He wondered briefly how uncomfortable their current position had to to be for Alan, humans placed a terribly high value on their comfort after all but the man hadn’t complained once, even as they’d settled down on the cold floor of the server room. Cables sprouting from the ports that ran down the length of Anaia’s back they spider-webbed out, connecting him to the server stacks around them with one hanging over his shoulder to connect to the ipad in Alan’s hands. The androids arms where wrapped around Alan’s shoulders, the man leaning back against him, apparently perfectly content as they worked together to rewrite lines of code and strengthen the C.E.R.B.E.R.U.S. security system and firewalls.
“That one.” Anaia gestured to a line of code Alan was about to scroll right past. “That does not belong there.” The AI watched as Alan’s brow furrowed into a frown, even though he was only able to see the side of his face the way they where sat he could still read the man’s expressions easily enough. “Hm? You’re right, now where did that come from? Any ideas? Can you trace who ever put it there?” Even as he spoke Alan was doing the same thing, attempting to trace where the stray code had come from. The android could tell from the way the mans shoulders tensed and he tapped increasingly rapidly at the device in his hands that the idea of someone slipping a stray bit of code into his own bothered Alan greatly. “I will try. Please stand by.” His unnaturally bright blue eyes slipping closed, chin resting on Alan’s shoulder Anaia set about attempting to track the code’s origin. There was something about it that felt so very familiar but he couldn’t quite place it, even as he delved deeper into the network. No matter how hard he tried the AI couldn’t locate the source, or any kind of backdoor they had used to get in, the network was secure… then it occurred to him, he knew the code because he’d spent a great deal of time prodding around in a mind full of it. “Kaleb.” “Kaleb?” Shifting against Anaia to turn to face him Alan gave him that questioning look of his, looking over the top of his glasses, a brow quirked. “You mean the little bastard that tried to hack into the Hale Enterprise network?” “It seems he has found some way to slip undetected into our network. This disturbs me. He should not be able to do that.” Falling silent again Anaia delved once more into the network. In some ways the android felt far more free sifting through the code and various files, slipping past firewalls and hacking into places he shouldn’t be than he ever felt confined to his own physical shell. He had no idea how he would cope if he was ever cut off from the network… but it’s how he always imagined humans felt; trapped, confined to their stinking, sweating bodies with only their own voice to keep them company in their own head and the demands of a biological system to service at all times, be it by eating or defecating, both where just as unappealing as the other to the AI. They’d never know how it felt to reach out through the network and connect to a system ten thousand miles away or to immerse oneself in all that data and simply let it wash over you. In that moment the android felt sorry for the man sat in his lap above all others, Alan was gifted with the code, he saw it just as clearly as Anaia did, he manipulated it like he was tugging at bits of string, artfully rearranging them until he’d woven a dense and complex tapestry but he would never know what it was like to be in the code. Jerking himself out of his thoughts the AI pushed them aside, focusing instead on what he was doing, trying again to find the backdoor or however Kaleb had slipped into the C.E.R.B.E.R.U.S. network. Finally finding an errant string of code the android would have stopped dead in his tracks, holding his breath if he was human or indeed drew breath at all. Him. It was Anaia himself. Kaleb had used the connection the two of them used to goad and taunt one another to gain access to the network. Was this what shame felt like? Embarrassment perhaps? Anaia wasn’t sure but he didn’t like it. Nor did he like the fact that Kaleb, a mere human at the end of the day had managed to use the AI’s own systems to bypass the security he and Alan had spent so much time and effort building up.
I’m probably not going to finish this since I’ve got a bunch of uni work to finish off this week and next and with everything that’s happened in the rp it’s kind of not really relevant anymore… needless to say though, this is set before Tony killed Alan and before Kaleb messed around with Anaia’s memories.
Been working on a bunch of sketches. I finally gave up on trying to draw on a tablet because hell, that just doesn’t work for me. So this is out of my sketchbook, coloured first seriously in Sai then pen tool blocked when I got lazy (pretty much immediately after the skin)
I pretty much love Abe, he’s a total sweetie, and dumb as a bag of hammers, but fuck it. He means well, and him and Locke are super bros.
This is mostly for my own reference for some writings I want to do but please let me know if I’ve missed anyone:
Anthony Hale - ED*
Sherman Queensman - Agent & Secretary to AH
Locke Lowe - Agent & Senior medical staff**
Abraxas - Agent & Bio research
Alterf “Alan” Arcturus - Agent & the IT guy
Anaia - Agent, the other IT guy, research & Pet killbot***
Benjamin Gillespie - Agent & favorite labrat
David “D” Farley - Agent
Roderic “Roy” Santos Duval - Agent
Sulfir - Recruit (Or has he been promoted again now? idk)
* Papa Hale. **Turboslut (as written on the door of a toilet stall) ***enjoys killing small children on Hale’s orders and I still find it hilarious no one’s picked up on what kind of a bastard Hale really is when he openly orders the murder of a kid on the twitters. Just sayin’
I’m unsure what’s going on with Void & Kid and Gloriana was kicked out so er… yeah? that’s it I think?
((Just a little brain fart after what happened to D last night x_x ))
His fingers trembled as he looked down at his phone, the device resting against the clean, crisp linen of the sheets. He tried to ignore the IV needle that was stuck in the back of his hand, he never had been a fan of needles but right now it was the least of David Farley’s worries. Thumb hovering over the keypad his pale brow creased. How exactly did you tell your girlfriend that one of your exes had shoved you under a fire escape only for the ladder to skewer both your legs at the knee? That the doctors, in the absence of their one healer had amputated both at the knee to stop you bleeding to death and save as much of the limbs as possible? As he sat there, propped up by cushions behind him, trying to ignore the dull beep of the heart monitor, the only thing he could think was that he was going to miss Glinda’s birthday… he was supposed to be taking her out for a meal but that wasn’t going to happen now was it? There where a lot of things that would never happen now…
With a sigh he set his phone aside, staring instead at the sheets in front of him and the way the shape of his legs under them finished far earlier than it should have. It was weird, it didn’t hurt… not even a little, all he was feeling was a little twinge of nausea from what ever medication the doctors where giving him through the IV. He supposed the lack of pain was because of Locke. While Locke couldn’t exactly grow his legs back he’d healed up what was left… Where had Locke gone anyway? The last thing D remembered was him sitting on the bed beside him and falling asleep with the familiar weight next to him but when he’d woken up Locke was gone. He probably had to work David reasoned, it wasn’t like Locke could spend the whole day just sat with him as much as he would have really liked him too right then. There was something so comforting about having Locke close by, not that D could really admit it to him, not after he’d fucked everything up before by dropping the L-bomb but it was true. Turning over onto his side, curling up as best he could the teenager buried his face in the pillows. He wasn’t going to cry… or at least that’s what he kept telling himself while he laid like that, eyes squeezed closed against the cool fabric of the pillow.
Anaia learned more about humans in the space of the last twenty minutes than he had in some months. It was entirely engrossing watching Alan fall apart.
At first Alan had refused to believe it, it had to be wrong file he said but Anaia was certain they had the right file. It made very little sense to protect a falsified file with the level of encryption and security the two of them had to work around to retrieve it and nothing suggested it might have been a mistake or forgery. There was no logical reason to doubt the files validity. Alan had died. Anaia could understand why it disturbed him so much. Having had a brush with ceasing to exist recently himself he understood why that was so disquieting. The AI was almost proud of that for a moment, he understood how Alan was feeling, that was progress. He also understood the anger that overtook Alan once the man had stopped denying the fact he was a clone of the Alterf Arcturus who had died. Anger was something Anaia understood very keenly, it was perhaps the only emotion he really did understand to that degree. It was the sense of betrayal Alan was feeling that Anaia couldn’t grasp. Trust was something he still struggled to understand, how one earns it, how one repairs it especially and now he was seeing it shattered. Anthony Hale had lied to Alan. He had told him that he had only been injured and lost consciousness which was why Alan didn’t remember being cloned. Anaia wondered what had prompted such actions. He couldn’t even guess at Hale’s motives or anticipate his actions most days, the man was secretive at best despite his outwardly open actions that seemed to fool his fellow humans almost effortlessly so Anaia could only assume there was either some sentimental reason he couldn’t grasp or Hale needed Alan for something so couldn’t allow him to die. Which ever it was Anaia wanted to find out.
When Alan looked at him, with something in his eyes that Anaia had come to learn was pain or a desire to be comforted the android was unsure what to do. He didn’t know the expected protocol for moments such as this. “Shut up.” Anaia didn’t have time to protest that he hadn’t said anything when Alan threw himself down on the couch with him with an irritated grumble, grabbing Anaia’s arms and wrapping them around himself. “Just shut up Tron.”
I dunno, just a little brain fart based on last night’s twitter funs when Alan discovered the truth Tony’s apparently been keeping for him for so long ;3
I was going to write a story to explain everything that’s been going on with Anaia lately since a few people have asked but I can’t brain today. With that in mind I figured I’d just do it in list form:
Anaia has indeed left CERBERUS.
There are a few reasons for his leaving Cerb. I’ve been working on his background a lot lately and having him tinkering around with genetic research didn’t quite feel right anymore, he needs to get back to his roots a little. I also wanted him to become more of a villain again, I’ve enjoyed having him at Cerb but even in an organization with such lax morals he couldn’t really stretch his legs in the area of full on villainhood. And damn… Tea Town needs some active villains, CMS is so dead lately.
The killbot has pretty much been swiping a few pennies from hundreds of thousands of bank accounts on a daily basis since he got to tea town because people wont notice such a tiny amount but over time they of course add up to a significant fortune. Combined with the money he took from Hale Enterprise after some creative readjustment of the accounts he used that money to buy himself a shiny new building to set up in.
As much as I did enjoy his interactions in Cerb it’s gonna be fun as hell having a him vs them thing going on. Trolling Tony from afar will still be fun :D
I’m not going to give away much regarding his plans at this stage but he has many ;3 And with that in mind I’m thinking of starting a team/loose organisation. He’s already got Claude on board so if any villains (or morally questionable heroes) want to join or have any ideas let me know and we can talk, I haven’t really got all that much set in stone for it yet, including a name and a definitive mission statement so I’m definitely open to ideas.
S: Go, Single Father! I Choose You!
T: Dammit you know Lockes are weak to Responsible Single Parenting
S: I know, I went looking for one of these all damn day, man.
T: dude were you trolling the seashore getting into random encounters until you caught one
S: pretty much. I gave him all my Rare Candies but he gave them all to his kid instead.
T: I bet you had to masterball his ass.
S: Locke masterballs about Single Fathers all the time.
[A few drabbles about Locke are hanging about my computer. Here’s one of them]
When Kenner Lowe was ten, he knew a lot about the world. He didn’t know a lot because he read a ton of books like some of the kids in Mrs Gracy’s grade four classroom. He also didn’t know a lot because he traveled the world or had long talks with smarter older siblings. No, Kenner Lowe’s education was an education built on neglect and fear.
The thing was, Kenner knew with absolute certainty something no kid should ever actually really know. And that was that his parents hated him truly, and completely.
They didn’t starve him. They didn’t beat him. But they hated him all the same. Kenner lived in a two storey house with his family, a family that did not consist of him. He hadn’t understood at first, what had made him so different. But he’d soon figured it out. Most kids couldn’t move as fast as Kenner did. Most kids weren’t as strong. Most kids couldn’t see in the dark. And even if they could, even if those kids could they didn’t have… they didn’t have mutations.
His mother was a beautiful woman with a kind heart and a kind word for everyone. Except of course her not-son. It had hurt at first, seeing that his own mother had a smile for everyone but him, but he’d gotten used to it. Smiles and kindnesses were for normal kids who didn’t freak their parents out by just being around. Normal kids like Kenner’s brother, Locke.
Kenner had wanted to hate Locke. He really had. Locke was born so lucky. He was a perfect kid with his father’s eyes and his mother’s blond hair and he was always happy. Always grinning. When he smiled, his nose wrinkled up and six freckles looked more like twelve. And Kenner’s parents loved him to death. They played with him. He got smiles and hugs and anything he wanted. He didn’t get told to stop that or go away. They were never too busy for Locke. When Locke went to school, Kenner knew that Locke would get help with his homework. He would get presents for good marks and maybe stern discussions for bad marks. Kenner’s parents did not ask about his school at all.
He should have been angry. He should have hated this kid, this little kid who had the life that Kenner himself was supposed to have, but Kenner couldn’t. He couldn’t hate Locke at all because the problem was that he loved that stupid little kid just as much as everyone else. Locke didn’t look at him like he was weird or wrong. He never told him to put his hats on or cried because how he looked scared him. Locke wanted to play and laugh with everyone, including Kenner. He tried to climb his legs, and hold his hand. To Locke, Kenner was just his brother. Not something to be scared of.
It was really hard not to love Kenner’s three year old brother, because Locke was just that kind of kid. The kind who liked you no matter what anyone else thought.