Sophie X-6's Story

He’d do great. Oh, totally. This entire scene had become a grand masterpiece, hadn’t it? The poor waitress. As much as he detested fleshies, the poor girl didn’t realize what she’d stumbled upon and he actually found himself feeling sorry for the poor thing. Eugh. He actually felt sympathy. How backwards could that possibly be?

Whilst she went on her tirade, he casually gave a sidelong glance in the direction of the waitress, with enough courage to speak up through Aiya’s droning self-tantrum. Upgrades meant he could, once again, savor the taste of food and beverage. He’d demanded as much, at least. “I’ll take a soda, surprise me I’m not particular. And probably a vanilla sundae. Cherry, please, and a drizzling of strawberry syrup.” He finished; with enough time to catch the rest of Aiya’s rant. “And whatever she’d like, if she wants anything.” He tacked on, for good measure.

“Right, I understand that. Clearly.” He replied, in regards to her comment on not liking him. “She had me, hook, line, and sinker, too.” He murmured, trying his best to think up something, anything, to say. “I’m not fond of you either, but…” He paused. He wanted to word this correctly. “I don’t have any particular reason to dislike you.” Damage control? Really? How low did he have to sink to try and play damage control now? Not like any of it would truly work, anyway.

He wouldn’t be able to salvage anything out of this, but he’d try regardless.

He casually traced a circle upon the table top as he thought, a heavy ponderance that left him reeling to try and find some sort of piece to offer.

“I won’t put myself in your shoes. I won’t try and come off as a condescending asshole.” He spoke. “But I will say you’ve earned your right to hate me. I can say in complete honesty I was a douchebag, quite a few times.” He explained with a mild smile. “So I’ll apologize for that. I won’t bore you with the details as to why I was, but let’s just say I had some selfish, unwarranted, reasons.”

He listened. He gave her all the time in the world to work her wordy magic whilst he waited for his order. She didn’t tell him anything he hadn’t already been aware of, though. It all came down to a boring, monotonous, recollection of his shortcomings. His inability to be a guardian to his sister. He couldn’t be sure whether or not she knew his, or Sophie’s, side of the story though. So he'd educate her. She'd dismiss it all, without a beat, but he'd still go through the trouble.

“That’s not happening.” He began. “No infantile competition to decide who stays and who goes.” He continued, narrowing his eyes some. “For someone older, and supposedly more mature, that’s a pretty childish ultimatum.” He bit out, leaning back into his seat. “Besides. You’d die. If it came down to it, I wouldn’t hesitate. My sister means more to me than whatever you think to know.” He continued, his tone growing dangerously serious. “She’s all I have left. All the humanity I have left.”

Foot in mouth, really. All the humanity he had left, when he had none and even hefted it onto her shoulders to help him take his vengeance. But now he knew better. It didn’t change what had happened, but it would change what came to be. He could be different. It would take time, and effort, and a sense of thinking outside of just himself like some selfish piece of garbage. His self-entitled tyranny should have never extended to Sophie, but he’d been young. He’d always be young, but the mind would age. He’d learn. He’d never stop learning. And that’s all it took to change. Learn and apply.

Starting here.

“So no. I won’t fight you. I won’t put her through that mess. You’ll just have to deal with it.” He continued. “I’m not perfect. I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I’m quite literally a monster, and I have been since the day this happened to the both of us.” He gestured with his hand. “Tragic, woe is me, story all included. Our parents are likely dead. We were created to be ‘liberation tools’; objects used in warfare to subjugate opposition, by any means necessary, to secure locations holding POW’s.” He explained, sighing.

“I don’t know your story. But I know mine. And I know that I died. I vaguely remember the sensation of fading, and of reeling at the loss of my sister before I went. And then I remember waking up, not the same. I remember, vividly, the tests. The torment. The shit I went through. That puts a chip on your shoulder. Sophie, somehow, dealt with it better than I did. So I don’t want you criticizing me for my hatred of people. Anyone. I struggle with it daily, internally, knowing that not everyone is guilty. But like it’s like an open wound that doesn’t heal.”

A sudden slap of his palm on the table set the tone of his current mood.

“But I also don’t care to sit here and listen to your prophetic self-proclaimed ‘Holier than thou’ tirade. You did good, and I’m thankful that you instilled some proper direction in her. Guidance, something I’m not good at. I’m trying to be better. I need to put faith somewhere, anywhere but vengeance. So I chose her.” He explained. “The way she’s spoken about you. She likes you. Looks up to you. I won’t take that away from her. But I won’t have you taking her away from me, either.”

Hopefully the waitress didn’t intend on arriving anytime soon, as he stood up.

“Because if you try. If you try to take her from me. Cut her from my life entirely.” He forewarned, suddenly leaning in and over the table. “I’ll regret it. But I will break you. Every inch of you. I will shatter you like fine glass and scatter your jagged shards into the wind. And I wouldn't blink an eye.”

Suddenly his smile resurfaced. “But it won’t come to that, right? I’d rather just put all this behind us. You see, in the grand scheme of things…” He gestured, both hands out to his sides and palms upward. “You’re actually the antagonist. The irony, right?” He began to fidget with the buttons on his vest at this point. “I’m making strides to change, for her sake, after all.”

Silence initially. He studied her, albeit briefly, following his passion-fueled outburst. Every word, though, he’d meant. If it had cut her down, piece by piece, so be it. She threatened him. How? She acted to be a wall betwixt he and his sister; the one individual he held a connection to in this unforgiving world. The only tie he had; both family and to his past, whatever little joyful past he could vaguely, and hazily, remember. She threatened to undo all of that. Unravel it entirely. She came across easily possessive; unwilling to coexist with him, even with him willing to do so.

But the silence was, again, brief; respite even shorter. Instead he found himself met with a flying chair; unexpected as it careened in his direction. Human reaction, even at peak, would resulted in futility. But Alex existed beyond humanity. Processors did as they were designed to do. His optics flashed, a myriad of symbols and numbers flickering at speeds unreadable to the human eye. Directives and measures were instantaneously executed at quantum speeds.

The results would dismay Aiya.

A single hand rose to clench at the chair, the force at which it had been thrown versus the collection point in his hand leaving the steel to groan and grumble with the majority of it warping at the sudden halt of progress. In that instant he felt his temper begin to ease out of his immediate control as his free arm, and hand, rose to collect another portion of the chair; both folding the metal as if it were a linen sheet into numerous bends and folds until it resembled nothing but a lump of steel. His eyes flashed once more, for a single time, marking her as a threat.

“I don’t have to.” He coldly remarked, winding back his arm and suddenly launching the unrecognizable lump of steel back her way; intentionally set to miss her by inches. Instead, the mass was left to punch through a series of distant trees before fading into obscurity, although a resounding THOOM could be heard in the distance; steel upon thick, stout, concrete. “You’ll lose her yourself if you keep up your stupid fucking antics.” He continued, daring to levitate inches off of the ground.

Unshaken, and bold, he carried on behind her only to cut her off in a momentary blur, distancing himself but surely acting as an obstacle in front of her.

“You have the audacity to repeat the same thing I’ve said to you.” He bellowed, holding up an accusatory finger. “I’m willing to coexist. You’re the one who’s making this difficult.” He continued, a sudden luminous glow flickering to life at the nexus of his index finger. “And furthermore you bring violence my way, and just expect to walk away?” He suddenly murmured, his voice lowered and threatening.

Sure, just a chair. And she just so happened to be a female; they don’t care to play nice. At least not that he’d ever recollected. His prior life memories were hazy, but even those coupled with the knowledge he had now pointed that women, no matter the kind, held a volatility to them. Still, that didn’t excuse her. Petty, sure. But he’d been built to battle. More than that. He’d been built to finish. And like any situation that could have stood before him, and all the situations of the past, he could very well finish this one too. With regrets. But he would not, for a second, play this charade of back and forth with this shrew. His words held a venomous sting to them, but he’d been willing to let their hateful discontent with one another rest for Sophie’s sake. For the sake of coexistence. Why could she just not try to find some sense of harmony?

“You really want to do this, don’t you? You’re really that dull-minded…” He questioned, before simply assuming her stupidity. “The arena, you said? Tomorrow. So be it. I really, really, don’t care for this. I really don’t. But you’re stubborn. And so unwilling to let go of this, despite someone truly making an effort to change.” He explained, the glow on his fingertip fading. “You won't relent. You won't even try. You're selfish.” He suddenly lamented, allowing his arm to fall to his side.

“I only hope Sophie will forgive me.” He murmured, only to lock his eyes directly onto hers, his visage bled dry of emotion; the face of a machine. “For what’s about to happen to you.”

"Big words; keep up the facade. It'll only sting more when you fail..." He murmured, gesturing with an arm to let her pass. Antagonizing her could not be a more stupid thing to do, but she'd upset him. As she always managed to do. Something about her just seemed to scream insecure, or something similar. He couldn't understand why she'd simply target him for no other reason. Sure, his past slapped a massive caution label on him, but he'd made honest strides in rehabilitating and changing.

Did that truly make him any less of a monster for all the innocents whose lives he'd claimed? Certainly not. He'd always have to carry that baggage around with him. Always have to cast a glance over his shoulder to be sure none were tailing him; no authorities were there to apprehend him. And yet with all of that paranoia, not a single thing had come of it all; as if his potential record had been scrubbed clean. By who? He couldn't be sure. Perhaps the insidious individuals behind his creation? Likely, but he'd never truly contemplated on it all that much.

As he let her pass, and she began to put distance between the two of them; some compassionate side of him did stir to reach out.

"Aya..." He began, suddenly; his voice somewhat more gentle. "Try to rethink all of this. I really don't want to do this. I'm sure Sophie wouldn't either..." He murmured. Sure, she'd see some novelty in the fighting; think it's flashy, but he truly believed she wouldn't inherently enjoy her brother fighting her best friend, if not more a sister-figure than anything.

What would his parents think? Quite the idealistic, self-righteous, stance she'd taken, but she did hold the ball at this point. No amount of technological jumble could sort through any myriad of logical information for an answer to this burning question.

But he had an answer.

"They'd be ashamed. Mortified, even. They'd wish upon me any and all punishment necessary." He explained. "And I wouldn't blame them." He offered with a shrug. "But as a parent..." He began, somewhat unsure of himself. "I'd think they'd still love me, and hopefully understand my pain; the pain I feel for myself, and for my sister. And I'd hope they'd understand that my wrongdoings, though inexcusable, were done out of passion at what I, and Sophie, have potentially lost. Our humanity. Our ways of life." He finished. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand any of that, though I hope you'd take time to reflect on it." He offered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"It's selfish to say I've done what I have for myself and Sophie. It's all been for me. Every life, every building, street; you name it. I was, and will likely always be, hopelessly angry at what they've done to me, and to Sophie. She's young, but she can think for herself; but while it's not to her benefit with what I've done; I'm just as capable of feeling that hopeless anger for her, too." He murmured.

"In the end, I think my parents would probably be wary of her keeping in my company; but only in the tides of my wrongdoings. As I am now? What I'm trying to be? The strides I've made to correct my mistakes, though they can't entirely be erased?" He paused. "I couldn't say. I'd like to think I could be given a second chance. I want to be better, and I can be better, for her sake."

Casting a glance her way. "And as for you? They'd be gracious for your inclusion in her life. For taking care of her in my absence, and being a guardian where I couldn't be. I really can't speak for them, but I think they'd like you. And I think they'd like us to work together, rather than contend and oppose one another. But, really...what do I know?"

His feet carried him away as he finished. "I'm just a faulty, psychopathic, android...and you're human."

He paused. He listened. He took to heart every thing she'd said, if he could even consider it like that. He'd found it plainly obvious how prim and prissy she'd been, in some aspects. The goody-two shoes sort. She had her faults, but he could see she meant well; did the best she could. But to spout off to him like a parent, Gods it made him sick.

"Yeah, yeah. Self loathing. Pity..." He droned on in return. "While you have a point, rather than contest my point, I just wish someone could understand and try to relate, instead." He replied, offering a mild smile despite what he'd said. It finally came to the point he felt a pang of honesty overcome him and he forced himself to admit something. "I guess I'm just afraid of what to do and where to go from here." He murmured. "What do you do when your way of life is changed for you without your permission?" He questioned, although it seemed rhetorical as he waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind. I'll figure it out."

He couldn't help but casually press his forefinger to her forehead if only to push her back away from him, back down upon her heels, with a gentle nudge. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it..." He suddenly lamented. "Let's go be proper, responsible, adults and take accountability and all that nonsense..." He returned, his smile lightening though. Progress. If even just a little bit. He could tolerate the firecracker attitude and the barks of authority. Laughable, but perhaps just a bit cute in some fashion. It didn't matter, really. What mattered, truly, happened to be this opportunity. And he wouldn't mess it up. "Still. You threw it first..." He teased, an eye falling shut as he stuck out his tongue.

Before she could rightly bite off anything in response, though, he sauntered on toward the shop front, meandering around her as she spun to fling out her final threat. "Less of that, more of getting this done." He replied, opening the door only to wait for her so she could pass through first. He could still be a gentleman, despite being inhuman.