Miss · Cornelia · Rothschild

Journal entry by Miss Lia
Codename/Remnant Classification: The Guardian Angel
January 28th, 2199

I invited him over for tea, again. Of course he came. He always does, even if he insists on criticizing the tea and critiquing the curtains and grousing and glowering.

But I know he must like to visit me, else he wouldn't come. Agent Smith is all about his image, isn't he? It takes a solid half-hour of cajoling to even get him to part with those silly sunglasses of his. I don't believe him when he argues that they are coated with a special "anti-pink" reflective shield.

At any rate, he doesn't seem to be accepting the ideas that I have been attempting to introduce him to, e.g. that he should refrain from hunting down humans and slaughtering them like rats. However, all of my obvious attempts thus far have been verbal. I am well aware that logic and eloquence will never convince him - as a matter of fact, he can run grammatical rings around me, and often does.

It is the fact that he continues to visit that gives me hope. Every time he enters this house, he enters my memory palace. Those I have known and loved and been touched by inform every teacup, every tinkle of the bells in the gardens, every twist in the topiaries.

These silent arguments, I pray, will soften his heart. And of course, he must have one in there, somewhere. Other programs do. I do.

...he did the neck cracking thingie today, too. For some reason, I find that incredibly enchanting. I wonder what his given name is. Henry, maybe? Percival?

Fighting for the fleshies!

Lia

(I'm sorry, but this suit is so "Matrix" Lia.)