ataraxion | 007 [AUDIO]

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There is a certain amount of relief in someone outside of Aperture knowing his relationship to Her, if only because he can talk about it--not the specifics, of course, but enough. Still, he snorts a little bitterly, because no, Topher doesn't understand how horrible She really is, and it's almost laughable for him to think he does.]

You weren't the one plugged into Her, mate.

...Okay, so I don't... Have that. But seriously- I actually feel worse for you. And she had the nerve to think that would put me on her side. "Oh look at me, I'm big and scary and monotone, and I had a... little British guy plugged into me- my life is suffering."

[Yes, it's so easy to mock her now that she's... elsewhere.]

I might not get the scope of her... Essential her-ness, but... [Shrug]

[Surprisingly, he doesn't seem to have anything to say to that. It' s not the best segue into the other thing he's been meaning to talk about, but it's good enough.]

I ran into Doctor Saunders.

[SPEAKING OF DRAGON LADIES... Wow. That threw him off a little.]

...And you... didn't turn into stone. She has mellowed.

She is...terrifying, I'll give you that. Not as terrifying as my lady problems [because this is definitely a contest], but sufficiently frightening.

She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, which is good news for you, I suppose.

Saunders is a cakewalk compared to... That. She's more like Chell, except instead of self-inflicted muteness, she has... that tragic problem with her face.

[And now it's Topher's turn to be surprised.]

There wasn't much else she could've told. [Oh, so that's what it's like to be completely honest and have your stories add up.] Unless she started making stuff up or threw in that time she snuck into my room and tried to-

[...And that is the point where Topher shudders, makes like Goyte, and cuts himself off.] And that's not something you wanna hear about- anyway.

[COUGH] If I could take responsibility for her being terrifying, I'd... apologize for it. She's actually really good with people... Just not... every kind of person. [She's good with... actives. Basically.]

[That is a thing Wheatley would not know about. Obviously.]

I mean, she was sort of vindictive about it, but I didn't get the impression she was going to kill you. Or me, for knowing about it. So that's...good.

[TOPHER telling Wheatley that doesn't want to hear about something means he definitely wants to hear about it.]

She snuck into your room and what?

[STORYTIME STORYTIME]

Her middle name is vindictive. But she's far from a murdering psycho... [...Paaause as he... angrily dredges up THE WORST SUPERFICIAL MOMENT OF HIS LIFE.] More like a... 'Take your biggest fear and leave a ton of the little vermin in your cabinets' psycho.

[LOOK AT HOW MANY SHADES OF RED TOPHER'S TURNING NOW.] I, uh... Iii... [You're gonna regret this, Wheatley.] She may have snuck into my room while I was sleeping and completely vulnerable and not in the least bit prepared- if I had wanted to, which I didn't- with the intent to, uh- that is... The act of a, uh- intimate nature.

[Because just saying SHE TRIED TO HAVE SEX WITH ME was way too hard.]

[NO REGRETS JUST AWKWARD STORIES ABOUT HUMAN URGES WHEATLEY BARELY UNDERSTANDS]

What, like--

[Hang on, processing. Maybe he gets it? No, he doesn't get it.]

Sorry, I don't--she what?

[SPELL IT OUT FOR ME, BRO.]

[Sadly, it would take someone really fluent in Topher to understand that hot mess of flailing. Sex and Topher Brink are not best friends.

So he just turns... more red.]

You know when a man-person and a woman-person really like each other or, in some cases, when a woman-person is a lunatic with misplaced ideas about what her programming's supposed to entail and the man-person is her unsuspecting programmer... They... [And he sort of entwines his fingers, like THAT is going to make it easier to understand.] Not that... any of that actually happened, but...

[The. Most. Helpless. Look.]

[I am a robot and what is this

He sort of tilts his head JUUUUUUST a little bit, as if that's going to help him understand what happened between the two.]

I'm sorry, I don't know what this-- [and he sort of tries to mirror whatever the hell Topher is doing with his hands, to limited success] is supposed to be.

Obviously something traumatic.

[Y U DO THIS, BRO.]

Sex! [He sort of blurts that out like it's the WORST WORD, which is pretty funny, considering this is a guy who designs imprints for ELABORATE SEX FANTASIES.] That thing... That... Yeah.

And BTW, it was a little bit traumatic. Guy's asleep and- [He makes a guuuuh noise, because GOD SAUNDERS WHY.] Not an experience I want to actually repeat any time soon.

[It's hard to tell whether he means almost-sex or getting molested by Saunders.

POSSIBLY BOTH. He made out with a girl once AND HER HEAD GOT BLOWN OUT ON HIS SHIRT. FOREVER BONER-KILLER.]

Edited 2012-07-20 06:36 (UTC)

[It's like he thinks the word itself will give him cooties. Also guess who is misinterpreting this conversation entirely.]

Oh my god, with her!? She's terrifying!

[TOPHER WHY WOULD YOU

WHY WOULD YOU EVEN]

That's disgusting. No offense.

Edited 2012-07-20 06:46 (UTC)

[This is Topher wishing he could go crawl in a hole and DIE.]

Hey, she came onto me while I was asleep. I shot her down. I wasn't interested and- and she dropped rats on my head... Not at the same time this was going on, but if I had ever been interested in sleeping around with a Doll, it wouldn't be with one who drops rats on my head and tries to do... that when I'm not even conscious.

[If Topher flails any more than he is now, he's going to take someone's head off.]

[Ugh, gross gross GROSS you awful gross humans and your awful gross functions and the fluids and the swapping fluids and the augh god why

Are you ready for this, Topher

Wheatley is going to use his hands and it's going to be really weird

He is going to take his index finger and JAB IT IN YOUR DIRECTION]

You are not allowed to say anything about Chell and myself, ever again.

[....BABY'S FIRST REAL HAND GESTURE.

Hold on. He has to... blink back the WOW, HE REALLY DID JUST DO THAT shock.]

Right. [Most awkward laugh] So no more... God, how many of those jokes have I made? Psycho ex-girlfriend, break-up gone wrong, the Sleeping Beauty bit... [No amount of grinning will change the fact that he's surprisingly nervous. HE REMEMBERS THAT TIME WITH ADELLE AND MS. LONELYHEARTS....] Uh. Yeah. Consider them never mentioned again.

[No, but really, Wheatley. You just gestured. That's important.] That was, like, the first time I've even seen you use your hands for anything other than... picking things up.

[He notices these things, because when you FLAIL LIKE A WINDMILL, you notice when no one else does it ever. It's like realizing when someone doesn't blink as often as they should and you spend the rest of your life watching for it...]

Edited 2012-07-20 07:39 (UTC)

[He seems confused for about half a second, then looks at his hand, and then jabs it at Topher a few more times, FOR GOOD MEASURE.]

It's for emphasis. I am--I am emphasizing the fact that you're not allowed to imply those sorts of things about me and Chell any more, because you and Claire and augh, you humans, it's all you ever think about, you're just--

[He sort of realizes Topher's implication about halfway through another jab, and COUGH. Hand goes back down, like it never even gesticulated.]

Ridiculous.

[Topher doesn't know if he's amused or terribly offended.]

Ease up there, Hombre. Considering I couldn't get the words out, I am a cut above most humans, but I agree the fixation.... on... that is everywhere. And, apparently, will goose you in your sleep- let us not forget the part where I told her a world of no and no deed was done. Still. No more cracks. May your robot virtue remain pure.

[Because as much as he joked about that... yeah. That'd be weird.]

[WHY CAN'T WE HAVE BOTH!?

Yeah that's enough talk about sexytimes, it's gross just thinking about it.

And there are still more important things to talk about, maybe. One last important thing that he's probably going to be incredibly vague about.]

You said, before. That what you did back home was meant to help people. [He sort of has an idea, but MORE DETAILS NEEDED.]

How, exactly?

[That is impressively vague.

Topher proceeds to make his hair look more like a disheveled wreck by ruffling it and goes to... fiddle with something on the laptop.] If you wanna be blunt about it... I reprogram them. Fix the stuff in their heads that makes them not... work right. Like say a person had chronic depression. Antidepressants are a quick fix. The ideal situation would be to rewire the brain so whatever neurotransmitters aren't functioning right fixed themselves permanently. That sort of thing. It's the same thing people do to computers, but a computer won't develop schizophrenia if you cross the wrong wires.

[Hope...fully. Meeting GLaDOS and Wheatley has sort of changed the way he views computers.]

[He nods along, eyes on the floor--Topher doesn't know it, yet, but it's exactly what he wants to hear, especially given recent revelations.

The plan is still a little out of his realm of understanding, but if one thing is for certain, the thoughts that bounce around in his head are starting to coalesce into a very, very, very bad idea.

It's one giant bad idea made up of smaller bad ideas that may or may not include screwing with his programming an enabling a potential Topher backslide. Not that Wheatley would know a bad idea from a good one.

He does understand, however, that what he's about to say sort of indirectly admits a few things that he's been fervently (and sometimes violently) denying, and he starts inching towards the general direction of exit, as if preparing for an easy getaway.]

If I told you--told you in complete confidence, by the way--

If there was something in the programming of a hypothetical computer that sort of--I don't know, if it--If it had protocols, or something, that...prevented it from doing certain things, or--or from functioning optimally, it's the same sort of problem, right? Like a virus, you said. And you're the guy who goes in there and gets rid of it. It works the same way.

Edited 2012-07-20 20:29 (UTC)

[Topher freezes in front of the laptop, fingers poised over the keys in mid stroke, while some bit of code just sits there waiting for the rest of the command with the occasional obnoxious bing. He sucks in a breath, because while the conversation has been gracefully steered away from that and Topher was content to forget about it, it's coming back around and he doesn't really know how long he can argue for the sake of squishy human feelings before Wheatley completely loses his shit on him.]

Complete confidence. [Topher may not always be good at keeping secrets, but he's kept them where it counts- when it might hurt another person, like Sierra or Echo? That's when he can keep his mouth shut. And the fact that he knows- suspects, really- and has suspected that there's something weird in Wheatley's programming the whole time he's known him, even before it occurred to him he wasn't so bad- a glitch, a corruption that just led into a natural adaptation of the code... God, he doesn't want to believe that someone would just program a robot to be stupid... Yeah, he could keep that a secret.]

I do believe in patient-doctor confidentiality. [That gets him to turn away and face Wheatley, crossing his arms over his chest and just listen.]

Yeah. Same thing, basically. I can hack a brain in my sleep- computer programming... It's not nearly as tricky. Every system's got a set parameter, but they can be changed and they're made to be changed. All I'd need to do is find the problem and get rid of it in a way that doesn't... crash the entire system. [Shrug] Simple. Compared to curing a paranoid schizophrenic, it's nothing.

Edited 2012-07-20 20:58 (UTC)

[This is, of course, the vague, backwards Wheatley way of saying FIND WHAT MAKES ME STUPID AND GET RID OF IT SO I CAN BE NOT STUPID. He can't bring himself to say that outright, especially not when he doesn't know, exactly, what it is that makes him an idiot.

Topher could do it. Topher could get in his head and fix him, delete whatever forces him to choose wrong, over and over and over, that line of code that makes it so he destroys absolutely everything he touches.

Maybe, after that, after it's gone, he'll be able to do something right, for once.

And he doesn't want to admit the truth, so Wheatley will predictably dance around it as much as possible, but it's the only way he knows how to confess without actually confessing, even if the vague implications are probably enough. He doesn't want to put his trust in a human (a human who believes Her, even if She's right) but it's worth it if he can get fixed, even if he's not technically broken in the first place.

This entire conversation, in fact, is just one giant testament to how well he does work--not that he realizes it.]

If I--if I have something like that, and--

I think I do, I think I might--I don't know, sometimes I do things, and I don't know why and then when it's all done I just--why did I do that, and it's wrong, it's not what I wanted, I...

[It's obvious he's trying very hard to put words to something he doesn't understand and can't quite describe--all those painfully specific mental blocks, the nagging feeling that his decisions aren't exactly his own, not in the way they'd be if he was really human.]

I don't even know if you'd recognize it if you saw it, I have no idea what my programming looks like, on a--on a monitor. I don't even know if this makes any sense, but...take it out, if you find it, okay? I can't--I can't think, I can't think properly and I don't know what it is.

Edited (html 8,() 2012-07-21 08:39 (UTC)

[Topher drums his fingers on his arm and bites the inside of his cheek, lost somewhere in thought. Well, there's... no way of really responding to that without greatly implying that he does have reason to believe that GLaDOS was right, even if he'd rather stubbornly pitch himself off a bridge than actually admit that for multiple reasons.

But Wheatley won't admit it and Topher has an idea of what he'd be looking for anyway, because it wouldn't really be that hard to track down. Besides, he has suspicions about Aperture and that makes it easier. You absolutely can't make a robot like Wheatley without drawing from a human brain in some way. Maybe it was an imprint they recoded and retooled until it stopped working like a human brain should or maybe they had other means, but Cave made a friggin' brain-transferring machine with scraps and that speaks volumes to the kind of work they did.

So if anyone knew how to fix him, he was the best bet. Any other programmer wouldn't know the first thing about a human brain and when it went on the wedge, it would be human until he painstakingly removed everything a robot wouldn't need. Something about that thrilled him, both because of a challenge and because someone needed him and only him. He could fix this. He could.

And Topher never saw four feet in front of his face, anyway, so all the ways this could go wrong never occur to him.]

I can fix it. It'll take some doing, but I can do it- no problem. [In some ways, he's sort of glad Wheatley won't admit the truth, because it means he's spared the irritated feelings-driven rant about how if Aperture was really going to program something to be stupid, they could have at least reprogrammed him when he stopped being useful as... what he was. The idea is sort of sickening to think about when he's come to think of Wheatley as a person, but it's not like Wheatley isn't asking him for exactly that.]

Just leave it to me. By the time we get you back in your body again, you'll be... functioning perfectly.

[WORST.

CHOICE

OF WORDS.]

[By this point, Wheatley's about reached his quota of vague secret things that people really shouldn't know about, and the effort of doing so appears to have exhausted him.]

Okay. That's--that's good. To know.

[THAT SURE IS A LOT OF WORDS. There's the faintest hint of agitation on his face, like he's just realizing that he shouldn't have said all that why did he even say that. It occurs to him that Topher plans to do an awful lot for him without explicitly asking for anything in return--it's so unlike humans, so unlike everyone on this ship (a ship where you can't get anything without a trade or owing a favor), he can't help but feel that much more wary.

For a brief moment, he looks almost scared.]

I have, to, um. [He sort of flicks his eyes in the general direction of leaving.] I have to go.

007 [AUDIO]

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