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(naruto) android Sasuke universe -- ficlet
-Hasn't been betaed, so the grammar and flow suck,
-I don't like how limited my "cop" and "robot/computer" vocabularies are. Need more words, moooooore.
reminder: Sasuke's ID is UG-7-SA = Uchiha Genin n°7. Uchiha = the type of android, Genin: the latest "normal cops" batch/series, and I said SA was stealth and assassination for his two specialties, but I've changed my mind. XD Now they're just random letters. Or else I would have to figure out why he's not with the Special Ops, and what IT means. (intelligence and tactics? but he IS Special Ops. Doesn't fit. gah, whatever.)
Sometimes it seems that Uchiha models are a dime a dozen. When Sasuke walks through the other detachments' hangars to save time, instead of circling them, he sees hundreds and hundreds of them.
They all have dark eyes; that's the only thing they all have in common. Even then, most of these are dark brown; Sasuke's are a dark blue-grey that's not very natural-looking, when one is close enough to scrutinize that deeply, but not a lot of civilians get to find that out.
Most of them have black hair. The country is full of people of Asian descent; there are still blonds and a handful of redheads around. Most of them are fit -- it's difficult to chase down criminals when your body type mimics that of an obese person; it's even more difficult to keep the perps down without injuring them if you weigh half their weight.
Of course he's been oriented to a Major Crimes unit; most of the time he has full permission to use lethal force. But not all of the other AIs develop the way he is developing, even though they all start from the same point. After all, AIs, like sentient people, grow into a personality; they're not born -- made -- fully formed. Though they can be directed; the acute sense of justice isn't an option. The only difference is the shape it takes. Sasuke doesn't like using lethal force -- if he did, he would either be sold to the military or directed to the Secret Services, or terminated -- but he doesn't let it make him hesitate, and this is why he gets to chase down murderers.
Not all of them look young; though very few look older than forty -- it would be hard to hide the total lack of aching and weakening. Sasuke is in the lower age bracket -- he seems barely legal; maybe twenty with certain expressions and clothes. He is eight year old.
Vice has the highest proportion of pretty blonde girls and grizzled older men. The ones in charge of circulation and public disturbances look more conservative, lower breasts-waist-hips ratio, less false scars and shorter hair. The Special Victims squads look older, more motherly, to soothe and reassure victims of sexual offences; there aren't a lot of male bodies in that hangar.
He walks through the barracks, such as they are, glancing at the other Uchihas, as they recharge in their see-through beds -- the techs joke about them looking more like coffins -- as they surf the net to perfect their knowledge on any number of subjects, or just interact.
They're all so different, he thinks, and is vaguely puzzled that the technicians think this is only skin deep. Only cosmetic. Underneath the syntheskin, they all have the same wires and gyros and weird mechanisms, the same processors. But humans are all made of the same kinds of cells, too.
Unique... what was it again? Snowflakes? He can see the similarities in concepts, but he's still too new to true intelligence to understand the leap of logic that created that comparison. It's fitting enough, though.
The Special Ops hangar is a little out of the way, and these Uchihas -- ANBU models, elite and well-aware of it -- aren't the most welcoming of the bunch, but even though he doesn't have clearance to exchange anything but banalities with them, they're not allowed to discuss classified cases when they're back at the compound for downtime. And nothing around here is really private. So when he really has to, he doesn't hesitate to cut through their barracks either.
He doesn't do it often, though, and maybe this is why coming face to face with his mirror image makes his central unit ... stammer, as it were.
The other Sasuke has... lines, in diagonal under his eyes. And his hair is long, and maybe more reddish; it's hard to say, with that light. Apart from that, he is identical. If there weren't the scars, Sasuke would only have to turn on his Sharingan and they would look like carbon copies.
Sasuke didn't know that they reused physical specs. Maybe someone in the Design division made a mistake.
The other Sasuke is training, throwing knives in the air and then throwing more knives at them to alter their trajectories. Sasuke tries to follow the calculations. He has never seen anything like that, and while it isn't anything he really would need, it's still...
... Neat. It's neat. He has been told to accept emotional responses, so long as they respect logic. This is an original use of knives, and requires some very quick and extremely precise calculations. It deserves some admiration.
The other Sasuke stills, and turns to face him, silent. He wonders where the guilt comes from; it isn't as if he had been hiding his presence.
"Is this an original skill?" he asks; he feels like he should say something. It's weird that they look so identical, and yet he cannot make predictions about the other's line of thought.
The silence stretches. Sasuke wonders if this model has ever had much socializing. Sasuke isn't big on politeness usually, but right now he's keenly aware that structuring interaction really helps to get it going.
"It is."
"It's... interesting."
"Unnecessarily convoluted."
"It gets your calculating speed up, at least." He hesitates; but they're encouraged to share information and tips, aren't they. "I would appreciate learning to do that."
The other stares, expressionless, and then he allows a smirk on his face. This isn't a Sasuke smirk; he doesn't know how to interpret it. Though it's still social interaction that doesn't rely on raw data exchange. He wasn't sure the other knew how.
"... You are UG-7-SA."
Sasuke blinks. "How did you -- you have clearance for the databases. Or did you see me around before?"
The other picks up his knives, pulling them free from the targets effortlessly. "I haven't seen you before."
Sasuke frowns. He cannot believe that any AI with high enough clearance to access the Uchiha listings at anytime would score that low in socialization, which means the other actually means to be that cryptic. It's annoying. "Who are you?"
"UANBU-13-IT."
Well, now he has an ID. "What do you prefer to be called?"
"You're late."
Sasuke blinks again.
"You come through here because it's shorter. You took that into account. You've now lost nine minutes and thirty-two seconds watching me. You are late."
"Oh, crap." Sasuke starts moving to leave; the other lifts his hand and crooks his finger in a gesture that he doesn't interpret right away; and then he remembers. 'Come closer.' He's going to be so very late. He obeys anyway. The other fascinates him, more than someone just merely sharing his aesthetical specs should.
ANBU models move faster than GENIN models, of course; this still doesn't help him feel less annoyed when the other Uchiha's fingers tap his forehead, before he even sees him move.
"You are not at my level." For Sasuke, what he means is, 'you're of inferior quality.'
"I will be," Sasuke snaps back, glaring. "There's more to us than what we've been made with." Sentient beings are more than the sum of their parts; his human captain told him that, and he believes him. If he's inherently slower, well, he'll learn to think faster, to anticipate. He'll compensate. So what if that 13-IT guy has bigger guns -- it isn't the only thing that makes one a competent cop.
The other smiles again, a small, thin twist of the lips that he doesn't seem to have practiced much.
"Maybe I will teach you another day. Sasuke."
He sidesteps him, nudges Sasuke so that he's forced to take a step forward. Sasuke keeps moving, toward the exit, too-new, too-bright emotions churning inside him. He's still curious. He's still admiring his abilities. But the annoyance at his shows of superiority isn't leaving anytime soon.
Sasuke is almost out of the hangar when the other drops casually, "my name is Itachi."
*returns to her Firefly episodes*
-I don't like how limited my "cop" and "robot/computer" vocabularies are. Need more words, moooooore.
reminder: Sasuke's ID is UG-7-SA = Uchiha Genin n°7. Uchiha = the type of android, Genin: the latest "normal cops" batch/series, and I said SA was stealth and assassination for his two specialties, but I've changed my mind. XD Now they're just random letters. Or else I would have to figure out why he's not with the Special Ops, and what IT means. (intelligence and tactics? but he IS Special Ops. Doesn't fit. gah, whatever.)
Sometimes it seems that Uchiha models are a dime a dozen. When Sasuke walks through the other detachments' hangars to save time, instead of circling them, he sees hundreds and hundreds of them.
They all have dark eyes; that's the only thing they all have in common. Even then, most of these are dark brown; Sasuke's are a dark blue-grey that's not very natural-looking, when one is close enough to scrutinize that deeply, but not a lot of civilians get to find that out.
Most of them have black hair. The country is full of people of Asian descent; there are still blonds and a handful of redheads around. Most of them are fit -- it's difficult to chase down criminals when your body type mimics that of an obese person; it's even more difficult to keep the perps down without injuring them if you weigh half their weight.
Of course he's been oriented to a Major Crimes unit; most of the time he has full permission to use lethal force. But not all of the other AIs develop the way he is developing, even though they all start from the same point. After all, AIs, like sentient people, grow into a personality; they're not born -- made -- fully formed. Though they can be directed; the acute sense of justice isn't an option. The only difference is the shape it takes. Sasuke doesn't like using lethal force -- if he did, he would either be sold to the military or directed to the Secret Services, or terminated -- but he doesn't let it make him hesitate, and this is why he gets to chase down murderers.
Not all of them look young; though very few look older than forty -- it would be hard to hide the total lack of aching and weakening. Sasuke is in the lower age bracket -- he seems barely legal; maybe twenty with certain expressions and clothes. He is eight year old.
Vice has the highest proportion of pretty blonde girls and grizzled older men. The ones in charge of circulation and public disturbances look more conservative, lower breasts-waist-hips ratio, less false scars and shorter hair. The Special Victims squads look older, more motherly, to soothe and reassure victims of sexual offences; there aren't a lot of male bodies in that hangar.
He walks through the barracks, such as they are, glancing at the other Uchihas, as they recharge in their see-through beds -- the techs joke about them looking more like coffins -- as they surf the net to perfect their knowledge on any number of subjects, or just interact.
They're all so different, he thinks, and is vaguely puzzled that the technicians think this is only skin deep. Only cosmetic. Underneath the syntheskin, they all have the same wires and gyros and weird mechanisms, the same processors. But humans are all made of the same kinds of cells, too.
Unique... what was it again? Snowflakes? He can see the similarities in concepts, but he's still too new to true intelligence to understand the leap of logic that created that comparison. It's fitting enough, though.
The Special Ops hangar is a little out of the way, and these Uchihas -- ANBU models, elite and well-aware of it -- aren't the most welcoming of the bunch, but even though he doesn't have clearance to exchange anything but banalities with them, they're not allowed to discuss classified cases when they're back at the compound for downtime. And nothing around here is really private. So when he really has to, he doesn't hesitate to cut through their barracks either.
He doesn't do it often, though, and maybe this is why coming face to face with his mirror image makes his central unit ... stammer, as it were.
The other Sasuke has... lines, in diagonal under his eyes. And his hair is long, and maybe more reddish; it's hard to say, with that light. Apart from that, he is identical. If there weren't the scars, Sasuke would only have to turn on his Sharingan and they would look like carbon copies.
Sasuke didn't know that they reused physical specs. Maybe someone in the Design division made a mistake.
The other Sasuke is training, throwing knives in the air and then throwing more knives at them to alter their trajectories. Sasuke tries to follow the calculations. He has never seen anything like that, and while it isn't anything he really would need, it's still...
... Neat. It's neat. He has been told to accept emotional responses, so long as they respect logic. This is an original use of knives, and requires some very quick and extremely precise calculations. It deserves some admiration.
The other Sasuke stills, and turns to face him, silent. He wonders where the guilt comes from; it isn't as if he had been hiding his presence.
"Is this an original skill?" he asks; he feels like he should say something. It's weird that they look so identical, and yet he cannot make predictions about the other's line of thought.
The silence stretches. Sasuke wonders if this model has ever had much socializing. Sasuke isn't big on politeness usually, but right now he's keenly aware that structuring interaction really helps to get it going.
"It is."
"It's... interesting."
"Unnecessarily convoluted."
"It gets your calculating speed up, at least." He hesitates; but they're encouraged to share information and tips, aren't they. "I would appreciate learning to do that."
The other stares, expressionless, and then he allows a smirk on his face. This isn't a Sasuke smirk; he doesn't know how to interpret it. Though it's still social interaction that doesn't rely on raw data exchange. He wasn't sure the other knew how.
"... You are UG-7-SA."
Sasuke blinks. "How did you -- you have clearance for the databases. Or did you see me around before?"
The other picks up his knives, pulling them free from the targets effortlessly. "I haven't seen you before."
Sasuke frowns. He cannot believe that any AI with high enough clearance to access the Uchiha listings at anytime would score that low in socialization, which means the other actually means to be that cryptic. It's annoying. "Who are you?"
"UANBU-13-IT."
Well, now he has an ID. "What do you prefer to be called?"
"You're late."
Sasuke blinks again.
"You come through here because it's shorter. You took that into account. You've now lost nine minutes and thirty-two seconds watching me. You are late."
"Oh, crap." Sasuke starts moving to leave; the other lifts his hand and crooks his finger in a gesture that he doesn't interpret right away; and then he remembers. 'Come closer.' He's going to be so very late. He obeys anyway. The other fascinates him, more than someone just merely sharing his aesthetical specs should.
ANBU models move faster than GENIN models, of course; this still doesn't help him feel less annoyed when the other Uchiha's fingers tap his forehead, before he even sees him move.
"You are not at my level." For Sasuke, what he means is, 'you're of inferior quality.'
"I will be," Sasuke snaps back, glaring. "There's more to us than what we've been made with." Sentient beings are more than the sum of their parts; his human captain told him that, and he believes him. If he's inherently slower, well, he'll learn to think faster, to anticipate. He'll compensate. So what if that 13-IT guy has bigger guns -- it isn't the only thing that makes one a competent cop.
The other smiles again, a small, thin twist of the lips that he doesn't seem to have practiced much.
"Maybe I will teach you another day. Sasuke."
He sidesteps him, nudges Sasuke so that he's forced to take a step forward. Sasuke keeps moving, toward the exit, too-new, too-bright emotions churning inside him. He's still curious. He's still admiring his abilities. But the annoyance at his shows of superiority isn't leaving anytime soon.
Sasuke is almost out of the hangar when the other drops casually, "my name is Itachi."
*returns to her Firefly episodes*
O_o
I love your robo-Sasuke too much, the whole cyberpunk-esque detachment from his own life is too good. :D
Re: O_o
#^__________________^# hohohohoho.