., she glanced over in its direction, glad to see it untouched still. People tended to keep away from it, for whatever reason. So it was fine, and she turned her attention back to trying to classify the flowers to add to her databanks.
Ziggy enjoyed the garden quietly. The light that filtered through the glass skylights was gentle, and some of the plants were still touched with dew. Almost as if he couldn't help it, Ziggy felt a bit sentimental. He had tried to abandon the seemingly wasteful habit of lounging around with no function. But now, he didn't have much choice.
However, spending time alone with MOMO like this seemed to make his troubles evaporate. But the question of the curse still nagged at him, and he felt pressured to at least inquire whether MOMO had discovered anything.
“MOMO,” he called after her. She looked away from the flower that she had been carefully inspecting and turned to him.
“Do you have any idea why my body has changed like this? I assumed it was a curse, but there are very few cyborgs in this City, so it must be somewhat more complicated. Can you figure anything out from the network?”
MOMO smiled slightly as she accessed the network, diving around here and there to gain the information she needed to answer Ziggy's question. "Most of the water supply has turned into coffee, some people seem to have left the City, and some people have grown up. They seem to be... Oh!"
She'd been about to say 'random occurrences' but something made her stop and recheck the latest data she'd pulled. She blinked, severing the connection, and turned to Ziggy with a small frown in place.
"The curse. It would appear to be affecting individuals at random, as is usual. The only thing is, the individuals affected, umm... All wished for the occurrences." She shrugged slightly, unsure of how Ziggy would react to that information. After all... it's not like he wanted to be human.
From MOMO's data, it was easy to take the next step in logic.
Ziggy didn't know what to think. Initially he felt a bit disturbed – he always had a distaste for feeling out of control, helpless, as if someone else was pulling the strings on his life. It was a thoroughly uncomfortable feeling, and he'd taken steps to avoid it as much as possible. On the other hand...
He'd been aware, recently – partially due to Lactis's influence – that it was possible to have closure with certain aspects of his life, even if he'd previously considered them to be dead, buried, and forgotten. Perhaps this was such an opportunity? He felt unwilling to think too deeply about it, but... at the very least, he should make sure.
“MOMO.” Ziggy looked at her, a somewhat stern, serious look on his face. “Did you wish for this?”
"Ah.. well..." It wasn't like she hadn't persay.
In fact, she could pinpoint the exact point in her logs where she had wished it so.
MOMO wasn't one for wishing. It was a human thing, to want things to go just so, to want impossible, silly things. And MOMO was, as often bothered Joachim Mizrahi, not human. A Realian was not built to wish for things.
It was built to be responsible and attentive and observe the world and behave according to protocol.
Then again, MOMO wasn't quite normal, as a Realian.
"...I did."
“Hm... I see.”
The next question was somewhat more difficult.
“MOMO, why did you want me to become human... again?” The final word was more of an afterthought. He realized only after he'd spoken the question that she might not be able to answer. And not because she was a Realian – but because she was a little girl. After all, it wasn't as if even he understood the complexity human emotion – could he expect her to be able to respond?
But, he thought to himself, his brow furrowed, even if the question had no answer, he owed it to MOMO to try and understand. Perhaps she hadn't even made the wish based on any logical reasoning – it wasn't as if humans normally did such things. But – he had to remind himself – MOMO wasn't human...
... but even if he made a conscious effort, he couldn't see her as anything less than a human girl.
"I do not know." Standard, harsh, Realian response.
It didn't suit the moment, didn't suit her child-like voice, her small body.
"I think... Because father made me. He always told me... That I could be human one day. That being human was the greatest thing that could happen for me."
She frowned, delving deeper into her systems to check if she had malfunctioned. She felt like she had - felt as if the question had created a fault in her processes. There had been nothing illogical in the trace patterns she found, running smoothly and operating like normal. MOMO's gaze fell on the flower bed to her left as she continued, as if telling Ziggy what she thought would make the faulty feeling disappear.
"...Ziggy always looks so sad. But maybe... maybe if you were human, you'd smile more? I like it when you smile. I don't know why it was phrased as a wish. Perhaps the City is influencing me in some way."
MOMO's answer came as something of a surprise to Ziggy.
He looked sad? Was that true? As far as he knew he'd simply abolished all expressions, along with the emotions that engendered them. He'd stopped smiling early on – there hadn't been much to smile for, and he got out of the habit with relative ease. But was sadness really what was left? Wasn't his expression vacant? Perhaps MOMO saw something in him that he couldn't even catch – or perhaps it was something he'd been ignoring.
But why? And why would she be able to see it?
Was it because, he thought with some bitterness, because she was built to observe?
Or was it because of her innocence?
“Is that so? Hmm.” He pondered for a brief moment. He didn't want to tell MOMO his cynical thoughts – that being human was the worst thing that had happened to him, that he didn't feel like smiling when he remembered the battles he fought with this body. And, in addition – and he sighed as he looked at her – it wasn't that he didn't want to shatter her illusions, although that was also true. No, in fact, when he looked at her, his conviction in these pessimistic thoughts seemed to evaporate.
“... I'm sorry, MOMO. I...” He paused. “Being human... isn't necessarily cause for happiness. Humans experience great joy and great sorrow...” Somehow, the words wouldn't form. He could no longer craft a sentence that was cold, straightforward, uncomplicated...
“This body... my past life... I can't explain, but...” Images hit him like a wave of nausea, something he hadn't felt in eons. Tensing, he put a hand to his head and used the other to steady himself against the bench. Recovering quickly, he straightened and sighed again.
“MOMO... what did you think it would mean, to be human?” It was a weighty question, but he did not know the answer. Was he the same as MOMO – a synthetic being stranded outside the circle of humanity, no longer able to feel emotions with the same intensity? Was he still more human than she, despite his attempts to throw his identity away? Or, finally, was she, in all her childlike purity, in her trustfulness and honesty, more of a human than the machine he'd become?
She frowned again, brow furrowing in an attempt to strip her systems clean and find the answer. It didn't come as quickly as she'd hoped and there was a silence left, filling the space between them.
MOMO noticed the space before her answer came.
She bit her lower lip in concentration, determined to have it sound normal, not as a pre-programmed response.
"It would mean... Daddy's happiness." That was true, wasn't it? He had crooned to her, telling her to be good, to be kind, to do as she was intended, and that one day, when she'd done all those things, he'd
make her human. Let her grow. Be a real daughter. MOMO closed her eyes slowly, continue to run the thought past her systems. He may be dead, but wasn't it still important?
She'd realized she'd never be human, knew that it was far beyond any one's capabilities to initiate such a change. It hadn't bothered her, really. A Realian could last longer, function better, faster, interact directly with the Encephalon and U.M.N., all things humans were not capable of. As a Realian she was much better off, although it had taken some time to realize why her form had been so much different
from the others.
It wasn't like she'd minded. She hadn't been programmed to mind being made in the image of her father's dead daughter. The thought process had never occurred to her, only the loving way he'd look at her, the way he smiled when she tried hard to do all the things he'd ask of her. All she'd known was that being good would bring that smile.
It wasn't so easy with Ziggy. Had she thought that it would be easier to please him if he were human again? Or had it truly been a throw-away comment the City had chosen to come true, something she'd
never meant but had mentioned to herself in passing?
MOMO couldn't tell. But she knew one thing. "I had only hoped... That you could find something like that too."
Find happiness?
Ziggy hadn't given it much thought at all. He'd taken it for granted that such a thing was impossible. The source of his joy was gone, along with his freedom...
But wasn't he living a new life? He wasn't used to even thinking of it as a life – more as a role, a duty, to be fulfilled before he could be scrapped, before he could rest.
Could he even hope to make his way back, in this disjointed and broken state, to humanity? Perhaps, but the question was whether it would be worth the effort.
Before, he hadn't felt as if there was a point in living only to fulfill himself.
But what if his existence had become meaningful to other people?
He looked at MOMO.
Her eyes seemed worried; her expression was tense. He wondered, briefly, if she found emotion as stubbornly confusing as he did. His throat tightened.
In one gentle movement, and without pausing to think the action though logically, Ziggy hugged her close. He rested his hand on her shoulder, the same way he'd once done with Joaquin – her hair brushed against the back of his hand, and the thought never occurred to him that it was synthetic, none of it was real. To him, the source of her emotions didn't matter, were they from a human heart or successive lines of code. MOMO was kind and good, more so than hundreds of thousands of authentic humans – and as for himself, he couldn't stand fighting against his emotional impulses any longer. When was the last time someone had so honestly wanted him to be happy?
For her, he could accept the pain that came with this body. Even if he returned to his cyborg form, he was still connected to this flesh... and he knew, in that moment, that he wanted to protect her. Even if love and devotion sometimes only led to greater loss, and deeper pain – even if he'd failed, once before, to save what was most precious to him. He would protect MOMO with his life, and, for her, he'd try to be happy.
It seemed that he should say something, but there were no words.
He smiled, and closed his eyes, and didn't let go.
Rating; PG for metaphysics (also my fault, hurr)
Characters; MOMO (
hilbertaffected), Ziggy (maintenanced)Summary;
Log;
Humans can get used to anything.
This is what the ex-human Ziggurat 8 knew better than anyone. Given enough time and the right mindset – and he had both - it was easy to grow accustomed to living like a machine. His robotic body had gifted him with sharpened senses and quick reflexes, but it deprived him of some other, subtler human traits.
His sense of pain became dulled to a mild, detached, numbing sensation. Shortly after, he began to lose the ability to commiserate with the physical pain of others. Violence was starting to have a stifled effect on him. Bit by bit, his connection to the rest of reality had started to fade – or, rather, it was becoming more and more like living in a dream. He went through the motions of daily life, but they no longer had any significance. He chose his battles systematically. Whenever some of his old habits resurfaced, he tried to leave them behind – and as a result, his identity was becoming unstable. Everything was starting to seem like an echo of something predetermined, or an imitation of a story he'd read long, long ago.
The world was a quiet, miniature, somewhat awkward farce, spinning on behind a wall of thick, cold glass.
It was difficult to care. It was very difficult to desire to stick around to see how it all ended.
This was his life – a life in which his entire body felt like the vacuum left by an amputated limb -- a remnant of the past that itched from time to time, and sometimes throbbed with phantom pain.
This was the truth – he was no longer human. Or, at least, he believed in this fact so thoroughly, so blindly, even, that it had become his truth – his only truth, at times -- the only painkiller, though a temporary and ineffectual one.
But the City dealt in irony, first and foremost. And so the time for change had come around again.
Ziggy was dimly aware that he hadn't been “hit” by any curses, as the locals nonchalantly quipped.
He didn't care one way or the other – the curses seemed mostly whimsical and harmless, and he had nothing to lose. After all, his newfound life was extremely laid-back compared to what he'd been doing only a few months ago. Up until now, he'd moved ruthlessly from assignment to assignment, always opting for the most dangerous cases. Now he still had a job – to protect MOMO – but this only involved accompanying her around town for the most mundane tasks. Too much free time led to too much thinking – and the time he spent with MOMO was beginning to evoke feelings familiar yet foreign.
He wondered, in passing, if Lactis felt this lost without any orders.
Perhaps his luck, if such a thing existed, was due to change.
When he first opened his eyes, awakening from the routine maintenance of the night before, Ziggurat 8 was too shocked to breathe.
All was still – unbearably still and quiet. He would have mistaken his situation for a dream if he hadn't felt a suffocating sense of hyper-reality – as if he'd suddenly been dragged back from a dead zone into a world of harsh clarity. Like a newborn thrust out of the womb.
His visual display and external sensors were gone. There was no more radar, no ambient readings, no monitors whatsoever. He saw the room... normally, in unfiltered full color. This was the first point he noticed. The second point was supremely more troubling.
He felt overheated, groggy, dizzy, and disoriented – his body felt much lighter, but at the same time much heavier. He felt denser, less efficient, cluttered. A shoddily crafted machine – like a clogged pipe. He was aware of nerves that had been killed decades ago... rushing blood that was flowing where, up until now, there had only been cold steel. He lay still and felt... his body. His flesh. The prickling of the cold metal maintenance ports against... his skin. Against the back of his neck, the palms of his hands...
He lay still.
Then, he wiggled his toes. He looked down at his feet, to make certain that they were actually there. With a sigh, he collapsed back into the maintenance seat and stared at the ceiling.
The first and most obvious explanation was that this was a curse. Nothing so surreal could happen normally, and so... the effects would be gone by tomorrow.
Ziggy couldn't tell whether he was relieved or disappointed – he hadn't even fully acknowledged his condition yet. But if this was only temporary, there was no point in getting emotional about it... even though he couldn't control the overwhelming feelings of wonder and nostalgia, which made his hands tremble slightly.
Just one day. One day wasn't much time at all, compared to the rest of his life. He could manage a day.
His renewed calm didn't last for very long, as he shifted out of the seat and stood, barefoot, steadying himself against the wall with one hand. He still felt dizzy – his center of gravity had shifted. Formerly his metal legs had counted for most of his weight, and his core system calculated for balance automatically... but now he found himself reeling.
Once he'd regained a semblance of stability, he looked down at his new – old? -- body. For a while he merely stood, staring with disbelief... the swirls of his fingerprints, the traces of memorable combat scars... everything was there, as it had been, before it had vanished, fragment by fragment.
But his astonishment was interrupted as he noticed that the ticking – which had become second nature to him, as he often spent time alone – began to fade. Someone was coming.
MOMO had yet to pick up any data to indicate that it was a curse day.
As such, she'd done nothing different, busying herself with a systems check, monitoring the E.S. Zebulun, and downloading any new data since she'd been recharging.
There was no news that it was a curse day. Then again, why would there be? It was still early, considering. So MOMO was content to do things as normal. Or at least, the normal that came from being in the City.
Heading to Ziggy's room was sixth on her self-imposed checklist, and she'd just finished number five, so with a small skip in her step – as much of a skip as can be considered for a Realian - she headed to
Ziggy's door, about to knock as always.
She paused however, sensors indicating a human presence in the room. Did Ziggy have a guest? He hadn't told her, and she hadn't noticed the arrival of anyone. She frowned, trying to think as to who it could possibly be, hand still held up to the door. The small Realian was unsure as to if she should interrupt. After all, Ziggy was an adult, and there were things he had to talk about that she wasn't allowed to hear. If this was one of those things, she didn't want to be in the way.
It didn't take much to deduce that MOMO was the one pausing just outside the door – after all, she came by to greet him every morning. He was usually up long beforehand, but the sudden metamorphosis meant that he'd actually fallen asleep in the maintenance seat. For a few seconds Ziggy felt a shock of something like panic. For once, he had utterly no idea how to handle the situation. He was unaccustomed to a human body, and, in addition, the state was evoking some tumultuous feelings.
But these worries soon subsided. It was MOMO – he didn't have any cause for concern. It might be a little awkward, but he knew that she'd take it well. It was probably for the best, he told himself, to be optimistic about the change, since he didn't want to upset her. But could he really spend the day acting normally, as if nothing had happened? Could the day go by like any other day – to be forgotten within a while, stashed away with the rest of his memories?
There was no point in such fruitless wondering – there was no answer. He reached for the doorknob – pausing slightly to stare with newfound wonder at his real, flesh-and-blood hand – and swung open the door.
MOMO was standing in the hallway, one hand raised as if to knock.
"Ah, Zigg-" If she thought her systems had been in error before, she was certainly sure they were now. The person in front of her was not, by any standards of the definition, a cyborg.
MOMO stared.
Then frowned.
There was only one explanation for why there was a human that looked very much like Ziggy in front of her. The City. The frown deepened as she checked the network again to see if anyone else was experiencing anything, but it was still too early. Not that she really needed proof that it was a curse day - a human Ziggy pretty much set the standards for that.
"Z-Ziggy..." It was illogical and while she understood that the City did do odd things it was still a rather large shock to see.
As expected, it'd been a shock for MOMO. Might as well make the best of it. Ziggy raised his hands slightly in a half-shrug, hoping that he could come across as somewhat casual.
“Good morning. I... it seems that one of the City's curses has affected me somewhat radically,” he said. “... but it shouldn't interfere with my duties as your guardian.” He found himself gesticulating slightly as he spoke, something he hadn't done for perhaps a century. Now, though, it only seemed natural. Was it possible that the change had revived some of his old mannerisms, as well? After all, humanity wasn't merely distinguished by an organic form.
He felt a bit self-conscious, as the offhand explanation he gave to MOMO wasn't very adequate... but he couldn't even hope to articulate his other thoughts.
The small Realian relaxed slightly as she let herself adjust to the
sight of a human Ziggy. She wondered briefly if it meant that other
people had been changed into cyborgs before focusing on the fact
that... Ziggy was human.
MOMO managed to smile, however. Ziggy was still Ziggy, in the end,
just as she'd always be MOMO.
"Do you like it? I'm sure it must be odd."
Ziggy almost smiled. MOMO never failed to allay his more troublesome thoughts.
“Odd. Yes, that's one way of putting it. It feels... very strange. But not unfamiliar.” He couldn't yet say whether he 'liked' it or not. From the most objective standpoint, he felt a bit more comfortable, though also sluggish and unresponsive compared to his usual cyborg self. Even taking a few steps felt eerie – he'd grown accustomed to hearing the mechanical whir of his legs, but now his feet touched the ground in silence.
“At any rate,” he continued, “it's nothing serious.” He spoke of humanity like a disease – well, it did feel a bit like one, the way it made his heart race against his will. “MOMO – did you have anything planned for today?”
"I'm glad it's not hindering you any!" She smiled again, stepping back a bit to give him space to move. It was different, for sure, being faced with the human Ziggy, but MOMO was determined to make sure that he didn't feel as if she'd like him any less for it.
She didn't, after all. It was just different.
Just something the City was throwing at them. "No, nothing in particular," the pink haired Realian replied, mind already working out what sort of concessions she'd have to allow Ziggy with his new - at
least to her - body.
“I see,” Ziggy replied. He didn't particularly feel like sitting around all day – again, there was too much time to think, and now he suddenly had far too much to think about. If he idled for too long, then the memories associated with this body might return to him, as well... and that was not something he desired. It was pointless to return to a dead past.
Still, looking after MOMO was his responsibility. He couldn't just go off alone. Besides, it was comforting to be in her presence.
“Then what would you suggest we do?”
She paused to run the possibilities over in her mind quickly, trying to work out what Ziggy would be comfortable doing. She wasn't sure she'd know if she had suddenly found herself with a human body so...
"We could, umm... Go to the garden? It might be... pleasing?" He did seem bothered by the body, but if they went outside, where the air was less stuffy than the room, then perhaps Ziggy would feel somewhat better. At least, that was what she hoped.
The garden sounded like a decent idea. Ziggy didn't feel like going out where there would be lots of people, and the garden was usually quiet and still. Silence and solitude tended to breed worrisome thoughts, but with MOMO there it probably wouldn't be an issue.
So, with a brief nod of the head, he followed MOMO out of the apartment and downstairs, into the sunlight. He tried to ignore the strange effect the sun had on his skin – a sort of gentle warmth that bothered him slightly, though he couldn't say why – and instead observed the other inhabitants of the City. He was expecting to see some similar effects of the curse, but the results were various, and the only consistency seemed to be a large number of cat-eared individuals. He sighed, dismissively. The curse must have been more complicated than he'd at first thought... after all, very few if any of the City-dwellers were cyborgs, so it was illogical to think that a curse with such a limited scope could exist. But what was it, then? Perhaps he'd ask MOMO if her observational skills had picked up on anything.
The two made their way to the gardens. Once inside, Ziggy allowed himself to relax. It was cooler there, and darker, in contrast to the somewhat oppressive atmosphere outside. By normal standards the weather would have been considered pleasant, but Ziggy was more used to something sterile and cold. He felt he could breathe easier now.
MOMO was cheerfully inspecting the flowers in bloom, in a small cobbled clearing near the center of the gardens. There was something about her unabashed curiosity that made Ziggy feel a little weak. As she continued to gaze happily around the gardens, Ziggy walked over to a stone bench next to a fragrant gardenia bush and sat down, heeding the new urge to rest his legs.
MOMO glanced over with a small smile as he sat, noting that he probably wasn't used to standing without support. She made a mental note not to suggest doing anything too demanding, least Ziggy find himself unable to keep up. The last thing she wanted to do was wear him out.
He'd have to be fed too, wouldn't he? She inwardly winced at the way it came out, as if he were something like a puppy, but it was true. Humans required more nutrients than cyborgs or Realians.
But he'd tell her when he was hungry, she was sure.
So MOMO contented herself with wandering through the flower beds, examining all the odd plants. Despite the fact that they'd chosen to keep the E.S. here she'd never really had the time or the patience to look around. All her time had been spent with the Zebulun, conducting repairs or stripping it for parts.
Thinking about the E.S., she glanced over in its direction, glad to see it untouched still. People tended to keep away from it, for whatever reason. So it was fine, and she turned her attention back to trying to classify the flowers to add to her databanks.
Ziggy enjoyed the garden quietly. The light that filtered through the glass skylights was gentle, and some of the plants were still touched with dew. Almost as if he couldn't help it, Ziggy felt a bit sentimental. He had tried to abandon the seemingly wasteful habit of lounging around with no function. But now, he didn't have much choice.
However, spending time alone with MOMO like this seemed to make his troubles evaporate. But the question of the curse still nagged at him, and he felt pressured to at least inquire whether MOMO had discovered anything.
“MOMO,” he called after her. She looked away from the flower that she had been carefully inspecting and turned to him.
“Do you have any idea why my body has changed like this? I assumed it was a curse, but there are very few cyborgs in this City, so it must be somewhat more complicated. Can you figure anything out from the network?”
MOMO smiled slightly as she accessed the network, diving around here and there to gain the information she needed to answer Ziggy's question. "Most of the water supply has turned into coffee, some people seem to have left the City, and some people have grown up. They seem to be... Oh!"
She'd been about to say 'random occurrences' but something made her stop and recheck the latest data she'd pulled. She blinked, severing the connection, and turned to Ziggy with a small frown in place.
"The curse. It would appear to be affecting individuals at random, as is usual. The only thing is, the individuals affected, umm... All wished for the occurrences." She shrugged slightly, unsure of how Ziggy would react to that information. After all... it's not like he wanted to be human.
From MOMO's data, it was easy to take the next step in logic.
Ziggy didn't know what to think. Initially he felt a bit disturbed – he always had a distaste for feeling out of control, helpless, as if someone else was pulling the strings on his life. It was a thoroughly uncomfortable feeling, and he'd taken steps to avoid it as much as possible. On the other hand...
He'd been aware, recently – partially due to Lactis's influence – that it was possible to have closure with certain aspects of his life, even if he'd previously considered them to be dead, buried, and forgotten. Perhaps this was such an opportunity? He felt unwilling to think too deeply about it, but... at the very least, he should make sure.
“MOMO.” Ziggy looked at her, a somewhat stern, serious look on his face. “Did you wish for this?”
"Ah.. well..." It wasn't like she hadn't persay.
In fact, she could pinpoint the exact point in her logs where she had wished it so.
MOMO wasn't one for wishing. It was a human thing, to want things to go just so, to want impossible, silly things. And MOMO was, as often bothered Joachim Mizrahi, not human. A Realian was not built to wish for things.
It was built to be responsible and attentive and observe the world and behave according to protocol.
Then again, MOMO wasn't quite normal, as a Realian.
"...I did."
“Hm... I see.”
The next question was somewhat more difficult.
“MOMO, why did you want me to become human... again?” The final word was more of an afterthought. He realized only after he'd spoken the question that she might not be able to answer. And not because she was a Realian – but because she was a little girl. After all, it wasn't as if even he understood the complexity human emotion – could he expect her to be able to respond?
But, he thought to himself, his brow furrowed, even if the question had no answer, he owed it to MOMO to try and understand. Perhaps she hadn't even made the wish based on any logical reasoning – it wasn't as if humans normally did such things. But – he had to remind himself – MOMO wasn't human...
... but even if he made a conscious effort, he couldn't see her as anything less than a human girl.
"I do not know." Standard, harsh, Realian response.
It didn't suit the moment, didn't suit her child-like voice, her small body.
"I think... Because father made me. He always told me... That I could be human one day. That being human was the greatest thing that could happen for me."
She frowned, delving deeper into her systems to check if she had malfunctioned. She felt like she had - felt as if the question had created a fault in her processes. There had been nothing illogical in the trace patterns she found, running smoothly and operating like normal. MOMO's gaze fell on the flower bed to her left as she continued, as if telling Ziggy what she thought would make the faulty feeling disappear.
"...Ziggy always looks so sad. But maybe... maybe if you were human, you'd smile more? I like it when you smile. I don't know why it was phrased as a wish. Perhaps the City is influencing me in some way."
MOMO's answer came as something of a surprise to Ziggy.
He looked sad? Was that true? As far as he knew he'd simply abolished all expressions, along with the emotions that engendered them. He'd stopped smiling early on – there hadn't been much to smile for, and he got out of the habit with relative ease. But was sadness really what was left? Wasn't his expression vacant? Perhaps MOMO saw something in him that he couldn't even catch – or perhaps it was something he'd been ignoring.
But why? And why would she be able to see it?
Was it because, he thought with some bitterness, because she was built to observe?
Or was it because of her innocence?
“Is that so? Hmm.” He pondered for a brief moment. He didn't want to tell MOMO his cynical thoughts – that being human was the worst thing that had happened to him, that he didn't feel like smiling when he remembered the battles he fought with this body. And, in addition – and he sighed as he looked at her – it wasn't that he didn't want to shatter her illusions, although that was also true. No, in fact, when he looked at her, his conviction in these pessimistic thoughts seemed to evaporate.
“... I'm sorry, MOMO. I...” He paused. “Being human... isn't necessarily cause for happiness. Humans experience great joy and great sorrow...” Somehow, the words wouldn't form. He could no longer craft a sentence that was cold, straightforward, uncomplicated...
“This body... my past life... I can't explain, but...” Images hit him like a wave of nausea, something he hadn't felt in eons. Tensing, he put a hand to his head and used the other to steady himself against the bench. Recovering quickly, he straightened and sighed again.
“MOMO... what did you think it would mean, to be human?” It was a weighty question, but he did not know the answer. Was he the same as MOMO – a synthetic being stranded outside the circle of humanity, no longer able to feel emotions with the same intensity? Was he still more human than she, despite his attempts to throw his identity away? Or, finally, was she, in all her childlike purity, in her trustfulness and honesty, more of a human than the machine he'd become?
She frowned again, brow furrowing in an attempt to strip her systems clean and find the answer. It didn't come as quickly as she'd hoped and there was a silence left, filling the space between them.
MOMO noticed the space before her answer came.
She bit her lower lip in concentration, determined to have it sound normal, not as a pre-programmed response.
"It would mean... Daddy's happiness." That was true, wasn't it? He had crooned to her, telling her to be good, to be kind, to do as she was intended, and that one day, when she'd done all those things, he'd
make her human. Let her grow. Be a real daughter. MOMO closed her eyes slowly, continue to run the thought past her systems. He may be dead, but wasn't it still important?
She'd realized she'd never be human, knew that it was far beyond any one's capabilities to initiate such a change. It hadn't bothered her, really. A Realian could last longer, function better, faster, interact directly with the Encephalon and U.M.N., all things humans were not capable of. As a Realian she was much better off, although it had taken some time to realize why her form had been so much different
from the others.
It wasn't like she'd minded. She hadn't been programmed to mind being made in the image of her father's dead daughter. The thought process had never occurred to her, only the loving way he'd look at her, the way he smiled when she tried hard to do all the things he'd ask of her. All she'd known was that being good would bring that smile.
It wasn't so easy with Ziggy. Had she thought that it would be easier to please him if he were human again? Or had it truly been a throw-away comment the City had chosen to come true, something she'd
never meant but had mentioned to herself in passing?
MOMO couldn't tell. But she knew one thing. "I had only hoped... That you could find something like that too."
Find happiness?
Ziggy hadn't given it much thought at all. He'd taken it for granted that such a thing was impossible. The source of his joy was gone, along with his freedom...
But wasn't he living a new life? He wasn't used to even thinking of it as a life – more as a role, a duty, to be fulfilled before he could be scrapped, before he could rest.
Could he even hope to make his way back, in this disjointed and broken state, to humanity? Perhaps, but the question was whether it would be worth the effort.
Before, he hadn't felt as if there was a point in living only to fulfill himself.
But what if his existence had become meaningful to other people?
He looked at MOMO.
Her eyes seemed worried; her expression was tense. He wondered, briefly, if she found emotion as stubbornly confusing as he did. His throat tightened.
In one gentle movement, and without pausing to think the action though logically, Ziggy hugged her close. He rested his hand on her shoulder, the same way he'd once done with Joaquin – her hair brushed against the back of his hand, and the thought never occurred to him that it was synthetic, none of it was real. To him, the source of her emotions didn't matter, were they from a human heart or successive lines of code. MOMO was kind and good, more so than hundreds of thousands of authentic humans – and as for himself, he couldn't stand fighting against his emotional impulses any longer. When was the last time someone had so honestly wanted him to be happy?
For her, he could accept the pain that came with this body. Even if he returned to his cyborg form, he was still connected to this flesh... and he knew, in that moment, that he wanted to protect her. Even if love and devotion sometimes only led to greater loss, and deeper pain – even if he'd failed, once before, to save what was most precious to him. He would protect MOMO with his life, and, for her, he'd try to be happy.
It seemed that he should say something, but there were no words.
He smiled, and closed his eyes, and didn't let go.
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Hey Jr. JOIN THE ICE CREAM PARTY ~
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But if we exclude Jr. then he might cry himself to sleep ~ and we can't have that. ;-;
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I... I am unsure.
@_@