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007 [AUDIO]
[Hey sup Tranquility IT'S WHEATLEY TIME. And if you don't know what that entails, YOU ARE ABOUT TO FIND OUT. Spoiler alert: it's a lot of petulant British whining.]
Yes, right, hello, sort of been a while, hasn't it? Two things. Well, three, I suppose, if you want to get technical.
One. I am...okay, I'll be honest, I'm in the market for a weapon. And a haircut. Either/or, really. I suppose the weapon is--is the more pressing issue, because, well, obviously we've got a monster problem on board. I saw the science department; you can't convince me there aren't other...abominations of that nature hiding away on this ship, and I'd rather not experience another situation where it's me, and no weapon, versus a bunch of vicious animals out for my blood. Sure, it's all well and good if the powers that be dump an entire arsenal in your locker, but some of us didn't have arsenals back home. Some of us had flashlights, which, for the record, I was not allowed to keep.
The haircut is...slightly less pressing, but I do think I need to look into it. I was under the impression that it would quit growing eventually, you know, reach a maximum length and then stop, but we're going on…what? Eight months? And that does--that does not seem to be the case. If it hurts, someone might want to let me know, and we'll just forget it, but honestly, I will never understand how any of you deal with all these pointless functions. Ridiculous.
I don't exactly have a lot to offer but I would...very much like to work something out, if possible. We can--we can negotiate.
Have I mentioned how hard it is to participate in our little established barter system when you don't have possessions? It's difficult, in case you were wondering, especially when you need weapons, or haircuts, or maybe clothing that isn't covered in buttons and zippers and laces. I mean, for god's sake, I'm starting to pawn of my furniture to get what I need around here.
Third. Mostly unrelated to points one and two, but still important. Cave Johnson, founder and CEO of Aperture Science, seems to have mysteriously vanished, as people tend to do around here. Seeing as I was his appointed personal assistant, I'll be assuming leadership of the company from here on out. All inquiries regarding Aperture activity can be directed to me. [hay GLaDOS haaaaay]
Oh, and--four things. I lied, I had four things. Ward or Resnik, when either of you have a moment--I'm sure your moments are few and far between but in the event you do feel like giving me the time of day, I've just got a question. Quick one. Won't take any time at all.
Yes, right, hello, sort of been a while, hasn't it? Two things. Well, three, I suppose, if you want to get technical.
One. I am...okay, I'll be honest, I'm in the market for a weapon. And a haircut. Either/or, really. I suppose the weapon is--is the more pressing issue, because, well, obviously we've got a monster problem on board. I saw the science department; you can't convince me there aren't other...abominations of that nature hiding away on this ship, and I'd rather not experience another situation where it's me, and no weapon, versus a bunch of vicious animals out for my blood. Sure, it's all well and good if the powers that be dump an entire arsenal in your locker, but some of us didn't have arsenals back home. Some of us had flashlights, which, for the record, I was not allowed to keep.
The haircut is...slightly less pressing, but I do think I need to look into it. I was under the impression that it would quit growing eventually, you know, reach a maximum length and then stop, but we're going on…what? Eight months? And that does--that does not seem to be the case. If it hurts, someone might want to let me know, and we'll just forget it, but honestly, I will never understand how any of you deal with all these pointless functions. Ridiculous.
I don't exactly have a lot to offer but I would...very much like to work something out, if possible. We can--we can negotiate.
Have I mentioned how hard it is to participate in our little established barter system when you don't have possessions? It's difficult, in case you were wondering, especially when you need weapons, or haircuts, or maybe clothing that isn't covered in buttons and zippers and laces. I mean, for god's sake, I'm starting to pawn of my furniture to get what I need around here.
Third. Mostly unrelated to points one and two, but still important. Cave Johnson, founder and CEO of Aperture Science, seems to have mysteriously vanished, as people tend to do around here. Seeing as I was his appointed personal assistant, I'll be assuming leadership of the company from here on out. All inquiries regarding Aperture activity can be directed to me. [hay GLaDOS haaaaay]
Oh, and--four things. I lied, I had four things. Ward or Resnik, when either of you have a moment--I'm sure your moments are few and far between but in the event you do feel like giving me the time of day, I've just got a question. Quick one. Won't take any time at all.
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Hey, Fearless Leader. You think you could honor me with your presence in the lab. I got a little something to show you.
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fearless leader
yes perfect]
Oh, uh. Right. On my way. Walking and talking, that's--that's a thing I am capable of. Is it a good something or an unfortunate something?
[is it another sweatervest I hope it's another sweatervest]
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[And some unfortunate questions.
And also cupcakes.]
So Cave vanished... I guess that explains why he hasn't thrown a fit about me ripping apart his tech.
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[Aaaaaand a small pause for what might be feelings.]
Yeah, well, I'd...suspected, when I stopped seeing him around, but the jump sort of confirmed it.
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Yeah... Kenzi never came back after the last jump either, which I kinda figured she might have left when I tried to dial her number in the science department and ended up texting Tony for twenty minutes while trying to avoid getting eaten. Great re-routing work, Tranquility network.
[Yeah, anyway. Feelings jam over. Which is weird for Topher, but, well, IT'S GONNA GET SO FEELINGS JAMMY IN HERE IN A FEW MINUTES, YOU BETTER BRING BREAD. So he's saving it.]
And also, you'd think with all the people who get stuck on this ship, one of them would be a barber.
=> [action]
is she your ladyfriend]
You were texting Tony while we were being chased by those...things?
[Good priorities, Topher. BUT WHATEVER he's here now because time skips are convenient.]
I haven't found one yet, but there's got to be someone who knows their way around a pair of scissors, right?
[action FOREVER]
AND NOT IMPORTANT.
The important thing is that the brain machine console doesn't look like something gutted it and that there's a shiny new laptop sitting on top of it merrily running... some kind of fancy program, and EVERYTHING LOOKS SLIGHTLY MORE LEGIT.
And also cupcakes.]
Well, aside from hair and weapons-based problems being... Problematic, I guess... We, my friend, are way ahead of schedule. The ship saw fit to bestow me a good chunk of my imprinting equipment last jump. We are officially moving up! [This would be the moment when Topher throws his hand up for a high-five
and then stands there awkwardly, until it occurs to him that Wheatley probably has no idea what the hell he's doing.]
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It did? That's--that's brilliant, mate. What did it give you, exactly? Besides the laptop, that's...new.
[HE SORT OF SMILES AND STARES AT TOPHER'S HAND AND...Wheatley has no idea what the hell he is doing.
What are you doing.]
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1/2
touching, ugh
human germs
gross...
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THAT WAS... Terrible, actually. Excuse Topher while he takes a moment to doubt your commitment to sparkle motion. Ready. Here we go. DOUBT.
...And back to the glee.]
...Right. Okay. The laptop's not the only new thing. Remember how I said we needed specialized hard drives and how I wasn't sure if a regular hard drive would work for the crap we're trying to pull? [It's not like he's going to give you much time to think about that, Wheatley, so don't worry about it.] Well...
[And he pulls out what LOOKS TO BE... a hard drive.] This is an imprint wedge. An actual, honest-to-neuromod imprint wedge. My system's all specced out for these babies- no need to readjust the parameters. Once we get a chair outfitted with the rest of the tech, it's smooth hovering for you, amigo.
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Are those cupcakes tho...
At the very least, he knows a hard drive when he sees one, and perks up SUBSTANTIALLY at the wedge. THIS IS A HUGE DUMB GRIN.]
And it's safe? It's empty and everything?
[WOULDN'T THAT BE SUPER CONVENIENT...]
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[Edgeworth is going to lawyer us into a coma and then GLaDOS is going to eat us alive and grind our bones into dust
BUT
BUSINESS.]
Not bad for your first day as the big boss man, huh? [Yes, he's just accepting that. He's accustomed to deferring to British people and if it makes Wheatley feel important, OKAY THEN. No one cares about the CEO's, Wheatley. sry2say.
And the way Topher's holding his cupcake in some sort of mock toast would be, you know, funny... If Wheatley knew what a toast was. GOD TOPHER.]
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OBVIOUSLY IT'S FOOD but what kind. They look like a bunch of tiny cakes how cute IS IT CAKE...?]
Is this cake?
[He's just going to very tentatively take one. The toast is completely lost on him, sorry dude. But hey, you get to watch Wheatley versus food, which is bound to be incredibly scientific, if not a little bizarre, seeing as eight months ago he didn't have a mouth.
Hearing boss man makes him feel super important. That much is evident on his face.]
Right, about...me being in charge. She is...not going to be happy about that.
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...And oh yeah. That was the thing he wanted to... talk about.] The dragon lady's not happy about a lot of things right now.
[Like being called the dragon lady...
Topher actually looks at Wheatley while he's chewing thoughtfully, sort of examining him with new eyes. Sure, he looks like a tiny, freckled ginger nerd, but he was listening in on that argument. SO MUCH FREAKIN' ANGER, SKYWALKER. Which, unfortunately, means that for all that Topher is now horrified of ever making Wheatley angry (more than he was before), he now has to find a nice way to tap dance over his trigger buttons to find answers.
Annnd swallow.]
Did you really put her in a potato?
no subject
He's a lot slower to try, mostly because he's never had one before. New food kind of makes him JUST A LITTLE WARY, so he watches Topher first, then does what he does and ventures a bite.
--Which he immediately chokes on because WOAH recently-acquired sense of taste was not prepared for that level of chocolate, and two, NOT PREPARED FOR QUESTIONS ABOUT THE POTATO oh my god Topher listened to all that.
He coughs, and then, mouth full--]
It was a potato battery, if you want to get technical.
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...I might be bitter, because she did sorta threaten to torture me to death after five minutes, but that's probably nothing compared to what you were dealing with.
[And here it comes...
No, sorry. First it's five minutes of babbling and leading up to the point.]
Uh... Look, we're friends, right? I mean, I consider you a bestie, because I'm human and profound, intimate bonds are part of the human condition, but I think, at this point, we can both totally admit that there's a-a connection here without it being a weird... squishy feelings thing. I trust you and... Hopefully, you trust me, 'cause if I'm gonna stick your brain on a wedge, I'd really like to get the trust falls over with.
no subject
The feeling of panic rising in his chest is almost instantaneous, because Topher's told him a lot, and he hasn't returned the favor, and now the secrets are coming out. And he knows he feels this way because Topher's right--they are friends, and Topher does trust him. The thought of losing that--of yet another person giving up on him--only makes the creeping anxiety worse.]
Okay, don't--don't tell me you believed what She said about me, because--I don't know if you've noticed, but She isn't exactly an unbiased source of information. Yes, I trust you-- [But can you ever really trust a human?] I'm letting you upload me to a bloody hard drive, aren't I?
[But Wheatley knows Topher doesn't have to believe Her, not entirely. Planting the seed out doubt is what She does best, and sometimes, that's more than enough.]
no subject
'Cause you might be a robot suffering a really bad out-of-body experience, but once you're back in that cold, metal shell, you're still gonna be you, and we're still gonna be friends when it happens. And take it from a guy who deals with the human version of everything I ever expected robots to be until I met you? You're whole. You're not just some thing designed for some ridiculously specific purpose, only to get tossed aside. You can function and think on your own. So if she's not lying? All she did was put a name to something. Big deal. We've all got our messed up baggage- hers, honestly, looks like it could fill LAX, at this point.
[And now that Topher has hemorrhaged emotions all over everything again and run out of cupcake to destroy, he turns to his laptop for a moment, focusing on the steady stream of data.]
And because it's your brain, you have the choice to tell me she's right or she's wrong. [Even when it makes sense that she's right with everything he's sort of gleaned from what Wheatley does and doesn't say- the fact that Wheatley can actively deny a part of himself is sort of impressive, and all Topher has to do is be aware of everything she said and take it into consideration, but not let it color his judgment- no one gets hurt, really.] But as for me? It's not gonna matter either way. You're just... Wheatley. Full stop.
no subject
And even though the entire point of the speech is to reassure him that it doesn't matter what he's programmed for, he knows it does matter. How can it not matter? He's a danger to himself and others. He almost blew up Michigan. It's the same sort of disbelief he has with HAL. You don't say these kinds of things to the kind of machine he is. You shouldn't.]
You--I knew it, you do believe Her, you--
[And the worst part is, Topher still has it wrong, overestimating everything about him, like he's an actual person who isn't locked into one specific purpose, who can grow and change and learn, someone who's not doomed to make the same self-destructive mistakes again and again and again--mistakes like he's making now, because he can't stop lying about it.]
I told you not to--You want to know who else believed Her?
[The idea of someone knowing what he's built for and not caring, to say I've figured out what you are and it's okay I won't give up like the rest of them just doesn't compute. People don't think that way. When the one person who never gives up ever gives up on you, what does that mean for everyone else, the people who aren't pathologically tenacious?]
Chell believed Her--believes Her. [It's hard to mask the contempt in his voice, even as he turns away and leans heavily against a table.] Told her the same things She said to you. We were partners, spent all this time escaping and nearly made it, too, and then She says a few things and changes her mind right in front of me.
[For a moment it looks like he might get violent with the table, but he unclenches his fist, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to fight back the anger, shoulders heaving as he takes a deep breath and chokes on the words, like forcing them out is somehow physically painful.
That cupcake is toast.]
Because it makes sense, doesn't it?
no subject
That went.
Not good.
For a moment, panic seizes him, because while there shouldn't be any fear associated with someone so small and kind of useless, Topher's had to sit and listen to him get angry, and it's a little terrifying. His first instinct is to go hide behind something until Wheatley cools down, but he stands still- frozen, more than anything- and just sort of takes it.]
I don't. [Which is a lie and he knows it and he hates that he's reduced himself to lying over and over, but it can't be a lie if he doesn't want to believe it. Or he wants to believe the best of it, because he pathetically believes in people.] I think she lost all her points when she told me she had plans to torture me to death slowly for absolutely no reason. Maybe that's not a dealbreaker for Mute Girl, but it is for me.
Just... [He stops. Feelings are obviously not computing to Wheatley's robot brain and any further attempts to console him through ranting about friendship and how he believes him, because he doesn't give up on people aren't going to work. He wouldn't have given up on Boyd if Boyd hadn't of killed Bennett and it became necessity to take him down. If Bennett had survived, if Boyd had come out of it, realizing he was wrong... God, Topher would have taken him back in a heartbeat, because he's not good at this and there's only so many people he can make connections to... And if that connection happens to be to a tiny robot who can't comprehend the idea that unconditional bromance is a thing that exists... Different tactic.]
If I believed her, I wouldn't be here right now. I wouldn't have asked. [Those are facts. Robots like those, right?] So just... Just forget I even did that. It's not my business.
[He dares to get closer, plants his hands on the table right beside him, and in one final act of actually proving he trusts him, bites back his fear- because it's not fear that a dumb robot will fuck up the ship that motivated his refusal before, it was fear of losing a friend- and bridges a topic he actually knows will make him happy.] So I was thinking about your plan... The one about going into the ship. I might be able to make it work.
no subject
But Topher knows, now, and Wheatley knows he knows, and even though he keeps saying it doesn't matter, it does. It matters. Those two little letters will always be there, in the back of his mind, whether they want it or not.
For an instant he considers coming clean, confirming his real designation, not the fake-human name he tries to pass off as his own, telling his side of the story. But his side of the story is Her side of the story--the only time She's brutally honest is when the truth is worse than any lie She could possibly churn out.
It's another minute before he realizes he's just about pulverized the cupcake, grosssss. At the very least, looking for a rag seems to blow off some of the steam.
He swallows hard, nods, and tries not to look angry, even if he feels very, very angry.]
Fine. Already forgotten. [But it's not, it won't be you can't trust humans, Topher knows now, and it's all he'll think about when he looks at you.]
What's the plan, then?
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He slumps against the machine, letting out a long breath.] I can repair wedges fine- having those here takes a lot of the guesswork out of this. If we get you back in your body and plug you into the ship- even if it goes wrong... We could still get something. The last guy who tried to talk to the ship ended up in medbay, though, so... the chances that it's gonna be painful are really high. But it's doable... If that's what you want.
no subject
Someone else trying to interface with the ship is news to him--and not the good kind.]
It's different. Humans can't talk to us like other computers do. Probably--probably didn't know what he was doing.
[He scowls, considering, because he doesn't know what he's doing, either. It takes him a second to realize that he has news, too.]
I hired Netherlands to, ah. Liberate a chair.
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