Chapter Text
1. The Creation of Kirsh.
Boy Kavalier sits haphazardly on a metal desk in one of his many workshops on Neverland Island.
Across from him is a half-built synthetic.
The synthetic is tall and lean, with the appearance of a middle-aged male, yet still dignified and handsome.
Currently, this model has his chest and stomach plate removed for access to his internal ports. Some may have found the sight slightly disturbing, but Kavalier has been working with synthetics his entire life. If anything, the multiple forms of machinery around him was comforting.
Kavalier finally connects one more cable into an empty port, yet another monitor filling itself with codes and protocols. He clicks a few letters on the keyboard beside him, before speaking up into the almost empty room.
“Activate 32.0K1RS.2.1H.”
He doesn’t bother to look up as he hears the synthetic in front of him whir to life. Lights flicker all around them, mainly from inside the synthetic’s disassembled chest which blinks with maddening speed, wires and cords pouring out of him to connect to multiple computers.
Brown eyes open sharply, pupils immediately locking onto the man in front of them. Kavalier now raises his own gaze, giving the synthetic a grin. Welcome to the world, he thinks to himself.
“32.0K1RS.2.1H, state your administrator."
“Boy Kavalier, CEO of Prodigy Corporation.”
Kavalier clicks a few things on the keyboard to add Atoms as his second in charge if he himself is temporarily unavailable.
“Re-state your administrative authority.”
“Boy Kavalier, CEO of Prodigy Corporation. Atoms Eins, the ‘right hand man’ and personal advisor to Boy Kavalier.”
32.0K1RS.2.1H’s voice is nothing but robotic, monotone. Obedient.
“Good, great. Confirm.”
A light blinks inside 32.0K1RS.2.1H,
“Confirmed.”
“Now, 32.0K1RS.2.1H - ugh, that’s too long to say, I need to name you.”
Kavalier bites at his bottom lip in thought,
“32.0K1RS.2.1H delete previous designation.”
“Title deleted, waiting for new designation.”
“Kirsh.”
It’s not the best example of his creative capabilities, but Kavalier doubts the synthetic will mind.
“Would you like to confirm ‘Kirsh’ as my new title?”
“Confirm.”
The light blinks once more,
“Confirmed.”
Kavalier hums, blowing out a huff once he takes a glance at his checklist. There’s still a few things he needs to check code wise and with functionality, but he wonders if he can at least make the final stretch interesting. Typically you’re meant to leave more aesthetic additions such as personality and individual characteristics until the end when constructing a synthetic, but Boy Kavalier is far from typical.
Plus, talking to robots can be oh so boring - well, robots who talk like robots, that is.
“Assign yourself a personality.”
He comments casually, picking up his checklist to mindlessly swipe through his remaining tasks.
“What personality would you like me to replicate, Sir?”
“I don’t care, choose.”
“Sir, I do not have the ability to ‘choose.’”
Kavalier sighs, placing his tablet down to lean almost threateningly towards the synthetic.
“Choose.”
He says, this time stern and without the option of a rebuttal.
Kirsh, as if he already has a personality downloaded, blinks almost owlishly at the command.
But he seems to abide, because after another 10 seconds of silence, the synthetic pipes up,
“Out of 2 1 3 6 different personality options that I randomly cycled through, I have landed on - dry, sarcastic, witty and sharp. Confirm personality?
“Confirm.”
“Personality confirm-”
Kirsh is cut off by a finger to his lips.
“You don’t need to say ‘confirmed’ after everything, okay?”
Kirsh simply nods, lips still covered by Kavalier’s finger.
Kavalier pulls his hand back, stretching out his arms with a groan.
“I need to test your motor skills, when I mention a specific limb or muscle, I want you to move it in confirmation that it is working.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Kavalier cringes at the way the synthetic’s voice sounds - no longer completely robotic, but still very artificially fake, it’s clear Kirsh is still downloading the specific database of the chosen persona.
Kavalier begins to list certain areas of the body, noting down ticks as he goes. Kirsh abides silently, perhaps picking up on Kavalier’s distaste towards his developing voice.
- Left Arm ✓
- Right Arm ✓
- Left Hand ✓
- Right Hand ✓
- Left Leg ✓
- Right Leg ✓
- Left Foot ✓
- Right Foot ✓
- Click to see more…
Eventually, Kavalier runs out of things to check, his wrist beginning to hurt from the clicking and swiping.
“Alright, everything looks functional.”
Kavalier vocalises as he leans forward, hands reaching out to splay themselves on Kirsh’s cheeks. His eyes follow his own fingers with rapt attention, but in his peripheral he faintly registers the raise of Kirsh’s eyebrows. He ignores this in favour of dragging his fingers across the synthetic’s face, pressing and prodding along smooth texture.
Admittedly, he gets a bit mesmerised and loses track of time, only snapping out of his trance by an artificial cough.
His eyes meet Kirsh’s,
“How long has it been?”
He asks, hands having stopped their exploration to now rest low on a defined jawline.
“15 minutes and 12 seconds.”
Kirsh notes, voice tainted with some sort of emotion Kavalier doesn’t have the time to decipher.
Kavalier feels something akin to embarrassment, and removes one hand but keeps the other firmly planted. At least it seems Kirsh’s voice module has finally stabilised itself.
“I… I was, am, checking your facial sensors. Here, what do you feel?”
He presses slowly against the cheekbone,
“I can sense your finger pressing quite harshly into my cheek, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Kavalier scoffs inwardly to himself, clearly the chosen personality that has wired its way through Kirsh’s code has no qualms immediately falling into said dry, witty sarcasm.
He continues to drag his finger across Kirsh’s face. Along his nasal, to his forehead, below his lips - Kirsh responds sarcastically to each attempt of Kavalier trying to monitor his sensory output.
When Kavalier is finished, he still hesitates to remove his finger, itching to keep touching. He considers if he should try to evaluate the reason as to why he’s so fascinated with this specific synthetic and his ‘skin’ - before immediately brushing the thought away. It’s just a one time thing, the standard interest when it comes to something new and shiny. He doesn’t realise his hand is still on Kirsh’s face until Kirsh has to interject for a second time,
“You have already tested my leftside zygomaticus area sensors, Sir.”
He drags his fingers away at lightning speed, hopping off the table he was on and straightening his clothes. When Kavalier looks up at the synthetic, who, mind you, still has his entire front chest removed, he thinks he catches the remnants of a smirk on Kirsh’s lips. Damn. Maybe he should’ve chosen that personality himself, he can already imagine the headaches this specific synthetic is going to induce for him in future.
“I will send Atoms in to finish reassembling and coding you.”
He says, hands gesturing towards the open chestplate, dragging his eyes away from the machine to make his way towards the door.
Kavalier leaves without another word, fingers still tingling.