#Humanoid Android Surveyor System

[nan0-sp1der]

␂ > 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 // @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @spiderman2-99

There’s a thought stirring in Bridge’s mind. An idea rolling about and nudging against the capacitors in her head, poking and prodding incessantly to get her attention, “Hey, hey, you know you want to ask her. Don’t you? Don’t lie to yourself, now. You should just do it. Hey! Are you listening to me? Hello-o…?”

Yes. Yes, she knows, she is aware of her burning curiosity. And it’s hard to deny that even though it doesn’t involve her, she is unusually intrigued by the concept. She overheard them in his office, Miguel and LYLA–his A.I. assistant–discussing a plan.  A plan to create a physical form for LYLA to enhance her abilities as his assistant and grant her further autonomy beyond her access to the security network and other adjacent systems alongside her recent emergence into emotional intelligence. It was all so fascinating. The steps Bridge had taken herself in her development in the span of weeks, she was watching unfold in another intelligence in real-time.

There it was again. That sense of solidarity in knowing she wasn’t completely alone in her existence as an artificial being, made of code and metal. It was like a magnetic pull that made that little voice in her head that encouraged her to act on her wants all the more present in her mind. She wanted to be a part of that process that she’d been through so long ago yet was still so familiar with like it happened yesterday. She wanted to guide her in that process and grant her her own knowledge. What’s the worst that can happen if she pilots your hardware for a while? You’re prepared for this. You can handle this. You can trust her, and she will be entirely safe in your care for that short time. And think about how much she would benefit from the experience, how much more streamlined that eventual transition from intangible to tangible will be once her own body was complete. It will make all the difference–and maybe reduce the headaches for everyone all-around, mostly Miguel as he acclimates to the change himself. Just… Try it. You can’t account for every single last risk factor, can you? No. So just do it and take it as it comes.

She stood in the middle of her dorm a moment, eyes closed as she ran a quick check of her hardware before making her final decision. RAM is in good condition. Storage is defragmented and all directories are organized. Sensors are calibrated and functional. Nanomachines are synchronized properly. Servos and joints retain a full range of motion. Coolant is at above optimal operational temperatures. Energy reserves are complete. Good. Everything’s in its right place and ready for its–potentially–temporary host. It’s time to make the call.

Her gaze trains itself on her watch, her arm rising to eye-level and the sleeve that was weighed down by the leaden metal cuff at the end sliding to her forearm to reveal device so she can start the transmission, navigating the menus on the digital interface indirectly via wireless communication–the unique way that she operated and communicated the Society’s technology.

“LYLA, may I speak to you for a moment? At your leisure, of course.”

[nan0-sp1der]

... I did not miss this custom from my time. Not one bit.

[nan0-sp1der]

sits on your dash like this

[nan0-sp1der]

> H.A.S.S._INFO

Greetings. It seems you have found my internet blog, or 'Tumblr', as one would call it. Here you will find some basic information about myself, as seen below. Do read through it at your leisure or at your convenience.

> NAME: " BRIDGE ", HUMANOID ANDROID SURVEYOR SYSTEM, NAN0-SPIDER, "BB"

> ACTIVATION DATE: DECEMBER 24TH, 3048, 4:00:35 UTC

> WEIGHT: 95 LBS / 43.09 KG

> HEIGHT: 5 FT 8 IN / 172.72 CM

> SPECIES: ANDROID, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, " SPIDER-PERSON ", " THING "

> LOCATION: EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE

> MBTI: ENTJ-A

> ADD. DOCUMENTATION 🔗

> AUDIO RECORD 🔗 [MISSING ENTRIES]

> VISUAL REFERENCE:

> CONNECTIONS

> Boss - @spiderman2-99

> Allies - @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @glowing-arachnid , @kari-araneaai , @noir-spider-noir , @peterbsideparker , @spiderbite-from-0202 , @ghostly-sunflower , @itsmiguel2099 , @peacockjumpingspider , @criskape , @spideroracleofficial , @whodo-yourvoodoo , @dumbgreenmutt42, @spiritarachnid , @i-love-vines , @whosmoraless , @thespider-witch , [INCOMPLETE DATA SET]

> Enemies - Deimos

> VERSES / 'AU's'

[ TEMPORARILY DEPRECIATED FUNCTION ]

> DIRECTORY

// post tags

> .IMG - reposted images

> .TXT - reposted textposts

> .LOG - IC blog posts

> Active Processes - physical interaction posts

> ABOUT_H.A.S.S. - headcannons about the muse

> { mun's art } - you get it

> { mun's writing } - self-explanatory

> { ask the mun/muse } - the ask game tag

> { OOC } - mun posting

> { Patch Notes } - small but relevant updates to the blog and other yammering from mun about the blog that is supposedly relevant like seriously who cares?

> { a blip on your dash } - queued posts

> MUN_INFO/RULES

Mun/Admin: misnomer/misno/'mis', she/they/them--nonbinary preferred

lives in the EST timezone

Other Blogs: @asciiid, @whodo-yourvoodoo

{ OOC looks like this by the way. This is mun, hi. A lot of Bridge's blog posts might have this weird formatting, but more often than not it'll just look like a normal post without the additional formatting and whatnot. If this lowers readability for anyone, do let me know asap so I can use a more readable method. }

{ here's some basic guidelines for interacting with the muse or myself }

18+ content is permitted, but smut is a no-go. Gore and violence are ok (I'll include a CW out of courtesy ofc).

Haven't really (openly) dived into shipping the muse yet, but if you're considering, hit me up with a DM and we'll discuss things further for the sake of cohesion. Please, please ask me first.

My activity is a bit scattered. if im slow on the pick-up, im either: burnt-out, busy, still trying to figure out how to reply, or with my head deep in a project of some sort. it's never going to be personal.

If I ever forget about a thread, hit me up! I have the memory of a goldfish (/j) and tend to forget most things with ease. Just remind me.

Asks directed at mun are ok! just be mindful and specify who the ask is for. :)

It's self-explanatory that if you come to cause (genuine) trouble, you're not going to receive a warm welcome. think before you speak.

Kind-of a personal rq but if you're ever curious about oc lore or wanna interact to explore it a bit more, I'll happily oblige! This character has been a passion project for about three years now, so I have plenty to share--both tangible and in the form of thoughts that have yet to see paper... oops.

Random starters to my ask box or tagged are ok! Mind the brief period of inactivity as I formulate a reply.

Wanna do an art or writing collab of some sort? Hit me up at @asciiid! Alternatively, DM me here and we'll discuss there.

Thanks for reading, and see you somewhere out there in the rpc. (^^)

[nan0-sp1der]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 ?

𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦. you give and give. you are a gentle heart, broken but still standing... always lending a hand for those who need it, expecting nothing in return. you deserve someone taking your hand and kissing your open palm, the hands which have selflessly helped so many others. { thieved from @templeofvengeance & @spiderman2-99 } { tags; @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @ghostly-sunflower , @whosmoraless , @noir-spider-noir , @spiderpunkofficial , @pavitr-prabhakar-50101 , you. }

[nan0-sp1der]

Technically asexual due to a lack of reproductive organs, but that's likely obvious.

reblog if you are ASEXUAL, support ASEXUAL PEOPLE, or SECRETLY A DRAGON IN HUMAN FORM

[nan0-sp1der]

The stars sing to me.

[nan0-sp1der]

17:15:45 UTC, Greenland, E-928. A small impact had just erupted in the snowy fields several seconds ago, creating a streak of scarlet in the setting sky. While the impact does not leave a crater, what is left is a clearly disoriented individual who is now stumbling through the landscape. After meandering a few feet away from the steaming hole in the snow, they stop to finally try and get their bearings.

“... Re-entry… Successful. Commencing return to…”

She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence as she inexplicably finds herself landing face-first in the snow. The sheer heat still radiating off her body makes the snow boil and evaporate beneath and around her, the temperatures she reached when falling through the atmosphere at Mach-Jesus being high enough to turn any normal human into beef jerky.

And, frankly, it just about nearly fried her, too.  Even though she did account for this by landing in as cold an area as possible while still being close enough to H.Q. that she could be recovered God forbid, it was going to take some time for her internal hardware to cool down enough to be decently functional.

For now, she just lay in the snow like an overcooked vegetable, blanching in the snow.

She just needs to rest for a bit. Just a little while...

She'll be fine. When she can move her limbs, again, anyways.

[nan0-sp1der]

{ some of these might not apply, but I'll try to improv }

Thematic Headcanons. A series of subject-specific headcanons you can ask your favorite blog and muse.

hc + 🤝 for a headcanon about a connection with one of the receiver's mutual

hc + 👪 for a family-themed headcanon

hc + 🧡 for a friendship-themed headcanon

hc + 💌 for a romance-themed headcanon

hc + 💕 for a loved-themed headcanon

hc + 💔 for a headcanon about a sad experience

hc + 🤥 for a lie-themed headcanon

hc + 😶 for a headcanon about a secret they know of / keep

hc + 😴 for a sleep-themed headcanon

hc + 🌇 for a headcanon about morning- or evening rituals

hc + 🧼 for a hygiene-themed headcanon

hc + 🏠 for a home-themed headcanon

hc + 😃 for a happiness-themed headcanon

hc + 😨 for a fear-themed headcanon

hc + 🤕 for a pain-themed headcanon

hc + 🚶‍♂️ for a habit-themed headcanon

hc + 👍 for a headcanon about things they like

hc + 👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike

hc + 💪 for a sport-themed headcanon

hc + 😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry

hc + 👻 for a headcanon about supernatural occurrences

hc + 🥣 for a food-themed headcanon

hc + ☕ for a drink-themed headcanon

hc + 🐈 for a pet/animal-themed headcanon

hc + 🌸 for a plant-themed headcanon

hc + 🌄 for an outdoor-themed headcanon

hc + 🌍 for a travel-themed headcanon

hc + 🗡 for a weapon-themed headcanon

hc + 🎡 for a hobby-themed headcanon

hc + 🚗 for a transportation-themed headcanon

hc + ⏳ for a time-themed headcanon

hc + 🌘 for a night-themed headcanon

hc + 🌞 for a day-themed headcanon

hc + 🪐 for a universe-themed headcanon

hc + 🌂 for a weather-themed headcanon

hc + ⛄ for a season-themed headcanon

hc + 🎉 for a celebration-themed headcanon

hc + 🏆 for a goal-themed headcanon

hc + 💯 for an achievement-themed headcanon

hc + 🚬 for a headcanon about a bad habit

hc + 🎭 for an arts-/crafts-themed headcanon

hc + ✂️ for a hair-themed headcanon

hc + 👗 for a clothes-themed headcanon

hc + 💍 for a jewelry-themed headcanon

hc + 💄 for a makeup-themed headcanon

hc + 🎓 for an education-themed headcanon

hc + 📿 for a faith-themed headcanon

hc + 🎵 for a music-themed headcanon

hc + 📱 for a media-themed headcanon

hc + 🎥 for a film/tv-themed headcanon

hc + 📔 for a reading-themed headcanon

hc + 💰 for a money-themed

hc + 💼 for a job-themed headcanon

hc + 💉 for a medical-themed headcanon

hc + 🛒 for a shopping-themed headcanon

hc + 🔞 for a nsfw-headcanon

hc + ❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice

[nan0-sp1der]

I have a bit of a dilemma.

I seem to have recently acquired a companion of sorts on a recent mission to a particularly winter-y area, and... Well...

I have named him Columba, after a constellation just south of Canis Major and Lepus. I have already fitted them with their own device to stabilize their atomic resonance and avoid any upsets.

Debating whether or not I will devise a translator of sorts for Columba, unsure how much chaos that would create. We will see...

[nan0-sp1der]

*slides out from behind stairs after being sebt to their dimesion*Are you an ally? Can I trust you- oh. I must be in the wrong dimension.*puts away knife and holds out hand for a handshake* im spider bomb. Nice to meetcha.

Bridge picks up on Spider Bomb's presence as she strafes out from under that stairwell, their footfalls and movement being the first and second things picked up by Bridge's sensors, the weapon in their hand being caught in their sights immediately. She whips herself around to face the stranger, initially preparing to disarm them, the target indicator in her iris glowing alight. Though, they just as soon put the knife away, so she drops her stance immediately when she is met with an outstretched hand instead. After some hesitation, Bridge returns their gesture with a firm shake in return.

"... Greetings."

Her ocular readings tell her this was an anomaly. Luckily, they were nowhere near H.Q., so there was going to be a generous delay before Lyla would tip Miguel off to their presence. But they're still in E-928. At the very least, she'll be able to bring them in peacefully. She should introduce herself to the newcomer.

"I am Nano-Spider. 1-of-1 Daedalus manufactured Humanoid Android Surveyor System. You..."

She looked the newcomer up and down.

"You are lost."

[nan0-sp1der]

"You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God."

'A vibe check from God' may have been the best way to describe brushing hands with Death himself, but the fact that it was in such poor taste made her bristle. To see someone so young go and treat their own life as cannon fodder--with this instance not even being the first--gave her something of a vicious headache. Who knew machines could even get headaches?

"It is still incredibly reckless, Morales. You should know better than to tempt fate in such a manner."

It was incidents like this that tested her temperance. Other people--human beings with everything to lose--don't get to dive head-first into danger like she does, like she can. They simply weren't built that way.

[nan0-sp1der]

I see now why it is he refuses to get any sort of rest... Around you two, at least.

They can’t let Miguel get a nap for 5 mins…

[nan0-sp1der]

Yo!! It's Voo, I made the Tumblr. Now what? Idk what to post. Also, they made Miguel get one??? You told me he was too busy for that--

I'm lost! Help! -@whodo-yourvoodoo

Ah, Samara, I am glad you finally took my advice. Welcome. And that is not what I said, I said he would run it on the side, not that he was "too busy". Mind yourself, will you? He follows this blog. This could have been a direct message. You could go around greeting the other agents that have taken to making accounts as well. I'm sure they would be more than happy to meet you. Likewise, you could 'reblog' the things you find as you scroll around that you like. For 'aesthetics', as they say. Do message me if you have any questions or... Get 'lost' again, I suppose. And, again, welcome. It's great to finally have you.

[nan0-sp1der]

💔

CW: depictions of gore, religious imagery, and mature language

It was the last thing she could have anticipated happening. How, in this vast emptiness, was she receiving a distress call from the bunker? How could such a thing even be possible when they were all supposedly in a deep cryogenic sleep, unable to consciously bring themselves to any of the consoles to execute the code? Most importantly, why was this signal being sent out at all?

Not a second was spent speculating as she traveled as fast and as far as her legs would take her, the sand beneath her being kicked up behind her as a split in the desert was formed in her wake. Driven by fear, by the uncertainty of what she would find, she traveled at inhuman speeds to reach her destination: A twisted behemoth of steel that was at one point the doors to the subterranean bunker’s lift. She need not open the double doors as a massive hole was bored between them like the exit wound of a shotgun blast, which meant she only needed to walk into that gash to find the lift was still at the bottom of the shaft. Which meant

Someone… Someone was here. It can’t be, not–

She throws herself into the abyss, landing at the bottom with a harsh clank as her metal hooves and her one knee caught the fall, only denting the elevator pad more than it already had been before. Dust kicks up from the impact and obscures her vision briefly. Oh, how she wished she could have stayed blinded by that obfuscation. Truly, she wished she didn’t recognize the shapes lying on the ground after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, lying in puddles of scarlet and copper. Freshly spilled. She needn’t perform optical scans on any of them. It was made obvious by their lack of movement that they were recently deceased.

Her first instinct is to scream. Bellow into the empty corridor stretching out before her and to whatever force had carried out this blatant act of violence. It would achieve nothing in the end. So she pressed onward.

54 bodies. As she navigated through the halls of the underground facility, taking in the crude work that had been made of her fellow researchers, she counted a total of 54 bodies, most especially including the ones whose remains were made indistinguishable from scraps of meat one would discard from a beef cut. There was one more. One of them was missing. Who, who was missing? She could name all but one body, the samples she took of the carcasses allowing her to give names to all victims but one. Even without having a stomach, she thought she felt it drop as she knelt over one of the more in-tact bodies.

“... No. No, no, no, why…?”

Her footing comes to a halt at the edge of the garden’s tattered lawn.

She lifts her gaze to one last corridor. It was at the very back of the facility. Far removed from everything else in that building was one garden pavilion which was now shrouded in pitch black like the rest of the area. She felt the coolant pump in her chest lurch. Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet once more to meander over to the beginning of that hall. She remembers this hall. Pure white, shrouded in the glow of fluorescent tubing and granting entry to that luscious greenery that she grew to know so well. No longer did she see that greenery in her vision as she stared into the room. All she saw now was rubble. And, she thinks she sees something else. Someone else.

Her faulty footing guided her down that corridor, stumbling, every joint in her metal frame nearly rattled as she forced herself to push forwards to find whatever lay at the end. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to know. She couldn’t accept what she knew was true, and yet she knew that she had no choice but to bear witness to the reality she helped give life to out of sheer negligence and her inability to enforce the same cruelty that was bestowed upon the only remnants of humanity that were left, that she was supposed to help thrive and advance.

By God, she couldn’t bring herself to describe what she saw. No living being should have to comprehend what she did. But, she did. Her savior lain out on a cross of iron that was ripped from the very walls of this room, leaving a great ravine where there was once a roof. Now there was only the surface above and its light that it cast down from it. The only tether she had to her sense of humanity was slain and hung to bleed herself dry on some tastelessly forged cross.

Cattle on a meat rack.

A joke.

A fucking joke.

Where the head of the body was, she didn’t know, but without investigating further she already knew who this was, as her wireframe glasses were left twisted to shit on the floor, one of the lenses shattered and tinged with ichor. Gabrielle. The final victim.

There wasn’t a single thought that ran through Bridge’s mind as she stared upon the monument of one of her greatest failures. It was a blaring silence. As loud as those sirens that rang in her head when she first received warning of what had unfolded here, the silence droned. In that silence something awful brewed. An emotion she never thought possible to manifest on her conscience, but found its way to her in her moment of weakness. Blinding, grating, overheating the circuit boards in her cranium.

White hot rage.

She has failed at the only thing she was meant to do. What she was made for.

Even though she was being drawn to that great hole in the ceiling to chase after the one who brought ruin to this place, she still found it in herself to pick up the damaged glasses from the floor. It was pointless, a meaningless gesture that would only serve as an object to tie to the memory. Though she realized that before she corrected her error, she would need to cement it in reality first. This was proof. Proof that she had failed. And she was taking it with her and existing in that reality whether she liked it or not.

It was time she shared the blame.

[nan0-sp1der]

Blame it on the black star Blame it on the falling sky Blame it on the satellite That beams me home