thisavrou | A Very Short SOS: text; 5/22

Accurate.

[The line is snapped back, angry, but this instruction, Rinzler doesn't waste any time acting on. Of course, given they're still on the planet? That might take a while.]

Do you need help getting him there? I'd help, but I'm in medical. I'll see if I can get someone...

Faster than them.

[There's exactly one person on the ship Rinzler will admit to being slower than, and he certainly wouldn't trust that glitch to help.]

You are? Good. Can you lift Washington in that suit?

[If this weren't text and weren't urgent, Luke would be getting the most are-you-stupid look. And probably some rude noise-skips.]

Yes.

Then get him to medical. Tell me-- or the people who work in medical-- if you need any more help? You're doing very well, Rinzler; I'm sure Washington appreciates it.

[Honest or not, Rinzler's furious enough with his own helplessness that the praise only reads as placating right now. With just a slight (familiar) edge of condescension. Someday Rinzler's gonna stab you over that, Luke. But today? He has other priorities.

There's no answer this time, though it won't take long to reach the medbay.]

[Luke waits nervously, and his patience is rewarded with Rinzler's arrival. Somehow, his frame-- less than sturdy, as far as Luke can tell-- can support Washington. The medical staff hover around them both, doing their best to get Washington's condition stable, and Luke dutifully watches, quiet for once.]

[When the dust seems to have settled, Luke walks slowly, slowly over. His ribs are more healed than they were, but they're still sensitive and delicate. He takes his time, cringing slightly.]

[Luke isn't quite sure what Rinzler is, but he knows he's not a medical droid. He feels it's worthwhile to praise him for rising to the occasion.] You did very well, Rinzler. You might have saved Washington's life.

[Said while looking Washington over, gently gripping his chest with the arm that doesn't end abruptly in a stump.]

[ His "stable" condition is mildly better than the state he'd been in prior to being brought into the medical bay. He's still more non-responsive than anything to the contrary, taking little to no notice of where he's been dragged to now, but he's quietened some. And at least here there are people with a better idea of what to do should he slip back into a much worse state.

Laid out in one of the many beds in the area, Wash looks a little less hopeless since it's harder to tell just how limp his body has gone compared to when he's sitting, or worse, being dragged through the halls by Rinzler as nothing but a dead weight. His eyes are closed now too, so he looks more like he could simply be sleeping, though his body gives the occasional twitch or he murmurs under his breath some more, indicating that this is not really the case. ]

Alpha... Help... [ A short, shuddering breath. ] Can't take it. Can't...

[ And then he's quiet again but for the sound of his breathing. ]

[While Rinzler retreated (or was shooed back) relatively early in the medical proceedings, he didn't travel far. And since Wash was pronounced stable, he'd closed that gap again. Scans are fixed on the still form, analyzing every minute shift of signature. He doubts he'll find anything of use... at least not from that source. But Alpha is a familiar name. Just like Allison.

The enforcer may have some questions to go ask.

Luke's approach doesn't go unnoticed, of course, but it's not until the user speaks that he spares a glance sideways. The stare is contemptuous; the rise of his constant mechanical rattling not dissimilar from a low snarl. He doesn't need your pity, user. Rinzler knows when he failed, and the proof is lying on a bed in front of them.]

[Luke stares at Washington with obvious worry.]

When did this start, Rinzler?

[ Really, the whole thing had started before he found himself on the Moira. He's just slowly been growing more and more unstable with time--this was bound to happen at some point, ultimately. It's just that Rinzler had been unlucky enough to be there when something wrong with the Ingress, which had affected they're whole visit to Wash's universe, wound up being the trigger to the inevitable break. The glitch. No, it's more than a glitch, it's a malfunction.

Wash may have stopped his muttering for the time being, but he doesn't stir at the sound of Rinzler's increasingly louder rattling, nor at the sound of Luke's voice. There's nothing going on outside that makes it through, the inside of his head already too full, too loud. He can't even handle that, given the way he's shut down, so how could he manage even more? ]

[The glare doesn't budge. Still, if Rinzler has serious doubts about this user's capability to be of any help at all, it's not as if that data is particularly secret. After a few seconds, the program reaches for his MID.]

Ingress entry.

[Luke, for once, doesn't make noises about fixing Rinzler's vocator. He just nods, serious.]

I talked to him once before about trying to help him... I'm still not sure I could do it. Do you know him very well, Rinzler?

[The enforcer's mask twitches back to the prone body, stare lingering for a moment before Rinzler's shoulders twitch inwards in a shrug.

Yes. He'd thought so. But Rinzler hadn't thought Wash would crash like this, either, so clearly he hadn't known enough.]

[Luke's expression only falls a little flat.] Have you spoken to him before this happened?

[On the bright side, Rinzler's looking at Luke again. On the other side? Glower's back.

The mask dips in a nod. Yes, user. He's met Wash.]

[To be fair, Luke can't really tell when Rinzler's glowering.] But you've never seen behavior like this before? I've only met him once before this; I'm not sure how deep this runs.

[There's a beat of hesitation, then the program's head shakes. Wash had problems. Rinzler even knew some of the reasons for the bugs. But nothing like this.]

Didn't glitch.

Didn't glitch.

[Talking to Rinzler is sometimes like a constantly evolving riddle. Luke takes a moment to consider that. Didn't glitch. Droid programing glitches... they were talking about the past- Luke's eyes light up.] You mean- he didn't act like this the last few times you spoke?

[Long, dubious stare... followed by a nod. He just said that. Twice.

For a user in charge of technology, Rinzler isn't very impressed by this one's comprehension.]

[To be fair, Luke is used to technology with better manners.]

I mentioned a technique that might help him, but I'm not... I'm not well versed enough. I don't want to make it worse. [Luke stares, absent-minded, trying to figure if discretion or bravery is the better course, here.]

[The program stares back. He'd tracked the network exchanges before. He has some idea of this user's capability. But vague musings are less than useless. The helmet angles to the side: clarify, data-request, but if Luke doesn't answer quickly, he moves on to text without much lag.]

Memory edit?

Summarize risks.

[Luke looks over to Rinzler, thinking.] That's the thing, I don't know all the risks. I haven't mastered the technique, I don't know all the angles. It could leave permanent damage... or make it worse, or make him forget the wrong thing... it's too great a risk.

[Luke has already decided.]

[The harsh rattling of the enforcer's sound skips, harsh and irritated. Rinzler is the last person to argue in favor of memory removal, particularly when the editor in question judges the benefit not worth the risk. But it's infuriating to have the possibility of help floated, then dismissed out of hand. All the more so for his own inability to be of use.]

What can you do?

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t65 - 2016-06-02 19:05 (UTC) - Expand

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notglitching - 2016-06-03 12:51 (UTC) - Expand