alphalogs | Something is out of Tune

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Something is out of Tune

Who: Vision and Open
When: Day Cycle 107
What: Vision wakes up no longer a synthezoid but human. Things will not equate.
Warnings: Vision does not cope... well.

His introduction to flesh and bone is the same as his birth. His mind snaps to full wakefulness but the physical mind forced to contain his artificial intelligence reaches its limits far too quickly and immediately cuts off higher-level functions in an effort of self-preservation. The backlash is immediate and coupled with the foreign component streaming through his system disrupting lines of communication, he concludes he's under attack.

His eyes snap open and immediately identifies the figure in violet as the source of the invasion and before reason and logic can catch up with instinct - he attacks. In a singular effort, he assaults the scientist in attempt to eliminate the threat but the attack proves futile for the moment he forces his body to move the foreign component overwhelms him and the strain proves too great forcing his mind to shut down.

Vision passes out.

With his body removed from the equation, all the sensory input is effectively shut out lending him further computing power to fully realize his current state and its limitations. He remains like this for a long time, but time, for a mind like his passes differently. A day can feel like a lifetime, an hour like a year and a second stretches longer than for most organic forms. This time, when his mind resurrects to the world, he has a better understanding of himself allowing logic and reason to trump instinct. Even when he finds himself restrained and unable to phase his mind is calm, slotting the new information in its proper place. Soon he is being escorted out and processed, after which he's made to sit through a rigorous re-education program meant to punish him for his earlier transgression which he accepts without complaint. And thus, Vision begins to piece together the full extent of what's been done to him and why.

I. Tourist Trap (For Morgana)

Due to the time spent in unconsciousness and the rigorous re-education, Vision is led to the Wagon Wheel far later than expected. When he enters his eyes fall to the figure in the room, hesitation clear in his burgundy-hued features.

II. The Den (For Roommates)

Once he's situated in his new quarters, the burgundy-hued new comer can be found standing in front of his bed touching the bedding with a misgiving look, before looking back to the occupant(s) of the room. "How long are we expected to sleep here?"

III. Simple Anatomy

a. Heartbeat

Vision can be found standing still with a hand over his chest with eyes shut to the world. Only upon approach will his eyes blink open and focus on the person before him. Given the strange look he's probably getting he deems to explain without prompting. "When I focus, I can feel it... the subtle beat of the heart. Is it always like this for you?"

b. Breathing

Vision knows the current limitations of his mind but the limitations of his new body are still foreign to him, so he sets out to correct this lapse in data. His initial attempts give him a baseline of what he should expect when cutting off his oxygen supply. But what he fails to take into account is his ability to compartmentalize different tasks allowing him to completely ignore his surroundings. So, he focuses entirely on keeping track of the time that he fails to grasp the full meaning of the internal alarms of his body. From an outsider's point of view, everything seems fine. The burgandy-skinned man stands tall, still as stone. That is, until he suddenly gasps taking in a lungful of air as he staggers to the side.

c. Phasing

Phasing to Vision is like breathing. It comes naturally so when his mind focuses too much on another strand of thought his body moves on autopilot. One minute he'll be walking down the corridor and instead of making a right or left turn at the dead end up ahead he smacks straight into the wall stumbling back. Or he'll entirely fail to use the door in front of him and instead walks straight into it at full speed looking utterly surprised when he gets repelled back. Please forgive these lapses. For those who've been around him for a bit of time, this might not be the first time you've seen him do this.... humanity is hard.

IV. Waterfall

Late in the evening, Vision can be found standing at the Public Waterfront in the Subsector. He's still, eyes on the display of cascading water, while the cogs of his mind sort through the days events. Threads of thought run smoothly until the sound of approaching footsteps draw his attention back to the present, and he turns around to greet the person.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Derek is so done with this place. So far, his roommates are cool, so there is that, but now they're throwing in this...dude who's as red as his jumpsuit and the fact that he's asking how long they're expected to sleep here is a little confusing. Here in this room? Or here, in a general sense, and the question really revolves around how many hours they're supposed to sleep?

Lifting an eyebrow as he looks over at the other man — finally, more testosterone in this room; it was severely lacking — Derek turns onto his side and props his head up with his elbow. "...like what time do they release the sleep aid and how many hours between then and the time we have to be up and around for the briefing in the morning, or...?"

You're late are almost her first words to this particular newbie. While her work wasn't thrilling she had been spending some time trying to convince her supervisor of the benefits of lavender as a plant they could grow, and she had already been standing here longer than she had planned, cutting into her time to sweet talk her boss into asking the computer.

Still, she had given Steve her word and so when the man stepped out she stepped forward with a smile on her lips and hand extended in friendship.

'Hello. My name is Morgana, I'll be showing you the ropes. You are...?' even if she had known his name she would ask just the same, this place took too many choices away from people, it didn't let them decide who knew about them or how they came across that information. Privacy was a joke. The least she could do was give others this, when she could.

Medically induced sleep cycles... His lips press together even as his mind gears up in the background, latching onto the information in search of a way to circumvent the effects or prevent them altogether.

"My apologies," he lets the bedding slip from his fingers and turns to face the occupant of the room.

"I should have been more clear in my query. I--" He pauses, brows creasing as his eyes rise to look at him. "I've never actually," he gestures to himself, "slept before. I'm afraid, I don't know what to expect."

Edited 2016-09-13 02:44 (UTC)

The day had barely begun, yet it had already drained half his mental reserves. In the background, his mind worked vigorously to scrub away the re-education courses from his memory banks and into a library deep in the dark recesses of his mind. By the time, he was led to yet another room, the synthezoid turned human was more than a little wary of the stranger he was presented too.

"Vision," he answered, as his eyes fell to her taking in every detail, allowing each to be analyzed and quantified to build a personality-type.

"Thank you," he offered. "For your time."

Derek's eyes narrow with confusion. Yeah, so...this guy doesn't look like a normal human, but that's still not the sort of answer he'd been expecting when he'd asked. A moment later, his eyebrows lift again and he tilts his head slightly. "All right...uh, well..."

He clears his throat and lays back down again. "They'll release the sleep aid at 22:00, so we've got maybe twenty minutes, give or take. Typically, we're up again somewhere between 6:00 and 7:00, so that's...eight to nine hours, on average, depending on the person. Some of us wake naturally earlier than the others. You've never slept, huh? What are you?" he asks.

"Thank you," he slots each piece of information in its proper place within his memory banks. "For the explanation," he elaborates. "It is... appreciated."

He pauses at the question, unsure how to answer that which had no singular truth.

"I am... a clone." His mouth flattens lending an air of disturbance to his words. "... I presume." He looks at him. "Isn't that who we all are?"

Edited 2016-09-13 03:26 (UTC)

Derek takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Patience, he reminds himself, this one is going to require an abundance of patience on my part. He can just feel it. "No problem."

The clone thing, well. Derek doesn't believe that anymore. He did. But that was before his conversation with Buffy his first night. Before running into Stiles and trading "glitches" only to find that they actually have a lot of them in common and it's all just a little too convenient. "That's what they say, anyway," he says. "But what do your glitches say you are, bud?"

An air of recognition.

"...."

Was he... Did he know? He did not sound like the others...

Still, the possibility of this being yet another test was still too high at 23.4%. He needed to lower that percentile before giving himself away and earning another re-education seminar. He did not think his mind could handle another reboot today.

"May I ask," he locks eyes with him, "what they say about you?"

Finding Vision as he staggers and gasps for breath isn't exactly what Tony expected on his way to the Commissary. He had been deep in thought, his conversation with Lydia echoing in his head, but the moment he sees Vision his mind goes blank. For a moment he wonders if he's dreaming, because what the hell, but as he rushes over and takes a hold of his arm to help stabilize him, he realizes this isn't a dream. He's really here and, while Tony is very relieved to see a familiar face, he kind of hates that he got dragged into this place.

"Whoa, hey. You alright?" The answer is obvious, Vision is gasping for breath, and--

Wait. He's gasping for breath? Tony blinks as the realization dawns on him, and his grip tightens just a little more as he feels something cold settle in the pit of his stomach. What had they done to him? "Vision?"

In his struggle for breath, he fails to recognize him as bursts of color dot his vision forcing him to devote his full computing powers to re-establish a stable breathing pattern. Amid the task, a familiar voice cuts through his mind, snapping him back to the present, as light eyes widen in shock. His grip on his arm tightens, growing taunt, as he slowly turns to face the man that filled a great deal of his memory banks.

"... To-ny?"

His voice is soft, and like a child seeking their parent in the dark, it wavers in its delivery.

Edited 2016-09-14 05:22 (UTC)

"Yeah, it's me."

Tony's voice is as reassuring as it can be, even if he's trying really hard to not demand right here and now why he is gasping for breath. Vision sounds almost lost, and it makes something inside Tony twist because he had never heard him like that before. It just makes his concern grow even more, but for now he just tries to be there for him instead of starting to demand answers.

"Do you need to sit down?" What happened? he almost adds, but bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing so. "You're good, buddy, I've got you."

When he didn't take her hand, she raised her brows and let it drop back beside her. If she had been walking when he said his name, Morgana was almost certain she would have tripped. She, the seer (former, currently) had been assigned a new special named Vision.

She almost wondered if Steve had known, or if the computer had finally grown a sense of humour.

'Vision is an unusual name,' Morgana said with a smile as she half turned and then gestured. 'We can walk and talk, we have time.' even though she would've preferred to be sweet talking her boss, she remembered how rough the computer could be on a "new" mind, how unsettling this place was.

Ah, so there is a set of cogs still turning in this guy's head, which means he's potentially not as fucked up as Derek was after his orientation. He still attributes that to stubbornness on his part and an admitted hope that the glitches were exactly that. He's gotten past that and accepted them for the crappy former life that they actually point to him having lived.

"You can ask," Derek says, shrugging. He doesn't actually answer it specifically and he's doing that for a reason: Buffy. He's still figuring out where she stands. "Not human."

His mind bombards him with questions that all stem from the same unique line of thought. Why? Why was he here?

He stares at him.

"No," his lips press together as if stopping himself from saying more and instead pulls back to fully support his own weight. When he gets back to his feet, his eyes shift to him, a look of uncertainty still clouding his eyes.

"I am sorry, I... " he touches his chest. "This form... it's difficult to comprehend."

A turn of his head. Not human... Did that mean he was he like him? A mind placed in a body not its own? His eyes settle on him more closely, taking in every detail.

"It seems to be a common glitch." Or so he'd been told.

"Do you--" he stops himself, eyes shifting to the ground as if re-thinking his words before looking back at him. "Does this place provide... privacy?" He touches the wall panel, fingers skimming over the digital buttons missing the loss of being unable to enter its matrix with his mind alone.

This form.

Tony tries not to stare, but it's hard not to. He's trying to keep himself from showing how much he's concerned about Vision right now, because the last thing he wants is to unsettle him any further, but he can't help the way that his brow furrows nonetheless.

"No, don't apologize." 'It's okay,' he almost says, but there's nothing okay about any of this. His eyes trail down to the way that Vision's chest keeps rising and falling, and his frown only deepens. "You're really breathing."

It's said somewhere between a question and a statement, and Tony finally asks the question that has been burning in his tongue ever since walking up to him. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Tony's gaze draws his own down to where his lungs expand and contract, the action lifting his shoulders up and down in a rhythmetic motion.

"I don't think I have a choice," a hint of sarcasm enters his tone, considering his momentary lapse. Though, it lasts but a moment before his mind suddenly shifts gears at that last question.

"....."

His brows crease, and his eyes shift down away from him, a picture of perfect discomfort he was too inexperienced to notice, let alone hide.

"I am..." he starts only to break into a frown as his mind struggles to put into words his shifting threads of thought. "I'm not fully aware of this form," his starts again, eyes lifting back up to meet his. "I'm afraid I'm not qualified to give an accurate answer at the moment."

Edited 2016-09-15 06:05 (UTC)

He never considered it unusual. Though, in truth, he had never considered the meaning behind it. He supposed it told more truths about the people who gave it to him than it did about himself.

"May I ask, what your name is?" he asked, voice low, still wary of what this tour actually meant. After spending hours acclimating to the rigid environment, he was not so easy to trust yet another stranger.

'Morgana, as I said before.' she replied, uncertain if he wanted more or he just hadn't heard her.

Between that and ignoring her offered hand, Morgana wondered what type of man the computer had even brought in this time and what exactly it mean to use him for.

'So would you like your tour, Vision?'

Even without his werewolf senses and keener eyes, Derek can tell when he's being studied. In this case, he lets it slide because he has a feeling this guy is feeling a lot like Derek was a few days ago. He's just not quite as far down the rabbit hole, perhaps, as Derek had been. Which, honestly, is probably better for this guy, anyway. It's a bitch to climb back out.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he replies.

His eyebrows lift in question when the man starts to ask a question and then pauses as if trying to decide whether he should or not. "This room?" Derek asks to clarify. Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Don't know. Probably not. I don't think there are a whole lot of places here that do, if I'm being honest."

It's rare for Tony to be speechless, and for a moment he finds himself not knowing what to say. Vision is...human? He takes in the discomfort on his face, and it's almost like he's watching Vision try to fit into his own body right in front of him. It's hard to even imagine how he must be feeling, but Tony wishes there was something he could do to at least help making the transition a little easier.

"Alright," he finally says with a small sigh. "Let's...teach you about how much a deep breath can do to help when you're freaking out about something. Close your eyes for me, take a deep breath, and try to let it out slowly. Try to just focus on your breathing. Are you... Does it feel like something is beating out of your chest?"

He tries to keep his voice as leveled as possible, as if that way he can be a source of reassurance for him. Even if he feels his own nerves fraying at this whole thing, because seriously. What the hell.

He looks like someone from one of Hardison's comic books. Perhaps that's why Parker is watching him.

Maybe she's bored.

Maybe she's gone too long without human interaction. Working with the team has ruined her solitary tendencies.

Maybe she wants to find out if he has pockets and what are in those pockets. A girl has to keep her skills honed.

Right now, she's purposefully trying to be noticed. It's hard for her not to walk almost silently, so her footsteps will have an affected thump to them, like there are weights in her shoes.

"What are you?"

Parker will never master manners.

His lids fall close, following his instructions without protest. He breaths in feeling his lungs expand, holds for two seconds, then breaths out slowly.

"Yes," he answers, eyes closed as he takes another breath. "But it is not beating. The sound is made up of the valves of the human heart opening and closing as they pump blood."

He pulls the knowledge from his memory banks, and finds solace in the simple recitation of facts, enough to establish a more natural breathing pattern.

"I see."

If it was not safe to communicate openly then it would be even less safe to infiltrate the security system from this alcove. He would need to find a more... suitable space in pursuit of his inquiries.

He looks back at him, hand falling to his side. "You are," a pause, "to share these quarters with me, am I correct?"

He steps to the side. "Please lead the way."

It would be better to start with the basics and a map of his internment would be the logical place to start.

He hears her approach, and turns to greet her but she beats him to the punchline.

"...."

It's not the bluntness of her question that has him turning his head in speculation but rather the question itself that causes him pause.

"I... don't know."

Parker purses her lips, only to make a rather rude noise: half fart / half raspberry. Clearly, that was an unsatisfactory answer. People are supposed to know what they are. She's a thief. Hardison's a hacker. Steve Rogers is obviously a nefarious spy. Root is interesting. That's how people work.

"Why do you look like that?"

Maybe he didn't understand the question, so she'll get even more invasive, in both her language, and in his personal space.

He looks down at his hands, the burgandy coloring a stark contrast to her own. "I suppose," he turns his hands over, "they didn't realize this color pigmentation is not normal among humans. After all, color is relative, it does not change the overall function of this form."

Parker looks to her own hands, and shrugs. "No. It doesn't, but it makes it hard to sneak in anywhere." This sounds like the worst problem ever to Parker.

"So you're made that way? You're not tattooed all over or something?" The questions could be rude, or sound terribly naive. Parker really means it in the latter sense.

Why does she need to know? "It's not the computer saying what level you are?" She wouldn't put it past the computer, who is more crazy than she is.

A hint of a smile, though his lips barely lift. "No, I'm afraid. I was made this way."

A pause.

"I don't think that's the case here. The being who brought us here," notice how he doesn't call it the computer, "seems to operate on logic when it comes to structure and organization. It would be highly inefficient to catalog samples through color," yes, he did just call them samples, "which means the color-coding is for our benefit meant to help us better grasp its organization pattern. You see," he looks at her, "The human brain can detect and process color much faster than it can read words making it a more effective marker of rank and hierarchy."

Derek nods. "Yeah, me...plus there's Buffy and Holtz," he replies.

Yes, Vision, they share a room with two women in addition. Good times, right?

A furrow of his brows. "Buffy? Holtz?"

The names mean nothing to him but he does understand one thing. Four. There were four people living here.

"Is this a family unit?"

Tony understands that need to focus on facts, as if that way it creates a sort of raft to save him from drowning. Seeing that same need in Vision makes a small smile cross his lips, and he gives a small nod even if his eyes are closed. He doesn't want to break his concentration as he controls his breathing, especially if he needs to recite more facts rather than talk about anything else.

It's not until Vision seems considerably calmer that Tony gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze that is meant to be reassuring.

"What... Is there anything I can do to help you 'settle in'? You know, as much as it's possible around this place."

Right, well, at least if he didn't follow her she could say she tried. Morgana paused a moment, deciding what she might want to show him first, something she probably should have planned ahead.

'Come on, I'll show you the commissary, you'll be spending a lot of time there.' she decided, hoping he actually would follow her as she walked away.

Derek can't help the laugh that bubbles up and out of him, largely surprise, but also amusement. "Yeah, not so much, man. They just put us in the room together, I don't know how they decided who would stay with who. I'd never met those women before the first night staying in here," he replies. "But they're cool, though, for whatever that's worth."

He pauses and gives a little shrug. "I'm Derek, by the way." Since he's mentioning names, anyway.

The sudden laugh that spills from him has his eyes creasing in confusion. Had he said something that merited that reaction?

"...."

He watches him, still not understanding when he gives out his name, which gives him something to work with. This, at least, he understand.

"Vision," he introduces himself. "I am... new." He looks back at his bed. "I'm sorry, but I'm still... acclimating to this ~~body~~ environment. You see," he looks back at him. "I had a late start to the day." What with the punishment he endured for attacking his initial handler.

"Why would I be spending my time there?" He asks as he follows behind her, his eyes on the walls taking in every detail.

The gesture has him opening his eyes and shifting his gaze to him.

"I don't understand," his brows crease. "What more do I need to do to 'settle in'?"

They pulled him from his original form into this... host body, punished him with a full session of re-education, been lead around on a tour, and had worked on discovering the limits of this form since then. What more could there possibly be left?

Vision? That's one hell of a name, Derek thinks. If this guy didn't look like something less human than he does, Derek might venture that his parents were hipsters, or something, but he has a feeling that the name isn't one for a human being at all, so he doesn't share the sentiment.

"Yeah, well, this place takes a lot of adjusting, anyway, man." He shrugs a little and looks over at the clock. "You should get comfortable. They're going to release the sleep aid soon. Don't get caught in an uncomfortable position or waking up tomorrow morning is going to feel like hell," he says with a tone that suggests he speaks from experience. Because he does.

"I don't know, how much have you seen?"

He's not trying to be a smartass; he doesn't know how much he has seen, so he's just trying to see if he's missing anything. Mainly because he's still trying to be a sort of neutral presence for Vision, in case he's internally freaking out or something.

"Are you used to being here? The Computer, the... Well, everything?"

Tony compares the Computer to Ultron a lot, he can't help it. He idly wonders if he's the only one that makes that connection, but considering his hand in building Ultron... Yeah, he really doesn't want to ask or point it out.

She makes an odd noise that sound like fffffftttt, and crosses her arms. "That's a relief. I would not want a full bod tattoo." Leaning in a little, Parker closes her eyes and feels the mist from the water. It's a simple joy, but that's what she likes best.

She'll stop talking just long enough to veer into the very awkward, is-this-conversation-over zone, but when she opens her eyes, the extreme focus is that of a five year old who has spotted a puppy. "The computer doesn't have logic, it's crazy. It's crazier than me, and that's bad." Pause. "People have told me."

'Unless they've changed something in the "cloning" process, you will need to eat.' she was going to have to tell Steve to keep an eye on this one, she thought as she paused a moment to look at him again.

'RED specials have no access to any kitchens or real food, so you need to eat what's given or buy yourself food with the credits earned by doing your duties each day. You don't have to start working until tomorrow, did they tell you where you've been assigned?'

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Something is out of Tune

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