Anon from above here. Not quite following your prompt, OP. Hope you don't mind.
~:~:~:~:~:~
He thought it a side effect of the Tripto. Or maybe he was just staying in too long.
(Wouldn't be the first time I started seeing things because of this fucking machine.)
The blond man to Norman's right wasn't paying much attention to him, humming tunelessly to himself as he leaned over the bar to look at the alcohol. They were the only ones in the room, though he'd given his “order” to the waiter and that AI should've been behind said bar going through the motions of mixing said fake drink.
Norman continued to run his fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, watching the man finally pick up a bottle of what appeared to be wine. The agent raised an eyebrow; by what he could see of him, Norman would've bet the strange AI to be programmed to select something along the harder liquors. The blond frowned at the bottle, generous mouth pulling down like the it had somehow offended him.
(Why'd you pick it up in the first place--)
The thought trailed off to shock - the bottle in the AI's hands flickered, bits seeming to flake off it in shiny fragments as it changed shape. Norman's jaw dropped, reaching his gloveless hand up to rub at his eyes under the glasses, worried that his dismissed thought of being in too long was behind the glitching.
(No blood...so--)
The AI himself flickered the next second, this time the fragments accompanied by what appeared to be code and odd swirling patterns. Norman saw a very different shape take the man's place; something tall, white, and had a splash of red about his (his?) waist. The agent jerked up and back, knocking the bench over as he put some room between himself and the glitching AI.
The sharp bang of the toppled bench startled the AI. The figure whirled, dropping the bottle and crouching low. As the glass shattered on the floor, Norman could now see that the white shape was in fact a robe of some sort, complete with low hood that practically covered the AI's face, and -
(Fucking shit! Is that a sword?)
The AI lunged, leaping over the plush chairs between them. Norman barely had time to think, to reach for a gun that he didn't have (because he took it off while in the office and never fucking needed one while in the ARI), and then the freaky AI was tackling him. The force of it knocked Norman over the toppled bench, and his head cracked against both floor and part of the wall. Amazingly, the ARI hadn't been knocked off.
Dazed, Norman attempted to blink away the white flooding his vision, feeling a hand press threateningly on his throat while another fisted in his shirt. He briefly saw underneath that white hood - of glaring gold eyes, a scarred lip, and dark heavy stubble. Then the AI fragmented again, more like static this time, before the shape seemed to snap back into the form of the original blond.
Now, now Norman struggled. As he tugged viciously at the hand cutting off his air, his other arm pulled back and swung at the AI's head. His fist connected with a sharp pain, but the AI just seemed to shrug the blow off. Norman struggled further, felt more than heard the AI curse as he bucked underneath the heavy weight. The agent was rewarded with his own blow to the head, and more stars sparked across his vision.
Gasping and desperate for air, somehow Norman was able to shift a leg to knee the AI in the gut, twisting as he did so. This rolled the AI into the bench, the blond grunting from the impact and loosened his grip. Norman curled in and shoved out with his legs, catching the blond in the gut and shoving him further away. Gasping for air as he scrambled to his feet, Norman sidled along the wall, carefully putting more distance between them.
But the AI was still on the floor, arms curled around his stomach as he gasped himself. Norman stared down at the man as he dropped into a defensive crouch. Better to be ready if he was attacked...again--?
(He – he fucking—the fucking AI---it--he attacked me! How the fuck--?)
Fill: Glitch 1/??
~:~:~:~:~:~
He thought it a side effect of the Tripto. Or maybe he was just staying in too long.
(Wouldn't be the first time I started seeing things because of this fucking machine.)
The blond man to Norman's right wasn't paying much attention to him, humming tunelessly to himself as he leaned over the bar to look at the alcohol. They were the only ones in the room, though he'd given his “order” to the waiter and that AI should've been behind said bar going through the motions of mixing said fake drink.
Norman continued to run his fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, watching the man finally pick up a bottle of what appeared to be wine. The agent raised an eyebrow; by what he could see of him, Norman would've bet the strange AI to be programmed to select something along the harder liquors. The blond frowned at the bottle, generous mouth pulling down like the it had somehow offended him.
(Why'd you pick it up in the first place--)
The thought trailed off to shock - the bottle in the AI's hands flickered, bits seeming to flake off it in shiny fragments as it changed shape. Norman's jaw dropped, reaching his gloveless hand up to rub at his eyes under the glasses, worried that his dismissed thought of being in too long was behind the glitching.
(No blood...so--)
The AI himself flickered the next second, this time the fragments accompanied by what appeared to be code and odd swirling patterns. Norman saw a very different shape take the man's place; something tall, white, and had a splash of red about his (his?) waist. The agent jerked up and back, knocking the bench over as he put some room between himself and the glitching AI.
The sharp bang of the toppled bench startled the AI. The figure whirled, dropping the bottle and crouching low. As the glass shattered on the floor, Norman could now see that the white shape was in fact a robe of some sort, complete with low hood that practically covered the AI's face, and -
(Fucking shit! Is that a sword?)
The AI lunged, leaping over the plush chairs between them. Norman barely had time to think, to reach for a gun that he didn't have (because he took it off while in the office and never fucking needed one while in the ARI), and then the freaky AI was tackling him. The force of it knocked Norman over the toppled bench, and his head cracked against both floor and part of the wall. Amazingly, the ARI hadn't been knocked off.
Dazed, Norman attempted to blink away the white flooding his vision, feeling a hand press threateningly on his throat while another fisted in his shirt. He briefly saw underneath that white hood - of glaring gold eyes, a scarred lip, and dark heavy stubble. Then the AI fragmented again, more like static this time, before the shape seemed to snap back into the form of the original blond.
Now, now Norman struggled. As he tugged viciously at the hand cutting off his air, his other arm pulled back and swung at the AI's head. His fist connected with a sharp pain, but the AI just seemed to shrug the blow off. Norman struggled further, felt more than heard the AI curse as he bucked underneath the heavy weight. The agent was rewarded with his own blow to the head, and more stars sparked across his vision.
Gasping and desperate for air, somehow Norman was able to shift a leg to knee the AI in the gut, twisting as he did so. This rolled the AI into the bench, the blond grunting from the impact and loosened his grip. Norman curled in and shoved out with his legs, catching the blond in the gut and shoving him further away. Gasping for air as he scrambled to his feet, Norman sidled along the wall, carefully putting more distance between them.
But the AI was still on the floor, arms curled around his stomach as he gasped himself. Norman stared down at the man as he dropped into a defensive crouch. Better to be ready if he was attacked...again--?
(He – he fucking—the fucking AI---it--he attacked me! How the fuck--?)
“What the fuck is goin' on?”