Recharge, Reboot, Reprogram [Wolfe]

I can't fight this feeling

I'm out of control

It was all black again. Black, and silent, and empty. Like the way it had been before the rest his body had woken up, and fought, and run. Only… he couldn’t wake up this time. Couldn’t move, couldn’t sense anything. Or… was he even awake now? He remembered losing his legs from beneath him and falling… Where…?

Then, a spark. Sight and sound returned, buzzing and flickering back to life. The little rings on his body, and the band on his visor, lit up in bright green— although he couldn’t see those. He could see a ceiling, though, and three windowless walls. And behind him there was a voice, feminine and unfamiliar. “Who does that?” she asked. Who does what? His fingers curled at his sides, but when he tried to sit up, he found the way blocked. Thick bands held him down, keeping him on his back on the slab he’d apparently been laid out on.

Not again. The cyborg lurched, trying to get free, but though they creaked in protest the bands held in place. I’m not going back. Where “back” was, he had no idea, but he wasn’t going there. Not again.

He bucked against his restraints a second time as a new voice spoke, also female. Only this time, the owner circled around to a point that he could see. Blonde hair, green eyes… and cat ears. Were he capable, he might have blinked in mild surprise. Magi. Was the other woman one, too…?

Stilling as the blonde one spoke, he stared right back while he processed her questions. Or— no, not questions. Demands. “Tell us what you remember.” The cyborg’s head tilted, reminiscent of a hound that did not understand a command. Remember… “… I don’t know.” His voice was flat and mechanical, alien to him. Wrong. Remember. “I was on a roof. Lost power, fell.” For a third time, he strained against his restraints, a bit less violently now. “Release me.

I can’t fight this feeling

I’m out of control

Though they creaked and groaned, the restraints didn’t give, and after a few moments longer, the cyborg ceased pushing against them. Better to save the energy for later, and perhaps if his captors saw that he had stopped, they might relax a little, make a mistake somewhere that would provide an opportunity… Or just coo and debate about his resemblance to a dog. Unsure of how to take that part of the conversation, he quickly righted his head and turned to face the first speaker— also a magi, as he had guessed.

He remained silent while the discussion continued, shifting now and then to look from one woman to the other. This was not a way he could have anticipated this interrogation going, if it could even be called that at this point. Despite initial impressions, the situation he found himself in wasn’t exactly threatening.

Or at the very least, it didn’t quite seem so until the dark-haired woman disappeared again. The cyborg stared after her for a while as the blonde one spoke, shifting a little to try getting a better look at where the other had gone. “Working on it.” Though he had no explanation as to why, something about the statement bothered him. Working on what? What were they doing to him?

His visor turned back toward the remaining magi, staring for a moment before he spoke again. “No.” He shifted again, looking between the blonde and the last place he had seen the dark-haired one. “What is she doing?”

I can’t fight this feeling

I’m out of control

With both magi out of sight, the cyborg was beginning to feel antsy again. Once more, his bonds creaked and groaned with the effort of containing him as he strained to see where both had gone, but from his angle he remained unable to spy them. That only made it worse.

The second the blonde one reappeared, his sights fixed intently on her, staring as she spoke. He wanted to know what they’d been muttering about, but was beginning to doubt his ability to receive a straight answer from either. Apparently, though, it had been decided that he was ‘alright’— not that he had any understanding of what that entailed. “What do you mean?” he asked, despite his misgivings about doing so.

Shifting to face the brunette as she reappeared, he stared long and hard while she spoke, turning over each word in his head until she uttered a phrase he’d never heard before. “… I don’t know what… ‘Edgelordian’ is.” Some kind of language, maybe? Although why she found it unfavorable, he had no idea— much like he was clueless as to what young boys had to do with it.

Before they could get into that, though, the other woman spoke up again. The cyborg seemed to perk up a bit as she mentioned releasing him, but settled back again as he considered her question. Where to go…? “I don’t know,” came his reply, following brief consideration. Even in coming to this city— if they were even still within the city at all— he’d had no clear sense of purpose. Just a need to get as far away from the place he’d awoken in as possible.

However, to make up for his lack of certainty, it seemed the blonde magi had something in mind. Fixing his visor on her once more he asked, “What proposition?”

I can’t fight this feeling

I’m out of control

No suspicious programs… The cyborg tilted his head. What would that be? What sort of programs? However, as neither magi answered, nor did he ask, the thing remained a mystery, soon to be discarded and forgotten for lack of interest. The fact that he didn’t have them was all that really mattered, in the end.

The blonde one’s proposition was far more important, besides. As ever, he listened silently, green-lit visor staring almost motionlessly back as the woman explained what she had in mind. She made a fair point— he was aimless, in an unfamiliar place, and having work would effectively solve both of those problems, not to mention several more. Bartending, like so many others, was something he knew next to nothing about, but that could be solved easily enough, and on an odd sense of instinct he got the sense body-guarding was something he was already more than capable of.

His head shifted subtly as he looked between the two, weighing pros against cons. From where he stood— or laid, rather— the former seemed to vastly outweigh the latter. Paid work, a place to stay, a purpose. After the pair standing over him finished speaking, the cyborg paused briefly, then gave a short nod. “Alright. I will work.”

While he waited for a response and his release from the bonds holding him, the cyborg fixed his gaze on the blonde one once more. She had said something earlier that had caught his attention, something that felt both familiar and not. “… This is Dagos?” Vague memories of dropping off the roof of a train and slipping deeper into a new city flashed in his head. She could easily have been lying of course, as he’d had no name for the place at the time, and it was entirely possible he’d been relocated, but Dagos sounded… right. .

I can’t fight this feeling

I’m out of control

The brunette’s grin and ensuing banter did not concern the cyborg so much as the subtle ‘click’ of his release did. The second the metal bands were out of the way, he rolled off of the slab and onto his feet, surveying the room now that he could see it in its entirety. The space remained gray and windowless, but now he could see a set of humming machinery sitting in the corner. The things used to examine and recharge him, perhaps…?

As banter came to a close, his sights settled on the blonde one, scrutinizing her in much the same way she was eyeing him, barring most outward indicators that he was doing so other than the angle of his head. The cyborg’s chin lowered slightly as she confirmed they were indeed in Dagos, presumably in a basement room of the club she mentioned.

“It feels… familiar,” he answered slowly, giving the smallest of shrugs. It wasn’t exactly a memory, but it seemed like something. What, he couldn’t say, but something.

The cyborg nodded quietly to the mention of a tour, and being set up with a place to stay, but almost appeared to hesitate when the question of what to call him was presented to him. While the options were certainly plenty, ideas were pitifully lacking. There was, however, one thing he knew for certain he wanted to establish. “Not a movie reference,” the cyborg stated, shooting a glance Kat’s way as he recalled her earlier “bright ideas”.

I can’t fight this feeling

I’m out of control

Though he remained mostly still, a few subtle twitches of the cyborg’s head betrayed that he was looking between the magi pair, staring at them as they were him. He wasn’t sure how he ought to feel just then. Tense, maybe? While he was up and on his feet, was he out of the woods yet? They seemed… amused, more than anything, but it was hard to tell how good that was.

“Thrill killer.” His gaze settled on the brunette as she made another suggestion, then flicked back to the blonde as though seeking some sort of confirmation. He did not recognize the name, but given the woman’s disposition so far, he was not surprised to find that it was a reference of another sort.

His attention drifted a bit while Kat and Clarisse bantered some more, eyeing the door, but not so much so that he was unaware when the conversation came to involve him again. Wolfe, the blonde had suggested. The cyborg’s head tilted curiously at that. Wolfe… Short, simple, not a reference. It would do.

“Okay,” he answered simply, nodding once. “Wolfe.” He had a name. It might take getting used to, but it was oddly comforting to at least have the sense of self it provided. He was Wolfe, and he was going to be working for the magi Kat and Clarisse who had found him. He had purpose.

Now, it seemed all he had left was to find the answer to one final question. “… What now?” Armed with a name and purpose, all he needed was a bit of direction.