thisavrou | [video] Hell hath no fury like an AI scorned (backdated to 4/30)

[ Tex is angry. Normally she'd send out a text blast, but this is an unusual circumstance, one that leads to her choosing to actually use the video feature on the MID. ]

I guess we've all gotten pretty used to taking matters into our own hands here. And why not? Even if you kill someone, all they're going to do is slap you on the wrist, right? So fine, indescriminate murder is obviously going to be a thing here. Fucking go for it. Life's cheap here.

But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to talk about what just happened to Rinzler. People obviously think it's up for debate whether he's sentient or has rights of his own. That's what I saw at his trial. People bringing up the idea of recoding him to solve the problem of the way he acts or the way he thinks. Lucky him for having his creator here, right? We can just reprogram him and make everything better.

Let me tell you something: that's bullshit. You might not like him, you might even think he's dangerous, but he's his own, not yours. And Alan Bradley had no fucking right to go messing around in his coding. Do you hear me, Alan Bradley? You have me to answer to for what you've done.

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[There's a brief lull in the texts as Sans chews that over. If ever there was a time to choose his words carefully, it's now.]

i don't have a monopoly on right and wrong. [Another pause.] but i know what's easy and what's hard.

i'm going to ask you a question, and you can give me an honest answer if you feel like it.

do you think even the worst person can change? that anyone can be a good person if they just try?

I'm not going to lie to you.

[That text comes swift, an automatic response. After everything, Sans has earned the same code that Peter operates under with Wanda. Billy, River, the family. For all his faults, he never wants to lie to family. He's bent that rule enough here, with omission and misdirection. He wants to correct it, try harder.

No more lies.

Which is why it takes him a full minute, an extraordinary amount of time for him, to answer. He needs that time to think, do some soul searching. He comes up short.]

I want to think they could. But sometimes things happen than make me think that it doesn't matter what I want. There are some bad things you just can't get rid of and some people will just keep doing the same things. I don't know if I believe it or not.

[There's a certain numbness in discussing these sorts of topics. A detachment that Sans clings to; useful in more ways than one. Chiefly though, it keeps him from the feeling of someone reaching a stick inside his ribcage and waving it around. No pangs of loss, no pangs of familiarity, nothing.

Useful.

But growing accustomed to apathy makes it that much more painful when your failsafe, well, fails. Sans stares at the words for ten minutes. The only thing keeping him from imagining he, himself, wrote them is the font.]

yeah. me neither.

Edited 2016-05-04 04:32 (UTC)

[The next pause goes on for eight minutes exactly, a '...' speech bubble the only thing letting Peter know Sans is still there and still typing.

But when Sans finally presses send, it's a single sentence instead of a speech.]

feels good to believe in something though, right?

[He's torn between disappointment and being relieved that Sans can admit he doesn't know either. On one hand, he sort of wishes someone else could just have all the answers for him. On the other, if he has to feel confused at life's big questions then at least he's in good company.

The time it takes for the next part of Sans's reply feels like it takes forever. Enough time that he's actually gotten up to run some laps to work out his nervous energy while he waits. He might be lead to think Sans had fallen asleep on his MID or otherwise forgotten about him, if Peter didn't have a nagging sense that the skeleton actually treated their conversations as something important.]

The alternative feels pretty bleak, so yeah. Kind of all we got.

something like that.

[Another pause, though markedly less short.]

I'm not big on making promises, so I don't like asking people for 'em. But let's call this a request. You up for that?

A request to believe?

a request to assume the best you can of people.

i know it ain't easy. you give someone room to surprise you, they can use it to hurt you. bad. but some things are worth holding onto, even if it's hard.

right and wrong isn't quite as clear cut as we all wish it'd be.

I can't promise I will.

[It's important to get that out there first. He'd said he wouldn't lie.

He can't be like the child that visited him in the hold. He can't just believe everything can be worked out with talking and kindness.]

But I can keep it in mind. Try.

wouldn't ask you to.

thanks, kid.

[A 'you're welcome' seems stupid in the context of the conversation, but Peter feels like the conversation remain's unbalanced. Something remains to be said. Maybe he should be thanking him. He's still angry but not as much as he was. Not as violently.

He types a few responses but erases them, finally sighing and just pulling up a game instead.]

[video] Hell hath no fury like an AI scorned (backdated to 4/30)

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not here?