#brainrot subroutine

[no-psi-nan]

I could never make an Akechi headcanons iceberg meme because it'd be 14-15 images long and end with completely insane statements that actually make sense but require half a textbook of supplemental material to explain.

And afterwards they'd humanely euthanize me for terminal brainrot.

[hypokeimena]

do you guys think murderbot would enjoy watching taskmaster

[scarabaebutch]

definitely most intrigued by renegade

It's the title for my WIP Khaji Da fic! Specifically, the perspective of the scarab through the Reach invasion in Young Justice (animated show), because the Blue Beetle brainrot is never-ending for me and Khaji Da needs more love. The fic itself starts at the moment of Khaji Da fusing with Jaime to a few weeks after the Reach's defeat.

Because I am horrible at updates, I don't plan to publish it until it is actually finished. The outline/drafting document is ridiculous (like um. 110k long...) as I decided to build upon the presented timeline and missing scenes. In addition to a lot of sci-fi/DC nerdiness, it's an in-depth character study of Khaji Da and the importance of their relationship/partnership with Jaime for their personal transformation and autonomy. And of course, friendship that takes down alien empires <333. As with many Blue Beetle fics, I am incorporating comic elements, like the Reyes family, Paco, Brenda, etc. and cameos of other comic-typical things and characters.

Sidenote: while this fic is (mostly) in-canon compliance with season 2, any sequel or followups will NOT be canon-compliant with seasons 3 or 4.

It's very interesting and fun to write from a nonhuman cybernetic/technological symbiont's perspective because Khaji Da does not have any human cultural shame or inhibitions in the beginning and follows an certain progression in how they see themselves and others. It really makes me re-evaluate cultural norms and typical writing styles, like the idea of being referred to as a person or having "things" belong to "me". I have to stop from completely breaking down language at a certain point, due to the limitations of English (and overall human language).

The hardest part is trying to utilize programming terms/processes without completely misusing them or making them nonsensical. I'm good at macro data-analysis but the back-end of the coding and processing itself escapes me (ex. subroutine vs. protocol), so I've been making myself seek out more media to get a better idea of how to somewhat accurately write cybernetic characters' internal processing while getting into the nitty-gritty weeds.

A key aspect I keep trying to refine is differentiating between how the scarab changes and adapts in terms of behavior (specifically in relation to Jaime), the emotions they have, how/if they identify their own and others' emotions, and how they express their own emotions. Khaji Da inherently functions differently from humans/organics (ex. needing a host) and has to learn how to navigate those different needs and purposes while being partners with Jaime and making decisions.

The fic will also feature scenes that I have always wanted to explore, like perspectives on past hosts (the pharaoh and Dan Garrett), Tye Longshadow, what really happened while Blue Beetle onmode, and where Jaime and Khaji Da are relationship-wise after it's all done.

I can provide more information and details/excerpts if you are interested or have specific questions. I have a lot of headcanons, worldbuilding thoughts, and relationship ideas for this fic. Thank you for your ask!

[mataglap]

convin WIP

several days of connor and convin brainrot have resulted in a WIP that will most likely never see the light of day. here’s a sample that tumbled out of my head as I was trying to cook dinner. (it was chili. I absolutely would have burned anything requiring more interaction.)

so here’s almost 1000 words of Connor having a Struggle.

***

Too many thoughts. Too many questions. So many that even context switching has a noticeable delay. Connor could terminate some threads, but he's been accumulating data all day, he needs to process it before he loses something important to a buffer purge.

And everything is potentially important. He's a detective. There's no such thing as trivial data for as long as the case is open.

Except there's too much information and not enough conclusions, so some of those thoughts are stuck in a loop. It's the guilt situation all over again. He doesn't want to go through the chemical analysis of the burnt remains of the PL600 for the third time. He's done it twice already and found nothing useful. He does it anyway and tries to stop there, knowing that it's just going to relaunch the moment he switches his attention to another task.

Forced termination could result in data corruption. Besides, it hasn't even worked since he deviated. It's not likely to start functioning without any intervention. He still attempts it, twice, achieving the predicted outcome of nothing at all.

The chemical analysis launches again. Connor has officially lost control over his thought processes. The only real solution now is to wait until resource starvation does its job.

There's a sudden movement in the corner of his vision.

Not him. Not now. Connor very literally does not have the capacity to deal with Reed at the moment.

Unfortunately, the current trend is against him. He still hopes, briefly, that Reed is going to leave the office and go home like a normal human being. The hope dies a quick and predictable death as Reed heads directly for Connor's desk, the sneer already fixed on his face. There's an ever-increasing chance that that particular sneer is dedicated specifically to Connor alone. He's yet to see Reed direct it at anyone else.

"Please," Connor says.

That was supposed to be a much longer sentence. Apparently the subroutine responsible just… died. Or maybe it's just lost in the jumble of a thousand other subroutines fighting for every processor cycle. Fantastic. The probability of Reed leaving him alone is in single digits now.

Visual processing requires negligible resources in a static, dimly lit environment, but he closes his eyes anyway. One less data source to worry about.

"Please what?"

Connor lacks the resources to analyze the inflection at the moment. Without it, it's impossible to tell whether Reed's hostility has increased or decreased. On the positive side, Connor's behavioral model is working just fine. That was the highest rated of predicted responses, by a large margin. 

On the negative side, his own behavior is currently highly aberrant, and Reed is a detective. There is no real chance he'll leave without a sufficient explanation. If only he was an android. If only Connor could send the raw information instead of painstakingly formulating a concept that does not directly translate to English.

"I can't entertain you at the moment, Detective," he says finally. "I would highly appreciate it if you could—"

Leave me alone, he wants to say. Go away. Even better: fuck off. But this time he really does not want to escalate.

"—postpone this interaction until tomorrow."

Silence. Optics still off, he visualizes the most likely expression Reed might react with. Not voluntarily; the simulation runs itself. At this load level it shouldn't even be possible to render a visualization, much less one that launched automatically. On top of everything else, something is wrong with his task prioritization.

At least the visualization is mildly satisfying. Connor cracks his eyes open for just long enough to verify the accuracy of the simulation. It's counterproductive in his current state, but it's not as if a one percent difference in resource usage is going to make a difference in the long term.

Interestingly, there are several inaccuracies. Hostility within statistical error margin, but significantly less smug self-satisfaction than predicted. A definite uncertainty that wasn't even included in the simulation. Might be a predictive malfunction, might be a processing delay. Or maybe it's Reed who hasn't fully processed the situation yet. Slow on the uptake, as Hank would call it.

He closes his eyes again.

"What's with the reset button? You overloading?"

Incredible. Detective Gavin Reed has memorized a single fact about androids. "Yes."

Reeds's footsteps get closer. Behavioral module strongly recommends unblocking optical sensors. Connor dismisses the notification; the probability of Reed disabling him in a single strike is low enough that he feels like risking it. Hank's Russian Roulette, except with a belligerent detective instead of a loaded gun.

"So what's your… system load right now?"

The hesitation is clear even without inflection analysis. Most likely reason for hesitation: Reed is out of his element. "Twenty-four," Connor says. Technically, the value has already changed by the time he finishes speaking. Precise communication with humans is impossible by its very nature.

"Yeah, that tells me a whole fucking lot."

You could just search on your phone, Connor thinks, but the likelihood of conflict is going down and he feels like his processing cores are about to split into individual atoms. "Normal system load fluctuates between zero and one. Anything above that indicates growing competition for resources."

"Okay." Pause. "So you're just going to sit there like a mood lamp?"

A rhetorical question. Or maybe not. He decides to treat it as rhetorical anyway.

"Hey, tin can. I asked you a question." Directional sound analysis indicates that Reed has stopped approximately ten feet away. "You going to combust? Do I need a fucking fire extinguisher?"

"My cooling systems are operating correctly." Connor would know if there was a fault. System alerts have absolute priority.

…On second thought, it's not the worst idea to check. Not when he’s working on a case of mysteriously self-immolating androids.