27/3/20XX, 11:52pm
Mirage: great work guys!
Mirage: :heart:
Mirage: sounds a lot better now
Mirage: thank you Gabriel
V1: i think he’s asleep lmao
~~~
28/3/20XX, 12:07pm
Mirage: V2
V2: V1 is doing its homework by flashlight can you come over and yell at it
Mirage: are you okay?
Mirage: you’re nervous, I could tell
V2: Yeah I’ll be okay. Just need to throw a brick at my roommate
Mirage: you didn’t sound okay.
V2: Pre-performance nerves. I’ll get over them in a bit
V2: Could you get me guitar strings tomorrow? I don’t think I can make it after work
Mirage: sure
Mirage: good night
~~~
V2 snaps her last guitar string when she tunes it.
‘Excuse me,’ she says, pushing past V1. ‘I think I have extras… outside. In the car.’
She trips over an extension cable and tumbles out the door, into the cool night air. V1 eyes Mirage.
‘We didn’t drive here,’ mutters Mirage. But she is quickly preoccupied with her own keyboard, adjusting the knobs that had slid out of place during their journey here.
The bar called Belly of the Beast is frequented by college students, and with them many other prospective bands. These other groups keep their distance from V1 and Mirage, staying in small clusters backstage. A Soldier near the back attempts to get in some last minute practice on its flute, only to draw the ire of a nearby Schism. Mirage turns her back on the altercation, already starting to turn violent, and crosses her arms.
‘We still have time,’ she says. ‘We’re fifth.’
V1 watches as the first group—one member a Mannequin clutching a violin—shuffles to the stage, barely squeezing past the pair of fighting Husks. Mirage visibly brightens at the sight.
‘If they’re confident enough to bring violins it means the audio setup is decent,’ she says. ‘Or at least I hope so.’
V1 watches her tug at a loose thread on her jacket.
‘We’ll do fine.’ And that isn’t a lie: the last two practice sessions had managed to earn Gabriel’s approval. ‘Not the type of music I enjoy,’ he’d said, ‘but I can appreciate the composition and skill.’
She laughs nervously. ‘I hope so. V2’s taking her sweet time…’
Polite applause from the audience and the first band returns, looking pleased with themselves. V1 jumps—it hadn’t even noticed them play. It must be just as nervous as Mirage, then.
Where the hell is V2?
A yelp from behind it makes V1 turn. Wings supplementing the pale yellow light of the single lightbulb, Gabriel is tugging the fighting Husks off each other, ignoring their grunts of protests as they try to get in some final hits.
Mirage makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough. Gabriel sets down the two Husks and makes a beeline for the two of them.
‘I wish you luck,’ he says, voice carrying over the din as the second band begins to play. V1 fiddles with its drumsticks. It should tune its drums once more. Maybe something had come loose when it turned around to look—
Instead it gets Gabriel’s attention with a snap of its fingers. ‘You’re wearing a suit.’
Gabriel looks down as if in disbelief that he would ever do something like that. But here he is now, white-and-gold suit in place of his armour, accentuating the radiance of his halo.
He nods slowly. ‘I am.’
V1 drops its drumsticks and dives to catch them. It’d expected him to say something else, like: ‘Stating the obvious, machine? You’re not wearing anything.’ But he seems awfully subdued—has been awfully subdued since that day—and he watches V1 fumble about with a sort of curiosity he’d never once spared it before.
Mirage taps him lightly on the arm. ‘Thank you,’ she says.
‘Where’s the red one? V2?’ Gabriel lifts his wings higher for some light, scanning the space for the other machine.
‘Headed outside to grab something,’ signs V1. ‘I’ll go get her.’
The second band is done now, and the third, with their beaten-up Soldier, is next. V1 weaves through the performers, wing hitting a cymbal on its way out. It doesn’t stay long enough for them to yell at it, and in an instant it is outside, in the cool night air, with enough space to move around once more.
It stretches, then turns its attention back to its goal. Ah, there she is, standing by the side of the road. The lie about finding what she needed in the car was obviously a ploy to get some fresh air. V1 understands completely, but now she needs to haul ass backstage for their final preparations.
It walks up to her and taps her on the shoulder. V2 does not respond. V1 winds up a punch and hits her in the same spot, hard enough to dent the metal.
V2 sways in place for a brief moment, then falls over forward onto the ground.
The resounding crash resurrects the growing dread within V1. It thinks quickly and scoops V2 up into its arms, lifting her off the road and leaning her against the wall beside the exit. It makes sure she stays upright before heading back in, dodging a curious Guttertank that almost blocks the entire doorway.
It spots Gabriel near the back, conversing in hushed tones with Mirage. V1 waves its hands frantically, not daring to take another step further. Fortunately Gabriel notices, lifting his hands in an obvious gesture of confusion. Mirage turns towards it as well and does a similar gesture.
V1 signs, ‘Urgent. Come quick.’
Gabriel staggers when Mirage shoves his wing out of the way, dodging and weaving in between the rest of the performers. The cheers from the bar indicate that the third band has finished performing. V1 shifts its weight from one foot to another, feeling as if it could jump out of its shell.
Mirage reaches it first, almost falling down the stairs but catching herself when she sees the unconscious V2. She gasps at the sight, dropping to the ground, cradling V2 in her lap.
‘Oh my God what happened?’ V1 shakes its head. Mirage curls up around V2 almost protectively, the same way she did all those years ago in that hospital. When V2 was on the verge of death.
‘Is everything all right?’ says a voice from behind V1. It leaps into a low stance, only to relax when it turns out to be Gabriel. His wings fold into nothingness, returning to them the cover of darkness.
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with her,’ says Mirage, sounding like she is about to cry. Gabriel kneels down to take a look, taking V2’s wrist to feel for a pulse before remembering—
‘Don’t just stand there,’ he snaps at V1. ‘Get over here and figure it out.’
V1 listens, sliding smoothly next to V2. Gabriel steps back to give it space as it turns on its flashlight, trying its best to ignore the alert about fuel drain. V2 is motionless, arms stiff by her side. Mirage carefully moves her onto the ground, completely silent, hands curled into fists in her skirt.
V1 turns up its graphics. V2 is similar enough to itself that it feels confident prying open her chestplate to check, but perhaps it should not be this hasty yet. It turns its attention to her neck. More often than not something always goes wrong there, with major wires exposed to the elements.
There. The large cable that goes into her neck is slightly twisted, as if she’d been twirling it around her finger. Mirage gasps when it tugs on the wire, straightening it.
‘It’s not like her,’ Mirage mutters, hand going instinctively to her own wire before stopping herself. ‘She used to tell me to stop doing that.’
A soft whirring noise comes from deep within V2’s chassis. V1 stops moving her wire and switches off its flashlight, a wave of relief washing through it as it turns its graphics back down again. V2 reaches out blindly, grabbing onto Mirage’s shoulder. Mirage moves her so that she sits upright, supporting her head with a hand.
‘I’m…’ V2 shakes her head. ‘I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.’
‘I should be worrying about you,’ says Mirage, voice clipped to hide how badly it’s trembling. ‘You couldn’t move. I thought you were…’
V2 lets Mirage bury her head into her shoulder, patting her with a clumsy hand. V1 looks away from them but Gabriel is no longer standing behind it. Where has he gone? It dismisses the thought and turns back to the other two, a sight that makes something inside of it twist.
‘I won’t die that easily,’ says V2. Mirage hits her hard in the shoulder.
‘Motherfucker,’ Mirage almost sobs. ‘You could have just told me you weren’t ready. I’ll call this off.’
She goes to stand up but V2 grabs onto her hand, making her stagger.
‘Don’t,’ says V2.
‘You’re too nervous to play.’
‘I’m nervous,’ says V2, sneaking a quick glance at V1, who nods in encouragement. ‘Because you’ve been working so hard to make a name for yourself. Because if I mess up again, if I sound just as bad as I did in the last practice, I’ll have ruined it for you.’
Mirage grabs V2’s hand harder.
‘I don’t want to let you down again.’
Mirage inhales, punches V2 in the shoulder again, but gentler this time. ‘You… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel this way.’
‘You didn’t do anything. It’s a me problem,’ says V2. ‘V1’s fine, isn’t it?’
V1 freezes in place as Mirage turns to it. It settles for shrugging in what it hopes is a nonchalant way, turning to the entrance backstage, only to walk right into Gabriel, exiting.
‘I talked to the manager,’ he says, wordlessly shoving V1 out of the way. ‘She agreed to shift your turn to the very back. If you don’t mind waiting until midnight, that is.’
V2 visibly relaxes at that. Mirage laughs, a sound that feels more solid than anything she has said tonight.
‘Thank you,’ she says, threading her fingers through V2’s. V1 bows, only half-mockingly. Gabriel ignores it pointedly and looks at V2.
‘You’ll do fine.’ V2 points at herself, head tilted. Gabriel continues, ‘I have been listening to the rest, out there. Provided you do not lose your composure, you will outperform most of them.’
V2 chuckles. ‘Are they that bad?’
Gabriel crosses his arms. ‘No. Accept that you are better than average.’
He turns on his heel and makes a beeline for the door. V1 gives V2 a quick thumbs-up before following. He resummons his halo backstage, casting a faint blue glow over the now mostly-empty space.
‘Leave me alone,’ he groans when he notices V1, glowing wings fanned out.
‘They’re busy. I need someone to bother.’ Gabriel finds a corner to sit in, leaning against the wall with a sigh of relief. V1 sits right beside him, crossing its legs. Gabriel watches it with a vague fascination as it flutters its wings, watching their reflected light dance across the floor.
‘Mirage and V2 are… together?’ he asks. V1 shrugs.
‘You’d think so. They’ve never defined their relationship. They’re very close.’
It is glad it does not need to keep a faint note of bitterness out of the last sentence. Truth be told, it does feel lonely sometimes, watching those two care about each other in a way it cannot understand.
Gabriel loosens his tie and takes a deep breath. ‘Better,’ he mutters to himself, then louder, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. The three of you…’
He trails off, fumbling for words. V1 taps its fingers to the beat of the music it can hear from the stage.
‘To see machines having relationships like this is foreign to me.’ Realising what he’s said, he quickly adds, ‘I meant to say, I was wrong to assume that your sentience was any less than my own.’
V1 rolls its shoulders. ‘Easy mistake to make.’
‘Are you and V2… siblings?’
If this is the point he wanted to get to, the roundabout manner almost makes V1 roll on the floor, laughing silently. ‘No. Same manufacturer. Siblinghood is a human concept.’ It watches him squirm for a while, the awkwardness of his questions sinking in. ‘We’ve known each other for years. Beat each other up in a parking lot after school because we didn’t know what else to do. Built for wars that no longer existed. V2 was a true rival, skills close to my own.’
V1 pauses when the audience applauds. Gabriel seems oblivious to the racket, his attention focused solely on it. The tip of his halo spikes shift incessantly between blue and gold, as if he is fighting to keep it one colour.
‘I almost killed her once,’ continues V1. ‘I’d forgotten to hold back. I’d forgotten that she was the only thing I looked forward to every day of my purposeless, pointless life. She survived, but her month in that hospital changed her.’ Changed me.
‘What about Mirage?’ Gabriel’s voice is soft.
‘Here’s where she comes in.’ It pulls a coin from its wing, relishing in Gabriel’s flinch at the sight of it. It rolls the coin over its knuckles. ‘She was volunteering at the hospital. And when she heard about a machine that looked like her, she had to visit…’
~~~
V2 had never liked reading. While V1 did it just for something to occupy its time, she’d always scanned through the pages, parsing important information that she’d scoff at and delete a week later. All in the name of efficiency.
When V1 visited her in the hospital, she had been reading a book.
It’d made fun of her then and she’d carefully avoided its gaze, muttering vaguely about a pretty girl she’d been talking to. A volunteer. Aspiring composer. Recovering from depression or something similar.
‘She gave me this,’ V2 had said the second time V1 visited her, holding up a cassette tape. ‘It’s all her favourite songs. I’m going to listen to them.’
‘Get better soon. I have no one else to beat up.’
V2 laughed.
Mirage brought her laptop to that room, which was how V1 met her on its third visit. She’d been trying to make a song, plucking notes at random on her guitar, listening for what sounded good. Loose papers surrounded her, filled with scribblings of all kinds. V1 watched her for a while, tapping away at her laptop, referencing her notes every now and then.
‘Done. Here, take a listen. I made it for you,’ she told V2, who’d dropped the book she was holding out of shock. ‘To help you get better. It’d sound better on real instruments, but—‘
‘I’ll learn guitar,’ V2 blurted out. ‘I’ll learn to play your songs.’
Mirage tapped play on her laptop.
~~~
It starts with the drums.
Too fast, not meant to be playable, but V1 loves a good challenge. There is barely anyone left to watch them play, but fuck it, it plays for itself. Snare out of tune, just the way it had first heard the music on the floor of a hospital.
V2 spent two years learning the guitar until she was ready to play this song, afraid she wouldn’t do it justice. She needn’t have worried; this song is hers. Her instrument cries out in her hands, triumphant.
V1 lets the drums fade away, and Mirage’s synth takes the stage.
She’d called the synth part amateurish when she’d revised it weeks ago. V2 begged her not to change it, saying it carried with it the voice of the girl in the hospital, sweet unsmelted dreams beginning to bloom.
‘I’m past blooming,’ Mirage replied. ‘I am flourishing.’
Yes, there she is, in all her glory. Single-minded purpose; arrow seeking its target. She means to be seen, and seen she is. V1 watches the audience, some finally tearing their attention from their phones to look: the building complexity of the notes never losing their original relentless, pursuing pace.
V1 rejoins her in blissful, greedy want. V2 comes back in as well, and V1 can hear her humming to herself, gaze fixed on Mirage.
V1, meanwhile, loses itself in the drums.
It doesn’t have to think here. Not about the future, not about impending doom, not about its inevitable death. The drums do that for it, translating its thoughts into something simpler. Something that can echo against the walls of a bar and disappear, if only for a while.
Mirage hasn’t changed the ending. ‘Call it homage,’ she said, ‘or whatever you want. This is the only section I have never been unsatisfied with.’
And as V1 listens to V2 hit that final screech, her wings spread out, her pose communicating a sense of victory, it cannot say that it disagrees.
It likes the way this music makes it feel.
Mirage bows to the audience as they clap politely. A Sentry near the back had switched on its camera to record mode, red light blinking in the darkness. Mirage turns to the rest of her band, solemn.
‘You know what comes next.’
And they do. Mirage’s first few synth notes ring out, a beacon of their former failure. But as V1 hits its cymbals so hard it can feel its arm vibrate, it cannot find it within itself to care. A steady strumming from behind it tells it that V2 agrees.
They are here to play, and play they will.
fuckin evangelion man
i'm having so much fun writing this thing
also i can't reply to every comment but i want you guys to know that i appreciate each and every one of them. it's lovely to think that there are people out there who look forward to what i put out. love y'all