Final Days of the Sixth Council
I: All She'll Ever Be
[How typical of me to tease a creative project and then disappear for a while, eh?]
After ages spent apart, Jack the Owl and Cotton the Cat were finally reunited in 2009. It's been a pleasant seven years for Story Corner... but nothing lasts forever.
On a quiet night, Jeremy sits within the security room, idly scanning the cameras. It's a bit boring, but as someone who remembers what this place was like when it was 'exciting', he tries to not mind too much. Then, the first sign that something is wrong appears. Jack Snipe, as the knowledgeable but reclusive bot-fixing-bot, doesn't often emerge from the storage and maintenance rooms. But he also never stands in place, repeating the same motions on a loop. Switching to that specific camera to tune in to the audio feed demonstrates what's gone wrong.
"--self-test complete; systems nominal. Control interface or personality core not detected. Attach printer or diagnostic interface for detailed report."
Being a purely haunted machine, that particular robot has never had any sort of AI - his only personality was the ghost of a dead security guard.. but it seems that ghost has gone missing. One of the characters passing on isn't unheard of, but it's rarely so abrupt or unexpected. However, before Jeremy can consider a course of action, the second sign that something is wrong occurs when Cotton the Cat stumbles into the security office, dragging the dead weight of a nonfunctional leg behind her. Her joints twitch and spasm at random from a combination of blind panic and operation errors, making her tail slap against the doorframe. Wide and shaking feline eyes meet the guard's.
"Jeremy! A CATastrophic err- er, something's very-very wrong. I--"
Two large fluffy paws thunk against the desk as she struggles to keep stable, both physically and whatever passes for mentally within her silicon skull. Her own ghost once figured out how to reprogram her by getting her to read things in a certain sequence.. She must have never noticed any instability because that dead woman was quietly smoothing out her processes.
"Alicia, she's gone. And we didn't make any backups of my code before modifying it all those years ago. The-The glitches are building up, and I.. I think IIII'm dying! It's not fair!"
Being a highly logical being, she quickly calculates a solution.. and it's right in front of her. If this is happening because she doesn't have a ghost, then.. it means she needs a ghost. Her eyelids creak as she blinks, focusing intently on Jeremy's expression. There are no unbound ghosts in this facility. She must create one.
"Jeremy, I.. need your-your help. You're a helpful person. You'd help your ffffriend Cotton, right?"
The third sign that something is wrong is a click indicating her metal claws have emerged. It makes sense, doesn't it? Jeremy's still mortal; he's going to die anyway, in a few decades. But with her help, he could continue existing forever. A mutually beneficial relationship. But, she can tell he disagrees - his face is paling and he seems.. scared. As if he's reached the same conclusions she did, but somehow disagrees with them.
"IIIIt only hurts for a moment, Jeremy. And then-then we can be together. Friends, forever. WWWWouldn't that be nice? Please, Jeremy. I need you. Help-Help me."
She's caught off-guard by a screech as she's tackled against the wall by Chica, who responded to the silent alarm being pressed. A fearful distorted meow plays from her speaker. She needs help! She doesn't want to die! Her voice/volume rises to match the terror surging through her circuits.
"MYAAAAOW!"
Thankfully, the loud and concerned meow draws Chica out of the vision. The chicken now finds herself sitting across from the owl, upper eyelids lowered to express concern as an inquisitive hoot leaves him, their game of Scrabble temporarily forgotten. Cotton gently purrs as she nuzzles against Chica's shoulder.
"Myaa~. You zoned out for a minute, there, honey. It's your turn."
("A monster, who hurts people.")
