(no subject)

[tragic_mask]

Arriving at the Visitor's Center, Melpomene takes a look around.

"Well, this is it. In all its touristic glory. "

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

"I've lived in slum neighborhoods," he says. "Not often, but... a few times. It's overwhelming."

[tragic_mask]

"Why'd you do that?" she asks, softly.

[mechanicalswans]

"To try to blend in," he says, "to be ordinary for a while. It never really works."

[tragic_mask]

"No?" she says, looking up at him, a little amused.

[mechanicalswans]

"No," he says. "You can live among the people, but never really be of them. There's always a separation."

[tragic_mask]

"You're right. But then, we should know that, of all people."

[mechanicalswans]

"Still, there is some novelty. Immersing yourself in a settlement, trying to care about their problems. Limiting yourself, for a change."

[tragic_mask]

"Almost too easy, I think."

She shrugs, too-casual. "That's why I need an on-off switch. Can you make me one of those?"

[mechanicalswans]

"Probably," he says. "We'd just need to work out the specifics of it, but it could be done, I'm sure."

[tragic_mask]

"It might be a little scary. I'd be like a... a robot, in many ways."

[mechanicalswans]

"I would not find that unappealing," he says with a light shrug.

[tragic_mask]

She shoots him a look.

"That's what real robots are for."

[mechanicalswans]

"I think I would enjoy your presence in any way it would be possible for you to be," he says. "Robot or no."

[tragic_mask]

"But," she says, preparing to wax philosophical, "The two are different. If I were robotic, that would take away my soul, take away anything about me that made me... me. So what would there be left to enjoy?"

She ambles a few feet before adding, "If it's my presence specifically you're wanting to enjoy, that is."

[mechanicalswans]

"Do robots not have souls?" he asks, thoughtful, and takes a drag on his cigarette.

"Naturally I prefer you as you are. But I would not refuse to be around you if you were robotic."

[tragic_mask]

"I think I'd get sick of myself, after a while. And... I don't think they do. I suppose you'd know better than I do."

[mechanicalswans]

"Would you get sick of yourself, if you were a robot?" he asks. "Or would you not know the difference between that, and your normal self? Self-awareness is a very strange area."

[tragic_mask]

"True," she says.

"I'd probably fade into nothingness, which is why I, as I am right now, would get sick of me, if I could recognize myself.

It all grows very tangled."

[mechanicalswans]

"You could put something else on," he says softly. "Create a new self, to be placed over you instead of the nothingness. Write your own story."

[tragic_mask]

"I tried that," she says, a little unhappily. "But what story would I tell, if I weren't there to inspire it? So circular."

[mechanicalswans]

"Write the background," he says. "Who this new version of you is, where she comes from, what she has been through to get where she is now. And then let her go, and see how she faces the world."

[tragic_mask]

She thinks about it.

"I think I could manage that. If there was always the real me to come back to."

[mechanicalswans]

"There would be," he nods. "And it's just one option. If you want to take it."

[tragic_mask]

"I'll remember you said so."

She continues to walk.

[mechanicalswans]

"We can do anything you like. If any part of it makes you uncomfortable, we can change it to your liking. The beauty of being a crafter."