[That is not exactly a question that 76 expects, mostly because he'd been running on the assumption that Zenyatta knows who he his--how could he not? Even Hanzo figured it out once he saw 76's face, and perhaps he'd been assuming that Zenyatta was just too polite to question him about it.
This, however, seems to indicate that Zenyatta doesn't know at all, though 76 of course is too suspicious to take this at face value. The comment about the man he used to be indicates that maybe the omnic is only pretending not to know. It's a pointed question, at the very least.]
[The simple truth is that Zenyatta looks into 76's face and sees a pixellated haze, a kind of digital ghost. Familiarity comes in fragments- hard blue eyes, a strong mouth, a chiselled jaw... perhaps if he were to put them together in a more rigorously mathematic sense he might find a match in his databanks.
But it seems wrong, somehow. Invasive.
Even if he does frankly court it, with an answer like that. If that didn't sound so wildly unlikely he might be tempted to take it at face value as some sort of wild double bluff.]
Ah, I see. Then these [gesturing to the man's lip and brow, and the scars that bisect them] must be papercuts.
[The blades on those things! It’s clear that this is 76’s idea of a sense of humor—dodging personal questions while offering up ridiculous alternatives with dead seriousness. It’s a challenge, almost. Daring Zenyatta to ask him something he can’t necessarily weasel his way out of.]
[As verbal sleights of hand go it is hardly the most subtle of distractions... but, at its most basic level, it works. Zenyatta stares at him for a moment in something between disbelief and uncertainty, as if 76 were telling the unadulterated truth and he is simply trying, mentally, to place the man behind a desk in a tired suit and loafers.
Then he laughs: a real, heartfelt laugh that has him holding his non-existant stomach with one hand and shaking his head.]
Very clever, my friend, very clever!
[The laugh trickles down to a silvery little chuckle.]
You do not have to be glib. I will not press you for answers you do not have the trust in me to share. But [his voice softens, the glow of his jieba dimming] I cannot help but sense the turmoil in your heart- although I suppose your actions in our own world make it plain enough.
[Well, at least the Omnic has a sense of humor, though of course that’s nothing Jack didn’t already know. He lets Zenyatta get it out of his system, nursing his drink for a few long moments before the conversation, predictably, circles back to 76’s personal turmoil.]
It’s just…complicated.
[And 76 sounds a little confused, because he’s not sure what Zenyatta is getting at—if he really doesn’t know who he is.]
I don’t want to bore you with my issues.
[He says, like he isn’t trying to deal with said issues through these meditation sessions.]
[The warmth of his laugh, if not its amusement, lingers about Zenyatta, soft and loose as a cloak; he meets the uncertainty in 76's voice with a small nod, leaning ever so slightly closer across the table. The ball of his hand cradles his chin with a quiet little clink of chrome on chrome.]
I did not expect it to be anything but- and I promise you, my friend, you will certainly not bore me.
[Whether it's the honest truth on 76's part or an excuse to keep him at a distance- Zenyatta suspects the answer lies somewhere between- he does not push for more. Instead, he glances down to his own drink, touching the rim with a fingertip.]
[76 knows that there are certainly questions that are insensitive—things like what were you built for and when did you strike off on your own. Though he’s not exactly the picture of tact, he’s at least polite enough to avoid saying something like that, even if he’s incredibly curious about it.
He settles on something a little less pointed, instead.]
How did you fall in with the Shambli?
[He’s seen an awful lot in his time, but Omnics finding their own religion in such a short amount of time is something he can’t help but be a little fascinated by.]
[Of all the omnics 76 could have fallen into conversation with, Zenyatta is among the most forgiving of lapses in etiquette. As opening questions go, however, this one is mild. Zenyatta's finger pauses at the rim of the glass.]
An interesting question. When I "fell in" with them, we were not the Shambali at all. We were little more than a ragged handful of confused omnics seeking kinship, drawn together by fate- or coincidence, if you would rather.
[His faceplate lifts, as if he were looking at 76, but his gaze lacks its usual penetrating curiosity; instead, his attention seems scattered, as if he were trying to distinguish something hovering just past the man's shoulder instead.]
I still cannot perfectly express what happened to me, or precisely when. Only that there was a time in which questions did not exist, and then a time in which they were all I could think of. [His voice falters, dreamy.] I recall standing on an assembly line, gutting fish, and thinking that I had never seen a living one before, and all of a sudden I found I could not continue no matter how urgent my directive.
[This is something that 76 can't honestly relate to in any capacity, but he thinks Zenyatta understands that. For as much as the omnics were meant to facilitate human existence and in many ways mimic human behavior, they are two entirely separate species. Even now, 76 is having a hard time wrapping his mind around this because he has no real frame of reference for it.
Still, it's interesting to hear. ]
Where did you go?
[He can't imagine that Zenyatta was just able to walk off the line.]
[He's right. For all their similarities, for all the ways in which the human brain is an incredible machine made flesh, how can a human mind possibly comprehend the omnic experience in its most essential form?
But then, human or omnic, how knowable is any mind? And with Jack's gaze settled attentively on him and his questions sincere, does Zenyatta particularly need him to understand him perfectly?]
At first, I did not want to leave. I thought I was malfunctioning. [In a technical sense, he was; he was acting against his function.] But I knew, also, that I could not stay. At first I simply wandered, searching for some grand new purpose that would set me at ease once more- if I had not found Mondatta and the others I am not sure what would have become of me.
[Perhaps he would have returned to the factory, clinging to some distant hope that he could silence his own thoughts. Perhaps he would have fallen into the world of Null Sector and their kind, twisted by bitterness and hurt.]
The Iris brought us together. From there, I suppose it is history.
[Jack, on the other hand, sometimes feels like he's done nothing but follow orders his entire life. That's what made him a good soldier, after all, and a better choice over Gabriel for strike commander of Overwatch. Operating outside the law now is almost refreshing, so perhaps he does understand what Zenyatta is talking about.
A little bit, anyway.]
The Iris.
[He's not sure he wants to get into an in-depth conversation about omnic religion, but he can't deny that he's curious.]
[Fortunately for Soldier: 76, Zenyatta is not inclined towards preaching. He touches the rim of his glass again with a thoughtful hum; no matter how many times he is asked the question, it never fails to seem both insurmountably huge and impossibly simple all at once.]
If you are at all familiar with the Buddhist concept of "nirvana" they are not so dissimilar.
[Although he is not sure what the Buddha would have had to say about artificial intelligence.]
The Iris is the state of absolute, transcendental unity to which all life aspires, consciously or not. Harmony [and he touches one finger to the glass again, only for a small, golden light to materialise within the oil like a star birthed from deepest space] and discord [a second finger, a second light: purple this time, swirling menacingly about the first] in a state of perfect balance.
[The glass gives a muted chime as he flicks its side; within, the gold and purple lights swirl across one another, mingling until their glow silvers and brightens- and vanishes.
[Though he is, of course, not a Buddhist, he understand the concept well enough, and it provides him good context for the Iris. Nirvana, just translated into something robots and AI can understand. Maybe something that humans can come to understand as well, though he knows they all have a lot of work to do in that department.
He can sense that Zenyatta is apologetic, and he tries to wave it off.]
It's not boring. I just had most of it beaten out of me during the Crisis, is all.
[He's not sure whether or not Zenyatta was around for it, but even if he's religious himself, Jack is sure he can understand what he means.]
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no subject
This, however, seems to indicate that Zenyatta doesn't know at all, though 76 of course is too suspicious to take this at face value. The comment about the man he used to be indicates that maybe the omnic is only pretending not to know. It's a pointed question, at the very least.]
Admin work.
[A joke? Perhaps????]
no subject
But it seems wrong, somehow. Invasive.
Even if he does frankly court it, with an answer like that. If that didn't sound so wildly unlikely he might be tempted to take it at face value as some sort of wild double bluff.]
Ah, I see. Then these [gesturing to the man's lip and brow, and the scars that bisect them] must be papercuts.
no subject
[The blades on those things! It’s clear that this is 76’s idea of a sense of humor—dodging personal questions while offering up ridiculous alternatives with dead seriousness. It’s a challenge, almost. Daring Zenyatta to ask him something he can’t necessarily weasel his way out of.]
Stay away from those, trust me.
no subject
Then he laughs: a real, heartfelt laugh that has him holding his non-existant stomach with one hand and shaking his head.]
Very clever, my friend, very clever!
[The laugh trickles down to a silvery little chuckle.]
You do not have to be glib. I will not press you for answers you do not have the trust in me to share. But [his voice softens, the glow of his jieba dimming] I cannot help but sense the turmoil in your heart- although I suppose your actions in our own world make it plain enough.
no subject
It’s just…complicated.
[And 76 sounds a little confused, because he’s not sure what Zenyatta is getting at—if he really doesn’t know who he is.]
I don’t want to bore you with my issues.
[He says, like he isn’t trying to deal with said issues through these meditation sessions.]
Why don't we talk about you instead?
no subject
I did not expect it to be anything but- and I promise you, my friend, you will certainly not bore me.
[Whether it's the honest truth on 76's part or an excuse to keep him at a distance- Zenyatta suspects the answer lies somewhere between- he does not push for more. Instead, he glances down to his own drink, touching the rim with a fingertip.]
What would you like to know?
no subject
He settles on something a little less pointed, instead.]
How did you fall in with the Shambli?
[He’s seen an awful lot in his time, but Omnics finding their own religion in such a short amount of time is something he can’t help but be a little fascinated by.]
no subject
An interesting question. When I "fell in" with them, we were not the Shambali at all. We were little more than a ragged handful of confused omnics seeking kinship, drawn together by fate- or coincidence, if you would rather.
[His faceplate lifts, as if he were looking at 76, but his gaze lacks its usual penetrating curiosity; instead, his attention seems scattered, as if he were trying to distinguish something hovering just past the man's shoulder instead.]
I still cannot perfectly express what happened to me, or precisely when. Only that there was a time in which questions did not exist, and then a time in which they were all I could think of. [His voice falters, dreamy.] I recall standing on an assembly line, gutting fish, and thinking that I had never seen a living one before, and all of a sudden I found I could not continue no matter how urgent my directive.
no subject
Still, it's interesting to hear. ]
Where did you go?
[He can't imagine that Zenyatta was just able to walk off the line.]
no subject
But then, human or omnic, how knowable is any mind? And with Jack's gaze settled attentively on him and his questions sincere, does Zenyatta particularly need him to understand him perfectly?]
At first, I did not want to leave. I thought I was malfunctioning. [In a technical sense, he was; he was acting against his function.] But I knew, also, that I could not stay. At first I simply wandered, searching for some grand new purpose that would set me at ease once more- if I had not found Mondatta and the others I am not sure what would have become of me.
[Perhaps he would have returned to the factory, clinging to some distant hope that he could silence his own thoughts. Perhaps he would have fallen into the world of Null Sector and their kind, twisted by bitterness and hurt.]
The Iris brought us together. From there, I suppose it is history.
no subject
A little bit, anyway.]
The Iris.
[He's not sure he wants to get into an in-depth conversation about omnic religion, but he can't deny that he's curious.]
What do you mean by that?
no subject
If you are at all familiar with the Buddhist concept of "nirvana" they are not so dissimilar.
[Although he is not sure what the Buddha would have had to say about artificial intelligence.]
The Iris is the state of absolute, transcendental unity to which all life aspires, consciously or not. Harmony [and he touches one finger to the glass again, only for a small, golden light to materialise within the oil like a star birthed from deepest space] and discord [a second finger, a second light: purple this time, swirling menacingly about the first] in a state of perfect balance.
[The glass gives a muted chime as he flicks its side; within, the gold and purple lights swirl across one another, mingling until their glow silvers and brightens- and vanishes.
His tone wanes faintly sardonic.]
I will not bore you with dogma, my friend.
no subject
He can sense that Zenyatta is apologetic, and he tries to wave it off.]
It's not boring. I just had most of it beaten out of me during the Crisis, is all.
[He's not sure whether or not Zenyatta was around for it, but even if he's religious himself, Jack is sure he can understand what he means.]