veryintelligentsystem | PSL for cracked

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PSL for cracked_lens

The silo would only remain empty and private for so long, and then they would have to move on to make room. Like Jarvis had said, it was only a temporary solution, and so after a couple of weeks resting, orienting themselves, and finally arranging for transportation, along with the delivery of months' worth of dry rations, he and Bruce had relocated to the middle of nowhere, outside of Irkutsk just far enough that they could barely see the city skyline, and the city couldn't see them at all.

It was quiet out here, desolate, seemingly completely isolated, and perfect.

The Iron Legion put down the heaviest of the luggage, before powering itself down and standing beside the door like a statue staring straight ahead. Jarvis was looking over the front sitting room of the large cabin they'd found themselves in, wiping his fingers through the thin layer of dust atop one of the shelves.

"Untouched," he murmured, looking satisfied as he turned back to Bruce once he heard the man coming up the front steps. "We'll have to reconnect the electricity, but outside of that, it will be completely livable in no time at all. Trips into the city will be scarce at best. There are hot springs here as well, should you feel up to braving a slightly less private setting. Much of the tourist revenue here comes from the main springs, but there are other wells out of the general public's eye."

As he talked, Jarvis started to make his way around the room, opening a few windows. The wind was absolutely frigid, but they would need to air the place and shake off some of the dust before turning on the heat.

If anyone were to scan for them out here, they would find all instance of heat or telecommunications completely nil. The house itself may have been a simple cabin, but it was very well protected. There were a few very good reasons for Jarvis' choice to move them out here.

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"If you were unhappy, he'd smash everything to make it go away." That simple. He'd done some horrific things for Betty. Wanted to do more.

He kept rocking on his feet, just a small back and forth motion as he set out plates and bowls. The touch made him jump slightly, but then he looked back with a soft smile. "Of course. I have few enough friends that I won't throw one away because they care for me."

"Fortunately for both of us, it doesn't take much to keep me happy." He smiled faintly at that, picking a large box of pasta out of the crate holding a lot more of the stuff, then taking a handful and breaking it in half before placing it in the gently steaming water. He did that a couple more times, knowing full well Bruce's appetite when there was actually enough to go around.

A thought occurred to him as he prodded the noodles around with a wooden spoon, and he laughed.

"Imagine what the others would say...An AI suddenly afflicted with feelings. The teasing would never end."

Bruce kept half heartedly cleaning and putting things away, but the last statement made him laugh. Just a little bit.

"Afflicted, hm? I'm not sure afflicted is the word most would use. Surely it would be, to many, the sign of the ultimate progression of self. To be able to feel, rather than simply rationalise."

"There are many throughout history who would curse the emotions that come with being an organic thing. I find it enlightening, personally, but there are times when it is quite inconvenient."

He had nightmares. He remembered his death. He had a great many regrets, but he didn't let them hold him back. Bruce was right, though.

"I am glad to be able to feel. But I am still learning to process the new input alongside my original programming. There are aspects that I can't control. You could say that I'm not used to that."

"It's all those things." Enlightening, frustrating, wonderful, a curse, a blessing... He had complicated opinions on emotions. Especially these days.

Humans started as nothing but emotion and processing power and worked towards logic. Jarvis was coming form the other direction, a being of logic and thought working into emotions. he could try and imagine what it was like, but ultimately, he couldn't. He couldn't imagine not being angry. It was too alien.

In his chest, there was a soft growl and push. He made a soft shushing sound, rubbing a hand over his sternum. His time with the team had taught him to accept Hulk's presence in a way he couldn't before. And, ironically, gave him much better control over his monster by accepting it in some way.

"A loss of control is terrifying to anything. From fairly simple animals to creatures like you and me. Being out of control is frightening."

"I remember...the first thing I truly felt, when I awoke the first time in this body. It was fear."

Not unlike a child first learning how to process the world without context. He had all of that context, but there was still that terror. Thinking about it brought it back, but it was muted now.

"I want to learn to exist in my own skin. Activity helps. Having goals that don't require being still. Other parts of me can process it while I work."

"I think that's the first thing all of us feel... we just don't remember it, fortunately."

Bruce's first memories were all full of fear. Fear, then anger. The two were fairly closely tied for him.

"I'm sorry. Again. For my part in all of that."

Hulk growled and shoved against his chest, thumping for freedom, to smash for causing that fear. He felt his pulse on reflex, gaze casting down while he spoke. "What can I do to help that?"

Jarvis frowned deeply and laid his hand flat against Bruce's chest, his head bowed and angled so that he could look the other man in the face. He lowered his voice, hoping that Hulk was listening as well.

"You don't have to keep apologizing. I've already forgiven the both of you for it. I want to be able to do this for myself, though. All I'd ask from you is that you have patience with me while I blunder around trying to be human."

It took a bit of bending, Bruce wasn't tall and the way he hunched only tended to add to that.

When he did glance up, there was a hint of green in his eyes, but not anything that suggested he was losing control. Just a little bit, just him listening.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not great at being people either, so I won't hold you learning against you." He hesitated, then brought his hand up to cover Jarvis' on his chest. "Thank you."

Unlike most times that Hulk poked his head out in any way, there was no fear, just a small smile meant for both of them. Jarvis stood back upright and gave Bruce's shoulder another squeeze with his free hand, then drew away to prod at the pasta in its pot.

"Would you mind finding what you might like on this? I'm not sure how appetizing plain noodles are to you, but personally I would like them to have a bit more substance." He was teasing, of course, but it felt right to lighten the mood a little bit. He had, as Tony might have said, just made it weird. Now he needed to fix it.

"Mm, yeah." Bruce broke away, heading to rummage through cans and jars. "There's canned tomatoes and some dried herbs, I can make something out of that. Can you put a saucepan on the heat for me?"

This, Bruce could deal with easily. Get them fed on whatever there was, settled in to the house. He came back with the tin and packets and a car opener and started making a sauce.

Jarvis had a pan sitting on low heat by the time Bruce returned, and stood back to watch. He might have started getting...sort of alright at cooking in the time that he'd been walking around, but he knew that Bruce would be a lot better at feeding them both on what they had on hand, They could get more sent along eventually, but there wasn't much that they could order in bulk by way of fresh ingredients.

When the kitchen had begun to smell like stewing tomato, he finally left, hoping to move a few things that they'd brought along upstairs. He activated the Legion to assist, and started upstairs. He would be moving furniture around, making quite a bit of noise as he did so, while Bruce finished taking care of the food. He would need to sleep after the exertion, he knew that much, but that could wait until a more appropriate hour.

Bruce focused on food. Stirring, mixing, tasting to get the balance. He'd had to learn to fend for himself young and he had got really sick of packet food before he even reached college.

He listened to the noise, but kept his attention mostly on the pasta and the sauce. Jarvis would call if he needed anything–hopefully–and this was really the next step to getting settled in. Power on, water heating, food, then some winding down.

"Jarvis! Food's ready!"

He drained the pasta in the sauce, stirred and start pouring into bowls.

The racket ceased with the announcement, and one set of footsteps headed back down the stairs. Jarvis had finally removed the outer sweater he'd been wearing, and rolled up the sleeves of the much thinner one underneath. He glanced from Bruce to the bowls, taking one as well as a fork as soon as it was put down.

"Fantastic. Thank you," he said cheerfully, before moving to settle himself at the small table that was settled into the corner of the kitchen as a makeshift dining room. He paused, then headed back into the front room, retrieving a couple of bottles of the generic sports drink that had been stocked in the silo. It was better than just plain water, which hs didn't quite want to hazard just yet until all of the pipes had been flushed.

"When this is done, we should try and air some of the bedclothes. They're bound to be as dusty as the rest of this place," he pointed out before setting into his food, rather enthusiastic about a meal after a few days of not touching anything.

Bruce put water in the pan to stop it from sticking and then came to join Jarvis at the table. He gave a small nod of thanks at the drink and then started eating.

Not bad. Not with the time and what was on hand.

"Mm. Yeah, a good shake out and some time hanging for most of them will do it. They might be a bit musty, but it's all clean, at least." Which was really not his minimum requirement, sadly.

Jarvis gestured back toward the front door with his fork, taking a moment to clear his mouth of pretty edible spaghetti. "The porch railing outside will be good for that, at least. We can do that, finish getting the largest part of all of this put away, and then...I suppose we've earned a real rest, in a real house, wouldn't you say?"

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