Feb 20 17:23:06 109 PA - 'Bot, Babe, Boy
From Chronicles
Feb 20 17:23:06 109 PA.
MAIN STREET NORTH
Even in late February, southern Missouri is a cold, wet and generally rotten place to be. The air is below freezing, with wind and clouds dumping sleet on Kingsdale. Here on Main Street, the normal vehicular traffic is as busy as always for an hour or two after sunrise. Pedestrians though, are suffering beneath the onslaught, often scurrying from shelter to shelter like rats. One person outside this day is coming out of the River Walk to the west, marching on a path that would take him right up the museum's doors, assuming that he were foolish enough to plow through the road itself. A parka's fur hood is pulled over his head, along with an encompassing ski mask. A greatcoat has been pulled around his shoulders, which blows quite dramatically in the air. Obviously unwanted drama, judging by the way he continues to shift his body so that it doesn't blow farther than necessary.
One can be glad that the advances of modern technology have eliminated the issue that is rust from machinery. Alex certainly is, as the robot is machinery. He hovers down the street at an aimless pace comparable to human walking. Offering pedestrians below convenient cover should they be going its way and able to ignore the many tools hanging below the disc part of the robot's build.
Rianna is walking along this time of night as well, a slicker over the armor that she has on, though her armor seems a bit different from most given that its helm is designed to look like a cowboy hat. The slicker moves now and again revealing that she isn't unarmed. She is looking this way and that. She does pause against a building as she sees the robot, though the parka does can't her attention too, she isn't used to the clothing styles this far east and north of where she grew up.
Gabriel stops at the edge of traffic, looking north and south, perhaps trying to judge vectors. In the end, the road is simply too wide and too full for him to challenge fate, and he is drawn north to one of the designated crossings. A path that will in theory take him near a very young cowgirl who has caught his notice, if only for being a very young cowgirl. That's strange. Not as strange as other things, but still, to him... strange.
Alex's trajectory takes the machine across the street soon enough. But it does not veer for common notion of a cross walk. Rather the large machine simply rises in altitude to hover across the road without any change in course at all. Much to the dismay of those taking shelter as they are abandoned on the other side. Maybe new people will take shelter on this side. Time might be now to do so as the robot seems to take a moment to reorient.
The giant floating robot is certainly enough to grab Gabriel's attention as well. Though by looking at his eyes, he's come along far enough in this era to find a giant floating robot less strange than an armed teenage cowgirl. He takes his time, standing beneath a sheltering tree - or more accurately, beside it, to block the wind - and watching the mechanical monster cross. Perhaps he can wave it down and get across before the light turns, thus avoiding the rush.
Alex decides to turn north, taking the large machine to the intersection anyway. Though by its pace it is certainly in no hurry. It definitely looks capable of faster than walking speeds.
Gabriel is nothing if not creative, even if his creativity is sometimes disguised as foolishness. He lifts his arm high in the air and waves toward the floating mechanical beast. "Morning!" come the Kentucky drawl as loud as he can manage over the noise of the street.
"No need to shout," the neutral voice notes calmly as the machine comes to a stop beside Gabriel's tree. "And your waves are similarly exaggerated. Could count your hairs waving in the wind from 60 feet. Not that they do so to gain attention.." The clearly artificial voice notes and Alex awaits reply.
Considering that his hairs are hidden beneath both a parka's hood and a ski mask that extends to Gabriel's shoulders, counting hairs would be a neat trick indeed. "How're you doing?" Maybe Alex doesn't need him to shout, but the wind is enough that he needs to shout so that he can hear himself shout.
"I continue to function acceptably," Alex replies in a duller than usual tone. "Though direction for that function is lacking. I seem to be designed with technology far behind human capability. Yet a young man with a hammer can do many things I can not. I have a niche, but it seems to be filled already." The robot explains, sharing its burden with the random curious human.
"Did you mean beyond human capability?" Gabriel can't help but ask. "Everything has its place, a niche, you just have to find it. No one can fill anyone's niche. Meaning of life, or at least, one of them. Name's Gabriel! I'd be happy to talk with you more, if you might be able to get me to the other side of the street and underneath the museum's facade so I can find some shelter."
"I did, which only illustrates how I am even not advanced enough for this marvelous construct. It deserves perfection, and I am sorely lacking in that." Alex replies before taking a moment to process the request. "The human wishes to use me as a public transit receptacle. How typical. That'll be two fifty would be an apt reply. Perhaps Gabriel can offer Alex a better one that doesn’t sound so using.."
"Sir, we all have not just niches, but God-given abilities that make us unique, and I could really use a lift. Better than a trash receptacle, right?" Gabriel smiles widely, hoping that a machine will figure out that the expression is good-natured humor. "The museum's a good place. But who knows, give it a try. Maybe public transit is your niche? Repairs on the go? Really, I'd be very happy to chat with someone as interesting as yourself, but somewhere that I don't feel as if the snowflakes are trying to rip my clothing off. But I suppose I can walk, no offense intended." He doesn't quite turn to find his own way - but he might be close.
Alex says, "Alex." The machine corrects with a slight shake. "I am neither knighted or male." It notes before considering the path to the museum. "Walking there beside one another would be the human way. But I am not human so why cling to such symbolism? Excuse my existential dilemma. I'll give you the lift. How should I secure you?"
Gabriel smiles. "Something under each arm should suffice, thank you. I can hold my strength for that just fine. Alex." He waits to see where said 'something' may appear from. "If you'd lift me out of the way of traffic? I can pull my legs up, but not high enough. So. You come here often?"
Alex takes a moment to consider its eight tool arms before shaking its head in the negative. "I'm not designed to carry something like you, so that conventional manner would be risky. You can either take hold of my grapple arm below, or step onto my disc and hang onto my shoulders for the crossing." The machine explains, gesturing to demonstrate either option.
Gabriel makes his own gesturing motion - 'down.' "I'll take the high ground, thanks Alex. You know that's a good rule in general. Taking the high ground. Morally. Combat. Building. Good lesson, perhaps part of your niche. So, where're you from?" He tries to make conversation with the enormous floating whatsit. It really isn't that far from the flying saucers in the silver screen that he'd come to know in the last decade. Perhaps that makes him more comfortable with it.
Alex tilts to bring one edge close to ground level and offers a hand to help Gabriel ascend to the machine's level before takeoff. "Chi-town originally, Devil's Gate Research Facility more recently," it answers as it waits for its passenger to secure himself. Once secure the machine launches over the intersection in an impressive leap, turning heads all over before it comes to a stop before the Museum.
"Whoa!" Sometimes even Gabriel can be caught off guard. "Nice leap! Thanks," he says, stepping back to the ground. He hurries into the sheltered area, shaking his body to get the flakes off. Waterproof, yes. Piles-of-snow-proof, no. At least he seems to be warm. Even pulls the headpiece back down around his neck, pushing the fur-lined parka back. "Thanks, Alex! Much better. Brrrrrr." He exaggerates a shivering motion. "I've been to Chicago and St. Louis. Pretty recently, too, though that depends on your interpretation of time." Yeah. Perhaps he can be interesting as well.
"Some say time is an illusion. So maybe there is no need to interpret it?" Alex offers in reply, as it level out after Gabriel's disembarkment. "But I assume you mean a time anomaly rift. That is known to happen once in a while. Must be fascinating to compare now and then."
"Indeed it is. Apparently. At least, people keep telling me that it's fascinating. Personally, I'd rather go home." He pokes an arm towards what serves as a head for the robot. "You say you came from a research facility over at St. Louis, but are still lacking purpose, huh? Must not have been part of the research staff. Or you got bored. Or you were being researched? You're certainly interesting enough." Gabriel chuckles. "Or at least, I think so. Maybe you're boring to most everyone else."
Alex nods. "I was a researcher. And the robotics technician there. Kept things going and got first look at alien tech. This bit of alien tech decided I’d be better incorporated in it. So all of a sudden I was a candidate for many dire operations. So since I do still want to live, I had to flee that scenario. Now I'm looking for a more favorable one." The machine explains.
An eyebrow perks up. Then a second one. Then a third. No, only two. The last was just anticipation. "I'm sorry, you'll have to explain that one to me, Alex. You are and you aren't what I'm looking at? Pleasant and dramatic means of public transportation without a purpose? Gender neutral, as far as I can see?" Gabriel takes a peek under Alex's saucer, perhaps looking for a pair of round mechanical baubles.
Alex shakes its head. "Gender hardly seems relevant now. If anything I am asexual. I would have to replicate and assemble copies of my own parts for any semblance of reproduction. No that still would not work, my design is more of a parasite. Where the intellect alone is the host for the creation."
"So that would imply that the physical body I just rode over on only exists because your mind exists. I suppose that's the ultimate 'I think, therefore I am'?" Gabriel tucks his hands lightly into his pant's pockets. "Or did you mean that the construct is a host for the intellect that I'm speaking with?" Sure, he'd probably like to take whack a the machine with a hammer, but he doesn't even ask if he can take a swipe at it with his blade. The man in the greatcoat and the dark floating machine are up the stairs of the museum, east of Main Street. Somehow they've found a place out of the worst of the weather.
Rianna had slipped off the street, nature having called and been answered. She returns and glances around once more, adjusting the hat on her head.
"It seems it was designed to suit the hosted intellect after the transfer. "Once I was in the machine it started adapting itself to suit my skills and senses. None of which were apparent before hand. Only after the integration did cameras, sensors, voice modulators develop. And later still came my torso and tool arms very reminiscent of my trade and interests," Alex explains to Gabriel with a shrug. "The machine was like an embryo of sorts, that got fertilized with my intellect."
Gabriel nods along, then helpfully suggests with a smile, "Perhaps it's just waiting on the gender, working that part out. Humans have a difficult time defining it, on a certain level. Maybe give it a year and you'll have to be wearing pants and a shirt, or a dress. Interesting machine. But?" He quirks his head again, then flops a hand out, palm up. "If it's been developing all of the necessary things, perhaps it already knows exactly what it is in life that's your niche. Maybe, just maybe... you'll actually have it easier than most people. The machine taking you down the trail to your exact purpose?" For now, he stays away from the question of how the brain was transferred, as he likely would have no idea what Alex was explaining anyway.
Rianna turns and glances towards the robot and the one talking, raising a brow again. She adjusts her coat and then heads over towards the two to get a closer look.
"Really?" Alex asks, looking as skeptical as one can without facial expressions. "For what purpose? As a giant sexual stimulator of unparallelled advancement? I sincerely hope not. As for the rest, maybe, so long as I don’t fancy a change of career sometime soon. What if I found a few years from now I'm far more fond of biology?" The machine poses to the bundled human before giving a brief glance to the girl approaching in armor. Apparently to show it is aware.
"That's what I'm saying. Clearly the machine seems to know what you think. Maybe you'll never find that you have absolutely no interest in machines, and you'll end up studying freshwater clams," Gabriel offers with a shrug. The teenage armored cowgirl gets a look from the older fellow as well, a simple bob of his head and warm smile directed toward her. "Just because you have a career or an interest, doesn't mean that you don't actually have another interest. I thought I wanted to be a carpenter, and though I may still enjoy it, see what I found as a career?"
Rianna dips her head a bit as she gets closer again, "Hello," she says softly, a slight accent to her voice. She watches close at the two.
"Yes an inter-dimensional historian, interesting." Alex answers a bit drably before turning to regard and address the girl's greeting. "Hello. Something I can do for you?"
Gabriel offers the teenage armored cowgirl a simple and quiet, "Hello. Little place out of the weather, here." Indeed, his hood and mask have been lowered for now.
Rianna shrugs, "All sorts of weather comes and goes," she says and smiles, "Was just a little curious, am new in town." She adjusts her coat again, maybe a nervous habit.
"As am I, and it seems welcoming enough. Though by the glances I get I seem to be outside the normal new arrival description. You look like you'll fit in far better miss." The machine notes with a slight nod.
Gabriel smiles at both people. One girl, one 'it' that he chooses to refer to as a male because it's easier than finding neutral pronouns. "This weather, like last winter's weather, seems to be worse that it should be, and hangs around longer than the seasons naturally intend. But you seem to be handling it well. Brand new arrival, or just getting out of your new apartment for the first time?" After changing his stance so that he has no need to continually pivot his neck he offers a polite, "My name is Gabriel, and in some ways, I'm probably more out of place than either of you, so we're good company." Anyone who knew such a thing would recognize a thick Kentucky twang throughout his voice. Those who don't recognize it, as there's only slim chance that it exists, may well think that he simply has an unfortunate speech impediment.
