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Post by The Green Flame on May 21, 2024 5:28:42 GMT
There was a certain nostalgia to be had viewing the City’s skyline away from the trash heap of evicted bots and other supposedly (artificially) intelligent has-beens. It was pristine, the lights actually turned on and off when they were supposed to, the doors never jammed and, hell, you could probably see the sky if you tried hard enough (or found the right rooftop without taller building blocking the view). If any of those eggheads from Futuro were around they’d probably get all poetic and starry-eyed about the imminent golden age, man and machine hand-in-hand bringing peace and prosperity to all. Personally speaking, that last part would’ve had Vile retching were he flesh and blood but that was neither here nor there. More relevant was that, after a couple centuries of confinement, a boring lecture on why lending his prowess to an incompetent personality-core would be lucrative for him and another lecture on why he should stay out of trouble, he still found himself in a position to do just that. He certainly heard the sphere loud and clear but, given he was overlooking the City itself and not keeping to the slums they cowered in, the AI’s words were in one audio-receptor and out the other. And how could they not? It was one thing to have the gaps plugged in via a databank but another to see it himself. Last time he saw Haven, half of it was a smoldering crater and the other half they were still struggling to put the fires out. Probably one of the lucky few to remember Haven in its prime, torn apart by Sigma’s rebellion and falling apart at the seams. “Good times,” the reploid chuckled dryly at the memory. The organics milling about the place didn’t know what they were missing out on. Although he could give them a healthy reminder, a live-fire exercise was a great way to run through his paces… But, as tempting as it was to start blasting away the moment he hit topside, one of the conditions of his probation was to not cause trouble and the sentient data ball didn’t seem the bluffing type. No, if any trouble came his way, it was because someone left their brain at home and he simply responded appropriately. Why, just to prove he hadn’t the slightest bit of ill will, he had made it a priority of his to keep to the rooftops, out of sight and out of mind of those so prejudiced they would accost him. Then, everybody got to go home with a pat on the back for following the rules and do whatever the hell that personality core called a good time. “Don't take too long to notice me, I'd hate to get bored out here…”
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Post by BijuuGuy on Jun 29, 2024 20:37:15 GMT
The illustrious mayor of the City had a set routine. A fairly standard one, despite what her empire's denizens may believe. A shower, breakfast, coffee. Even with her suit providing her with almost everything she needed, Tilda still chose to maintain some of the simple pleasures. Her home was typically filled with silence. A method to get her thoughts in order, look over her plans for the day. She could not afford distractions. What she had built required a steady, detailed hand. Following the completion of her rituals, Tilda sat down at her ornate wooden desk in her study. Immediately as she sat, her relevant home devices chimed and screens appeared above the desk. They showed her schedule, the schedules of her subordinates, news, weather report, etc. All was instantly fed to her through the bots in her suit. Yet still she chose to parse through the more pertinent information herself. Another quaint human pleasure. This morning, however, brought to her attention a curiosum. Though perhaps that was putting it too drastically. Tilda had been privy to Vile and his release for some time. She had chosen to not act on it just yet. Mainly out of curiosity to see what he would do. Her knowledge of him was sporadic. She knew of him and his development during Haven's time. Yet that was quickly overshadowed by Sigma and his danger. So, to her disappointment, Vile was still an enigma of sorts. But nothing Tilda couldn't handle. With Vile out in the open, C-Sec was on high alert almost instantly. He was a registered high-level threat and was to be dealt with accordingly. That is, unless the mayor had something to say about it. Tilda rose from her chair, her devices providing another chime before turning off and all information was now redirected to her suit. With a determined pace, she head towards her living room. Large doors heading to her sizable balcony opened automatically, giving the mayor a stunning panoramic view over half of the City. Instead of admiring the splendor, she had a call directed towards C-Sec. More specifically, Edgar Ross. "Edgar. Call your units back. I'll handle this."
From the other side of the call, a begrudging noise of acknowledgement was provided as an answer. Tilda bore it no mind. The ire of her employees was seldom within reason. But they knew her place. They knew what would happen otherwise.
In an effortless boost from the balcony, Tilda took flight. It was more of an elegant glide, yet few actually knew the difference. Her suit glistened in the sunlight, providing her people a dazzling view of their benevolent ruler.
Reaching Vile's location was a simple task. Her going to him in person was more about a statement than going for an actual reason. As long as he didn't cause an immediate calamity, he could be reasoned with. And she did it better than the one who procured his relative freedom. To further amplify her statement, she had brought along a few examples of a new frontier in security that she had been developing for a time.
 The Specters were the latest invention in Tilda's impressive arsenal. Comprised of the Ochroid, Tilda's nanobots, the Specters were equipped to handle almost any threat. Their nigh-indestructible nature aside, they possessed morphing capabilities, able to transform their white plates into potent weaponry. Whatever was needed to accomplish a given task, the Specters had it covered. Should those plates be detached somehow, Tilda built in a gravitational function, ensuring that those plates would rejoin the unit at a moment's notice. While still not officially in production, they were meant to provide additional support to C-Sec and would become fixtures in the City, making the law enforcement's job that much easier. Seamless and quick data gathering, relaying it to C-Sec and providing possible options to handle any given situation, the Specters were meant to be the next stage in public safety.
In the case of Vile, however, they were statement pieces. Or rather, ones that would add to Tilda's already notorious reputation.
Reaching his location, Tilda remained in the air, while five Specter units scattered around their immediate area. They moved with fluidity and precision. To some, they could resemble bugs of some sort.
Tilda took a good look at Vile. He had been waiting for some time, it seemed. Purposefully as well. She had no intentions of starting a fight, but remained mildly cautious of the fact that Vile could be unpredictable.
"Enjoying your newfound freedom, Vile? I hope you've put away any notions of starting something that will end in your dismantling." |
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