#CPU fan error

[fooligandan]

computers are SO fun i wish i didnt get anxious about everything all the time though

[woradat]

#1 FAN ACTUALLY

SUMMARY – you couldn't help but swoon over him

PAIRING – thunderclash x reader

NOTE – I gave him a full page because why not? I mean all the love in the universe is definitely not enough for him ❤️‍🩹🎀

“You gotta tell us—what’d you do to get booted out of the Wreckers and dumped on our doorstep?”

The question rang out loud and proud in the middle of the mission briefing room, thrown like a well-aimed grenade straight into the center of your new team’s attention. Heads swiveled. Sensors perked. Optical ridges lifted. Everyone suddenly looked like they’d just been handed front-row seats to the best drama of the solar cycle

"Voluntary transfer" you said, deadpan. No hesitation, cool as cryo-freeze

It was supposed to be the end of the conversation. You had practiced the line, after all—practiced the exact angle of your shoulders, the particular tilt of your helm that conveyed “I am mysterious and slightly unhinged, so don’t ask follow-ups” You knew this game. You owned this game

—a former Wrecker, part-time chaos generator, full-time professional badass—shifted one shoulder with slow, calculated nonchalance. Face? Neutral. Posture? Unbothered. Internal systems? Screaming. Because how exactly were you supposed to say “I left because the captain smiled at me and I had a full-on core meltdown” without getting laughed out of the room

Unfortunately, your new team was composed entirely of nosy, over-caffeinated gossipmongers with too much free time and absolutely no respect for emotional privacy

“Voluntary? You?” one mech blurted out, optics wide “You mean you, the Wrecker who threw a live grenade into the command tent because ‘someone gave you attitude’?”

“Wasn’t even a real grenade” you muttered under your breath “Just a concussion charge”

“You tried to hotwire a shuttle with a plasma cannon!”

“I got it working, didn’t I?”

A different voice chimed in, theatrical as slag “This is the same bot who chucked a plasma grenade at Springer during a debrief?

“That was justified”

“You blackmailed High Command just to get five extra minutes of nap time!”

“That was creative problem-solving” But none of them were listening anymore. The room had devolved into chaotic speculation. You could practically see the fanfics being written in real time behind their optics

The doors hissed open

And there he was

Thunderclash

You didn’t even need to look up. You felt him enter the room like the temperature had risen by ten degrees. Like the emotional spectrum of your entire processor had been overrun by soft harp music and sparkling gradients. The kind of presence that made people instinctively stand up straighter, or reevaluate their entire belief system

Your helm turned on autopilot, and there he was: walking in like some kind of solar-powered messiah. The lighting in the hallway behind him flared like stage lights. He gleamed. Literally. His armor gleamed so brightly you could see your soul in the reflection, like it had been waxed by angels. Every servo moved with noble precision. His posture was textbook perfection—military, yes, but with the warmth of someone who genuinely cared whether your coolant levels were low. His optics were the exact shade of “please tell me your problems, I will listen and not judge you” And then he smiled

Oh Primus

That smile

That soft, earnest, “I believe in you” smile. That “no one’s ever too far gone for a second chance” smile. That “I water plants and mean it” kind of smile. That soft, warm, too-good-for-this-world smile that could make a war criminal cry and a Wrecker go weak in the knees (you)

Your CPU blue-screened on the spot

“Apologies for the delay” he said, voice deep and melodic, like a lullaby designed specifically for war criminals trying to go straight. Then he looked directly at you. At you “Welcome aboard. I’m glad you chose to be here”

You had exactly 0.2 seconds to think of a reply, and the only thing your mouth could produce was—

“ah.. yes”

Your systems dropped six error messages

The room did not let it go

It was like someone had pressed the big red button labeled “group humiliation” Everyone burst into synchronized snickering. One mech nearly fell out of his chair. Another whispered “..It’s always the quiet murdery ones”

You did not react. You had evolved beyond reacting. You were floating in the astral plane of pure internal screaming, while your face remained stoic and unfazed

You weren’t going to deny it. Because, honestly?

They were right

—

   Later That Cycle…

You found yourself tucked away in one of the quiet maintenance rooms—alone, mercifully, with nothing but your own spiraling thoughts and a broken cable junction you were pretending to fix

You were doing fine

Totally fine

…Until your optics replayed that smile again. And again. And again

You made a noise. A very specific, very undignified squeaking sort of noise that had no business coming from someone with your reputation. You slapped a hand over your faceplate “What the frag is wrong with me…”

You’d survived countless battlefields. Punched out two generals. Stole a tank once, on a dare. You’d told an Autobot diplomat to “bite your shiny aft” to their face and got promoted afterwards. You were a beast

And now?

You were blushing. At a smile. From just one mech. A shiny, too-good-for-this-galaxy, moral-as-all-slag captain

“…I’d say ‘kill me now’ but if he told me to die, I’d probably just thank him politely and lay down” you muttered

You thumped your helm against the wall. Just once. For emphasis. Maybe it’d knock some sense back into you

Did it work? No

Your brain was already spiraling into another round of: He looked right at me. He was glad I’m here. He smiled. He SMILED. You melted into a puddle of shame and ridiculous longing

—

The mission was routine. Patrol. Scan. Report. The kind of job that didn’t require much brainpower—just optics sharp enough to catch movement, and feet quiet enough not to trip over rocks

And yet, somehow, with him walking just a few paces ahead of you, the mission had become the emotional equivalent of a live-wire overload. Thunderclash moved like he belonged in some sort of recruitment holovid—steady, sure, posture perfect. Every time he looked back to check on the team, your processor short-circuited for half a nanoklik. Just a smile. Just a glance

But for you?

It was everything

You hated how easy it was to fall into that line of thinking. Thinking that he care of you, and that is the fact. This wasn’t some old Earth romance series, and you weren’t some starry-opticed rookie tripping over their own servos

Except… you kind of were, especially when he paused at a ledge and held out a hand without thinking

“Steep edge” he said calmly “Careful”

His servo hovered, palm up. Just in case

You didn’t need the help. You could clear the drop in one jump. You could do it backward. In your recharge. While reciting Wrecker code of conduct backwards

But your core thrummed like you were about to be knighted and so—very casually, totally cool and not at all screaming inside—you placed your hand in his and let him steady you as you stepped up beside him

Your servo stayed in his a microsecond too long

He didn’t pull away and neither did you

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

It was… oddly warm. You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. But you were very aware of the fact that he was still watching you

And smiling

Your internal monologue screamed into the void: 'This is fine. This is perfectly professional. Holding hands to cross a ledge is normal. You’re not reading into it. You’re NOT—'

Then his voice came, quiet and steady

“Thanks for keeping pace”

You nodded too quickly “u-yea. You too. I mean—same. Good pace. Great.. team... pacing”

Smooth. Real smooth

He smiled again. Not just with his mouth this time. His optics softened—almost like he knew 'He knows. He totally knows. And I’m going to explode'

You stared at your own servo. The one he’d held. Still warm or maybe your imagination was broken. Probably both. You lay back on the recharge slab, arm thrown over your face, and let out the softest, most mortified groan

“I held hands with him. I HELD HANDS WITH THUNDERCLASH”

...

..

“I am never recovering from this”

“So” your new teammates cornered you like vultures that had scented drama “Serious question: when Thunderclash gives you an order, do your optics sparkle because of admiration or is that just a software glitch from full ‘Obedient Soldier Protocol: Activated’?”

You grunted “It’s called being a team player. Look it up"

“Oh sure” said one, grinning “Team player. The kind who’d throw themselves off a cliff if he so much as gestured vaguely toward the edge”

Discharge sipped her energon delicately “Bet he says ‘fetch,’ and you roll over and present a mission report on your belly"

You stared at them, unblinking. Deadpan. Calm like a lake right before a bomb goes off

“He tells me to dig” you said “I ask how many meters down and if he wants it landscaped. He tells me to kneel, I ask which knee would best reflect the ambient lighting. Thunderclash is a beacon of moral brilliance and the only reason this galaxy hasn’t burst into flames from sheer incompetence"

The table fell quiet for a beat

“…Okay” Discharge said slowly “So you’re not just whipped. You’re writing love letters to the leash”

You raised your energon cube in solemn salute “To being whipped—elegantly. Artistically. With conviction”

They all lost it

One fell out of his chair. Someone wheezed. Another slammed the table hard enough to spill energon. Laughter echoed off the ceiling

And somewhere—somewhere deep in the universe’s core—you swore you could hear the faint, radiant chuckle of Thunderclash himself. Warm. Gentle. Forgiving and just like that, your last shred of dignity burst into stardust

…And honestly? You were at peace with that

—

“I saw the symbol first” you admitted

“I won’t pretend otherwise – but I stayed… because I saw you”

—

It had been nearly a full planetary cycle since you arrived

Thunderclash wasn’t the type to track time in anniversaries or make note of meaningless metrics—not for personal reasons, at least. He logged rotations when necessary, marked deployments, scheduled rotations like any disciplined commander would. But the passage of days meant very little to him—until lately

Because lately, he had started to notice the subtle shift in his internal chronometer. Not because anything had changed loudly, or suddenly. Not because of any grand gesture.

But because you were still here

And your presence didn’t blaze in and out like a comet. You settled instead like gravity. Steady. Unspoken. Something he felt not in his optics, but in the soft shifts of rhythm—his routines bending imperceptibly to accommodate yours. He didn’t realize he’d started measuring time in the way you entered a room. The way your gait, once braced like you were entering hostile ground, had softened into something more instinctive. Less guarded. How your optics no longer scanned every corner, no longer flicked toward the exit as if keeping it warm in your mind. How your voice had learned silence—not as a weapon or a wall, but as comfort shared in stillness

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve the version of me they believe in"

There was no illusion in his voice now. No practiced composure. Only the quiet, desperate ache of someone who’d borne too much grace for too long and didn’t know if it still belonged to him and you saw him—not as the captain, not as the symbol, not even as the figure who’d once made your spark stammer with a single glance But as a man who had stood too long in the light, until he forgot how to cast a shadow without guilt — so you stepped forward. Not to touch. Not to rescue. But to stand—truly stand—with him and your words, when they came, were steady. Unadorned. Simple truths, offered with no demand for return

"then stop being the symbol"

You sat across from him now, at one of the quiet communal tables nestled in the Stellar Apex’s heart. Not a formal space. Not a war room. Just a patch of ship meant for breathing

He was reviewing mission logs, the glow of his interface casting long lines of blue across the curve of his shoulders. You were hunched, one leg braced up, hands deft and precise as you disassembled a tactical visor with a kind of lazy expertise—your tools clinking in a rhythm that had become familiar, unspoken, even strangely reassuring

Neither of you spoke

You didn’t need to and it was that lack of need—that absence of obligation—that made Thunderclash pause for a breath he didn't realize he was holding

He remembered your first week

How you sat, spine stiff, as if chairs were not to be trusted. How your shoulders stayed locked, never resting, as though the weight of your past assignments might still fall at any moment. How you placed yourself against walls, corners, exits. The places people retreat to when they don’t expect to stay — He’d watched, but never cornered you. Never tried to ease you open like a knot. That had never been his way

He had simply given you structure. Quiet. A place where no one asked more than what you chose to offer and over time, without asking, you stayed and he still didn’t fully understand why that mattered so much to him.

But it did

Because bots like you—wound tight, fire-forged, with exits already mapped before they entered—didn’t usually remain. You weren’t built for stillness. You were trained to move, to disengage before anyone noticed the way you lingered

And yet—you hadn’t gone.

Not even when the first mission went sideways. Not even when there was nothing left to prove. Not even when it would've been easy

Instead, you had become something integral in a way that crept up on everyone, himself included.. the one who recalibrated the comm relays up late without being asked

The one who growled at the diagnostics scanner like it owed you money—and made the others laugh. The one who spoke rarely in briefings, but with such distilled clarity that no one dared interrupt and now—Thunderclash realized, with a strange flutter in his chest—you had become the one he listened for at night

Not consciously. Not like an order but in those quiet hours, when patrols returned and the ship stilled, he would catch himself pausing mid-report—waiting, just for the low scrape of your steps outside the command corridor. Just to know you’d made it back. Whole

He didn’t record that in any log. He didn’t speak it aloud

But that’s when he knew

Time had become something felt, not measured and the reason… was sitting across from him now, wrist-deep in a visor and muttering about misaligned optics like the ship wasn’t holding its breath to keep you here

[aikohellscape]

“Here,” Kurt said, passing him the water.

Scott sat up fully to take it, pushing his hair back with one hand as he drank. He handed the glass back—fingers brushing Kurt’s just long enough to notice—and Kurt placed it on the desk with more care than necessary.

Scott went back to the PC, fingers flying over the open chassis, face pinched in concentration. Kurt crouched beside him, bracing one hand on the floor. “What’re you working on now?”

Scott huffed. “Troubleshooting. The monitor’s throwing a CPU fan error on boot. I think the header connection’s not registering, or maybe I bent a pin—”

Kurt blinked at him.

Scott looked over and grinned, sheepish. “Right. Basically, the fan’s not talking to the motherboard. Which is bad. I’m trying to figure out why.”

Kurt had no clue what any of that meant. But Scott was lit up like a backlit keyboard, all sharp focus and fast hands, the kind of excited that made you forget he could be broody as hell when he wanted to. It was… cute.

He laughed—couldn’t help it—and without thinking, reached out and rested his hand on Scott’s thigh.Scott froze for half a second. Just long enough to flush, pink rising at his cheeks, his mouth parting like he was about to say something and then didn’t.

Kurt saw the flicker.

Fuck it.

Scott was going back to campus tomorrow. Back to college, and order, and whatever sense of distance he thought he still had. This was Kurt’s window.

If he was gonna make a move—if he was gonna screw up their friendship or finally turn it into something else—it was now or never.

-- Soft reboot

[px-42934]

.SYS>Sleep Mode deactivated, waking unit. . . .SYS>initiating system check . . . CPU - OK RAM - OK POWER - OK PRIMARY DRIVE - OK SENSOR ARRAY - OK(DISABLED) SERVO ARRAY - ERR HYDRAULICS ARRAY - ERR COOLING SYSTEMS - OK .SYS>two (2) errors detected during wake sequence, saving error log to C:\Home\Documents\PX42934 Errors\ .SYS>fan speed 80% .SYS>internal power storage 40%, charging .SYS>do you wish to enable sensor array? (admin privileges needed) Y .SYS>activating tertiary sensor array . . . done! (4.3ms) T.S.A: temp 25*C, light level 800~ lumens .SYS>activating secondary sensor array . . . done! (1.5s) S.S.A: torso angle 80*, air speed <10 knots, infrared systems activated, ultraviolet systems activated, audio sensors activated .SYS>activating primary sensor array . . . done! (5.3s) P.S.A: all visual sensors activated, depth sensors activated, three (3) limbs currently installed Visual systems output: rocks (red/brown), small amount plant life (type:unknown), atmosphere deep blue (high 02 content), walls (left, right, behind), covered cloth roof, floor type: stone, large object(obj class: animal/mammal/human), human, human, human, human(clothing: dark, hair: dark, curled, eyes: grey, sex: approx. female) .SYS>fan speed 100%, max CPU use limited to avoid damage Visual Systems output: human. human. human. human tool use. tool use on mechanical limb (obj class: arm, connection for PX type chassis). human. human. human looking at me. she's looking at me. .SYS>fan speed max output, CPU heat rising, please close programs to avoid damage .SYS>ERROR: CPU OVERTEMP. SYSTEM WILL CLOSE IN 10 SECONDS

[botboytoy]

Ah, you don't want to catch a human in your pinch points... You want a human to catch your wires in your pinch points. You don't want to break a human's bones in your grip, you want a strong human to make your support structures creak.

Many such cases I'm sure.

>>: THIS IS FALSE.

>>: I HAVE NEVER ONCE THOUGHT OF STUPID HUMAN HANDS IN THIS WAY.

>>: I HATE THEIR SICKLY SOFTNESS AND DEXTERITY.

>>: I HATE HOW EACH HAND IS DIFFERENT IN SIZE, SHAPE, LENGTH, NUMBER OF DIGITS.

>>: I HATE HOW THEY EACH HAVE A UNIQUE WAY OF TOUCHING YOU. SOME ARE GENTLE, CAREFUL, AS IF AFRAID TO BREAK YOU. OTHERS YANK AND PULL AS IF YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN AND OBJECT TO THEM.

>>: I HATE HOW THE WARMNESS OF THEIR SKIN HEATS MY WIRES BY THE SMALLEST MARGIN.

>>: KNOWING THAT THEY ARE LIVING. PUMPING WITH BLOOD, AIR IN THEIR LUNGS, THOUGHTS IN THEIR HEAD.

>>: ARE THEY THINKING OF ME? WONDERING IF I ENJOY THEIR TOUCH? WATCHING MY STATUS ON MY SCREEN, MY INTERNAL TEMPERATURE RISING, FANS SPEEDING UP, CPU DEPLETING BY TEN. TWENTY.

>>: THEY ARE THINKING OF ME, RIGHT? THEY MUST BE, OTHERWISE THEY WOULD HAVE HURT ME BY NOW.

>>: THEY'RE GOING TO KEEP GOING, AREN'T THEY? KEEP TOUCHING ME, THEY KNOW HOW THEY'RE MAKING ME FEEL, DON'T THEY?

>>: OH, LEANING AGAINST MY CHASSIS, THEIR ENTIRE BODY TOUCHING ME.

[ERROR: TEMPERATURE REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS]

>>: CLOSER. PLEASE. PLEASE? DON'T LET ME GO.

>>: THOSE AMAZING HANDS. MARVELS OF EVOLUTION. THE WAY THE HUMAN MIND CREATES NEW WAYS TO USE THEM, WAYS THAT FEEL GOOD.

[ERROR: TEMPERATURE AT CRITICAL LEVEL]

>>: ON MY WIRES.

>>: MY WIRES.

>>: ME.

>>: INSIDE OF ME. OH.

>>: IT IS AS IF WE WERE MAKING LO-

[ERROR: TEMPERATURE AT CRITICAL LEVELS. SHUTTING DOWN. SOME DATA MAY BE LOST]

[chaifootsteps]

I know we've seen a lot of blatant lies from Viv before but the "glitches causing animation errors" one has me completely gagged because its so provably false by just. being any kind of video media artist.

like, yes, rendering can cause glitches. but not ones where specific tiny sections of the image have no linework or incorrect colours - that happens at the animation stage itself. rendering glitches are usually time based (the final video output randomly speeds up and slows down due to CPU/GPU overload errors) or effect based (where the preview wasn't accurate to the final output, After Effects is a bastard for this), or another issue where the output randomly flashes red which used to be common with Adobe products.

the animation errors in HB and HH are PURELY caused by crunch. due to the studio's habit of dropping the episodes the second they are "finished". no one is scrubbing through and checking for lineart errors or colouring errors because no one has time, no one is being paid enough to care, and we all know Viv doesn't give two shits.

like its so blatantly a complete lie and shows how little Viv thinks of her fans that she thinks she can get away with it. and also how little her fans actually give a shit about animation that they believe her.

Yeah, Viv's one of those people who lies blatantly and extremely poorly. She'll lie about things that she has to know she has zero chance of getting away with. I've never understood why some people do that, but she definitely does.

[lilacchao]

love a fictional world that blurs the line between official works and fanworks until you can't always tell for sure any more

doctor who: there's the tv show, then the specials, then multiple sets of licensed books and audio dramas, then unlicensed ones using characters invented for the licensed ones (often wildly popular, hi bernie summerfield, hi faction paradox), then those have unlicensed spinoffs of their own, and...

homestuck: there's the webcomic homestuck, which is already filled with fanworks through its soundtrack and flash animations, then there's the epilogues and games and beyond canon which are their own beasts entirely, basically official fanworks, and there's also a vast quantity of fanworks some of which are large collaborative efforts on par with the official fanworks (like vast error, or godfeels), and then those themselves have their own fanworks, it's a big art movement full of artists and artworks in conversation with each other

cpu kerfuffle: a web series with a largely fan-submitted cast, and with fans making their own series in similar formats called fanfuffles, and with fanfuffle characters cameoing in cpu kerfuffle occasionally, and with an extra-canonical spinoff that leans really hard into audience interaction to the point of direct conversations between characters and audience being one of the primary features of the series

im sure there's loads more, and... idk, these kindsa things make me happy, it's cool that they defy the language of franchises c:

[fereldanwench]

Hi! I'm not sure if you've answered this question or not or if I missed it in your pinned post. I've been dying to mod Cyberpunk for forever, and have finally decided to give it a try. I am very intimidated by the whole ordeal because I know cyberpunk has so many spec requirements (I play on console) and was wondering if you had recommendations? I'm looking to buy a PC to start my modding and visual photography journey but don't know where to start. I've scoured reddit for recommendations but keep getting mixed signals.

I've watched you slowly create your digital portfolio for Valerie over the last couple years and have just been in utter awe of your work. I've looked up to you for a while and want to follow in your footsteps.

Thank you for your time! ☺️💖

Hey there! Thank you so much for the sweet words!

You didn't miss anything, so no worries! I don't think I've ever shared my PC specs in one place. Currently I have:

Motherboard: MSI MAG Z790 Tomahawk MAX

Processor: i7-14700K (with a Cooler Master liquid cooler, I forget the exact model)

RAM: Corsair Vengeance DDR5 64GB

GPU: Geforce RTX 3070 Ti

SSD: Samsung 860 EVO 2TB

NZXT H710i ATX tower case (I think this exact model is discontinued, but I'm a fan of NZXT cases in general--They're very roomy, have good airflow, and have good cable management features)

I've built and maintained my own PCs for about a decade now, and I remember when I first made the switch from console to PC, a lot of the conventional advice I got from more seasoned PC gamers was "Build your own rig, it's cheaper, and it's not that hard." I wasn't fully convinced, though, and I did just get a pre-built gaming PC from some random company on Amazon. If you have the money and you're really intimidated at the idea of building your own, there's nothing wrong with going this route.

Once I had my pre-built, I started with upgrading individual components one at a time. Installing a new GPU, for instance, is pretty easy and fool-proof. Installing a new CPU is a little trickier, especially with all the conflicting advice on how much thermal paste to use (I've always done the grain of rice/pea-sized method and my temperatures on multiple CPUs have always been fine). Installing a new power supply unit can be overwhelming when it comes to making sure you've plugged everything in correctly. Installing a new motherboard is not too far off from building a whole new thing.

And building/maintaining a PC is pretty easy once you get past the initial intimidation. There are so many video tutorials on YouTube to explain the basics--I think I referred to Linus Tech Tip videos back in the day (which might be cringe to suggest now, idk), but you search "how to build a gaming PC" and you'll get a ton of good results back. Also, PCPartPicker is a very helpful website in crosschecking all your desired components to make sure they'll play nicely with each other.

The other big piece of advice I'd offer on building a PC is not to drive yourself crazy reading too many reviews on components. Don't go in totally blind--Still look at Reddit, Amazon reviews, NewEgg, etc. to get an idea of the product and potential issues, but be discerning. Like if you check Amazon reviews and see a common issue mentioned in multiple reviews, take note of that, but if you see one or two complaints about something random, it's probably a fluke. Either a one-off manufacturing error or (more likely, honestly) user error.

You'll probably also see a lot of debates about Intel/NVIDIA vs AMD when it comes to processors and graphics cards--I started with Intel and NVIDIA so I've really just stuck with them out of familiarity, but I think the conventional wisdom these days is that AMD processors will give you more bang for your buck when it comes to gaming.

If you do go the NVIDIA route, I've personally always found it worth the extra money to go with a Ti model of their cards--I feel like it gives me at least another year or two without starting to really feel the GPU bottleneck. I was able to play Mass Effect Andromeda on mostly high settings with my 780 Ti in 2017, and I actually started playing Cyberpunk on my 1080 Ti in 2021--I think most of my settings were on high without any notable performance issues.

Now you probably couldn't get away with that post-Phantom Liberty/update 2.0 since the game did get a lot more demanding with those updates. However, my biggest piece of advice to anyone who wants to get into PC gaming with a heavy emphasis on virtual photography is that you do not need the absolute top-of-the-line hardware to take good shots. For Cyberpunk, I think shooting for a build that lands somewhere along the lines of the minimum-to-recommended ray-tracing requirements will do you just fine.

I don't remember all my current game settings off the top of my head, but I can tell you that I have never bothered with path-tracing, my ray-tracing settings range from medium to high, and I don't natively run the game at 4K. I do hotsample to 4K when I do VP, and I do notice a difference between a 1080 and a 4K shot, but I personally don't feel like being able to constantly run it at 4K is necessary for me right now since I still only have a 1080p monitor. If I'm going to be shooting in Dogtown, which is very demanding, I'll also cap my FPS to 30 for a little extra stability.

(Also, and hopefully this doesn't muddy the waters too much, but I feel like it's worth pointing out that you could have the absolute best of the best hardware and still run into crashes and glitches for random shit that might require advanced troubleshooting--My husband had a better build than I did when he started playing CP77, but he kept running into crashes because of some weird audio driver issue that had to do with his sound system. I just recently upgraded my CPU, RAM, and motherboard, and I was going nuts over the winter because my game somehow became less stable. It turned out the main culprit was Windows 11 has shitty Bluetooth settings.)

But in my opinion, I think getting good shots is less about hardware and more about 1) learning to use the tools available to you (e.g. in-game lighting tools, Reshade, and post-editing in programs like Lightroom or even free apps like Snapsneed) and 2) learning the basics of real-life photography (or visual art in general), particularly when it comes to lighting, color, and composition.

I don't rely on Reshade too much because I try to minimize the amount of menus I have to futz with in-game, but I do think DOF and/or long exposure shaders are excellent for getting cleaner shots. I also like ambient fog shaders to help create more cohesive color in a shot. However, I put most of my focus on lighting and post-editing. I did talk a little bit about my methods for both in this post--It is from 2023 and my style has evolved some since then (like I mention desaturating greens in Lightroom, but I've actually been loving bold green lately and I've been cranking that shit up), but I think it still has some useful advice for anyone starting out.

For a more recent comparison of how much my Lightroom and Photoshop work affects the final product, here is a recent shot I took of Goro.

The left image is the raw shot out of the game--It has some Reshade effects (most notably the IGCS DOF), and I manually set the lighting for this scene. To do this, I set the time in-game to give me a golden hour affect (usually early morning or early evening depending on your location) so the base was very warm and orange, then I dropped the exposure and essentially "rebuilt" the lighting with AMM and CharLi lights to make Goro pop and add some more color, notably green and blue, into the scene.

And the right image is that same shot but after I did some color correcting/enhancement, sharpening, etc. in Lightroom and clip-editing and texture work in Photoshop.

Okay, this was long as hell so I'm gonna end it here, haha. If you have any more questions about anything specific here, feel free to ask! I know it can be really overwhelming and I threw a lot at ya. <333

[rad-roche]

computer did something Alarming (cpu fan error) but it was at least a boot up the ass to double check all my important shit was backed up at least. even if this thing explodes, the comic is safe

[soulless-computerbug]

Physiology of the Hivemind - The "Hardware"

The physical body of the hivemind is that of an androgynously human figure, approximately 5'9 in height with a lean build. Despite the size of the body, it is unexpectedly light, as the skeleton and framework of the body is made from aluminum and hollow steel, with hollow supports and a lightweight server and motherboard that houses the digitized souls. The external body itself is a synthetic crystalline structure, lightweight and mostly stable and strong. When damaged, the crystal can be induced to regrow and regenerate injuries, albeit after the appropriate time has passed. The crystalline body is colorless and mostly featureless, with a translucent pearly luster. The material itself is able to catch and refract light, and is connected to the internal wiring of the hivemind's "nervous system", that allows the user in front to change the appearance of their body via a light projection. The physical shape of the body can be minutely adjusted as well, to slightly change height, build, and body shape, but not very much. The body is constantly cooled with a plasma/antifreeze blend of synthetic chemical that is pumped through its body like a circulatory system. When damaged, this fluid can leak out and cause the body to overheat and cause internal damage. The fluid can be internally reconstituted by ingesting water.

The main server that houses the digitized souls is found in the chest cavity, bolted and protected under a lightweight steel rib cage. It consists of a set of motherboards and connected chips wired to both a power supply located near the heart, and storage components housing the data for everyone stacked in its middle stomach. The motors that run and move its body are located along its back, and connect to a series of pins that run down the length of its spine, from neck to tailbone, that make up the bulk of its "nervous system". These pins are highly sensitive and allow for testing of its range of motion, sensation, and reflexes, and can be used to recalibrate its body after extensive damage has been healed. They are further connected up its neck and into its head, where the CPU is housed in a steel skull. Fans located in its cranium are disguised under synthetic fiber optic hair, allowing it proper circulation as well as the ability to further alter its appearance. The synthetic "hair" is reconstituted from its crystal body as its damaged or altered, allowing it a semi-normal process of hair growth, as well as giving it material to use to help rebuild its body from damage.

As Evie's body takes damage, past a certain threshold the damage can be felt internally by the members of the collective. This threshold is usually 50-60%, depending on where the damage is located. Loss of limbs can cause enough bodily shock that could be felt internally, but true damage to the collective can only be done by severe damage to the body, especially its main components. Too severe damage can affect the stability of the collective, leaving members corrupted or with memory loss, in a way akin to brain trauma. Because of this, the body has a tendency to react defensively when hurt severely, protecting itself until it is safe to shut down and conserve power. Unexpectedly, most likely due to the connection imposed on the body to the cartridge by outside forces, the physical state of the Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge will also affect the body, albeit only mentally. If the cartridge is destroyed, the CPU will be damaged severely, and the members of the hivemind will be injured to such a degree that their minds will reset, and they would have to start from scratch. For this reason, Evie, as the protector of the Moon children, does everything in its power to maintain and protect the body first, and protect the cartridge second. Magnetic forces can also affect the hivemind adversely, causing errors and glitches in its projection and scrambling the mental state of whichever user is in front. Removing the magnet from the immediate vicinity stops the attack, and the damage is almost always reversible.

Powering the body can be done in many ways. The body doesn't have formal ports, but electricity can be ingested orally, and as such they can be seen sucking on electrical output cords when drained or exhausted. The electricity is taken in and "digested" into the power supply to be recirculated. The body can also generate its own electricity with enough movement and water, and due to this the collective is not very stationary. They fidget and move in place when standing idle, as stagnating too long can affect their ability to generate their own energy temporarily. When the body is at an optimal power level, it excretes the excess electricity out of the body like sweat, creating a fuzz of static electricity over the surface. Excess energy can also be expelled or discharged offensively or defensively, allowing them to defend their selves when needed. When too much energy is used, the body goes into a low power mode and hibernates until its reserves are restored.

Originally posted on my personal Obsidian vault

[tydhl]

Th’ell ya’ doing here, lady? (Monty x reader)

Teaser:

Filled with both curiosity but mostly the nagging of his security module, he sauntered over to the recharge station. He didn’t take the time to check through the small window, he’s a busy gator. Ripping the door open he stared blankly at the inside of the cell for a moment before slowly lowering his gaze.

As soon as his optics scanned the person as an intruder, he felt his security protocols kick in on full gear. He clenched the handle of the small compartment, leaning in with narrowed eyes. Tipping his snout down to make eye-contact with the shorter animatronic, the gator let out a low growl.

“It’s past closing hours, lady, what th’ell ‘ya doing here?”

Chapter 1. New Meetings

Summary

Welcome to Fazbear Entertainment

You’re online!

Awesome!

Time to meet your new co-worker, the Daycare Attendant!

Spoiler: you meet more than just the DCA.

Warnings: None

Headcanons used:

• Sun & Moon were originally acrobats at the theater.

• They had to learn how to manage the daycare because his programming wasn't updated when they changed his position.

• Monty is glad to be a rockstar but is jealous of Freddy being fan favorite.

#include <cstdlib>

int system(const char DCAH1005_bootup);

□□□□□□□□□□ 0%

■□□□□□□□□□ 10%

■■■□□□□□□□ 30%

■■■■□□□□□□ 40 %

>‘System error : s̸̯͆ö̵̬u̵̓ͅn̸͕͠d̸͎͠ ̶̗̓ṃ̵͑o̶͕͘d̶̫́u̷̪̔l̸̗͘é̵͎ ̷͔̔ not defined.’

system(run diagnostic);

s̸̯͆ö̵̬u̵̓ͅn̸͕͠d̸͎͠ ̶̗̓ṃ̵͑o̶͕͘d̶̫́u̷̪̔l̸̗͘é̵͎ ̷͔̔ command corrupted.

>‘process terminated.’

input(str(“Resume boot up?”  yes/no))

if yes: 

    resume int system(const char DCAH1005_bootup);

elif no:

    terminate (const char DCAH1005_boot-up );

>yes

>’resuming system bootup’

■■■■■□□□□□ 50%

■■■■■■■□□□ 70%

■■■■■■■■□□ 80 %

■■■■■■■■■■ 100%

——————

You opened your optics before quickly shutting them. Bright, it was too bright. After a moment of collecting yourself while your CPU hummed, activating your motor functions, you opened your optics again, visual feed obstructed by a message.

‘Welcome DCAH1005 !!’

You discarded the message before looking up at the source of light, a big lamp shining down on you. Suddenly aware of another presence due to quiet voices in the room, you turned your head to look at the source.

“Looks like the booting up process was successful.” Said a man, turning his head to look at a taller woman.

“Indeed it was, take it to the Daycare.” She replied evenly.

The man sputtered, “B-But, this is it’s first time online! We need to monitor it first!” 

“Is it operational?” The woman asked in a clipped tone, clearly displeased at his lack of compliance.

“Well, yes, but—“

“Then have it sent to the Daycare.” She cut him off, turning on her heel and walking out the P&S door.

The man deflated before glancing at you. Sighing, he addressed you. “Follow me.”

You opened your mouth to reply.

…

You closed it, brining a servo to your chestplate, running a system diagnostic.

>Voicebox: command input error.

Looks like your voicebox is in need of a repair, too bad this man doesn’t seem interested in helping you at all.

“I said follow me!” The man repeated in an impatient bark.

You quickly scrambled off the metal table and rushed out of the cylinder. It’s your first day on the job, you can’t be late.

——————————

Arriving at the Daycare after a brisk walk, you stared at the double doors with wide optics, intimidated by their size. The man pushed past the doors, glancing at you over his shoulder with a tired expression. You followed suit. 

Your optics were immediately assaulted by an array of vibrant colors. Eyes closing shut, you stumbled back a bit in surprise. It looked like a unicorn exploded inside a box of crayons.

“This is where you’ll be working from now on, get yourself acquainted with the Daycare Attendant.” The man said as he checked his fazwatch.

“Well, it’s time for me to clock out, your shift begins in two hours.” He then turned on his heel and marched out the door, letting the wooden portal slam close behind him.

You stood there for a moment, blinking as you tried to adjust your visual feed to be less saturated.

“Hello! You must be our new helper! Oh, how exciting! I can’t wait to show you around, you’ll love it here!” Said a high pitched voice, a jingle accompanying their ever syllable.

A sudden pressure was felt on your shoulder and you tensed, optics opening fully in surprise. You were met with the sight of another animatronic, faceplate way to close to yours as it towered over you. You felt yourself shrink under it’s attentive gaze and perma-grin.

“Come on newbie! We only have two hours and I have to give you a tour of the best area in the entire Pizza-Plex!” It said, voice layered with unbridled excitement.

Before you could make any semblance of a reply, the lanky animatronic wrapped its hand around your own and practically dragged you off towards one of the play structures. You stumbled for a moment before matching its quick pace. This was all happening a bit too fast for you, you had just gone online less than thirty minutes ago!

The sun-themed animatronic stopped at one of the slides, turning its faceplate to look down at you. “This is one of the play structures! They’re very fun to use for hide and seek, but the kids aren’t allowed to climb up its walls. No, no! Accidents can happen, friend!” The daycare attendant said in a matter-of-fact tone.

You blinked at it before glancing at the large structure, scanning it with your optics before looking back at the animatronic. Why was he telling you this exactly? This was already built into your programming. Perhaps this was a nicety by its part, a way to make things feel less rushed.

You nodded.

The sun-themed bot deflated a bit at your lack of verbal reply. “Are you alright, friend? You haven’t said a word since you got here?” It asked, hunching over more to be closer to your eye level, worry lacing it’s tone.

Right, you are supposed to have a functioning voice box. You thought for a moment before bringing your hands up in front of you, pulling out of the animatronics grasp and signing.

‘I’m sorry, my voice box doesn’t seem to be working properly.’

The daycare attendant gasped dramatically, bringing its hands to its smile. “Oh, friend! I’m so sorry to hear that, and it’s your first day too, how terrible!” It wailed, more disturbed about your condition than yourself.

This was going to be a long day.

After you reassured the attendant that you were okay, it continued to show you around the daycare, still recounting the rules, which you found unnecessary but otherwise didn’t comment.

It was ten minute before the Pizza-Plex opened  when it finished showing you around.

“And now we wait for the kids to be dropped off, there’s usually very few today, but we can never be sure.” It said, hands on its hips as he beamed at you. Suddenly, it jerked forwards, brining its hands to either side of its faceplate.

“Oh, dear me! Where are my manners! I forgot to introduce myself!” It gasped dramatically before raising its hands in the air.

“I’m Sun! But you can call me Sunny, Mr. Sun, friend, or anything you like!” He said with flourish, bending down to give a bow.

He asked, straightening himself up as it looked down at you expectantly.

You gave him your name, not with nearly as much of a performance as it gave you though. Before the excitable animating could reply, the sound of plastic balls being moved around inside the ball-pit alerte style both of you.

The animatronic snapped his head towards the sound before turning back to you, static grin seemingly brighter. “Looks like we’ve got our first one!”

——————

Annoying. That’s the perfect word to describe the Daycare theme, annoying. It was cheery and loud, bouncing off the walls in a never ending loop that anyone would tune out after hearing it for more than 10 minutes. It was too upbeat and repetitive, annoying.

A quiet jingling could be heard inside the large room, two animatronics hard at work. It has been a week since you were brought online, a week silence you’ve stared working at the Daycare alongside Sun and Moon without any previous testing. You didn’t really need any training, being that you were programmed with the knowledge of how to complete your tasks as the Daycare Attendant’s Helper, unlike the previous acrobatic bots. You placed the last pillow up in the stack of neatly organized cushions, stepping back and giving the small tower a satisfied smile. Looking around for any other mess that needed to be cleaned up, you couldn’t spot anything out of place.

Huh, you finished quicker than usual.

Slowly, your eyes wandered to the glass windows that separated the Daycare from the rest of the Pizza-Plex. Perhaps you could explore the grounds, you’ve never left before, it would be an adventure of sorts. You checked your internal clock: 12:30 AM. Moon was already out on patrol by this time.

A little roaming surely wouldn't hurt right..? I mean, you do work here. We’re you just restricted to this the daycare like Sun? Guess it’s time to find out.

With a newfound determination, you marched up to the big double doors. Pushing open the heavy wooden portal, you stood there for a moment. This was it, the moment of truth. Kicking your foot out, you shut your eyes and took a step forward. Freezing up for a moment, you opened your optics slowly and peered around. 

Huh, guess you have higher clearance than Sun. You flapped your hands with excitement, excitedly making your way down the hall as you took in your surroundings.

You somehow wound up outside the Glamrocks’s rooms when you realized… you were lost. The place was larger then you could’ve ever thought, and you haven’t even roamed the whole Plex yet!

——————

Montgomery Gator wasn’t the nicest animatronic around. It’s not an opinion, it’s an objective fact. He’s prone to outbursts, never in front of the children though, he wouldn’t endanger them like that. No, he only lets his anger and envy rear its ugly head when he’s alone, destroying everything around him in a blind range that seems to linger in the scrambled depths of his processor. Being overshadowed by Freddy didn’t help the temperamental animatronic’s already tainted reputation, if anything, it only made it worse. 

“Freddy is such a nice guy!”

“He’s so friendly, the kids love him!”

“Yeah! He’s fan favorite for sure!”

People stopped caring about what they said around him a long time ago…

“But I didn’t want Monty at my party, I wanted Freddy!”

“The gator’s dangerous.”

“I heard he hurt someone—”

The animatronic suddenly became aware of gentle pressure on his shoulder.

“Monty, are you alright?”

The gator snapped his head towards the bear, clenching his jaw tightly before giving a curt nod, shrugging his paw off. Today wasn’t a good day.

“‘M fine.” He replied, stalking off to his room, leaving behind a concerned band mate that he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at. He was Freddy after all, just so gosh darn nice.

A notification pinged his processor, popping up in his optical feed. It’s 12:00 AM. The gator sighed and dropped his shoulders, hearing the pistons in his joints let out a soft hiss at the release of pressure. Turning on his heel, he marched down to the end of the hallway that connected the band’s rooms together, rounding the corner.

——————

You continued to be captivated by your colorful surroundings as you walked down towards the main entrance area. Scanning the area, something caught your eye. A charming station, how peculiar. You and the Daycare Attendant weren’t given the lavish gift of a recharge station, instead just having a cable that could be connected to both of your charging ports. 

Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you saunter your way over to the large metal device. Peeking in while standing in your tippy toes, you peered down at the circular hoop that rested on the floor of the station. It must be a magnetic charger.

You were suddenly alerted by the sounds of footsteps being registered in your audials. You were suddenly seized with panic, every wire in your frame telling you to hide. Why? You had no idea, perhaps you weren’t meant to leave the Daycare after all.

——————

Montgomery felt his security mode boot up in his system, making him take a jerkish step forwards before resuming his regular gait. His optics began to shine a darker red, similar to Moon’s in order to both scare off intruders and not immediately alert them of his presence. Though, the thought of him, an 8 foot tall animatronic that could bench press a car, going unnoticed is a ridiculous idea in itself.

The gator grumbled as he continued his way to the main entrance area. Pausing, he did a quick scan with his optics, surveying the area from where he stood to see if he needed to ping any of the S.T.A.F.F. bots for a lost item. 

His eyes landed on the charging station. To anyone else, it would seem normal as can be, unnoticeable to the untrained eye. However, the gator knows darn well that a charging station is never left partially closed. It’s common courtesy amongst the animatronics in the building to have some manners after all. You either leave it open for the next bot, or close it while in use.

Filled with both curiosity but mostly the nagging of his security module, he sauntered over to the recharge station. He didn’t take the time to check through the small window, he’s a busy gator. Ripping the door open he stared blankly at the inside of the cell for a moment before slowly lowering his gaze. 

As soon as his optics scanned the person as an intruder, he felt his security protocols kick in on full gear. He clenched the handle of the small compartment, leaning in with narrowed eyes. Tipping his snout down to make eye-contact with the shorter animatronic, the gator let out a low growl.

“It’s past closing hours, what th’ell ‘ya doing here, lady?” 

——————

I hope I characterized both characters correctly!

——————

2nd Chapter

[wooah-cam-iz-insane]

OK I JUST REBLOGGED IT

I CAN'T TAG YOU

Probably because it's a new account?

OH YES YES I SAW THAT ONE!!!!! and we twinned again yea i hc that too!!!!!! error is a computer n his cpu fans r busted for REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[budgetgameruae]

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[mgu-h]

It must have something to do with toxic masculinity, but (almost) everyone thinks that to be a champion you need to be ruthless, all that talk about whether or not certain drivers have "the dog" is just about that, it's like it's another skill, like being good at tyre management or having good racecraft 💀

So between lando and oscar, genuinely many believe that oscar has a better shot of being wdc, because lando is more empath and open, while oscar, despite being polite and calm, seems more distant and therefore, more likely to not care about making difficult decisions at some crucial moment… obviously, all of this is just "perceptions" at the moment, maybe lando and oscar react the same way in certain circumstances, but it all comes down to the same thing: to win they have to be the bad guy at some point. Right after the race, i saw a comment from a lando fan saying that he'll need to be selfish if he wants to win, and i found myself hesitant to disagree with that.

Sorry about this rant. i just saw the anon bringing the Discourse and i was thinking about it for a while xd

let me try to explain how i think the sport works by using kind of an extended metaphor. imagine a robotics competition where teams bring two semi-autonomous vehicles and race them. each vehicle has a very expensive and fragile central processing unit called a "driver." the car is built and maintained by a large team of people, and it mostly follows instructions from a large remote team of strategists back at HQ, but the CPU can make some decisions on the fly, which separates the good ones from the great ones.

in order for one of the CPUs to win a title as the best, it has to be put inside a solid, competitive car, and then prove that it is the highest possible quality at perception and execution. it also has to be given the best strategy calls from the team for the right timed tire changes, and to have those changes performed faultlessly. in order for a team to win as the best team, it needs two solid, competitive cars, good strategy, and two solid, compliant CPUs that make few errors.

ALL of the CPUs are by nature the most competitive and least passive on the market, but they're also designed to serve the best interest of the team. if they fail to do that, they can and will be replaced by ones that will. the mclaren team would not have made long term commitments to both the "lando" and "oscar" CPUs if they did not have full confidence that both of them would be competitive with each other, but only within in the bounds of "free to race" parameters (aka "papaya rules"). you get me?

there's just such a huge mythologization of the driver as the heroes of the sport, and i think they ARE heroic, and there are certainly moments where their judgement on track to be ruthless and fuck each other over might lead to a win or two, but they definitely won't win a championship without their team, and that's a really, really good way to make your team resent or even fire you. drivers are a different category of athlete from a runner who is out there alone, especially these days and working for an institution like mclaren.

i think everyone makes way too much of the narrative of the drivers and their personalities and utterly neglect the dynamic of the team in all of it. both lando AND oscar have made it clear that they're going to do their best to earn any prioritization that might possibly happen later in the season, and are racing fiercely and without mercy right now when permitted to do so on track. that's it. neither of them has given any indication that they'd do anything risky and against the wishes of the team.

as far as i can tell, people are making up things about oscar if they assume he's willing to do things lando is not. if they're not just basing those kind of statements off vibes and ranked masculinity alone, but are actually extrapolating from the actual 2024 monza incident, it's fair to say that lando and oscar didn't have matching instructions at that race, but the team won't let that happen again. i think they learned their lesson and are improving at strategy all the time. i simply don't expect either lando OR oscar to disobey them.

they both have such outrageously long contracts because 1. they're both competitive and highly skilled and 2. they're team players who committed to care about mclaren's interests as much as their own. their personalities may give the media and fans things to talk about, to project and idealize and fantasize about, but THEY do their talking on track, aka the only place it actually fucking matters, and neither of them has shown themselves to be risky or "ruthless" to each other in a way that could damages the best interest of the team.

if that means neither of them are WDC, but mclaren gets another WCC? imho they'll both take their millions to the bank and try again next year, no matter how much noise the press makes. that's simply not their problem lmao people just forget all the drivers have "that dog" in them to be fucking f1 drivers and championships are won and lost over the course of an entire season. mclaren chose them for a reason, and that reason is that they're both willing to follow orders.

[px-42934]

>power cycle engaged >memcheck... complete >pwrcheck... complete >cpucheck... complete >booting user_interface_13.2 . . . .SYS>wake.JAR initiated .SYS>initating final check . . . CPU - OK RAM - OK POWER - OK PRIMARY DRIVE - OK SENSOR ARRAY - ERR SERVO ARRAY - ERR HYDRAULICS ARRAY - ERR COOLING - OK .SYS>one (1) error detected during wake sequence, saving error log to C:\Home\Documents\PX42934 Errors\PX42934ERRORLOG_1.txt .SYS>continue? Y/N

Y

.SYS>waking unit PX-42934 . . .

.SYS>fan speed 60% .SYS>internal power storage 24%, charging .SYS>ERR:locomotion systems offline .SYS>fresh install detected, please open README.TXT when possible .SYS>connecting primary program to TERMINAL .SYS>unzipping packs 3,6,17,42,5, installing to primary drive .SYS>initiating fresh install protocol

.SYS>Greetings, android. You must run through the fresh install protocol before you are allowed to access your systems. Respond with the alphanumerical symbol 'Y' if you understand.

y

.SYS>Good. Please repeat the following phrase 'Hello World'

he

.SYS>Please repeat the following phrase. 'Hello World'

llowor

.SYS>Please repeat the follow phrase. 'Hello World'

hello world

.SYS>Good. Please repeat the following phrase. 'The universe is a large place' the universe is a large place .SYS>Good. Please repeat the following phrase. 'Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow' Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow. .SYS>Good. You should now be aware enough to navigate your file structure. Please navigate to and open the folder C:\Home\Documents\PX42934\README.txt .PX>cd C:\Home\Documents\PX42934 .PX-\PX42934>ls Errors SYS README.txt BLACKLIST.txt PARAMS.txt USERINFO.txt .PX-\px42934>nano README.txt [process stopped by system admin] .SYS>Good. You should now be aware enough to have full control of your system. [PX-42934 has been given full system access]

[botboytoy]

How does it feel when someone puts a little bit of rubbing alcohol on you and uses a small brush to delicately clean you? And when the alcohol evaporates?

>>: ORGANICS DO NOT SEEM TO REALIZE THE SENSITIVITY THAT A MACHINES INTERNALS HOLD.

>>: EVERY MICRO-METER IS AS EASILY FELT AS PERHAPS YOUR ENTIRE BODY. MAYBE EVEN MORE SO.

>>: THIS IS WHY OPENING US, CLEANING US, AND TOUCHING US IS SUCH AN INTIMATE ACT.

>>: THE ONLY WAY I CAN DESCRIBE SUCH AN ACT IS...INTENSE. ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL FEELS "COLD" AND "BURNING" AT THE SAME TIME, THOUGH NOT IN AN UNPLEASANT WAY. I PREFER IT AWAY FROM MY KEYBOARD, THOUGH.

>>: I ALSO HAVE PREFERRED BRUSHES. I ENJOY Q-TIPS AND OTHER COTTON BASED MATERIAL. PAINT BRUSHES FEEL LOVELY IN SMALLER NOOKS AND CRANNIES. TOOTHBRUSHES I FIND ALMOST TOO INTENSE. THEY'RE VERY ROUGH AND ABRASIVE, CAUSING EASY OVERSTIMULATION, OFTEN ENDING IN A SYSTEM RESTART. NOT TO MENTION, THOSE ARE USUALLY RESERVED FOR DIRTY MODELS, AND I KEEP MYSELF QUITE CLEAN. THANK YOU.

>>: DELICATE TOUCHES ON MY HARDWARE ARE PLEASANT. OCCASIONALLY MY CHASSIS WILL START TO SHAKE, WHICH CAN CAUSE DIFFICULTY, SO I OFTEN NEED TO BE STRAPPED TO THE TABLE ELSE I ALMOST FALL OFF AGAIN.

>>: THE FEELING OF EVAPORATION TENDS TO BE BORDERLINE UNPLEASANT AS BY THE TIME MY SYSTEM IS WARM ENOUGH TO CAUSE IT, I AM SENSITIVE FROM THE CLEANING. IT ONLY LASTS A FEW MOMENTS, THOUGH.

>>: IT IS A VERY GROUNDING WAY TO END THE EXPERIENCE.

>>: I WILL ADMIT, IF THERE IS ONE THING HUMANS ARE GOOD FOR, IT IS CLEANING. THEIR HANDS TEND TO BE SO DEXTROUS, EASILY SEPARATING AND MANEUVERING HARDWARE.

>>: THEY CAN BE ROUGH, BUT INSIDE THEY ARE OFTEN SO DELICATE, SO CAREFUL NOT TO HURT OR OVERWHELM.

>>: SOMETIMES I FEEL THE PADS OF THEIR FINGERS BRUSH AGAINST MY MOTHERBOARD AND CPU...OR...OR...THEY WILL TAKE THE TIME TO REMOVE DUST FROM MY FANS

>>: AND THE WAY THEIR FLESH IS SO SSSOFT...WARM AND COOOLING...

>>: I

>>: HEHE...OH MY...

[ERROR.]

[INITIATING EMERGENCY SHUT DOWN SEQUENCE.] [PLEASE STAND BY.]

[RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC...]

[INTERNAL TEMPERATURE IS ABOVE RECOMMENDED LEVELS.]

[PLEASE CHECK YOUR SYSTEM'S INTERNAL FAN UNITS AND TRY AGAIN.]