Who: Shy OT Ribbon/Fisher When: Jan 13th, late afternoon [Backdated] Where: Shy's room, White Block What: Shy has not shown up for for his shift Notes: After this scene
Shy kept replaying the scene in his mind, three different cameras allowing him to view it all in three different angles. He had pulled up information online, tried to put names, definitions and cold, cynical facts to what he had witnessed. Shy had found no shortage of terms for what he had seen: Rape, death, murder, fight, assault. So many terms and yet the impersonal, practical dictionary definitions were doing nothing to ease the uneasy knot that had formed in his stomach and had refused to leave him since the event.
Shy had needed time to process this, and as such, he had not bothered going to start his shift, which had been scheduled to start this morning. This was highly unusual, as Shy did quite enjoy his job and looked forward to it. He had refused to interact with any of his handlers or guards who came to try and fetch him, he did not even look at them or offer them messages as to what the problem was by projecting his thoughts onto the large screen in his room. He hated having to talk, and so he generally communicated with people other than Ribbon by putting his thoughts up on a monitor or screen in text format. Today, however, there was absolutely zero communication.
Shy was troubled, disturbed in a way he could not remember being. He had lived on Revolve all his life, yet this was the first time he had really witnessed a murder. Sure he had seen death in passing, but he had gone well out of his way to avoid really taking in the details. Violence was a flaw which organics had, and while he was fully fascinated by the minds of killers and the ways in which they disposed of their victims, watching a death unfold live before his eyes felt entirely different than looking at police photos or hearing accounts of a death match. And then there had been the thing with the female organic...
Shy closed his white eyes and forced his mental wall up tighter, as Computer was still trying to talk to him. He did not want to talk to Computer, Computer was a tech and could not help him deal with the strange world of Organics. He needed Fisher or Ribbon, needed someone to help him fully process what he had seen. Of course he was not going to ask for help, he was a god, after all, he was above needing help in such a way. And so he just sat, locked up inside his own mind, replaying the video clips again and again while attempting to understand the reason it troubled him so deeply. Emotions, it was the flaw of organics, and it appeared he suffered from this flaw himself, this fact only served to irritate him further. The security center could wait, could survive without him for a while while he sorted his programming out.