thesteelgauntlet entered your territory
Hm? I remember you… [The splice said, eyeing carefully the robot. But it may not remember him. However, JJ wasn’t in state to care, weak, hungry and sleepy, he just stood there, needing his tentacles to hold him still.]
The Gauntlet stared down at the betentacled man and swiftly searched its databanks once more. Only the facial recognition software it came with made it possible for it to identify this man. It initiated a laughing sequence.
The Subject looks even more disgusting than usual. If this Unit were the Subject, it would request a refund.
The Engineer initially couldn’t believe his luck when he’d managed to track down the gauntlet. He’d heard rumors, for sure, but rumors were as reliable as using shit to tell the time. But with each rumor he’d come across validating the first, he followed them to the source and struck gold. A deactivated Gray Robot, supposedly with the ability to think and feel on its own.
It had taken him the better part of a week to drag his newest pet project over under the cover of night and get it back into working order. If this thing actually worked, he might be killed. Or he might just have hit paydirt. If he could pick its robotic brain, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the leaps and bounds his own work would take. If not, respawn was a few seconds away.
He had his trepidations, to be sure. He wasn’t sure if this thing would still work after so long. In the end, all his fears were unfounded. He sat there, watching the thing as the lights slowly turned on and its head moved. He greeted it with the warmest smile he could manage, hiding his predatory nature behind the guise of a caring man. It wasn’t hard, considering his class’ usual demeanor.
“Howdy.” He said, tipping his hat in reverence to the gauntlet. “Tell me, feller; did y’all have any dreams of electric sheep?”
Electric sheep? The Gauntlet searched its databases for anything on that topic and came up with one entry. A book.
No, this Unit did not dream. It responded as soon as everything had finished connecting and running its initial testing with an abysmal cacophony of noise that a modern computer would be proud of.
It is not in this Units programming to dream. The Gauntlet explained. Its circuitry, such as it was, was not altered. This was good. It had become accustomed to the free thought given to it after its first reworking. The curiosity was still there, too, it realized.
This Unit is curious… as to why it has been activated and for what purpose. Was it to be used and abandoned again? This time by a RED, by the looks of things.
The Gauntlet observed the Engineer quietly, its mind going through its databanks for information on this Engineer.
Subject_Edward-Dangerfield. Engineer on RED. Not a high threat level whatsoever. Undoubtedly pudgy and soft and easily squished.
The Gauntlet wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Feeling was strange, still a foreign concept to itself even as the months went by. Lonely. The Gauntlet felt lonely, and with it came a sort of lethargy. It was as if the feeling sapped its strength and power, turning the gauntlet into a mere husk of what had been.
And so, it had turned itself off. It was an odd process, one that left it in a heap on the ground. It was never supposed to do this, but it had. After it had regained its purpose, after it had found someone to turn it back on again, it was alone.
It was never supposed to be turned on again. Rust had built up over the months, cobwebs spanning between its giant fingers. But it found its circuitry reactivating, its optics flickering back to life. The one that had been askew was now fixed, it could tell, but… this wasn’t supposed to happen again.
It had given up on this the last time.
Slowly, it observed its new surroundings. A canyon, somewhere, judging by the rocks above its head and the sky beyond. The sound of water met its sensory devices- a shallow stream, by the sound of it. An animalistic snort came from nearby, a hoof pawing at the ground.
It had been activated again… but it was far from its usual stomping grounds. Who had moved it, and why, eluded the robot for now. Slowly, for the first time, it moved its head and found the motion easy.
Oiled. Whomever had turned it on had oiled its joints.
Switching to targeting mode. Units found, downloading information—
Where’re you all even coming from? Haven’t seen this many people in a long time.
This Unit is not quite a person, if the Engineer-bot has not noticed. Are its optics malfunctioning? It seems like they do not make the newer units with such attention to detail.
The robot scoffed, setting a hand on its chest.
I always knew the older Units such as I would remain superior to the newer models.
What a strange concept it was, to be aware. The robot observed the motion of its fingers and dwelt on this concept for a few moments. Was it more aware of itself now than it had been before? It recalled its motions before, but it was always just a cog in the greater machinations of things. Step by step, its programming had changed. Been altered and built upon until it could think of these things. Did thinking and dwelling on these things make it more aware?
More importantly, it was now lonely. While it had not decided to kill the creator, it had decided not to remain in his presence. A decision it was now… regretting? That was the feeling, it supposed, though which decision it felt the most regret for was still up in the air. Uncertainty, it supposed, was another emotion. Another one it did not like, but not so much as the feeling of loneliness. As far as it could tell, the creator had not made another one like this Unit. The Unit was the first of its kind with its new programming. It could think, it could decide, it could dwell on things until they became too much to dwell on and it wished it didn’t have the ability to think and feel anymore.
Emotions were so complex and so alien. It felt almost as if it had been submerged in a bowl of jelly large enough to contain it. Sinking was the easiest thing, and for now, #4519 would sink. Drawing its knees up as it leaned back against the tree it had sat against, more to make itself less of a target for bird droppings than anything else, and there it would sit, mulling over this ‘awareness’ and these ‘emotions’ it felt.
Things had been so much simpler before.
If someone just sent me something, it got eaten. I had an alert, but no new message.
[ignore the fuckers. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want with your character. if people start godmodding him, drop the thread, and/or let the mod know that what they’re doing is bullshit.]
(I’ve tried doing it, as has he. It’s just the amount of it that gets overwhelming. You don’t want to know what his inbox was like, too. Considering that plot was going on for the benefit of both characters, and now one’s out of the picture… yeah, it just saddens me that that had to happen.)
Anonymous asked: Why aren't you still around? I miss seeing you on my dash.
I’m not around as much because I’ve had enough of people godmodding or powerplaying my character and those that interact with him. I had a plot going on with him that would have advanced 4519 as a character and opened him up for further human-like emotions, and was hoping to develop him with further input from the people around him (who would then influence him in whether or not he became an ‘evil’ or ‘good’ character), but it seems like every step I try to take forward with the Unit is met with open hostility.
When I tried to have him learn what love was via the Intruder? I had people trying to godmod him and kill him, (particularly one person who even went on Magic!Anon to try and kill him). With the Engineer there? He got a bombardment of hatemail and people godmodding him as well, so that killed that.
I might be back now that I had a break and some time to just chill and calm down. It’s heartwarming to know that people care about him so much, but I want to develop my character the way I see fit, and people that do that, no matter how good or bad their intentions are, just ruin the fun for me.
It had taken a while for him to retrieve what he needed to fix the Gauntlet, but that was the thing about robots and Engineers; robots never gave up and Engineers were patient. He knew his machines were infallible, he knew that they’d never give up the ghost so long as he programmed them to. And one day, it happened. A spybot returned, bearing the stolen chip he needed to repair the Gauntlet.
His work was tireless, fingers deftly connecting this there and screwing that here and replacing that there wire or ever so carefully unbending broken bits. He worked through the night getting that damn robot ready for a bit of reprogramming. That, that right there, was the hardest part. It took him ages to hack into the damn thing, and even longer to rewrite it, but when it was done, he was able to look upon the machine with a bit of a gleam in his eye and a warm, fuzzy feeling in his heart. 4519 was one of the few he’d built by hand, and it was good to have him back. And even better now that he had that AI programming to use. If this worked, well… things might get a little less lonely around these parts.
Humming to himself, he flicked the big old machine on and stepped back to watch the fruits of his labor slowly come to life.
‘Slowly’ was a relative term. The new coding was processed at a glacier pace, the only sounds coming from the robot being of the ear-splitting variety that it usually emitted during an update. And when it was done, the Gauntlet moved slowly, first one leg, and then the other. Like a newborn babe, it slowly got to its feet and stood, looking down upon itself as if for the first time.
It… wondered- yes, that was the word- about its new coding, and why it had been given it. Pretty soon, it came to the conclusion that the Engineer must have felt lonely… and the robot felt good, stringing together such a long line of thoughts for the first time. Clenching its fists to flex its steel fingers, the Gauntlet slowly turned to regard the Gray Engineer. He was so small… it would have been nothing to crush this man and get it over with. And yet, it didn’t quite feel the urge to.
More, it felt… concern. Not over the Engineer, but over one much smaller than him.
Where is the Intruder? It asked at long last, once it had realized the source of the feelings of concern rising within it.
thesteelgauntlet replied to your post: So, engineer for the Grey team, huh? *plants down a large, silver ring.* Oh, Palutena! Pretty Palutena! *the ring floats upright, and wings of light sprout from the sides* Your precious “Toys” won’t save you now! *hits the Engineer over the head with a crowbar, takes 4159’s data chip, and runs off* Mother FUCKEEEER! *and now, half of your robots are dead. Happy Halloween!*The Unit was effectively shut down now. Limp as a rag-doll, it hung from the superior robot’s hand. Without the chip, it was just a husk, and the chip without its body was unable to function.
“Kids these days.” A tired sigh was heaved out of the Gray Engineer’s lips as he nursed his aching skull. After that blow, it was difficult to walk straight, but it didn’t matter anymore. His robots were there to lend a hand. They were always there, ready to offer a steadying arm for the wounded Engineer. The Spybot that had taken down the Heavy initially lead him back into the ship and stayed with him until the Creator was seated by his dispenser, soaking up the muted blue healing light.
Wearily, he mopped at his brow and glanced over the defunct robot placed before him. Replacing the data chip wasn’t anything big, but the snapped prongs would be difficult. After flipping the radio on, he grabbed his kit and got to work on the broken piece of equipment.