Sophie X-6's Story

With dusk just upon the horizon, the glinting jewels of the city-scape began to flicker to life. Optics danced from left to right, up and down, as he tailed along behind his sister with relative ease. Who'd have thought getting an upgrade would offer so much benefit? Last he'd known, he'd been nigh perfect. It just went to show that technology truly held no bounds; everything had a point of becoming obsolete. Everything about him; new. Updated AI. Upgraded tech, enhancements, and a brand new shell and entirely new chassis. Hardly anything appeared to be original anymore, save for his dashing good looks.

As Sophie came to a halt just below him, his momentum slowed until it became a hovering crawl. The moment he lingered directly above, he began his descent as she began her own, following as a good brother should. "Hold your horses, jeez!" She couldn't contain her excitement once she'd started. He'd never have a peaceful moment in times such as these. "I'm right behind you!"

Still, he hadn't quite figured out what she'd brought him out and along for. It'd been some time since they'd killed fleshies; for Alex in particular. His level of hatred for them hadn't changed. His inner demons hadn't been quelled, and his morose disposition in regards to it all hadn't dissipated, either. But he also couldn't be anything less than a very acute, older, brother. He could bottle, and shelve, his hateful, vengeful, nature for the sake of Sophie. He didn't like it, but he'd come to the conclusion that the less blood he had on his hands, the happier a sister he'd have. And above all else in this world. On this world. On any world, and in any galaxy. She would always be the most important part of his life, even if he existed as a machine. He valued her above all else, even his inhumanity/humanity and his vengeance.

He watched silently as she ever so casually built her own entrance into a retail clothing shop. Shopping; The five finger discount variant of it at least. It didn't surprise him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm comin'. I already said it once. Clean your ears, kid." He murmured, trying to keep silent. "Keep your voice down. We don't want anyone to notice us..." He added, glancing around before following her in. She had a point, really. His old, dusty, attire did happen to be in disarray. He may have had a new body, or well...an updated one, but his wardrobe sucked. "Well, if you say so. What do you think I'd look good in?" He questioned with a wry grin.

As long as the colors weren't girlish. As long as the ensemble appeared classy, and sharp, or at least man-sensible.

He nonchalantly followed behind her, optics flicking either direction to make sure passersby didn't happen to catch sight and decide to stick their noses into a situation they didn't belong in. "Who else, little mouse." He murmured, poking slight fun at her size. "Or would you rather I call you pint size? Pip-squeak, maybe?" He continued with a small chuckle. He couldn't be none the wiser as to what she'd planned for him. And, to be fair, he did suddenly find an appetite for a new attire. All caught up in his vehement, fiery, desires, he'd forgotten to really live for himself. That is, if one could call it living. Functioning, perhaps.

Whilst she took off down one aisle, he instead broke off and took another route. One of these, this, and one of those; maybe this and that, too. And definitely these! He plucked a vast assortment of items from shelves, even bounding over the aisle-ways themselves to more quickly get around. Only then, when she'd came back upon him, did he already have pretty much everything he needed, or wanted really. Of course, he took one look at her offerings and couldn't help but grimace. "Eugh! Come on! What is that?" He whined aloud, suddenly drawing a hand over his mouth to silence himself. After a moment of respite, realizing no one had heard, he continued. "A dress vest? Why a dress vest!? Oh. I get it. That video game fella. Agent 47, right? Dressing me up like a hitman, right?" He mused with a sudden grin. "Even if you aren't, I think that's what I'm gonna roll with. Just so I can get through wearin' it." He chuckled.

Not long after came the pants, and remainder of the outfit. Dressy. With subtle hints of red. He couldn't help but channel Agent 47 through his head at this point fully. Not entirely perfect as a recreation, but even almost entirely machine, what little bit of his original mind left over still had enough power to imagine things. Having changed, at this juncture, he wandered out and eyed himself up and down in a mirror. "Ugh. I haven't worn one of these things since...well, I was alive." He joked to himself. "You really think this should be a new look for me, or something?" He suddenly questioned Sophie. "It ain't quite my style, but I guess...It could grow on someone..." He mused, squinting some to glance himself over again.

She had to have an angle, he just couldn't be sure what it could be. Then again, she always had been a spontaneous individual. And it likely would never change, either.

"Pow, Mister Hitman."

Strangely enough, he couldn't help but smile at the comment. Perhaps there could be serenity found in small moments like these, even for a lifeless droid such as himself. Perhaps someday, soon even, he could just learn to let go of the wrong-doings done to himself. Letting go of what they'd done to Sophie, though, would prove a troublesome task. His fractured memories couldn't be spoken for beyond the moments of his death, for the most part, but deep down, he hoped his relationship with her, and his family, had been wholesome and full. Perhaps his vengeance couldn't be justified, but at the same time, nor could they justify what they'd put the two of them through.

They were children. Meant to lay in rest. Instead, they became tools of war and death. Perhaps they were meant to serve some higher, shining, purpose; death, destruction, and sewing the seeds of mourned loss, though, didn't sit well with him.

In that very moment, a sudden hypocritical epiphany struck him, but he found himself shook from it the moment she questioned if he'd been coming along.

"Yeah, no. I'm right behind ya, Soph. Sorry! I was lost in just how weird this outfit feels and looks on me." He chuckled, pondering to himself. 'To inflict begets the infliction...' followed by a sigh. 'To live and let be, then?'

Like she'd done prior, he snagged a bag and stuffed his own pickings into them before making a dash toward the store-front just as she launched; the resounding force rattling the building and sounding the alarm. A mental face-palm as he took off, his own launch shattering the already fragile glass, left him grumbling about the irony of it all. It took him relatively little time to catch up to her, so he could complain about it audibly.

"How is it you have thrusters and all that jazz, and I don't, but when I launch I shatter windows?" He griped, then rolled his eyes before he shifted the subject entirely. "Just where the hell are we off to, anyway, all dressed up? Some sorta surprise, hm? I don't think there's anything special about today, or tonight, so ya got me..."

He had little challenge in following her as they careened through the sky to reach whatever destination she’d had in mind. His mind still coursed over the possibilities, and still came to no conclusion. Perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought, then again, she’d spent several years learning new things whilst he’d spent just as many collecting dust in a heap somewhere in the underground. Deactivated for some reason, or another. So many years lost out in reconnecting, but that had been then. Now he had all the time he needed to truly devote himself to her.

“Orion, huh? I remember you mentioning them once…” He began, only to pause at the mentioning of a name he hadn’t been familiarized with before. “Adam?” He inquired, only to pause again. “Connected an AI to Aiya’s brain?” He continued, suddenly confounded. So much to try and process with so little context behind it all. “Right. Vicky. She’s the AI, I take it?” He mentioned only to apply the air brakes in futility. Instead, he air-vaulted over her, tumbling in the air to try and gain some semblance of balance. Hollering out, he stuck out his tongue almost immediately. “A little warning next time! But alright, alright. Lead away…” He mumbled.

He watched as she took to a free fall, a light shake of his head but a smile fixated on his face. She still held that childish enthusiasm, and a thrill for adventure, no matter how she achieved the results. He followed just as swiftly, falling beside her before slowing his own descent until he landed upon his twos with a gentle ‘tak’ of either footfall. It dawned on him then, though, that she had indeed been scheming the entire time. Her words to Aiya spoke volumes.

He’d been duped. Fooled entirely. The outfit hadn’t been for her, or for him. It didn’t take a genius to understand where she’d intended for this to go. One could have surmised that she’d planned for the three of them to have fun, but the fact she’d thrown him in a fancy getup whilst she dressed down, albeit nice enough, and expected Aiya to dress up just as lavish? Well. Again, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

“Really?” He questioned for a moment as he stood there, glancing Aiya up and down. With a single thumb thrown in the third wheel’s direction, his brow arched dangerously, albeit a frown didn’t appear as had been expected in times passed. “Was this your master plan, Sophie?” He murmured. He couldn’t help but thrust his hands into his pockets at this point and suddenly throw his head back, eyes rolling, as he silently lamented and bathed in his woes. The only positive thing he could take from this? She did at least look nice. But he couldn't dare say such a thing. Never.

He still found a dislike for the girl. Her instantaneous hatred of him upon their first meeting. The way she’d meddled in his family affairs. The way she’d tried to cleave them apart. He despised it all. He despised her. With a ferocity unbridled. He could almost truly say he hated her. He did hate her. Or, well. Then. It would have been a lie to say he hadn’t forgotten about her somewhat in recent times, but he’d left Sophie to her own devices and spent time with her accordingly when he had chance opportunities. He’d relinquished some hold on her, opting to avoid controlling her as he’d likely done in the past without truly realizing it.

She didn’t have to be him. She didn’t have to become him. His demons were his own and he’d be a monster to shove those very demons onto her shoulders and expect her to react as he did. He still hated humans, so vehemently so. But that ever present conundrum continued to rattle around in his head. And at the end of the rope, so to speak, he realized that Aiya, no matter how much of a petulant annoyance she could be, and no matter how invasive she’d been to his and his sister’s life; she had given something to Sophie that he could not.

Proper guidance. A friend. A new lease on life, really. A vision far from the one he’d presented.

He knew her angle, and why she’d interfered; steering Sophie away from him at every turn. Dejected back then, sure that had been him. Angry, and spiteful, most definitely. But it all came full circle. Sophie deserved better than Alex could give. And with all that had come to pass, now he gave his most valiant effort at being better for her sake.

This episode here would prove to be another obstacle to attempt to overcome. No matter how sour a taste it left in his mouth.

“Color me curious, I guess.” He finally spoke up. He tried valiantly. So exponentially hard, and still he faltered somewhat. “But of all people…” He murmured, a sullen pout somewhat visible on his features. He even went so far as to gesture with both arms, his shoulders slouched as if defeated. “You know she absolutely hates me.”

Sure. He could be petty, too. Shift the guilt somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anyone else but him, to be precise.

He could read her face as easily as a child could understand a picture book. Her unwelcoming visage explained all he needed to know. Their feelings about one another were quite mutual. In fact, if she even sought to purse her lips anymore she’d likely look like she had none. He couldn’t help but sigh at her passive aggressive words, but took them in stride regardless. He took a moment to try and think up some quip of sorts, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Sophie had already cut him off.

“What!?” He yelped as she shoved him into a seat, prompting him to try and straighten his attire without tumbling backward out of the seat with the force she’d thrown him into it with. “W-wait, where are you going? Don’t just leave me like this!” He cried out only to realize just how futile his attempt had been. Wonderful. Now what the hell could he do?

He watched as she scooted off until the little dot she appeared to be seemed to blink out of visibility, his built in scanners returning blank signals in the wake of her departure. She’d left him to the wolves; one in particular. One he couldn’t figure out how to begin to try and break the ice with, pun not intended.

While he held a great disdain for her, he still couldn’t fault her for her actions. His eyes lingered on her, lightly bouncing from her face to the actions she took with her straw. It probably could have appeared to be unsettling, but he truly seemed to be in heavy thought on what to say or what to do with the situation at hand. He likely looked puzzled, as he truly had been. What did he say? What could he say? Ultimately it boiled down to one thing. His pride, or Sophie’s giddy intentions. What held more value? Easy answer.

“So, I guess she just went and left…” He murmured aloud. “Did you have any idea she’d been plotting this?” He lightly questioned, trying his best to sound sincere, rather than smart-assed or condescending. “Probably not, since she went and had you dress up too, hm?” He chuckled. He could only liken this to trying to tread lightly on broken glass, with arms full of fine china. He had no confidence, though. For one meant to be the pinnacle technological achievement, his nerves, if one could call them that, were surely rattled. He didn’t want to disappoint Sophie.

“It shows, though.” He finally added. “You look nice. Better than me stuffed in this silly getup…” He finished, fingers gingerly tapping on the tabletop. He couldn’t help but rest his chin in his open palm now, elbow propped on the table. He hadn’t even thought to fix his disheveled hair; he probably looked ridiculous.