[Let's put aside whatever moral quandaries might arise from putting an AI on a dating-murder game. (shawna said laughing hysterically) The fact that anyone in the universe decided Mobius should be on a dating game show type production would be laughable to him, and then the bodies started dropping, and then he realized his purpose here.
Because he needs a purpose. And that's to keep everyone safe, or as safe as he can. And to solve the mysteries as they emerge. Sometimes that is the way to keep people safe. Solve a murder to keep the rest of them alive. It's exhausting in a way his job had rarely been, simply because of the terrible social aspect of it. These people, they're not just numbers, not just wayward variants (well, they might be, but not under his jurisdiction at any rate), but people he has to live with.
(And date? Is the dating thing still on the table? Yeah, because all this just screams roses and candlelit dinners.)
Lambda, bless her digital soul, has grated on just about everyone's nerves, leading to plenty of arguments left uncomfortably unfinished for her refusal to take any blame. It might simply be her programming, but to program a love-obsessed virtuadoll to be so fucking obstinate sure was a choice if so. Mobius gets along with her well enough, if only to help keep any fights from happening before they begin.
And Sundays just plain suck. When memories leech back in through dreams, it's always chaotic, a tumult of emotions, and one really has to wonder if perhaps some of the least stable people in seven galaxies were chosen specifically for this. (Hey, it might lead to more murder, apparently!) He does his rounds and finds the karaoke bar...strangely barren. The garden is, in fact, one of the last places he looks, because it's completely out of her norm.
He watches her for a little bit, as though he might divine out of the air what's going on, before he finally strolls up and takes a seat on the grass next to her.]
no subject
Because he needs a purpose. And that's to keep everyone safe, or as safe as he can. And to solve the mysteries as they emerge. Sometimes that is the way to keep people safe. Solve a murder to keep the rest of them alive. It's exhausting in a way his job had rarely been, simply because of the terrible social aspect of it. These people, they're not just numbers, not just wayward variants (well, they might be, but not under his jurisdiction at any rate), but people he has to live with.
(And date? Is the dating thing still on the table? Yeah, because all this just screams roses and candlelit dinners.)
Lambda, bless her digital soul, has grated on just about everyone's nerves, leading to plenty of arguments left uncomfortably unfinished for her refusal to take any blame. It might simply be her programming, but to program a love-obsessed virtuadoll to be so fucking obstinate sure was a choice if so. Mobius gets along with her well enough, if only to help keep any fights from happening before they begin.
And Sundays just plain suck. When memories leech back in through dreams, it's always chaotic, a tumult of emotions, and one really has to wonder if perhaps some of the least stable people in seven galaxies were chosen specifically for this. (Hey, it might lead to more murder, apparently!) He does his rounds and finds the karaoke bar...strangely barren. The garden is, in fact, one of the last places he looks, because it's completely out of her norm.
He watches her for a little bit, as though he might divine out of the air what's going on, before he finally strolls up and takes a seat on the grass next to her.]