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

[rekindledtitan]

"A few times over, that I remember. Half the time it's thanks to this place." Blaze knows Ghost is peeking back at her, she's just choosing to ignore it. She sets a relic-alloy plate into place and pulls off a gauntlet, testing the reddish metal with her fingertips.

"You mean lately, though? That's been more- hn, facing up to some things I didn't want to admit. Stepped in some old politics no-one mentioned to us. Had some-" Tap, tap, tap- the fit is fine. It's in, it'll hold. "Memory issues that weren't what I thought. I've got a lot to figure out. Got reason to celebrate, too. That's why I figured I'd do something fun."

[upperfixer]

"Old politics. Sometimes it's worse than a grenade."

Fairfax chooses to stare down more at her hands tapping away at the boots than her face - face? Might as well be, it's somehow more expressive than he'd give it credit for - partly because he's not great at maintaining eye contact unless it was necessary, but also because he recognises that she's saying something that sounds important to her and he really can't deal with that.

"Memory issues - what memory issues?"

She mentions something to celebrate too, but Fairfax has always been a bit hyper-fixated on the negative.

[[sorry for the sporadic replies - been a bit busy but it'll be evening out soon!]]

[rekindledtitan]

"You said it. Least a grenade's short and simple." She leans over to pick up the small box of metal pieces beside her, pulls out the next couple of plates she wants.

"Ah." It's not a secret. She might be a lot less complacent about it than she once was, but it's mostly common knowledge. "Bots like me- Exos - we reboot every once in a while. Total memory wipe and reset. Our creators are long dead, so they can't tell us about the how and why of it." This is said simply, matter-of-factly, though she admits, "I kind of assumed no more technicians meant no more reboots. Found out it doesn't work that way, though."


[[No problem! I won't be around much for the next week or so myself but I'll reply where I can!]]