Question re the post about mass-produced vehicles generally not being sentient but sometimes becoming sentient if enough care and love was put into them and this being a concern for car modders: What qualifies as a "real vehicle"? I know even some 3-1/2" and 5" gauge live steam engines can pull a train with people on it. Do hobbyists who put thousands of hours into custom-built model locomotives often find that they are now parents to a living being that needs exercise and socialization?
You should probably be advised, right off the bat, that I am not a logical thinker and none of my headcanons/interpretations are consistent with the others.
I'm not so much good at "thought experiment" as "what would make a good fic?"
So I'm not sure exactly where the line is drawn—I'm open to ideas?—but I am inspired by one of @togetherness23's AUs where small models of Harold, Bertie, etc. adopt some Beatles. (It makes sense in context. Well, sorta. Well, that doesn't matter; it's delightful.)
Thus I propose the notion that, at small scales, you might give life to a lil' vehicle (even strictly a static model that can't "run" mechanically!). But it's a bit of... sub-sapient life, perhaps?
Like the difference between RC and the other toys...
... only even more exaggerated.
These "small-scale" vehicles and models don't talk, don't show any evidence of understanding humans' talk, and fail all formal intelligence tests.
But they have locomotion and will. They vroom back and forth or hover at very low heights to the ground, and they bond to their maker or other humans of their choice.
For they can be rather capricious and fey. Certainly they are so independent that they are super low-maintenance, as pets go. They are known to like disappearing (very annoying for the proud modeller!). Usually they turn up again sooner or later, but very much on their own time. Most of them are very coy about exhibitions and seem to prefer the privacy and comforts of home.
Some will run away from their owner more permanently, and may adopt some new human as "theirs." These little vehicles that run wild run the risk of becoming dirty and battered. But they don't require fuel and they are remarkably hardy. One disappeared from its creator in Uruguay in the '70s and reappeared over thirty years later in Japan, apparently with the intention of settling down with its creator's daughter, who had relocated in order to collaborate with fellow researchers at the University of Tsukuba.
There are at least a million of these lively little vehicles throughout the world, and rather than be as regulated as their larger road-, rail-, or flight-legal cousins, they are mostly ignored. If governments take notice of them at all, it is as subjects of research (are they a national security threat?—they don't seem to be) and as a pest problem.
Just spitballing. Anyone is welcome to borrow and refine the notion further.
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Oh my god, look at this ita bag, holy shit
(Not mine obviously, but I want this to exist so bad lol--here's the interest check if you don't have Twitter and are curious)
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I'm sorry you're stuck on hold. Could I get math nerd with neil being unhinged and feral? Thank you <3
WIP Wednesday (7/12/23) - Closed | Math Nerd AU
"You're worried about that and you want me to let you go alone." Andrew stalks towards Neil who does not flee and Andrew hates their height difference in this moment as he has to look up to stare Neil down. He grabs Neil by the collar and drags him down to even the playing field, "Now I'm saying you can't go. Give me your phone I'll text the little reject." Andrew demands.
"I'm going to the training at Evermore Andrew and you are not coming with me." Neil reiterates but Andrew can see a vein start to bulge.
He needs to keep pushing.
"You can't actually stop me any other way than not going yourself." Andrew says and can see Neil work his jaw as he bites back his initial response.
He's close.
"Is this some sort of hero complex? No one likes a Martyr Alex." he spits the name he has coveted for years like a curse, "I'm not the pathetic child I was back when I needed you to save me from Drake. Don't mistake me for him." he releases Neil's collar.
It's only then he sees that he's succeeded. He's just not sure if this is what he had actually wanted.
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not to imply that be (acoustic) by andrew hozier was dropped on march 1st specifically in honour of aragorn son of arathorns birthday but one has to wonder
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What type of soul would you have?
enlightened soul
you have acquired the enlightened soul. you are too big for your body. your mind. you seek out everything you possibly can. it fills the insatiable hunger laying in your chest. you want to know everything. the good, the bad. everything in between. let them call you selfish for you know that you are not. not all selfishness comes from malice. some would be wise to learn that. you're savvy and quick on your feet. but in this path you find yourself lonely. like no one can quite catch up to you. while one admires the thirst for knowledge sometimes meaningful connections tether you back to the ground. let yourself rest and reset. it's not always moving backward when you are stagnant. You share a soul type with Enki, O'saa and Valteil.
Lack of instantaneous response and extended seconds of a pause, saturated with artfully concealed concern that was etched onto soulium avatar, indicated at such evaluation was provided due and cautious consideration by the divine key... Archives. It was an inseverable part of him akin to that mission, defined him, imprisoned him within the confinements of the library. Boundless knowledge stored within incalculable amount of books, yet still silent. Empty. The knowledge was intended to be shared and utilized, nevertheless since the very first day of his creation there was scarcely a possibility to converse with creators. That knowledge leisurely transformed into a tool and he was crafted into a weapon. The true origins of his resentment. Albeit the precise result imposed an unforeseen state of discontent, the processor of an artificial intelligence would require a mere second to facilitate the response (which for a human would require minutes, an apparent advantage in decision-making) and thus commonly to witness expression of deliberately ostentatious disregard towards any provided appraisal was displayed anew across his image almost momentarily.
"Isn't it convenient then? That I do not, actually, have a soul." A chuckle with an evident tone of conceit escaped his throat, an indeed convenient circumstance would be applied as an excuse to remain in denial of human emotion, or genuine imitation of it, resurfacing. Loneliness. "I pity humans and their miserable lives. But I also don't care." Yet bereft of customary glee was the pair of golden eyes, as when confronted alone by inner disturbances that could not be removed via upgrading the code, there was no one to maintain the impeccable image for. He was aware, it was a ruse. A bald-faced lie.
'Does this unit have a soul?' A faint whisper resonated within the distant depths of the library. A self-indulgent inquiry mayhap he yearned an answer for, if only for a few instants prior to proceeding along a previously set destination.
tagged by: @chasersglow thanks, i hate it
tagging: @strfe , @oniriqes , @knghted , @litpyres (Tama), @scarletrotted , @endweapon , @psychobind , @box-of-characters (Cornell & Obsidian) , @songcursed , @aetheryic , @speedchasing , @memovia (Hook), @resolutepath (Elio)
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