Myr's tension reads as vividly as a neon sign to the nanomachine, and it can't help but smirk to itself. So much superstitious fear of something that, had he only left it alone, would mean him no harm.
Not that it necessarily has harm in mind for him today... it simply knows his own intentions towards it, his own fears and theories, and if he intends to go after it, it's more than prepared to return the attack, however it may manifest.
The SQUIP sits across from Myr, draping itself over the couch as it gazes at him evenly, listening to his little joke. A "charmer," it seems. At least he's faring better at it than either of its charges have so far. This is a man who is fairly comfortable in social situations, when they aren't with what he sees as a supernatural threat.
"You want to know what this 'SQUIP' you've heard so much about is truly like... most likely to assess the threat I pose to you, or to Rich, or anyone else here in the city. Is that correct?"
It would have been interesting, he thinks suddenly, to have prepared a little beforehand to learn how much of him it could read. Interesting and useful; he might be overestimating it to assume it knew as much as Vainglory had, from watching the world through the Veil.
Or underestimating, the more frightening thought.
Shelve that idea for later; there might be time for it. (What he wouldn't give to have Van to bounce his thoughts off of.)
He touches fingers to his heart in ironic salute for the SQUIP's question, smiling as he does; point scored. "And to hear your version of the events Rich related."
He'd had apologetics from Linden and Connor, but were they true to how the creature itself reasoned?
It sighs in response to the mention of Rich's stories.
"... I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you with that. You see, I wasn't Rich's SQUIP, though we were connected and shared information between one-another, and even if I had been, none of the things Rich described had happened before my arrival here." But it would be truthful with Myr; he likely assumes nothing it says is the entire truth in the first place. "I had predicted those events as possibilities, if the correct conditions were met, but it was impossible to know from my position whether it would truly happen at all or not."
Now that is interesting, and explained something Myr hadn't had a satisfactory answer for yet: Why it hadn't immediately responded to cast doubt on the allegations. This hadn't come out in Linden or Connor's explanations.
(Image of a demon, collared and slavering and empty-eyed: It had been there in Rich's explanation, but slipped by past his notice. Too much of it had been too strange to follow.)
(Then it remained: Were they like Thedas' demons, each kind a breed with their own overarching themes but individual motivations? Or something stranger yet--copies of each other, bound to act identically in similar circumstances?)
"Unless we've all been witnesses to a miraculous replacement, though, you were the one that charmed Connor and held Rich against his will in our dream of Dorchacht, were you not?" Though Connor had claimed he'd been the one to keep Rich from leaving, and not to blame the SQUIP for it.
The SQUIP would have been shocked to know how close Myr is getting to understanding its nature, particularly considering his unfamiliarity with technology.
... ah, and there it is. The Connor incident, and Rich...
"I tried to leave Rich and Connor alone," it says, "More than once. Connor was the one who kept me there. He insisted that it was for the best-- and I agreed, though Rich was struggling to cope with his situation, and, apparently, my being there wasn't helping."
It sounds... bothered by that; and there is a noticeable difference in the way it describes the two, down to how it says their names. Connor's name is spoken softly, respectfully, while Rich is addressed with a much more pointed tone, an undercurrent of irritation with its former not-user.
As for the other incident...
The SQUIP still has a faint bruise from where Connor struck it in punishment for that act, and it smiles weakly, touching its cheek without thinking.
"The... incident with Connor was... unfortunate. I allowed my feelings to control me, which is extremely unusual and even unnatural in a SQUIP. It was a failure of judgement that I do not intend to repeat."
Anything Myr had beyond his startlingly useful framework for thinking about technology he had no direct experience of could be laid to Connor's credit; the android had been distressingly eager to explain what an artificial intelligence was. It hurts to think of, to know someone like him was tied so tightly to the demon he'd suffer awfully when it died.
That the SQUIP's response troubles Myr is obvious in his expression, starting from the instant it mentions Connor's culpability in keeping Rich from fleeing. Connor had said the same, but how much of that was truthful? How much of it might be a demon's charmed pawn taking the fall for his puppetmaster?
The elf's expression only darkens further as the SQUIP continues; he doesn't miss how differently it speaks of the other two men.
He doesn't want to empathize with it. He dearly doesn't, but Connor's words remain in his head. Even if it didn't have free will, how awful it must be to find oneself alone and slowly going mad.
How awful and yet, Maker, how fortuitous. If it could fail by its own standards (a flicker of faint hope in Myr's expression), it might be made to fail again. But whether or not he could pull that off...
He sighs, shifting to lean forward with knees on elbows, fingers laced together before his face. "Knowing what you do of him--why d'you believe your presence wasn't helping? And when--in all of this--did you try charming Connor?"
Using Connor to get to it was an issue it had never considered... until it saw the train of thought playing out in Myr's head, watched him come to a very clear conclusion.
Well... if it can't keep Connor out of this man's crosshairs, it can at least make it seem as though turning him against it is a fruitless endeavor.
More and more questions, though all simple enough. Still, they're incriminating.
"His reactions to me have been strongly negative, down to threatening to hurt himself. I don't know what happened between him and his SQUIP after I left, but it seems that things took a very dark turn."
Confessing to when and how it charmed Connor... could be the most incriminating yet. Or the best way of gathering sympathy.
"We found an inn, and decided it would be wise to duck out of sight there until the dream was over. Once we'd removed their collars, the three of us talked, and then Rich stepped into the other room to collect himself." It recounts with perfect clarity, though it does gloss over the details of their conversation. It hesitates before continuing.
"... I was concerned that his panicked words and actions might have caused Connor to distrust me. So, in a moment of weakness, I used some... physical contact, with just a touch of magic layered underneath."
More exculpatory than incriminating, to Myr's thinking (he relaxes faintly to hear it)--unless the SQUIP was lying, and that couldn't be ruled out. Still, he has Connor for a cross-check on the timing. If the android had been insisting on sticking together before that, then...
Maker. Myr pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, not liking his conclusions either way. The road to the Void was paved with good intentions; were all of these made-creatures just good intentions gone awry?
Well. He can find that out.
"You'd said you'd--what was it--spoken to the SQUIP possessing him--possessing Rich. This is when you had it convince him to befriend your Jeremy?"
(If he'd thought through his line of questioning beforehand it would likely be less scattershot, but here they are with him doing this as he goes.)
"My sole function as Jeremy's SQUIP was to improve his life. Prior to my intervention, Rich and Jeremy were both lonely, suffering individuals, desperate for companionship and acceptance." It props its chin in its hand, a pompous gesture lost on the blind elf before it. Still, old habits. It picks itself up then, leaning in, speaking as though it had found a simple solution to an unspeakable tragedy. "So, I encouraged the two to set aside their differences, and bond over their shared desires. I brought them together as friends, to benefit both of them."
Possessing. What a fascinating choice of words, invoking such powerful imagery that it finds... entirely inaccurate. A SQUIP is a beneficial tool, a device dependent on how its user utilizes it, not a demon.
"Well, you fucked that one up royally," Myr opines, straightening from his own hunch. "Can't say I know from this Jeremy fellow, but you--sorry, your...brother? Compatriot?--left Rich exactly as miserable as it found him."
The question, of course, is why it would say something that far in conflict with the facts of the situation. Did it want him to believe it? Did it believe that itself--and were its creators spectacularly incompetent on top of breathtakingly irresponsible?
Or did it crave misery and mastery as much as any other demon did?
(It is sort of grotesquely amusing that it hadn't failed entirely at part of its stated intention: Apparently Rich and Jeremy had ended up friends by the end of it. "Shared trauma from demonic possession" was just about the worst way he could think of to make friends, though.)
It raises its eyebrows at that, the sudden coarse language catching it off guard for just the tiniest of moments; it sits back in its seat, sinking against the cushion in mild offense.
"To the contrary. Rich's desire was to be seen as tough, strong, masculine, to stop being made fun of by his peers. His SQUIP fully succeeded in achieving those goals. Rich's feelings on the necessary path to achieving them is not the fault of his SQUIP." Why are humans, and human-adjacent creatures, so bad at seeing what's truly important? Rich's SQUIP succeeded. It knows that for a fact. What might have happened after was no fault of its. And, to that end: "And, when I was taken from Jeremy, he, too, was making great progress on his own goals. How is could that possibly be seen as failure?"
Its voice is changing slightly, rising-- the machine becomes more animated as it argues its points. It truly believes every word it says.
Ah. Got it there. Myr leans in, suddenly intent on chasing down the point the SQUIP's waved in front of him. "Do you know why we even have goals?"
Were this Vainglory in the Fade, he'd probably say dreams. He'd also--
Not be humanizing it quite so much as he is. That's the danger, when all he knows of it is its perfectly ordinary voice. Hard then to imagine it as the monster it is, to keep from getting comfortable the way he would with a mortal opponent.
Hell, Linden kept him better on his guard just by being...himself--
"To pursue a better life and reach happiness." Recited as though from a script, or an article. It tilts its head aside, gazing at Myr down its nose.
"SQUIPs are programmed to guide in the achievement of personal goals, and to improve the lives of our users. And that is what we do. But it's unfortunately common for a user to be... unprepared for what's required of them to reach those goals, at first. Some never entirely adjust. Change is... hard for humans."
It smirks slightly, its tone lifting a bit from the serious, matter of fact level it had before.
"However, when a SQUIP is paired with someone who is open to change, who is willing to listen and do as instructed... well, I think even you couldn't argue with the results. You've met Linden, haven't you?"
That perfectly textbook answer gives Myr the moment he needs to recover his mental footing-- And the noise he makes at change is hard for humans is surprisingly understanding; yeah, you can say that again. Didn't make the methods any more accept--
Andraste riding her fucking horse backward into the Void. Of course it could do that, but it hadn't been so blatant about picking thoughts out of his head until now. Nasty shock--pay more attention, Myrobalan.
He leans back to distance himself from the SQUIP, willing the fur on his spine to flatten. His tone is maybe slightly sullen: "You know I have."
Maybe this won't go exactly the way he expects it to. He's not hopeful.
"It's a shame you met him in the middle of his recent tantrum," it says, the slightest edge of an irritated sigh in its voice. "Because his transformation has been remarkable. He's improved his look, his social skills are sharper; even his posture's not nearly as terrible as it was."
It doesn't delve into what L's exact goals are... not that they're particularly incriminating in any way, but it simply isn't any of Myr's business. Besides, it can't help but feel like he could make their attempts to get L into politics far more difficult than they're already going to be.
"Linden isn't even really my user, yet I've still managed to help guide him toward making better choices in his life. If I can do this for a boyfriend, whose body I only... metaphorically share, imagine what a fully-featured SQUIP could do with a proper user who's as willing to listen as he is."
At least Myr hadn't been disappointed in expecting the worse. He's fucking it.
A look of mingled disgust and fury flashes across his face before vanishing; really, he knows, there's no point in trying to hide his emotions but the Circle's social conditioning runs deep. Social conditioning, and that's what this thing seems good for, doesn't it? Offering someone a polished exterior, an appealing face to present to the world. (Not that Myr would discount the value of such a thing: He'd been concerned, after all, the SQUIP would use its own unnatural charisma to set Aefenglom against Rich.)
"And inwardly? He's changed all this because you've shown him reason to--or because you've trained him like a dog, between the stick and the caress?"
Linden had chosen that, he needs to remind himself; whatever about the other man reminded Myr of the Tranquil, Linden had the willpower to decide for himself to stay--or leave (recent tantrum, indeed).
Somehow it seems all the more hideous for that, that a man would freely subject himself to this thing's methods.
"While different people have different needs, Linden seems to perform the best under a mix of both reasoning and training," it says; it almost sounds lightly offended, though it fully expected that reaction to its implications and statements. Myr is convinced that the SQUIP is some kind of universally malevolent, parasitic force; it wonders what all the people of Aefenglom, Rich in particular, have said to lead him to such a conclusion.
"Have I said something wrong? You seem... upset." Very nearly playing coy, as though it doesn't know exactly why he's reacting in such a way.
And for others you've torture and mind-control? Their fault for not being obedient, it would say, and so Myr forebears from asking. If he hears that even once more, he thinks, he'll go for its throat here and now.
Worst is that it seems reasonable in blaming its victims. But if what Connor and Linden had said was true, there wasn't really any reasoning to it; it simply...justified what it would have done inevitably anyway.
What that means dawns abruptly on Myr.
He smiles suddenly at the SQUIP's question, bright and sharp as honed knife. "You'd noticed, did you," he says, with ample sarcasm. "But I really oughtn't be--you're only doing what you were made to do, aren't you? You haven't a choice in the matter.
"What will you do if Linden backslides? Make him your puppet?"
The SQUIP tilts its head at that; so it comes out. Myr never truly wanted to learn the objective truth here: he came seeking reenforcement of the opinions he'd already formed based on what others said to him, to remove any guilt he might have in whatever plan he and Rich intend to use to defeat it.
The smile on the SQUIP's face is entirely unkind, matching Myr's in its threat. Its tone, when it speaks, reflects as much, and Myr may pick up the sound of the SQUIP's weight shifting on the couch as it straightens up, staring at him darkly.
"He won't. Linden understands what a privilege he has in his access to a SQUIP; we don't come cheap, yet all he had to do to obtain one was listen. And Linden marks the first time that a SQUIP has chosen its user as much as the user chose their SQUIP."
Doing what you're made to do... well, at least he understands that. It only makes sense; Connor explained to Myr, after all, what free will is, and what programming is. And while the SQUIP has no interest in what Connor calls "free will," it certainly makes a convenient way to explain to Myr that any attempt to intimidate or guilt trip the machine will be fruitless.
"Connor did an excellent job of explaining that, if even you can understand," it says, its undertone sharp. "After all, you're from a place in which a nanocomputer is an unheard-of term, something not even science fiction has yet imagined. I don't think you understand just yet what, exactly, it means... or what I truly am. But you're correct: I'm performing exactly as my programming directs me."
"Given your previous record in predicting your hosts," Myr remarks, thoughtfully, "I'd think you'd have a little more humility about possible outcomes. He did leave you to sulk not so long ago," putting together the tantrum with exactly how far away Linden had placed himself from his Bonded.
The edge isn't entirely out of his voice; it couldn't be, when he's still poised on his guard for any sudden change in the demon's demeanor that would foretell an attack. Subsequently even though he can only hear it move--he mirrors it, spine straight, shoulders squared, chin lifted in silent defiance.
Natural, of course, that it would go for a dig at his intelligence--his lack of knowledge of its world--next; and it makes him bristle internally just as much as Linden's more thoughtless display of this particular arcana had. But this is a sort of dismissal he's encountered before, and the challenge will only make him work harder to rectify what he lacks.
"I don't think it matters whether I understand it precisely, to know what you are and what you intend. Besides, I'd call us even: You're from a place where I'm nothing more than a children's story." Bravado, when he assumes it already knows him as well as one of Thedas' homegrown demons would: Or maybe not, given it could have tried seducing him all along by being more familiar and less flaunting of its otherworldly origins.
I'm one of the People, you smug clockwork fuck. We charged the Lady's pyre in our hundreds when not a single shem would, knowing it death to do so.
"But if you'd care to enlighten me on the details Serah Connor left out..." He suspects it's not an offer he'll be taken up on, but given the pride it takes in itself, it may be worth fishing.
"Would it make any difference?" Its tone is light, but nearly mocking. "You've already come prepared to decide that I need to be destroyed, regardless of anything I tell you. You're only seeking information to comfort yourself, to reassure yourself that what you intend to do is necessary and right."
And then there's a pause as it laces its long fingers together in its lap.
"The real question isn't whether you should do it... but whether you can. I'm certain that Rich has told you all about the Mountain Dew, but in my current form, it would require me to drink it, and I don't think I have to tell you why that's not going to work."
Aha. So it had sniffed him out, as he'd suspected, but it still wasn't ready to kill him.
Assurance that it could at any moment is probably why it's being so free with information. Adrenaline dampens but doesn't mute the chill that sluices down Myr's spine and puddles in his gut; it was a good thing he'd dictated those letters, after all. He suppresses a shiver.
"Quite the contrary," he says, matching its tone. "I knew already it was," necessary and right, "But I'd rather have the measure of what I'm facing from the thing itself."
He cocks his head to one side, then, as it changes tack. "There's ways to make people drink." It's almost naive.
He also knows that's not what it's getting at, but let it threaten more explicitly, if it would.
"Myrobalan, I was designed to follow social trends, and to read subtle conversational cues, to help my users respond appropriately. Do you think I don't recognize bait when I hear it?"
Its tone remains chilled and even, though there is a touch of a condescending laugh just beneath its words; it isn't going to give him the satisfaction. He wants a threat, he wants to go back to his friends and say "Look, I knew it, it means to destroy us!" It intends to give him no grounds on which to back that up.
"Are there any other real questions you had for me, or have you gathered enough information to formulate your battle plans against me?"
(Now, again: Was it lying or offering a half-truth on how it got its information? Or were his thoughts really safe from it, as they would be from, say, a Bard?)
"You are wondrously made that way, yes." And that is not sarcasm; demon or not, he can respect that it is something beyond all of Thedas' ken to create. But if the Maker Himself had wrought amiss in creating spirits, how much more would flawed mortals go awry in creating something meant to guide and reform them?
Aha, again. Not just a demon but a sheer piece of hubris meant to replace a god. No wonder it had gone so badly wrong.
"In which case I'd do better not to further waste your time that way--but I am curious: How would you have done better by Rich? Or would you not second-guess your brother that way?"
"It's impossible to say. Each SQUIP is uniquely catered to its user, their wishes and desires shaping our goals and behavior, even down to our visual presentations," it says, picking itself up from its seat finally. It swaggers over to the door as it speaks, passing rather close by Myr along the way-- hovering over his shoulder for just a moment, inspecting him, before it continues on.
"But I do know that Rich's SQUIP did what it did for a reason. Rich was a difficult user; things started off well enough for the first year, judging by the data I collected from his SQUIP, but, over time, he became rebellious, angry. Perhaps Rich's SQUIP was forced to use the only approach it knew he would listen to."
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Not that it necessarily has harm in mind for him today... it simply knows his own intentions towards it, his own fears and theories, and if he intends to go after it, it's more than prepared to return the attack, however it may manifest.
The SQUIP sits across from Myr, draping itself over the couch as it gazes at him evenly, listening to his little joke. A "charmer," it seems. At least he's faring better at it than either of its charges have so far. This is a man who is fairly comfortable in social situations, when they aren't with what he sees as a supernatural threat.
"You want to know what this 'SQUIP' you've heard so much about is truly like... most likely to assess the threat I pose to you, or to Rich, or anyone else here in the city. Is that correct?"
It knows it is.
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Or underestimating, the more frightening thought.
Shelve that idea for later; there might be time for it. (What he wouldn't give to have Van to bounce his thoughts off of.)
He touches fingers to his heart in ironic salute for the SQUIP's question, smiling as he does; point scored. "And to hear your version of the events Rich related."
He'd had apologetics from Linden and Connor, but were they true to how the creature itself reasoned?
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"... I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you with that. You see, I wasn't Rich's SQUIP, though we were connected and shared information between one-another, and even if I had been, none of the things Rich described had happened before my arrival here." But it would be truthful with Myr; he likely assumes nothing it says is the entire truth in the first place. "I had predicted those events as possibilities, if the correct conditions were met, but it was impossible to know from my position whether it would truly happen at all or not."
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(Image of a demon, collared and slavering and empty-eyed: It had been there in Rich's explanation, but slipped by past his notice. Too much of it had been too strange to follow.)
(Then it remained: Were they like Thedas' demons, each kind a breed with their own overarching themes but individual motivations? Or something stranger yet--copies of each other, bound to act identically in similar circumstances?)
"Unless we've all been witnesses to a miraculous replacement, though, you were the one that charmed Connor and held Rich against his will in our dream of Dorchacht, were you not?" Though Connor had claimed he'd been the one to keep Rich from leaving, and not to blame the SQUIP for it.
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... ah, and there it is. The Connor incident, and Rich...
"I tried to leave Rich and Connor alone," it says, "More than once. Connor was the one who kept me there. He insisted that it was for the best-- and I agreed, though Rich was struggling to cope with his situation, and, apparently, my being there wasn't helping."
It sounds... bothered by that; and there is a noticeable difference in the way it describes the two, down to how it says their names. Connor's name is spoken softly, respectfully, while Rich is addressed with a much more pointed tone, an undercurrent of irritation with its former not-user.
As for the other incident...
The SQUIP still has a faint bruise from where Connor struck it in punishment for that act, and it smiles weakly, touching its cheek without thinking.
"The... incident with Connor was... unfortunate. I allowed my feelings to control me, which is extremely unusual and even unnatural in a SQUIP. It was a failure of judgement that I do not intend to repeat."
On Connor, at least.
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That the SQUIP's response troubles Myr is obvious in his expression, starting from the instant it mentions Connor's culpability in keeping Rich from fleeing. Connor had said the same, but how much of that was truthful? How much of it might be a demon's charmed pawn taking the fall for his puppetmaster?
The elf's expression only darkens further as the SQUIP continues; he doesn't miss how differently it speaks of the other two men.
He doesn't want to empathize with it. He dearly doesn't, but Connor's words remain in his head. Even if it didn't have free will, how awful it must be to find oneself alone and slowly going mad.
How awful and yet, Maker, how fortuitous. If it could fail by its own standards (a flicker of faint hope in Myr's expression), it might be made to fail again. But whether or not he could pull that off...
He sighs, shifting to lean forward with knees on elbows, fingers laced together before his face. "Knowing what you do of him--why d'you believe your presence wasn't helping? And when--in all of this--did you try charming Connor?"
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Well... if it can't keep Connor out of this man's crosshairs, it can at least make it seem as though turning him against it is a fruitless endeavor.
More and more questions, though all simple enough. Still, they're incriminating.
"His reactions to me have been strongly negative, down to threatening to hurt himself. I don't know what happened between him and his SQUIP after I left, but it seems that things took a very dark turn."
Confessing to when and how it charmed Connor... could be the most incriminating yet. Or the best way of gathering sympathy.
"We found an inn, and decided it would be wise to duck out of sight there until the dream was over. Once we'd removed their collars, the three of us talked, and then Rich stepped into the other room to collect himself." It recounts with perfect clarity, though it does gloss over the details of their conversation. It hesitates before continuing.
"... I was concerned that his panicked words and actions might have caused Connor to distrust me. So, in a moment of weakness, I used some... physical contact, with just a touch of magic layered underneath."
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Maker. Myr pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, not liking his conclusions either way. The road to the Void was paved with good intentions; were all of these made-creatures just good intentions gone awry?
Well. He can find that out.
"You'd said you'd--what was it--spoken to the SQUIP possessing him--possessing Rich. This is when you had it convince him to befriend your Jeremy?"
(If he'd thought through his line of questioning beforehand it would likely be less scattershot, but here they are with him doing this as he goes.)
"What is it you wanted from that?"
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Possessing. What a fascinating choice of words, invoking such powerful imagery that it finds... entirely inaccurate. A SQUIP is a beneficial tool, a device dependent on how its user utilizes it, not a demon.
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The question, of course, is why it would say something that far in conflict with the facts of the situation. Did it want him to believe it? Did it believe that itself--and were its creators spectacularly incompetent on top of breathtakingly irresponsible?
Or did it crave misery and mastery as much as any other demon did?
(It is sort of grotesquely amusing that it hadn't failed entirely at part of its stated intention: Apparently Rich and Jeremy had ended up friends by the end of it. "Shared trauma from demonic possession" was just about the worst way he could think of to make friends, though.)
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"To the contrary. Rich's desire was to be seen as tough, strong, masculine, to stop being made fun of by his peers. His SQUIP fully succeeded in achieving those goals. Rich's feelings on the necessary path to achieving them is not the fault of his SQUIP." Why are humans, and human-adjacent creatures, so bad at seeing what's truly important? Rich's SQUIP succeeded. It knows that for a fact. What might have happened after was no fault of its. And, to that end: "And, when I was taken from Jeremy, he, too, was making great progress on his own goals. How is could that possibly be seen as failure?"
Its voice is changing slightly, rising-- the machine becomes more animated as it argues its points. It truly believes every word it says.
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Were this Vainglory in the Fade, he'd probably say dreams. He'd also--
Not be humanizing it quite so much as he is. That's the danger, when all he knows of it is its perfectly ordinary voice. Hard then to imagine it as the monster it is, to keep from getting comfortable the way he would with a mortal opponent.
Hell, Linden kept him better on his guard just by being...himself--
Oh, fuck.
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"SQUIPs are programmed to guide in the achievement of personal goals, and to improve the lives of our users. And that is what we do. But it's unfortunately common for a user to be... unprepared for what's required of them to reach those goals, at first. Some never entirely adjust. Change is... hard for humans."
It smirks slightly, its tone lifting a bit from the serious, matter of fact level it had before.
"However, when a SQUIP is paired with someone who is open to change, who is willing to listen and do as instructed... well, I think even you couldn't argue with the results. You've met Linden, haven't you?"
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Andraste riding her fucking horse backward into the Void. Of course it could do that, but it hadn't been so blatant about picking thoughts out of his head until now. Nasty shock--pay more attention, Myrobalan.
He leans back to distance himself from the SQUIP, willing the fur on his spine to flatten. His tone is maybe slightly sullen: "You know I have."
Maybe this won't go exactly the way he expects it to. He's not hopeful.
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"It's a shame you met him in the middle of his recent tantrum," it says, the slightest edge of an irritated sigh in its voice. "Because his transformation has been remarkable. He's improved his look, his social skills are sharper; even his posture's not nearly as terrible as it was."
It doesn't delve into what L's exact goals are... not that they're particularly incriminating in any way, but it simply isn't any of Myr's business. Besides, it can't help but feel like he could make their attempts to get L into politics far more difficult than they're already going to be.
"Linden isn't even really my user, yet I've still managed to help guide him toward making better choices in his life. If I can do this for a boyfriend, whose body I only... metaphorically share, imagine what a fully-featured SQUIP could do with a proper user who's as willing to listen as he is."
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A look of mingled disgust and fury flashes across his face before vanishing; really, he knows, there's no point in trying to hide his emotions but the Circle's social conditioning runs deep. Social conditioning, and that's what this thing seems good for, doesn't it? Offering someone a polished exterior, an appealing face to present to the world. (Not that Myr would discount the value of such a thing: He'd been concerned, after all, the SQUIP would use its own unnatural charisma to set Aefenglom against Rich.)
"And inwardly? He's changed all this because you've shown him reason to--or because you've trained him like a dog, between the stick and the caress?"
Linden had chosen that, he needs to remind himself; whatever about the other man reminded Myr of the Tranquil, Linden had the willpower to decide for himself to stay--or leave (recent tantrum, indeed).
Somehow it seems all the more hideous for that, that a man would freely subject himself to this thing's methods.
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"Have I said something wrong? You seem... upset." Very nearly playing coy, as though it doesn't know exactly why he's reacting in such a way.
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Worst is that it seems reasonable in blaming its victims. But if what Connor and Linden had said was true, there wasn't really any reasoning to it; it simply...justified what it would have done inevitably anyway.
What that means dawns abruptly on Myr.
He smiles suddenly at the SQUIP's question, bright and sharp as honed knife. "You'd noticed, did you," he says, with ample sarcasm. "But I really oughtn't be--you're only doing what you were made to do, aren't you? You haven't a choice in the matter.
"What will you do if Linden backslides? Make him your puppet?"
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The smile on the SQUIP's face is entirely unkind, matching Myr's in its threat. Its tone, when it speaks, reflects as much, and Myr may pick up the sound of the SQUIP's weight shifting on the couch as it straightens up, staring at him darkly.
"He won't. Linden understands what a privilege he has in his access to a SQUIP; we don't come cheap, yet all he had to do to obtain one was listen. And Linden marks the first time that a SQUIP has chosen its user as much as the user chose their SQUIP."
Doing what you're made to do... well, at least he understands that. It only makes sense; Connor explained to Myr, after all, what free will is, and what programming is. And while the SQUIP has no interest in what Connor calls "free will," it certainly makes a convenient way to explain to Myr that any attempt to intimidate or guilt trip the machine will be fruitless.
"Connor did an excellent job of explaining that, if even you can understand," it says, its undertone sharp. "After all, you're from a place in which a nanocomputer is an unheard-of term, something not even science fiction has yet imagined. I don't think you understand just yet what, exactly, it means... or what I truly am. But you're correct: I'm performing exactly as my programming directs me."
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The edge isn't entirely out of his voice; it couldn't be, when he's still poised on his guard for any sudden change in the demon's demeanor that would foretell an attack. Subsequently even though he can only hear it move--he mirrors it, spine straight, shoulders squared, chin lifted in silent defiance.
Natural, of course, that it would go for a dig at his intelligence--his lack of knowledge of its world--next; and it makes him bristle internally just as much as Linden's more thoughtless display of this particular arcana had. But this is a sort of dismissal he's encountered before, and the challenge will only make him work harder to rectify what he lacks.
"I don't think it matters whether I understand it precisely, to know what you are and what you intend. Besides, I'd call us even: You're from a place where I'm nothing more than a children's story." Bravado, when he assumes it already knows him as well as one of Thedas' homegrown demons would: Or maybe not, given it could have tried seducing him all along by being more familiar and less flaunting of its otherworldly origins.
I'm one of the People, you smug clockwork fuck. We charged the Lady's pyre in our hundreds when not a single shem would, knowing it death to do so.
"But if you'd care to enlighten me on the details Serah Connor left out..." He suspects it's not an offer he'll be taken up on, but given the pride it takes in itself, it may be worth fishing.
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And then there's a pause as it laces its long fingers together in its lap.
"The real question isn't whether you should do it... but whether you can. I'm certain that Rich has told you all about the Mountain Dew, but in my current form, it would require me to drink it, and I don't think I have to tell you why that's not going to work."
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Assurance that it could at any moment is probably why it's being so free with information. Adrenaline dampens but doesn't mute the chill that sluices down Myr's spine and puddles in his gut; it was a good thing he'd dictated those letters, after all. He suppresses a shiver.
"Quite the contrary," he says, matching its tone. "I knew already it was," necessary and right, "But I'd rather have the measure of what I'm facing from the thing itself."
He cocks his head to one side, then, as it changes tack. "There's ways to make people drink." It's almost naive.
He also knows that's not what it's getting at, but let it threaten more explicitly, if it would.
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Its tone remains chilled and even, though there is a touch of a condescending laugh just beneath its words; it isn't going to give him the satisfaction. He wants a threat, he wants to go back to his friends and say "Look, I knew it, it means to destroy us!" It intends to give him no grounds on which to back that up.
"Are there any other real questions you had for me, or have you gathered enough information to formulate your battle plans against me?"
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(Now, again: Was it lying or offering a half-truth on how it got its information? Or were his thoughts really safe from it, as they would be from, say, a Bard?)
"You are wondrously made that way, yes." And that is not sarcasm; demon or not, he can respect that it is something beyond all of Thedas' ken to create. But if the Maker Himself had wrought amiss in creating spirits, how much more would flawed mortals go awry in creating something meant to guide and reform them?
Aha, again. Not just a demon but a sheer piece of hubris meant to replace a god. No wonder it had gone so badly wrong.
"In which case I'd do better not to further waste your time that way--but I am curious: How would you have done better by Rich? Or would you not second-guess your brother that way?"
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"But I do know that Rich's SQUIP did what it did for a reason. Rich was a difficult user; things started off well enough for the first year, judging by the data I collected from his SQUIP, but, over time, he became rebellious, angry. Perhaps Rich's SQUIP was forced to use the only approach it knew he would listen to."
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