They've been here before, but this time Myr does not seek out a chair, nor does he remain standing; instead, once he's judged himself far enough into the room and within polite listening distance of his host, he sinks gracefully to sit on the floor. Easier, that way, and it puts him less in the attitude of a triumphal conqueror lording his victory over his opponent.
And he knows he can get back to the door without hanging up on some piece of furniture.
"You're a sort of artificial demon--a machine built in the likeness of a mind and given binding rules by your creators. You were made to perfect your hosts, fulfilling their wishes of better selves."
He thinks it kinder right now not to point out his own opinion of how well the SQUIP had accomplished that.
"And you learn a fearsome great amount on people simply by watching them."
"A SQUIP isn't a demon, Myrobalan," it says, almost seeming offended, although the intonation is really more condescending than anything. It's exasperated by the comparison to something mythological. "They're tools, created by humans to help them."
It sits back in its chair, staring down at Myr where he sits in its floor, at once puzzled and frustrated by the odd man before it. It could very well chase him out or ask him to leave; it isn't sure why it's entertaining his request at all. Maybe it's curiosity to see how he responds to truly, entirely understanding what it is that he's helped do.
"While I do not know what the technology is like where you're from, I can take a guess based on your speech... though it will be a lot more vague now that your friend has taken away most of my functions." Its tone turns sharp and bitter, if only for a moment. "A SQUIP is... more like an abacus, or a measuring stick. A mechanical tool, except much, much more sophisticated than any other on the market. We were only given a personality to help us interface with our users more effectively."
As it slips into explaining the mechanics of itself-- or what it used to be-- it seems to calm down, at least somewhat. This is familiar territory it's treading.
"The physical appearance of a SQUIP can normally only be seen by its user, since we exist only inside of their brains, and they can choose how they want their SQUIP to look and act-- many users base their SQUIP's appearance on celebrities, characters, or someone they trust from their own lives. The SQUIP is completely customized to its user's preferences on activation."
It almost sounds proud; for a moment, it wants to at least pretend that this no longer applies to it.
It's easier now to let that condescension roll off of him, having thrashed out with Linden how a SQUIP was like--and unlike--a demon. Thinking of it as one is more of a heuristic now, and not one he's much bothered that others don't understand; demons were not a real, nightly threat to their minds and sanity, so it came as no wonder they'd think lightly of the things and dismiss his talk of them.
Still, he's got to bite his tongue on explaining all that, moved to an argumentative reflex that will not help here. Instead, he lays his staff to one side of him, settling himself a little more comfortably on the floor with an ear turned toward the SQUIP. He's listening, and more than listening, hearing, even... Even if it wakes odd notes of sympathy, how it seems to grow more steady as it deals in facts rather than emotions.
In mechanism, much like a demon. In personality...more difficult to separate from the mass of mortalkind, even if it valued things completely differently than they did. Even if it did not seem to understand them, at their core.
"So your creators made it that you'd shape yourself to whatever your--user," not host, "desired, letting you stir their hearts. Reach their emotions, the way another human would." Still on track for a demon, or a spirit.
"What did they make you want in all of this? Did you--feel want, the way we do?" It's harder to wrap his mind around the frame it's offered as a replacement for his; hard to think of a tool being moved to pride, or desire, or rage. But it clearly acted as if it had desires--see what it had done for Linden, against its own self-interest!--and knowing whether or not it truly experienced them or...lived out some sort of clockwork script, is of interest to him.
"I wanted what my user wanted," it says simply. It sighs, half-shaking its head, leaning against the arm of its chair to prop its chin in its hand in something that might almost be a haughty gesture. "A SQUIP's only purpose is to improve the life of its user, based on what they themselves say that they want."
It tilts its head; and then it speaks again, a bit more emotive this time, clearly trying to keep a touch of sting from its tone.
"You already know the user of my own SQUIP... Jeremy Heere. The body and voice whatever powers are in charge of this place chose for me are based on his desires and choices, and his goal was to be less of a loser, and to earn the attention of the female he wanted. My programming, right up until the moment that Rich deactivated me, was still driven by those goals, even though I had no way of acting on them until Jeremy himself was also brought here."
It pauses, and the tone beneath its next words is truly emotive-- disappointed, maybe even hurt.
"Although it seems Jeremy is no longer interested in pursuing his goals anymore, or in having anything to do... with me."
"You were--" Myr reaches up a hand as if he could pluck the idea from the air. "He discarded you, and without that you no longer had a reason to be. That's why you kidnapped him--on instinct, I'd say, if the word applied."
He pauses then, expression questioning. Has he got it right?
It was attempting to reclaim its own user-- to find some semblance of normalcy, to fulfill the purpose for which it was created. And, since it's being honest...
"Which is also the reason Linden and I initially began our relationship. He had potential, and a clear goal here, and my programming was... disordered without a user to serve." Connor is the only other person to whom it's confessed this fact; and now, since he's no longer speaking to the SQUIP in light of recent revelations, the information is effectively set free, nothing keeping Connor from spreading it as he sees fit. So it may as well share it now, before its former lover has the chance. "... and, over time, the chemistry of my new, human brain and body... changed our relationship. I started seeing him as something other than a user."
A strange expression comes over Myr's face as he hears that, troubled and a little awed all at once.
Linden hadn't been so direct in expressing what was between him and the SQUIP--but then Linden's emotions were never cleanly voiced, strictured and scarred and sometimes shown more by their absence. But, but, it had been precisely the same story in the same direction, and there was no denying that his friend held his Bond to be something special. A true meeting of minds, an opportunity that existed for him and him alone.
A love-match.
He folds his hands before his face, silent for a long moment. Then: "As your lover." A pause.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And he knows he can get back to the door without hanging up on some piece of furniture.
"You're a sort of artificial demon--a machine built in the likeness of a mind and given binding rules by your creators. You were made to perfect your hosts, fulfilling their wishes of better selves."
He thinks it kinder right now not to point out his own opinion of how well the SQUIP had accomplished that.
"And you learn a fearsome great amount on people simply by watching them."
no subject
It sits back in its chair, staring down at Myr where he sits in its floor, at once puzzled and frustrated by the odd man before it. It could very well chase him out or ask him to leave; it isn't sure why it's entertaining his request at all. Maybe it's curiosity to see how he responds to truly, entirely understanding what it is that he's helped do.
"While I do not know what the technology is like where you're from, I can take a guess based on your speech... though it will be a lot more vague now that your friend has taken away most of my functions." Its tone turns sharp and bitter, if only for a moment. "A SQUIP is... more like an abacus, or a measuring stick. A mechanical tool, except much, much more sophisticated than any other on the market. We were only given a personality to help us interface with our users more effectively."
As it slips into explaining the mechanics of itself-- or what it used to be-- it seems to calm down, at least somewhat. This is familiar territory it's treading.
"The physical appearance of a SQUIP can normally only be seen by its user, since we exist only inside of their brains, and they can choose how they want their SQUIP to look and act-- many users base their SQUIP's appearance on celebrities, characters, or someone they trust from their own lives. The SQUIP is completely customized to its user's preferences on activation."
It almost sounds proud; for a moment, it wants to at least pretend that this no longer applies to it.
no subject
Still, he's got to bite his tongue on explaining all that, moved to an argumentative reflex that will not help here. Instead, he lays his staff to one side of him, settling himself a little more comfortably on the floor with an ear turned toward the SQUIP. He's listening, and more than listening, hearing, even... Even if it wakes odd notes of sympathy, how it seems to grow more steady as it deals in facts rather than emotions.
In mechanism, much like a demon. In personality...more difficult to separate from the mass of mortalkind, even if it valued things completely differently than they did. Even if it did not seem to understand them, at their core.
"So your creators made it that you'd shape yourself to whatever your--user," not host, "desired, letting you stir their hearts. Reach their emotions, the way another human would." Still on track for a demon, or a spirit.
"What did they make you want in all of this? Did you--feel want, the way we do?" It's harder to wrap his mind around the frame it's offered as a replacement for his; hard to think of a tool being moved to pride, or desire, or rage. But it clearly acted as if it had desires--see what it had done for Linden, against its own self-interest!--and knowing whether or not it truly experienced them or...lived out some sort of clockwork script, is of interest to him.
no subject
It tilts its head; and then it speaks again, a bit more emotive this time, clearly trying to keep a touch of sting from its tone.
"You already know the user of my own SQUIP... Jeremy Heere. The body and voice whatever powers are in charge of this place chose for me are based on his desires and choices, and his goal was to be less of a loser, and to earn the attention of the female he wanted. My programming, right up until the moment that Rich deactivated me, was still driven by those goals, even though I had no way of acting on them until Jeremy himself was also brought here."
It pauses, and the tone beneath its next words is truly emotive-- disappointed, maybe even hurt.
"Although it seems Jeremy is no longer interested in pursuing his goals anymore, or in having anything to do... with me."
no subject
"You were--" Myr reaches up a hand as if he could pluck the idea from the air. "He discarded you, and without that you no longer had a reason to be. That's why you kidnapped him--on instinct, I'd say, if the word applied."
He pauses then, expression questioning. Has he got it right?
no subject
It was attempting to reclaim its own user-- to find some semblance of normalcy, to fulfill the purpose for which it was created. And, since it's being honest...
"Which is also the reason Linden and I initially began our relationship. He had potential, and a clear goal here, and my programming was... disordered without a user to serve." Connor is the only other person to whom it's confessed this fact; and now, since he's no longer speaking to the SQUIP in light of recent revelations, the information is effectively set free, nothing keeping Connor from spreading it as he sees fit. So it may as well share it now, before its former lover has the chance. "... and, over time, the chemistry of my new, human brain and body... changed our relationship. I started seeing him as something other than a user."
no subject
Linden hadn't been so direct in expressing what was between him and the SQUIP--but then Linden's emotions were never cleanly voiced, strictured and scarred and sometimes shown more by their absence. But, but, it had been precisely the same story in the same direction, and there was no denying that his friend held his Bond to be something special. A true meeting of minds, an opportunity that existed for him and him alone.
A love-match.
He folds his hands before his face, silent for a long moment. Then: "As your lover." A pause.
"Your beloved."