SST Laboratories Siege Automaton E54 ("Bastion") (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
configuration_birdwatcher) wrote2018-01-19 07:34 pm
configuration_birdwatcher) wrote2018-01-19 07:34 pm
Entry tags:
May 19th, 2077
Bastion hates going offline. Low battery, maintenance mode, automatic suspension of higher functions for emergency self-repair, any of it; the vulnerability terrifies them no matter how safe the location, and most of their experiences with interruptions in their consciousness have come before or after something awful. (Waking up in the forest and seeing Ganymede was only half an exception; it was the best thing that had ever happened to them, but it had only been made possible because they had been dropped into a raging battle, immediately incapacitated, and left for dead.) They only agreed to let Torbjörn give them a tune-up on the condition that they would stay awake for it. Mostly immobilized and various degrees of disassembled, to avoid tearing anything loose, but awake. They had already agreed that he wasn't going to touch their processor or memory; it was hard to determine which of them was more dead-set against the idea of returning Bastion to factory settings, and Torbjörn was of the opinion that any kind of interference with their cognition could have that effect. (He had expressed it through a colorful metaphor rather than being so straightforward, but the meaning came across nonetheless.)
Being wired to a terminal to make sure all their motor control systems reboot correctly also gives them a rare opportunity to speak directly with him. All their joints are cleaned up and coming back online, moving with a kind of smoothness they haven't felt since they were first built, and all the dirt is polished off; Torbjörn doesn't look like he's finished, though. He's puttering around the workshop collecting an armload of spray paint, and seems to have no intention of reattaching their external plating just yet.
[ What are you doing? ] Bastion inputs to the terminal.
Torbjörn looks over at the sound of the new-message noise. "You need a new coat of paint."
[ Why? ]
"Because walkin' around in Omnic Crisis orange makes you look like you just stepped right off the battlefield ready to start a bloodbath."
[ I look like that anyway. Painting me a different color isn't going to disguise the fact that I'm a wartime E54 Bastion unit. Nobody's going to look at me and think, "That can't be a killing machine, it's blue!" ]
They look directly at him. He scowls back, turning away from the screen to meet their optic with his one functioning eye. "The point is, it's somethin' that says you've got someone keepin' an eye on you. Someone who wants to make sure people know you're different from the other tin cans and won't shoot them as soon as look at 'em."
[ Will it stop them from screaming and running away when they see me? ] They continue staring at him as they wait for him to read their message.
"I don't know. Should make 'em think twice before calling in the army, at least."
Bastion makes a descending, thoughtful whirr as they consider this. Then they respond: [ I'll take it if you let me transfer the remaining flowers to a vessel where I can take care of them. ]
Torbjörn pinches the bridge of his nose with his organic hand. "The bot wants to start a garden. That's what you care about? Not the color? Fine, I'll get you a flowerpot."
Being wired to a terminal to make sure all their motor control systems reboot correctly also gives them a rare opportunity to speak directly with him. All their joints are cleaned up and coming back online, moving with a kind of smoothness they haven't felt since they were first built, and all the dirt is polished off; Torbjörn doesn't look like he's finished, though. He's puttering around the workshop collecting an armload of spray paint, and seems to have no intention of reattaching their external plating just yet.
[ What are you doing? ] Bastion inputs to the terminal.
Torbjörn looks over at the sound of the new-message noise. "You need a new coat of paint."
[ Why? ]
"Because walkin' around in Omnic Crisis orange makes you look like you just stepped right off the battlefield ready to start a bloodbath."
[ I look like that anyway. Painting me a different color isn't going to disguise the fact that I'm a wartime E54 Bastion unit. Nobody's going to look at me and think, "That can't be a killing machine, it's blue!" ]
They look directly at him. He scowls back, turning away from the screen to meet their optic with his one functioning eye. "The point is, it's somethin' that says you've got someone keepin' an eye on you. Someone who wants to make sure people know you're different from the other tin cans and won't shoot them as soon as look at 'em."
[ Will it stop them from screaming and running away when they see me? ] They continue staring at him as they wait for him to read their message.
"I don't know. Should make 'em think twice before calling in the army, at least."
Bastion makes a descending, thoughtful whirr as they consider this. Then they respond: [ I'll take it if you let me transfer the remaining flowers to a vessel where I can take care of them. ]
Torbjörn pinches the bridge of his nose with his organic hand. "The bot wants to start a garden. That's what you care about? Not the color? Fine, I'll get you a flowerpot."