Return of the Guardian

[command_dot_com]

For the past few cycles everyone's been waiting on a sort of bated breath about this. The recompiler has been checked no less than five times over to make sure nothing could go wrong with it. It stands ready, a cylindrical casket with a transparent cover, the interior padded for the comfort of the returning sprite.

For the past few cycles Dot's been on bits and bytes worrying if this will work, and is now standing nearby, out of the way of the debugging duo as they get to work. Now, all they can do is hope it turns out all right.

Comments

[l33t-mouse.livejournal.com]

Mouse, Hiro, Barbara and Phong have been over Bob's code with a deep scan. And Mouse herself worked on patching it up. Normally, she has great confidence (bordering on arrogance) in her own skill. But this is her friend, not just some project, and he processes or gets deleted based on how well she did her work.

"Ready?" she asks Phong, who is the final authority when it comes to engaging the recompliler.

[nofileext]

"I suspect we are as ready as we are ever likely to be," Phong sighs.

[nofileext]

The lead medic nods. She takes the datapad full of code from Mouse and places it carefully in a recessed rectangle atop the device.

"Engaging recompiation... now."

[mendanddefend_archive]

The process, as one might expect, looks like the decompilation in reverse. A stream of particles spirals out of the underside of the datapad, coalescing into larger shapes until Bob is whole again.

The scars on his face and neck are gone, and his hair is a dark, even gray; other than that, he looks exactly the same as before.

[command_dot_com]

He's in one piece, and the scars are gone. Dot let's out a sigh of relief at that, but is the Bob she knows back, for good?

"Bob?"

[l33t-mouse.livejournal.com]

Mouse, feeling a knot at the back of her throat, checks the readouts. "Vital stats are within nominal parameters," she says, but she thinks it's only so many words to Dot. Personally, Mouse is not going to think everything's okay until she sees Bob moving and talking.

[mendanddefend_archive]

The first thing he becomes aware of is the sound. Footsteps. Humming machinery. Familiar voices.

Scans show three sprites and three binomes in the room. Formats COMMAND.COM, Secretary, Hacker, Medics. Various diagnostic machinery, all in good working order. Some kind of fault in the lighting system...

He stirs and opens his eyes. The world is a blur of color and light, incomprehensible. Wait, no it isn't. He knows that face.

"Mph... wha...?"

[command_dot_com]

"Bob? ...can you hear me?"

Dot's going to leave nose prints on the glass if she hovers any closer.

[mendanddefend_archive]

Why is she talking to me? She never talks to me.

Bob does his best to ignore that odd thought as he looks up at the familiarunfamiliar face. "Dot... you're okay..."

[command_dot_com]

"..you're back. ...What's the last thing you remember?"

If he's missing any patches of memory... of if he's forgotten her proposal... ...He's back. That's the important thing, he's back and he's not going to go away again ANY time soon.

[mendanddefend_archive]

(Yes, it is possible, but I won't--)
(Stay with us, okay?)
(You're right. There is no other way.)
(You mustn't leave me. Not again.)
(Everyone get back...)
(We need you. I need you.)
(Then you're sure?)
(I love you. Please don't go.)
(Thank you, old friend.)
(Stay... marry me.)
(Glitch: download!)

"I... I'm not sure." A frown creases his brow. "I can't--"

[command_dot_com]

"You're going to be alright... Probably just woozy from being recompiled." ...If she has to propose to him again... That worried look just isn't going to leave her face until she knows he's going to be alright. "Do you remember... what I said to you?"

[mendanddefend_archive]

His frown deepens. "Recompiled? What happened?"

[command_dot_com]

"After Daemon used you to open portals, the errors in your merged code were so bad...it was either decompile and find and fix the bugs from the previous scans of you and Glitch... or lose you."

An all or nothing gamble.

"We're still not sure if we got all the errors from Glitch's code fixed."

[l33t-mouse.livejournal.com]

"That's right," Mouse interjects, now standing a few pixels from the bed where Bob's lying. "So don't go usin' yer Glitch powers 'till we've done a few more tests. I don't wanna have'ta do this again," she says sternly. Then she breaks out into a grin. "Welcome back, sugar. It's good t'see you."

[mendanddefend_archive]

He's having trouble focusing on what they're saying. Every word starts a new jumble of conflicting thoughts in his head. And every time the word 'Glitch' is spoken, part of him snaps to attention, awaiting orders--

And he it they finally understand.

"It worked." A huff of disbelieving laughter. "It actually worked."

[command_dot_com]

It worked, it really worked because they she has Bob back. And things can stop being insane.

As soon as the cover lifts up and Bob is out of that bed, he's going to be in a hug for his runtime. "Welcome back."

[mendanddefend_archive]

"No, I--it's--" He shakes his head and tries to collect his thoughts (his thoughts, spammit, he knows his own mind, doesn't he?). "The merge. It worked. It's here."

[nofileext]

Ah, what sprite can truly be said to know his own mind, my son?

Phong, satisfied that Bob is more or less operational, presses the button to raise the casket's lid. As though reading Dot's thoughts, he hisses, "Please be gentle with him."

He peers at Bob, somewhat concered at this odd statement. "What is here?"

[mendanddefend_archive]

"Glitch."

And even as he says the name, there's a part of him perking up and waiting for a command. That is weird.

It's my function to follow the operator's commands. I can't go against my code.
But I can't give commands to myself. That makes no sense.
None of this makes sense. What are we supposed to do, then?

[command_dot_com]

Dot pauses with her hand reaching for Bob's. Give her a nano to process that. "Glitch is a part of you..."

"...He's aware of what's happened? with Us?" Yes, it's capitalized for a reason.

[mendanddefend_archive]

...he was honestly not expecting that question.

"I'm not--wait." He closes his eyes, blocking out the unfamiliar input so he can focus. Sorting through memories that are his and not his...

Inside Bob's head, there is the mental equivalent of a jaw dropping.

I've been offline for how long??

"...we're kinda still working on that," he says sheepishly.

(He hasn't even tried to sit up yet. His body feels foreign, too large, inefficent.)

[command_dot_com]

Dot sits down on the edge of the bed, she's more thankful he's back...And more likely once he's well enough to stand to give him a piece of her processor on not telling her about something like the fragmentation effect.

"It's alright....take all the time you need to sort this all out."

[mendanddefend_archive]

"Thank you," he says gratefully. Truth be told, Glitch isn't happy about it either, and is making that fact known.

"How do you feel physically?" asks one of the medics. "Can you move?"

"I think so..." He flexes his fingers and toes experimentally, and then, slowly and deliberately, pushes himself up into a sitting position. Everything seems to be in good working order, although all that muscle shifting seems strange and unwieldy to Glitch.

[nofileext]

Since Bob is up, it is best to perform a surface scan. Phong, who can reach highest, checks out his head with the otoscope; one binome checks his BPM while another smacks his knees with one of those funny little mallets. Next, Phong brandishes a tongue depressor and commands him to say aaaah.