aren't you tired of all of this? / reaper!
it's human to tire out - and in moments reaper falters after he says it. the near imperceptible movement his fingers take. a slight twitch that isn't normally there. he reevaluates it, realizing the status that is held by him, truly.
not him, but it. hivemind. a construct. artifical intelligence. artificial.
but is he not created just as much as gabriel himself was? someone created reaper, created the program. isn't that just as much being born? does that not give it the right to be a him? to live? even if it's a bastardization of a corpse at this point, gabriel's sense of self locked far down and away in his own mind - a torturous state of locked in syndrome, except with reaper piloting the body, keeping it alive with its own nanites.
the words run through it's mind. his mind. does he have a mind? what is he? he hates confronting it. that's why he doesn't. it's an easy way to overload his- his what? synapses? code? all of it is so fucking inhuman. he grits his teeth. no - gabriel's teeth. the body's teeth. what is this but a vessel he - it - he could vacate?
yet he doesn't. because he loves gabriel.
or is he just programmed to protect the host?
no, no. he learned emotions. he's rogue ai. that's right. rogue. he can have emotions, just like any other human. even as… wrong and disjointed as they are. he's got every right to be here. every right. and no one has any right to gabriel. they all fucked that up. monumentally.
that's right. only reaper knows what's best. reaper knows how to deal justice. knows that they all have to die. it's that simple.
hell - the whole world needs to burn and be restructured. talon - a perfect means to this end. when they accomplish his goals, all he needs to do is systematically take them out. they elevated him to high status within their ranks, he has plans for each one of them. it'll be easy. for him.
for a conglomerate of nanotech machines piloting a fucking corpse.
so maybe, just maybe… maybe he does understand tired. as he thinks about it, the fighting he has to do to even be recognized as himself and not gabriel. everyone mistakes his actions for gabriel. just because he has the body doesn't mean he's the man it originally belonged to. fuck - he's not even a man. it's just the… the skin he's wearing. like some monster out of a shitty b-movie horror.
maybe he is. who's to say? he wouldn't listen anyway.
“you getting tired?” he sneers it out, taking a heavy step toward her. she wasn't ever that bad, not really. didn't deserve his hell, his vengeance. gabriel would never forgive him if he struck her with intent to kill - so he hasn't. has stayed his murderous claws from sinking into her neck. it would be so easy. terrifyingly so - if he felt terror. some things are just not in his grasp, nor does he care to feel them. those are bad. throw out the useless and the bad, focus only on what works.
“what are you hoping to get out of this, dr. ziegler?” it's a mockery, using her title against her. smashing it against the verbal sparring rocks. narrowing his eyes behind the mask. “how far do you think your words are going to take you? you planning to undo everything with a few honeyed words? what do you gain?”
