a small thing for @tiredfoxtf android!Joel AU
(Joel and Jimmy are both androids here)
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Before the Incident
"Hey, Canary."
Jimmy looked up from the vegetable bed he was tending and smiled at his visitor. "'Canary'? You're the one who's a singer, Joel."
"But you've got the plumage," Joel teased. He ruffled Jimmy's straw-gold hair as he passed behind him -- a feat only possible because Jimmy was kneeling on the ground. Jimmy playfully swiped back at Joel with his trowel, intentionally leaving plenty of room for his friend to smirk and dodge out of the way, thank you. Joel was freshly-polished and smartly-dressed, which meant he was supposed to be working and not out here visiting the City Gardens and getting topsoil all over himself. Recklessly regardless of this fact (or, probably, intentionally regardless, knowing Joel), Joel crouched by a nearby bed of decorative flowers and cupped his hand around the blossom of a vibrantly yellow Asteraceae. He was going to get pollen on him. "Maybe I ought to call you 'Sunflower' instead," Joel grinned. To an outside observer, he might've sounded flirtatious -- odd behavior for an android -- but that was simply how Joel was made to be.
Jimmy was made to be polite and friendly, and to interact with human visitors of all age groups; from the tiny children still learning about the world to the tired elderly who did not appreciate having their misconceptions corrected. And so Jimmy did not point out that the blossom was a Gerbera, not a Helianthus. It would have been impolite. Instead, he laughed and agreed, "Sure, that might be a better fit for me. And you could be, um..." He searched his memory banks for a green songbird. Nothing seemed to fit properly. Query: Green. Animal. Singing. "Cricket." No. That's not right.
"Cricket!?" Joel sputtered, his voice peaking.
"I couldn't think of a green songbird!" Jimmy stammered. "What's a green thing that sings?"
"Crickets are brown, Jim!"
"They're green sometimes!" Tettigonia viridissima. "...Maybe I was thinking of a grasshopper."
"You need maintenance," Joel huffed. He threw a handful of soil at Jimmy, which fell well short of actually hitting him, but Jimmy grinned and ducked away anyway. Joel was fun when he was being dramatic. "To be fair," Joel said indulgently, "my hair is mostly brown."
"But it's the green bits that you like."
Joel's smile froze, then faded, and his gaze turned downwards. Ah. It was one of those days. That wouldn't do.
Jimmy thought for a moment. "Maybe 'Nightingale' then," he offered in a softer tone. "That's a lovely singer."
Joel made a humming, uncertain noise. "It's a little long for a nickname..." He stood and started pacing in a mimicry of nervous energy. "Anyway, how are you? Anyone bothered you lately?"
"No one today," Jimmy lied smoothly. He turned back to the Daucus he'd been planting and pretended not to notice how Joel was scuffing his designer shoes on the grass and pulling at the sleeves of his shiny jacket -- things that his managers had dictated he wear. It must be awful to be constantly dressed up and paraded about like a doll. To have no say at all in what you looked like. It certainly seemed to bother Joel enough to make him rebellious about it.
No one cared what Jimmy looked like. They cared so little, in fact, that when a particularly irate visitor had gone after him recently and torn up his coveralls, Jimmy had had to mend them himself. Joel had smuggled him scrap fabric from his incessant tailor fittings to patch some of the holes. Now there were splashes of color in strange places. It made him look a bit clownish. Jimmy didn't like looking clownish. But the Garden supervisors wouldn't get him a replacement. Said it didn't impact his function, so it wasn't needed. It wasn't worth the effort. He wasn't...
Jimmy finished planting his row, gathered his tools, and stood to his full height. He was careful to hide the stiffness in his left arm, so Joel wouldn't see and get worried. "I wouldn't tell you anyway, if someone had bothered me," he said to Joel. "You'd go and get yourself into trouble about it."
Joel craned his neck up to scoff at him. "Me? Get in trouble? Psh. I never get in trouble."
"Right. Sure you don't," Jimmy grinned at him. "And how many times have you been to see your mechanic this month?"
Joel looked sharply away and didn't respond. Jimmy laughed quietly and started walking further down the path -- slowly, so that Joel with his smaller stride could keep up. Joel still didn't look at him, and Jimmy could could hear his cooling systems spinning up. Strange.
"What brings you to the Garden, by the way?" Jimmy asked, politely offering a change in topic. They'd reached the Fragaria rows, which should be just starting to fruit. "I know you're just across the road there at the music building, but it's business hours, right?"
"I'm...waiting," Joel answered with a grumble. He was staring at the plants. "Escaping. Marketing's made me stand in meetings all day while they argue about changing my look again. They're on lunch now. No one said I couldn't go for a walk."
That explained why Joel was so on-edge today. Of all the things Joel hated about his purpose, the poking and prodding and changing seemed to bother him the most. Jimmy wished that he could help him. Or at least ease the pain of it a little.
He felt guiltily lucky, in a way. Jimmy liked his purpose. He liked feeling earth under his hands and watching as the first green shoots pushed upwards towards the sun. He liked having a purpose, liked feeling that he was doing something important, tangible. Helpful. He would've liked it better if he'd had a choice about it, of course. If he was recognized and respected for it, and treated better than the rakes tossed into the back of the tool shed when the season was over.
Jimmy knelt down by the soil bed and started checking over the vines, pleased to see several of the tiny fruit-buds starting to appear. "Well, you're always welcome here," he said to Joel. "Any time you need to escape for a bit, or just complain about things, you know where to find me."
Joel knocked a fist against Jimmy's (uninjured) shoulder -- an expression of gratitude -- and sat down in the dirt next to him. His managers were definitely going to be upset with him. "I'd like that," Joel said. "Maybe I'll sneak in some nights and visit, keep you company so you don't get lonely." He said it as casual as discussing the weather.
Jimmy knocked his right fist against Joel's shoulder.
They sat in silence a while, Joel seemingly content to just watch Jimmy work. Jimmy went about his weeding and watering, checking for parasites. The weakness in his left hand only made him fumble once or twice, easy enough to pass off as clumsiness. He put a bit of soil on his tongue to analyze, to make sure the nutrient balance was still good. The leaves all looked healthy, strong and green. One of the plants at the end of the row looked a bit off, though. The fruits were coming in a bit misshapen. Jimmy examined them, and then the rest of the plant, checking for signs of rot or infestation. He couldn't see anything unusual. No molding at the roots, no discoloration in the leaves, though they were a tad wilty. Using his work knife, he carefully cut the smallest and worst-looking of the fruit-buds off the vine and stuck it in his mouth to run a chemical analysis. Sometimes people poured things onto the ground, around the roots, that could affect the yield of otherwise healthy plants. That might have happened...
Joel was staring at him.
Jimmy took the fruit out of his mouth. "Something wrong? What's that look for?" Joel didn't answer immediately, and the expression on his face looked strange. Jimmy frowned. "Joel?"
"Have you ever thought about it?" Joel asked, oddly. His voice sounded strange as well -- unsettled, somehow. "Have you ever wondered what it's like? To eat?"
Jimmy stared back at him uncertainly. "I can't say that I have...why?"
Joel continued staring at him, at his mouth, at the unripe strawberry in his hand. "You grow food. For humans. There's androids who are chefs, who make meals for humans. You and I could learn to do that. But we couldn't eat what we make."
"We don't need to eat," Jimmy said slowly, worriedly. "We get our energy in other ways."
"But haven't you wondered? Haven't you thought about what it would be like to- to mash something up with your teeth and your tongue? To swallow and feel it going down your throat? To have a-a stomach and to digest things--"
"Joel, are you alright?" Jimmy interrupted, concern rising rapidly.
Joel did not look alright. His eyes were too wide. One of his hands had crept up towards his neck. He looked haunted and starving, like the emaciated cat Jimmy had found hiding in the bushes last winter. He was still staring, but Jimmy wasn't certain he was seeing anymore. "We can't even taste things, not really," Joel said in what sounded like a frighteningly desperate whisper. "We just analyze them, like you did that berry." A moment of quiet. "Do you have a favorite fruit, Jim?"
Jimmy wasn't meant to have a favorite fruit. He wasn't meant to have a friend, either. And his friend looked like he might break if he didn't get an answer.
Jimmy thought about it.
"...Rubus idaeus," he admitted, whispering too. It felt like a dangerous secret. "They mold quickly, which is dangerous for humans, but..." He looked away from Joel's too-intense stare, down towards the soil. "It's interesting when the mold is just catching. One life starting to...consume the other, but you can't see it happening yet. You can only tell if you-... if you use the right instrument."
"It's cruel," Joel whispered lowly, harshly. "They make us instruments. Tools. Purpose-built. And we can't even enjoy the things they make us for."
Jimmy's sympathy and worry responses were mixing together into a mess. Joel was deathly still, unnatural even for an android. "You're overloading yourself," he warned, gently.
Joel didn't answer, again. So Jimmy reached over and carefully cupped the back of Joel's neck. Pushed gently at a particular spot and sent a short-range Query. And Joel let him through his firewalls.
Connection Established.
Jimmy Read him. Joel's emotional systems had gone terribly unstable. He was angry and despairing, and the reactions were feeding into each-other, looping and looping and looping. Jimmy prompted him to close the stuck processes. It took longer than it should have. "You've done something to your code again, haven't you?" he scolded, worried. "Your reactivity controls are all mangled. You've got to stop hurting yourself like this..."
"Why are you worrying about me?" Joel countered, "You're damaged!" He pinged at Jimmy's left arm, at the deteriorating motor systems and touch-sensors run raw. "Those components are nearly failing, why didn't you say anything? How long has it been like this!?"
Jimmy flinched. He'd forgotten that the connection went both ways and let Joel snoop on his systems. "It doesn't impact my function."
"The hell it doesn't! You work with your hands!"
"I have to get approval for every repair request." And they both knew Jimmy wasn't likely to get approval until that arm stopped functioning completely. "There's nothing to be done about it."
"Jimmy..."
Joel's emotions were staring to loop again, and again Jimmy had to prompt him to Stop before his instability got worse. For a while they just sat there and shared processing power, Jimmy helping Joel cool his emotions down and Joel prodding at Jimmy's motor control programs to try and re-route around the failing parts. It was the best that they could do for each-other. Joel couldn't make Jimmy's supervisors care enough for well-being to keep him from falling apart, and Jimmy couldn't stop Joel's managers from violating his sense of identity so much he started hurting himself for a sense of control. They couldn't protect each-other. At least they could share the load.
"You should talk with my mechanic." Joel sent a sent a contact file. "He can work around your contract restrictions."
"I've heard that promise before."
"He's different. He cares." Joel's absolute surety gave Jimmy pause. "He's..." And that was a *very* complicated spike of emotions, a spike that Joel clearly didn't want examined further. He started pulling away in a panic.
Jimmy dropped the connection instantly. He let his hand fall back, and turned away to allow Joel the privacy to gather himself. He went back to his plants, putting the fruit he'd cut into a pocket. He would need to request a supervisor come look at the struggling Fragaria. Hopefully they could coax it through the season, though realistically they might just uproot it. It would go into the composting bin and rot, and turn to mulch, and eventually be used to feed the next batch of seedlings. Decay was a natural process. Just another step in the cycle of life.
He felt Joel's fist against his shoulder and turned back towards him. Joel looked a bit embarrassed, but far more present and in control of himself than he had a moment ago. "I think my time's running out," Joel said. "Gotta head back."
Jimmy gave him a smile and an encouraging nudge. He wasn't going to press -- Joel would tell him about 'his mechanic' when he was ready. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
Joel stood and brushed himself off, and messed up Jimmy's hair once more as he walked off. Jimmy watched him go until he turned a corner towards the Garden exit.
He flexed his left hand a few times. Rolled the shoulder and bent the elbow. His movements weren't smooth -- his hand in particular still felt a bit stiff and jerky -- but he felt like he had a bit more control of his movements than before. It was functional, for now, and nothing hurt. That was enough.
He closed his eyes. Sat back on his heels. Took a moment to center himself. The breeze pulled at him, the sun warmed the soil, the sounds of the city were distant and muffled by the Garden's walls. If he'd had lungs he would have breathed and inhaled the scent of growing things.
He stood. Gathered his tools. Continued down the path, into the orchards, towards the back of the Garden. It was a beautiful day. There was still work to do.
Joel worried him. He wanted so badly, was so reckless and self-destructive in his pursuit of something that simply wasn't possible. It was a dangerous path. Jimmy was afraid he might lose him to it. But if he let himself think about it, let himself imagine what it would be like to breathe...he couldn't deny that the fantasy was tempting.
Jimmy looked up through the boughs of the orchard trees and past the walls of skyscrapers that surrounded the Garden, to the distant, dusty sky far above. Another tempting fantasy. Another thing that was impossible.
Joel wanted to be human. Jimmy just wanted to be free.
...Movement.
Jimmy's vision was pulled towards it and he was startled right out of his thoughts.
There was a human in the nearby apple tree. Sat on the lowest sturdy branch was a slight man with light-brown hair, wearing a bright red pullover. He was most of the way through eating an apple. "Can I help you?" Jimmy called up, incredulously.
"No thank you," the man answered around a grin and a full mouth, "I don't need any help."
"Could you get down from the tree, please?" Jimmy continued as politely as he could. He really did not need more stress today. "Before you hurt yourself? Or the tree? I'll go get a stepladder–"
"Oh, no need," the man replied. "I can get down on my own." He dropped the apple core to the ground, then dropped himself off of the branch, dangling by his arms for a tense moment. Then he fell the rest of the way to the ground, tucked into a roll as he landed, and came up dusting himself off.
"Thank you," Jimmy sighed. Now that the human visitor was safely grounded, he stepped towards the tree to examine its trunk for damage. "We'd really rather people didn't climb them. The trees. It's easier to damage them than people realize."
The man had the decency to look chagrined. "Ah...sorry about that, then." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I was hoping I could help you."
"You're interested in volunteering in the Garden? There's an application form at--"
"No, not the Garden. You."
Jimmy looked back, confused.
The man was suddenly holding some kind of…brochure? On the front of it was a picture on it of a computer screen with a mustache, and the words 'Personhood Initiative'. The man smiled at Jimmy, hesitant and hopeful-looking. "I was wondering if we could talk for a bit, if you have time? My name's Grian. What's your name?"
You know. At this point, yeah. Not clothes for performing to showcase his casing. Also some lore: basically to keep uniqueness (and because I don't want to deal with the idea of mass produced Joels) of every android, basically the main shell (body) is made first and then the head and the programming can be done individually on every single android. So basically, while being the only Joel that ever existed if he needed some spare parts it can be ordered from the factory.
I actually drew this first because I was feeling a little invested in some hurt Joel, but I am really tired and it takes too much brain power to figure out and I don't have much of those.
(Suggestive ish?) Android Joel anon again. Between lighthearted jokes and quips Tango finds himself geniunely stumped by the craftsmanship of Joel's circuits and construction. Lost for a better word, Tango can only breathlessly utter out "gorgeous". I imagine one of the easy to remove panels for maintance being the lower abdomen-pubic area, Joel is seated almost like at the OBGYN for inspection. But instead of being medical and uncomfortable, Joel feels almost revered. As Joel's cooling unit grows noisier, Tango looks up to see Joel shily covering his mouth with one hand and looking away, visibly blushing
ANON. I love this, I am thoroughly obsessed even. Thinking about this now. Like saying this was probably so natural to Tango to say that type of stuff about machinery that he doesn't reflect on it at all, instead becoming a bit concerned and obsessive that he might have broken something or provoked Joel's pain response so he takes his sweet extra time to not let his powers of observation unparalleled TM to miss anything and he is being extra delicate in Literally carefully rearrange Joel's guts. And in the meantime Joel goes more and more insane with every second Tango practically gets head into his inner parts of the shell. He can't help but look down on Tango located between his legs and record it for 'future revision' because the emotional response he is getting from this is literally unprecedented and he would like to find out what in the world is happening. But alone, where his sensors aren't being overwhelmed. Meanwhile Tango is losing his mind, because he cannot find any problem with Joel's circuitry, wiring or anything, but he still can hear the cooling system working overtime so he at this point has to rise his head to look into Joel's eyes and outright ask if something is wrong and if he needs a shut down. Joel, totally speechless and colour of a synthetic analog of blood is very visible on his face, quickly averts his gaze and shake his head in "negative". That's probably when the situation started to catching up with Tango and he realises the... position they are in. Which make him wish he had a cooling system too because his face felt like it was ignited instantaneously.
