A brig... A prison. His internal search brings that back. How strange to think of locking someone up instead of simply--
"You don't deactivate them?"
(He doesn't know that it's different for them. An AI can be turned on again so long as the chip remains intact.)
"I... Would not like imprisonment. Thank you. Captain has given very strict orders on when weapon use is acceptable. I do not believe my coding will force me into it now."
'Never act like this again.'
"I..."
'Sit in the room and LEARN-'
'I don't want to see you.'
Everyone wanted Gold Foot back but...
"Commander? If... If I remember Gold Foot, if I'm him... What happens to me?"
The click of pain. In a way Rung can't quite pin point. Where does MG go? Oh Rung doesn't know how to answer that. He simply, leans over. Trying not to let this get to him. "I do not know. You could be a part of him forever, that would be." Rung feels selfish to say it. "That would be ideal."
He smiles holding his glasses now in a hand. The glisten of his optics as he wipes them quickly to put them back on.
"If it means anything, I like you MG. If it means anything at all." He feels his voice actually crack. Oh. Oh, that's not... He's not allowed to have favorites he's not allowed to love them like this. Not Skids, not MG, not any of them.
"I want you to be your best self. That's all I ever want for any of you children." What a painful way to say it. What a strange way to say it.
"You are a good soldier, a good mech. You will not be imprisoned and you will not be deactivated." He feels like he's over stepping. He rubs under his glasses again. "Oh, how embarassing. I've sprung a leak it seems." He lies through his tears.
"Would you like another canister of oil?" His voice quivers.
For the first time in his recent functioning, the functioning that he can
remember, MG does not want to forget or lose himself. He had asked to
retain some memories upon a reformat because they... Were dear to him. He
did not want to lose them.
He didn't want to lose himself.
He wants to know who Gold Foot is but he wants to exist too.
"I don't want to disappear."
Drills and saws. Bright lights in his optics. Aniki he's scared. Aniki
please Aniki Aniki ani--
"Captain cries some times," he says softly, offering that information
delicately. "He says it's okay to do."
"MG-02-G011. Faulty. Rebellious. Reprogram it. You said this used to be
one of the Gold Bros? Ha. Shame you got this one and not the eldest. That
one had potential."
Rung fidgets turning back to Mg, Gold Foot and kneels down in front of him. Taking one of his hands and holds it. "No do not be sorry. This is. Perhaps becoming a bit personal, it's alright. You're not at fault and I will continue to help care."
"You neednt apologize to me for not finishing it. And thank you, your care is welcomed." He lets go and try stays there at the floor.
"MG," he starts. "MG they say memory is a powerful thing. So if Gold Foot ever does return. I will keep your memory with me. I... Will tell Gold Foot how wonderful you are. I won't let you die."
"You are just as important. You are not the lesser side. You exist and I'll make sure it's remembered." Then he pats the soldier's knee.
"But, that is an if he comes back. And we can worry about that later. For now, you exist, you are the one living and get to experiance learning and life."
For now he exists. He exists. He exists and Rung is happy he is here.
MG is abruptly startled by the fact he's crying. He can't recall crying
before, but his frame knows the motions. The way his shoulders hitch and
his vents catch and his optics short out in a brief wave of static.
He tries to say thank you, because Aniki taught him to, but the words are
stuck in his throat. Instead, instead, he puts his hands to his face to
hide it. It is not a soldier sitting in the chair now, but a small, lost
little mech that doesn't know any better.
He is less than two months old after his most recent reformat.
He is scared.
He was following orders.
His target wasn't a threat.
How scared was his target?
How scared had Windy been?
Why would they make his friend his target? Windy was his friend why had
he been a target?
Why was Megaman a target for Quick?
'Owner wanted him.'
"I-- I'm sorry," he gasps, scrubbing at his face. The oil can is abandoned
now at his side. "I-- I don't--"
There is a shrieking void inside of his coding that wants to swallow him
alive.
"Don't be sorry." Rung states as he takes his arms and gives this child a hug. A warm embrace where the heat of his miniature Sun burns protection, that Agape.
The pure adoration and care he can give. He holds the back of his head to his shoulder, and while its not the Spark Sync he can give. It still rhythms to reach MG. The child who will feel the hum of a universe, for him tonight. And Him alone.
Rung hums. The sounds not normally found in a vox coder. The only descriptor one can attest, the Song of some kind of celestial object. A song of the Spark itself.
It rhythms so low, with the pulse of his Spark. It may not even need to Sync to let MG know how loved he is right now.
He does not understand this level of affection, of care. It is alien to
him. He knows a brothers love, a friends love, a companion and compatriot,
but this... This makes him small in a good way. A healing way.
And the little soldier wails as he clings to Rung.
He leans into the larger mech, curling himself into him and grabbing at his
shoulders. Not unlike Arm had done when MG had first stepped out of the
shadows that day. Clinging, desperate for something to hold onto so he
doesn't float away.
He knows, distantly, that he has to make things better. And he is scared.
He is so, so scared. Of trying. Of failing. Of disappearing even if someone
will remember him. He's afraid of the static in his mind where memory files
used to be. He's afraid of the coding that runs rampant through his system
that turns him feral and violent at the flick of a switch.
But those things are distant now. Worries for another time. Because the
Spark song that he cannot match but can hear is soothing. It lulls him. The
sobs turn to shuddering hiccups, and then quiet, hitched vents. His hold
doesn't loosen, even as the rest of the little soldier starts to relax.
And then, almost peacefully, he slides into a recharge. Soothed by the song
of a forgotten god.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 12:40 am (UTC)A brig... A prison. His internal search brings that back. How strange to think of locking someone up instead of simply--
"You don't deactivate them?"
(He doesn't know that it's different for them. An AI can be turned on again so long as the chip remains intact.)
"I... Would not like imprisonment. Thank you. Captain has given very strict orders on when weapon use is acceptable. I do not believe my coding will force me into it now."
'Never act like this again.'
"I..."
'Sit in the room and LEARN-'
'I don't want to see you.'
Everyone wanted Gold Foot back but...
"Commander? If... If I remember Gold Foot, if I'm him... What happens to me?"
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 12:54 am (UTC)He smiles holding his glasses now in a hand. The glisten of his optics as he wipes them quickly to put them back on.
"If it means anything, I like you MG. If it means anything at all." He feels his voice actually crack. Oh. Oh, that's not... He's not allowed to have favorites he's not allowed to love them like this. Not Skids, not MG, not any of them.
"I want you to be your best self. That's all I ever want for any of you children." What a painful way to say it. What a strange way to say it.
"You are a good soldier, a good mech. You will not be imprisoned and you will not be deactivated." He feels like he's over stepping. He rubs under his glasses again. "Oh, how embarassing. I've sprung a leak it seems." He lies through his tears.
"Would you like another canister of oil?" His voice quivers.
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 01:38 am (UTC)For the first time in his recent functioning, the functioning that he can remember, MG does not want to forget or lose himself. He had asked to retain some memories upon a reformat because they... Were dear to him. He did not want to lose them.
He didn't want to lose himself.
He wants to know who Gold Foot is but he wants to exist too.
"I don't want to disappear."
Drills and saws. Bright lights in his optics. Aniki he's scared. Aniki please Aniki Aniki ani--"Captain cries some times," he says softly, offering that information delicately. "He says it's okay to do."
"MG-02-G011. Faulty. Rebellious. Reprogram it. You said this used to be one of the Gold Bros? Ha. Shame you got this one and not the eldest. That one had potential."Aniki please he's so scared.
"I... Haven't finished this one. I'm sorry."
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 02:00 am (UTC)"You neednt apologize to me for not finishing it. And thank you, your care is welcomed." He lets go and try stays there at the floor.
"MG," he starts. "MG they say memory is a powerful thing. So if Gold Foot ever does return. I will keep your memory with me. I... Will tell Gold Foot how wonderful you are. I won't let you die."
"You are just as important. You are not the lesser side. You exist and I'll make sure it's remembered." Then he pats the soldier's knee.
"But, that is an if he comes back. And we can worry about that later. For now, you exist, you are the one living and get to experiance learning and life."
"And I'm glad to see you grow."
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 02:22 am (UTC)For now he exists. He exists. He exists and Rung is happy he is here.
MG is abruptly startled by the fact he's crying. He can't recall crying before, but his frame knows the motions. The way his shoulders hitch and his vents catch and his optics short out in a brief wave of static.
He tries to say thank you, because Aniki taught him to, but the words are stuck in his throat. Instead, instead, he puts his hands to his face to hide it. It is not a soldier sitting in the chair now, but a small, lost little mech that doesn't know any better.
He is less than two months old after his most recent reformat.
He is scared.
He was following orders.
His target wasn't a threat.
How scared was his target?
How scared had Windy been?
Why would they make his friend his target? Windy was his friend why had he been a target?
Why was Megaman a target for Quick?
'Owner wanted him.'
"I-- I'm sorry," he gasps, scrubbing at his face. The oil can is abandoned now at his side. "I-- I don't--"
There is a shrieking void inside of his coding that wants to swallow him alive.
Rung is glad that MG is here.
He bends over his knees and he sobs.
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 02:31 am (UTC)The pure adoration and care he can give. He holds the back of his head to his shoulder, and while its not the Spark Sync he can give. It still rhythms to reach MG. The child who will feel the hum of a universe, for him tonight. And Him alone.
Rung hums. The sounds not normally found in a vox coder. The only descriptor one can attest, the Song of some kind of celestial object. A song of the Spark itself.
It rhythms so low, with the pulse of his Spark. It may not even need to Sync to let MG know how loved he is right now.
no subject
Date: 2023-12-07 05:21 am (UTC)He does not understand this level of affection, of care. It is alien to him. He knows a brothers love, a friends love, a companion and compatriot, but this... This makes him small in a good way. A healing way.
And the little soldier wails as he clings to Rung.
He leans into the larger mech, curling himself into him and grabbing at his shoulders. Not unlike Arm had done when MG had first stepped out of the shadows that day. Clinging, desperate for something to hold onto so he doesn't float away.
He knows, distantly, that he has to make things better. And he is scared. He is so, so scared. Of trying. Of failing. Of disappearing even if someone will remember him. He's afraid of the static in his mind where memory files used to be. He's afraid of the coding that runs rampant through his system that turns him feral and violent at the flick of a switch.
But those things are distant now. Worries for another time. Because the Spark song that he cannot match but can hear is soothing. It lulls him. The sobs turn to shuddering hiccups, and then quiet, hitched vents. His hold doesn't loosen, even as the rest of the little soldier starts to relax.
And then, almost peacefully, he slides into a recharge. Soothed by the song of a forgotten god.