The AI flickered again, this time the body shifting rapidly through two to three different forms. Norman could swear he saw a Civil War uniform, bloody at the waist, before the body once again snapped back to the blond. The AI uncurled, slowly pushing himself up and shaking his head as if to clear it.
“Stumbling in the dark,” the AI muttered, glancing up at the agent and rubbing a hand across his jaw. A rather deep bruise was forming on that pale cheek, and Norman frowned.
(What kind of AI is this?)
“Sorry, what?” Norman's words were clipped, tension winding higher in him as the flickering AI stood.
“What's going on,” was the reply, a hand waved dismissively at him as the AI reached for the bench and set it upright. “You're stumbling in the dark.” The blond sat heavily on the padded seat, leaning forward and running his hands over his face. Norman had finally maneuvered to put one of the upholstered chairs between him and the glitchy blond.
“I wasn't—I don't understand what you mean.”
“No, you wouldn't. But then, your kind never do.” The man glanced up at him and leaned back, bitter smirk twitching on his lips.
“What do you mean, my kind?” Norman practically spat this, his forced partnership with Blake having stretched his patience thin. The events of the Origami Killer case were still fresh in his mind, and the tone the AI was taking with him borderlined the tone the the sneering detective always had whenever they interacted.
“Just like that.” The AI was up now, stalking forward. Norman began to back up, belatedly realizing he'd positioned himself in the corner; the chair between them also blocking his path to get away.
“Brainwashed, ignorant.” The man flickered again, static fizzing and sparking as the AI disappeared for a brief second. Norman jerked as the blond rematerialized just in front of him, shoving the agent back against the wall and pinning him in the corner.
“Blind.” This last was hissed against the agent's ear, and a chill shivered its way up Norman's spine. He shoved the man away, hands fisting in the AI's shirts when the man stubbornly refused to back up more than arms length away.
“I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about!”
“Hah! Those glasses of yours are just proof of who you work for,” the blond spat at him, “Not many companies make VR stuff nowadays. Not like that. They have nearly all the control of that market.”
“The ARI?” That made Norman pause. Outside the FBI and the company that made the ARI interface, there were few people who really knew what the ARI was. And the few AI he'd used in the interface rarely acknowledged the system they were programed for, not directly at least. The waiter had been the only one programmed to recognize symptoms from overuse, one that would learn and grow as the user interacted with him. Which was why Norman sometimes got “lectured” on his Trypto addiction.
“Abstergo developed those pretty glasses of yours, and that glove. They don't hand those out to anyone outside their own.”
(Abstergo? That...pharmaceutical company?)
“Look you crazy AI, I'm FBI. I don't know who made my ARI, but I highly doubt it was a drug company.”
That earned the agent a laugh, and the AI shifted again, back to that white robed man. The sensation of the material shifting in his hands was...odd. A strange tingle that seemed to crawl into his hands and up his arms.
“Really?” the scar on the AI's lips stretched as he smirked down at Norman. The AI was taller than the blond form had been, and his voice had changed as well, far deeper in timbre and Norman swore the accent was Italian. “FBI? I suppose it was only a matter of time before they figured out how to take over that agency.”
“Who the hell are 'they?'” Norman growled, giving the white robed figure a shake. The odd feeling in his arms wasn't dissipating, and Norman was finding it hard to keep his grip on the AI. In fact, the sensation seemed to be climbing up to his shoulders. Frustration spiked, and the agent glanced down at where he gripped the AI.
(The hell--?!)
Instead of hands, all he saw was static.
I'm so sorry OP, for taking so long on this chapter! Clay wasn't cooperating, and just wanted to keep beating on poor Norman. Hope you like? And I'll try to be faster w/ the next one!
Fill: Glitch 2/??
“Stumbling in the dark,” the AI muttered, glancing up at the agent and rubbing a hand across his jaw. A rather deep bruise was forming on that pale cheek, and Norman frowned.
(What kind of AI is this?)
“Sorry, what?” Norman's words were clipped, tension winding higher in him as the flickering AI stood.
“What's going on,” was the reply, a hand waved dismissively at him as the AI reached for the bench and set it upright. “You're stumbling in the dark.” The blond sat heavily on the padded seat, leaning forward and running his hands over his face. Norman had finally maneuvered to put one of the upholstered chairs between him and the glitchy blond.
“I wasn't—I don't understand what you mean.”
“No, you wouldn't. But then, your kind never do.” The man glanced up at him and leaned back, bitter smirk twitching on his lips.
“What do you mean, my kind?” Norman practically spat this, his forced partnership with Blake having stretched his patience thin. The events of the Origami Killer case were still fresh in his mind, and the tone the AI was taking with him borderlined the tone the the sneering detective always had whenever they interacted.
“Just like that.” The AI was up now, stalking forward. Norman began to back up, belatedly realizing he'd positioned himself in the corner; the chair between them also blocking his path to get away.
“Brainwashed, ignorant.” The man flickered again, static fizzing and sparking as the AI disappeared for a brief second. Norman jerked as the blond rematerialized just in front of him, shoving the agent back against the wall and pinning him in the corner.
“Blind.” This last was hissed against the agent's ear, and a chill shivered its way up Norman's spine. He shoved the man away, hands fisting in the AI's shirts when the man stubbornly refused to back up more than arms length away.
“I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about!”
“Hah! Those glasses of yours are just proof of who you work for,” the blond spat at him, “Not many companies make VR stuff nowadays. Not like that. They have nearly all the control of that market.”
“The ARI?” That made Norman pause. Outside the FBI and the company that made the ARI interface, there were few people who really knew what the ARI was. And the few AI he'd used in the interface rarely acknowledged the system they were programed for, not directly at least. The waiter had been the only one programmed to recognize symptoms from overuse, one that would learn and grow as the user interacted with him. Which was why Norman sometimes got “lectured” on his Trypto addiction.
“Abstergo developed those pretty glasses of yours, and that glove. They don't hand those out to anyone outside their own.”
(Abstergo? That...pharmaceutical company?)
“Look you crazy AI, I'm FBI. I don't know who made my ARI, but I highly doubt it was a drug company.”
That earned the agent a laugh, and the AI shifted again, back to that white robed man. The sensation of the material shifting in his hands was...odd. A strange tingle that seemed to crawl into his hands and up his arms.
“Really?” the scar on the AI's lips stretched as he smirked down at Norman. The AI was taller than the blond form had been, and his voice had changed as well, far deeper in timbre and Norman swore the accent was Italian. “FBI? I suppose it was only a matter of time before they figured out how to take over that agency.”
“Who the hell are 'they?'” Norman growled, giving the white robed figure a shake. The odd feeling in his arms wasn't dissipating, and Norman was finding it hard to keep his grip on the AI. In fact, the sensation seemed to be climbing up to his shoulders. Frustration spiked, and the agent glanced down at where he gripped the AI.
(The hell--?!)
Instead of hands, all he saw was static.
I'm so sorry OP, for taking so long on this chapter!
Clay wasn't cooperating, and just wanted to keep beating on poor Norman.Hope you like? And I'll try to be faster w/ the next one!