Some Reassembly Required

[rekindledtitan]

There’s an open, grassy area on the edge of the Wilds, some distance from the most popular Nexus parks where people are enjoying their picnics and centaur polo and so forth. It’s a good place to go if you want slightly more peace and quiet - or in Blaze’s case, a good open space in which to make a lot of noise. The robot soldier has a few small crates out on the grass. One of them she’s sitting on; the others are being used as tables which hold a small array of tools and components and blocks of metal. She’s working on modifying a pair of heavy armored boots much like the pair she’s wearing, refitting the soles and reinforcing their structure. Her Ghost hovers beside her, inspecting a blueprint spread out atop one of the boxes. The little bot is spinning his pointy shell back and forth as if concerned, but Blaze pays him no heed.

“So,” she says, speaking up while she works. “People change. Some of us change more than others. Sometimes we don’t notice how it happens. Sometimes,” she yanks out a component and chucks it down beside her, “we don’t get a say. So what part of yourself would you want make sure you held on to? What’s the part you’d want to be remembered?” She pauses, then looks up at the nearest people. “And, hey, anyone got some spare explosives?"

Comments

[not_the_question]

He huffs a wry sort of chuckle. "I thought you were being more literal than this. Clearly I was wrong. I'll just sit here and watch while you do..."

His voice tapers off and he raises his head. He makes a gesture with his top hand to indicate she should just continue on with her metalworking. He doesn't mind a philosophical discussion, but honestly, he had hoped for one that would be a little more substantial for him than this.

The noise doesn't bother him. It's good for him, since he's been too far inside his head recently.

[rekindledtitan]

She lifts her head and stares at him for a second or two, optics glowing bright. "What makes you think I'm not being literal?"

The metallic click and buzz of her work resumes as she turns her focus back there. It's good to keep her hands busy. Mind busy. Stops her dwelling on what she's saying. "I've been through more than three dozen reboots. I know exactly how it feels to be scared of losing who you are. Getting replaced by some new iteration."

[not_the_question]

He lowers his head back to his hands. “Reboot, sure. Those are easy. I’ve rebooted my entire universe once or twice. It’s just resetting things back to their default settings. Regeneration is different. Every cell in my body rips itself inside out. Renews itself. On the other side, I have a new and different body. A different personality, different likes, but still with all the memories, thoughts, and feelings of the previous one.”

He’d prefer a reboot in some ways.

“How do you know you were rebooted that many times?”

Because to his knowledge a reboot resets everything.

[rekindledtitan]

"'Just' a reset?" His attitude was rubbing her the wrong way to start with, but now her hands have gone still and her voice hard. His question about her reboot count is ignored. "Maybe you ought to try it, if you think it's so easy. None of what you're describing sounds that different to what my people go through. Maybe one of us has things a little better or a little worse, I don't know. Point is, you're not the only guy around here who's been remade mind and body. You aren't even the first Time Lord I've met."

Electric sparks are crawling over the backs of her gauntlets. Blaze reaches down and slaps the ground to neutralize them before she damages her handicraft project. "So do you want to talk about it or do you just plan on sitting around acting tragic?"

[not_the_question]

"I'd ask how you knew I was a a Time Lord, but if you've met one of us before, 'regeneration' sort of gives it away."

He doesn't care about her terseness. He's cross enough for everyone.

"Like I said, I've rebooted the universe once or twice. I've had memories deleted. I have a pretty good idea of which I'd prefer."

Thousands of years old, billions of years of experience kind of does that to him.

"As to 'acting tragic' well..."

He shrugs. Nothing acting about it, but he's not about to show off the glow. He's been having enough troubles recently without adding to them.

[rekindledtitan]

"And I'd demand an apology, but I don't think you'd understand why." She sets boot and tools down on the crate beside her. "So you don't want to talk. Move on, then."

It's an order, not a request. Too bad, almost: his situation is one she'd ordinarily feel a great deal of sympathy for, but she doesn't have the patience to deal with his arrogance. Not when it comes to this.

[not_the_question]

She's right, he wouldn't understand why. More importantly, he wouldn't offer it if it was demanded. Such demands usually evoke the opposite reply. He doesn't move or speak for about a full minute. Finally he sits up straight as if he's preparing to stand, but he doesn't.

"I'm willing to talk, if you say something as well. I'm not used to being the one to... share."

Which is true. He swoops in, fixes whatever the problem is and leaves. He doesn't really do this sort of thing and he's terrible at it anyway. Adding his current mood into the mix only makes it worse.

"I'm willing to try."

He raises an eyebrow slowly in question. Is she willing to try as well.