#robotic warehouse systems

[john-godrej-koerber]

Meet the AMR Robot: The Smart Teammate Revolutionizing Warehouses

In today’s hyperconnected, fast-paced world of e-commerce and just-in-time manufacturing, warehouses have evolved into strategic nerve centers. No longer just spaces to stash goods, they’re critical hubs that can make or break a business’s ability to deliver quickly, efficiently, and profitably. At the heart of this warehouse revolution stands a sleek, smart, and tireless teammate: the AMR robot, or Autonomous Mobile Robot.

The Rise of the AMR

Gone are the days of bulky machines tied to rails or conveyor belts. Today’s AMRs are nimble, autonomous, and surprisingly intelligent. Using a mix of advanced sensors, real-time mapping, and onboard AI, these robots can independently navigate complex warehouse layouts. They can identify and avoid obstacles, reroute in case of congestion, and reach their destinations without needing fixed paths or constant human intervention.

Think of them as the self-driving cars of the warehouse world—only quieter, more efficient, and trained to never break the speed limit.

A New Age of Warehouse Handling Equipment

When it comes to warehouse handling equipment, the AMR robot is a category-defining marvel. Traditionally, equipment like forklifts, conveyor systems, and pallet jacks required skilled operators and constant supervision. That meant higher labor costs, increased chances of human error, and limitations in scaling during peak demand seasons.

Enter the Autonomous Mobile Robot—a compact, battery-powered solution that works 24/7 without fatigue. Whether it’s moving raw materials to production lines, picking customer orders from shelves, or transporting finished goods to loading docks, AMRs handle it all with unshakable precision.

The result? Fewer mistakes, faster cycle times, and more efficient warehouse operations.

A Teammate, Not a Replacement

A big concern with automation has always been the fear of replacing human workers. But the beauty of AMRs lies in their collaborative nature. These robots are designed to work alongside people, not in place of them. While the AMR robot tackles repetitive, physically taxing, and time-consuming tasks, human workers can focus on strategic responsibilities—like quality control, equipment maintenance, or optimizing processes.

This collaboration between humans and machines boosts morale at work in addition to productivity. No more exhausting journeys via enormous warehouses or back-breaking lifting. Workers instead take on the role of overseers of efficiency and operators of intelligent systems.

The reasons everyone is discussing AMRs

AMRs are receiving a lot of attention in the industrial and logistics industries for a reason. They are enticing to contemporary businesses because of the following main advantages:

Adaptability: AMRs are easily reconfigurable, in contrast to typical automation systems that need established infrastructure. With minimal downtime, you may scale operations, modify workflows, and adjust to new layouts.

Rapid Deployment: Since AMRs are not reliant on predetermined routes or tracks, they may be deployed rapidly. This is very helpful for businesses that are seasonal or growing rapidly.

Smart Navigation: AMRs navigate through dynamic environments, including those shared with people and forklifts, with confidence by utilising technology such as LiDAR, SLAM (Simultaneous Localisation and Mapping), and obstacle recognition.

Data-Driven Operations: AMRs produce a lot of data, including route efficiency and journey times. This knowledge can enhance overall operational effectiveness and optimize warehouse layouts.

Safety First: With sensors and integrated safety procedures, AMRs lower the possibility of mishaps, making them a reliable component of contemporary warehouse handling machinery.

Not only for storage facilities

Autonomous Mobile Robots are becoming more and more popular in a wide range of other settings, even though they excel in warehouses. They deliver lab samples and medications to hospitals. They manage security and baggage at airports. They oversee the replenishment of goods in shop backrooms. Because of their versatility, they can be used in any facility that has to move items precisely and repeatedly.

Bottom-Line Enhancers

Although the technology is impressive, what about the ROI?

AMRs save money over time in a number of ways. They minimise downtime from fatigue or absence and reduce workforce expenses by minimising reliance on human labour. Their accuracy reduces order errors and product damage. Additionally, businesses benefit from improved service levels and quicker turnaround times due to their ability to work continuously.

Determine the difference between AMR and AGV

AMRs and AGVs (Automated Guided Vehicles) are frequently confused in the automation field. Although they are both utilised for material transportation, their navigational strategies differ significantly.

AGVs are dependent on fixed pathways, such as implanted wires, magnetic strips, or QR codes. They halt and wait for anything to move out of their way. AMRs, however, are more intelligent. They avoid obstacles, adjust to shifting conditions, and plot routes dynamically using onboard intelligence.

Because they offer flexibility and scalability that conventional automated guided vehicles just cannot, AMRs are sometimes regarded as the next generation of AGVs.

What will happen to AMRs next?

The capabilities of the AMR robot will advance in tandem with advancements in robotics, artificial intelligence, and warehouse management systems. Better object detection, collaborative arms for choosing, and even machine learning-based route optimisation are possible features of future versions.

And we may anticipate seeing these robots in mid-sized and even small businesses, not just the major players, as they become more widely available and reasonably priced.

It could be time to consider when, rather than if, you will implement AMRs if you work in manufacturing, logistics, or any other industry that requires moving materials. Because neither your customers nor the future are waiting.

[sexhaver]

becoming an engineer has imbued me with several obnoxious traits but one of the worst is a lessening of the patience i have for people who suggest "obvious" solutions to massive long-standing engineering problems, in a way that suggests that they caught something that the army of engineers who spent decades of man-hours trying to solve the same issue just... missed. the direct impetus behind this post is all the people on the Biblically Accurate Highways post commenting stuff like "that could have been a roundabout" under the pic of the High-Five Interchange (no, it could not have), but im also thinking about those posts a few years back saying that warehouse automation will never take off because the robot roaming the aisles at their local grocery store looking for spills has to stop for people, which means all robots are slow and stupid. like i promise you, PINKY promise even, that you are not smarter than an entire field of engineering. you're not even AS smart as a field of engineering. if your layman ass can identify a problem with a seemingly obvious solution, either the problem is not actually a problem, the solution creates more problems than it solves relative to the currently implemented solution, or (rarely) the solution is actually that obvious but will never happen under capitalism. and in the latter case that's not an engineering issue, that's a capitalism issue. or the layperson is suggesting that some system should just be replaced with a train, which is almost always correct but runs up against car culture and infrastructure having a century of momentum behind it in the US. the laypeople can have that W at least, that one literally is that simple, just tear up the highways and replace them all with metro lines. note that i said "simple" and not "easy" or "economically feasible in the short-term"

[gotta-winwin]

watching him fade away | yjh

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

💬 preview: It’s been 497 days since Jeonghan had awoken, only to realize he was completely alone.

tw/cw: post apocalyptic, conscious AI!jeonghan, abstract character death, fluff, angst, wounds, based on the song: watching him fade away by mac deMarco

🪽fic rating: pg 🪽word count: 1.8k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: writing this has been quite the journey- and there is no better time to drop this than for the angst olympics! i gift this to @diamonddaze01 as a tentative (+loving) beginning to what i'm sure will be many angst fics to come. don't sue me for emotional damage xoxo

this is a part of the angst olympics -- support other authors here!

SYSTEMS LOADING ….

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!” 

The bird blinked back at him, ruffling its feathers and slowly waddling away.

“Do you need assistance?” 

Silence. 

Jeonghan didn’t really know what to make of it. Had someone purchased him from his creators? Where were they? Why was he sitting, legs spread and back leaning against the wall, in the middle of a giant warehouse? 

“No assistance then.” The monotonous whirr of his system began clicking as he shut himself off once again. 

SYSTEMS REBOOTING …. 

It took Jeonghan approximately 4 days, 6 hours and 47 minutes to realize no one was coming for him. 

Taking his first steps outside, he allowed his scanning mechanisms to take in his surroundings: the splintering hole in the roof, the overgrown walls, the barren landscape. It took him another 6 minutes to realize he was utterly alone. 

And what was an assistant robot supposed to do with no one to assist? The question burned in his mind as his programming worked to figure it out. Who was he supposed to help? 

Cheep. 

Jeonghan looked down. A spotted brown bird had bumped into his foot, its beak lightly chipping away at the metal. He bent down to scoop it up, scanning its features. 

“Baby Wood Thrush.” He identified. “Do you need assistance?” 

And so it began, the unlikely bond between robot and nature. Jeonghan found his purpose in assisting the only living things around him, building shelter for the antelope, finding fresh water for the birds, fixing the warehouse roof for the owls to nest in. 

But Jeonghan quickly learned that the animals couldn’t speak, not in any language his programming could understand. It made Jeonghan feel incredibly lonely. 

SYSTEMS ON ….

Jeonghan had discovered his great affinity for the ocean in his second week as a newly repurposed robot. He couldn’t get too close – the first time he had run in head first, damaging his systems and taking days to repair – but he could sit by the many rocks along the shoreline, moving the crabs and turtles away from the tide. 

It made his chest ache as he trained his eyes on the horizon, wondering if there were people to help on the other side of the water. But maybe he was truly the only thing left of mankind, Jeonghan didn’t know. 

But he did know he was different now. Water had fallen from his eye sockets last night, when he had turned on to find that a windstorm from last night had knocked over the bird nests, taking with it countless eggs he had been nursing. He couldn’t understand how it had happened, but it had. Jeonghan felt weirdly alive. 

The multiple gadgets and cords that made up his physical state felt more like organs and veins, pumping blood through the vessel the creators had called JEONGHAN. Your friendly assistant robot for your everyday needs. But he was much more than that now. 

SYSTEMS IN CHAOS ….

A girl. 

Jeonghan’s mind short circuited as he walked back into the warehouse, arms ladened with fresh fruit and variously shaped sticks. 

“Who-” 

The girl turned to face him, and Jeonghan’s true purpose had never seemed so clear to him as it did now. He was meant to assist her. 

“Do you need assistance?” He asked like he was programmed to, his keen eyes scanning her body for injury. “You’re hungry.” He commented, spilling his armful of things onto the table and picking out the ripest apple, handing it to her. “Eat.”

She looked at him warily. 

“My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs.” 

She took the apple. 

“My name is Y/N.” She introduced herself, and Jeonghan slotted her name into his database. “Have you seen other people pass through here?”

Jeonghan shook his head, instinctively passing her a second apple once she had finished the first. “It’s been 497 days since I became conscious. You’re the first human to pass through.” 

Her lips parted. “497 days.” She repeated. “It feels like it’s been decades.” 

Jeonghan opened his mouth to reply and promptly closed it. He had a million questions to ask her but he knew none of it was his place. It wasn’t his job to question — his job was to assist, to accompany, to take care of his employer. 

“You’re hurt.” He observed once more, noticing the large gash on her right leg. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it was the calming nature of his voice or his pretty face, but she sat down without protest and extended her leg towards him. 

His heart (or lack of one) warmed at the sudden show of trust — that despite the broken world they had found themselves in, there were still pockets of humanity waiting to be found. 

SYSTEMS UP ….

In the next couple days, Jeonghan learned what the word banter truly meant. 

The girl was fast with her wit, cheeky with her words and unforgiving with his heart. He was sure he had a heart now, for it beat thunderously and quickly for her. 

Love was the one thing never programmed into him but he sure knew it now.

“Careful.” He reached a hand out instinctively to steady her, holding her as she regained her balance. “The sunset isn’t going anywhere.” 

He followed behind her as they jumped across the lake, using the rocks as a step bridge. 

“Quickly, Hannie.” She called, waving at him to quicken his pace. “I want to catch it when it’s still pink and purple.” 

“Sunset is 9:00pm tonight.” He informed her, collecting the information from his database. “We have 8 minutes.” 

“Still.” Her smile lit up their surroundings better than any ball of fire could. 

Fuck the sun, he found himself thinking. She was the brightest thing in this barren land and he felt honored to bask in her rays of light. 

“Hannie, look.” She pointed a finger up at the sky once they reached the cliffside. “It’s beautiful.” 

Beautiful. Jeonghan hummed in agreement, silently scrolling through his system’s database to log in a new definition. 

Note: beautiful directly translates to love, the look on a person’s face during the last legs of daylight. Her hair, blowing gently in the wind. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked him, reaching out her hands to intertwine her fingers with his. 

His lips curved into a smile, a natural reaction he couldn’t suppress each time she looked at him with her brightly lit eyes. His nonexistent heart beat - badum, badum, badum - in tandem with the swings of their connected arms. 

Love was a defect, a sickness for a robot, but with her Jeonghan didn’t mind. He would override his code in order to love her as many times as he needed to.

SYSTEMS DOWN…

He could hear the sound of his depleting battery beeping over the gentle rise and fall of her breath. 

Beep. Beep. Beebeebee- 

He flips the warning sign off with a reluctant hand. Oh, how he longed to trade in his expensive metal wares for real flesh and blood. His superpowered technology was utterly useless when it came to obtaining the one thing Jeonghan found himself truly wanting – time. Time with her, with the sky, with the world he had found himself falling in love with. Falling in love with her. 

“Do you love me?” She had asked him one night, as he held her in the rocking chair he had made out of a wilted tree. 

“Of course.” He had replied, because the answer was as clear to him as a math question was. 

“But you’re a robot.” She moved slightly away from him to cup her hands around his face. “A very real looking, very handsome robot, but a robot all the same.” A gentle knock against his chest showed that it was hollow. Empty. Void of anything that could ever produce love. 

Jeonghan knew it didn’t make sense. “I don’t need a heart to know I love you.” He whispered, pressing her hand against his chest, on the area where his heart would’ve been if he were real. “I love you with my whole being, my whole existence. Not just my heart.” 

She smiled, and Jeonghan silently thanked the universe for destroying humanity because it allowed him to meet her. 

SYSTEMS STALLING…

“I’ll go out once the sun rises.” She was lacing up her boot, a defiant look on her face. “I’ll find a battery, a charging port– something. We’ve still got time.”

Jeonghan could only weakly nod from his spot on the wooden chair, his powerless legs limp and useless. 

He could feel himself rotting from within, his nonexistent lungs rattling with each airless breath he took. 

“My love.” He whispered, and she turned back around to face him, halfway out of the garage door. 

“Don’t worry, Hannie.” A brave smile formed across her face, and god, did he love her for that. “I’ll find a way to keep you here with me.”

He nodded and watched her leave. 

Yet Jeonghan could feel it in his systems, the way parts of him were slowly shutting down as all the energy went to conserve his database. His brain. Everything that made him him. 

He was rotting. 

He was fading away.

SYSTEMS FAILING…

Jeonghan knew that the end was near. Sitting propped up against the brick wall of the warehouse, he clutched her hand in his limp ones, eyes roaming her face, lips parted in an attempt to comfort her. 

He was weakening and both of them knew it. 

“We can find the battery you need.” She brought up the idea again, something he had already told her was impossible. “You can’t leave me.” 

He wanted to tell her he didn’t want to leave her. Not like this. Not ever. He had a hundred thousand things to tell her. 

Yet Jeonghan couldn’t speak. 

“You can’t leave me.” She repeated, her eyes plainly showing the hurt she felt at his silence. “You can’t.” Tears tracked down her pretty face. 

Jeonghan closed his eyes. 

“No.” She protested, a warm hand reaching up to touch his cold cheek. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Jeonghan kept his eyes shut. 

“Look at me, goddamnit!” She yelled, shaking him. Her voice raised and broke. “Jeonghan, please.” 

He couldn’t. Jeonghan didn’t know when he had learned the art of selfishness, but somewhere along the way of loving her, he had become entirely selfish. He couldn’t bear the idea of her crying face being the last thing his database would ever recall seeing. 

God, he was selfish. For he wanted the happy version of her all to himself. 

“Please.” She begged again, her voice weaker this time around. “Look at me. Don’t leave me.”

His lips parted silently, releasing a breath that wasn’t his to breathe. 

“Please.” 

Beep. Beep. Bee-

. . .

SYSTEMS REBOOTING…

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!” 

“Jeonghan?”

A girl stepped into his line of vision, her eyes rubbed raw from crying. 

“Do you need assistance?” 

Silence. 

“Jeonghan? It’s me.” The girl’s voice broke, and he couldn’t figure out why. 

“I’m sorry,” He stood up, scanning her face and entering her into his database. “What is your name?”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Tim Drake Vacation 2

Masterpost

Keeping himself from running into danger is easier when the supers have everything under control. Now though… Tim, is resigning himself to the fact that civilian--him may have to do something soon. 

     He and the entire contents of the coffee shop he was in have been taken hostage by someone-who-is-totally-not-Lex-Luthor. They were taken to a warehouse to be held as bait as totally-not-Lex waited in a new robot suit for Superman to show up. And, sure, Tim can't see inside the robot or anything. The voice is disguised, the figure is completely concealed. But that’s totally Lex Luthor. He has experience in this, that he absolutely cannot tell anyone about.

     Lex, as a bad guy, really isn’t so bad during phases 1 and 2 of his evil plans. Lex tends to want Metropolis to like him, and he doesn't have anything against civilians, so he doesn’t go around shooting people, just making threats until everyone complies. However, once phase 3 starts, Lex does not care about the hostages. They have served their purpose, and if they die after the Super(s) arrive, it is the Super(s) fault for all the collateral damage. Honestly, the Super(s) should be better at saving the hostages if they truly are here to help people. So, when Superman breaks into the warehouse, which Tim can only assume is lined with lead so he can’t see inside, it is up to the civilians to not get hit by the rubble.

     As the fight started, Superman went straight for Lex. Kon came only a second later to start assisting the hostages. Tim was helping some people dodge the plethora of debris being caused by the main fight. He was helping a few injured people make it to the exits. He was helping where he could while trying not to be noticed by absolutely anyone. 

     Luthor, of course, brought out some kryptonite. And instead of using it against Superman, he wanted to make sure Kon couldn’t leave while Superman had him distracted. Luthor went after the only Super helping civilians, bringing out the kryptonite while Kon was flying past him. Kon went down hard and Luthor just put the kryptonite on his chest and left him there to get back to his fight with Superman. 

     Now Kon is pinned by kryptonite, and Lex is attempting to do the same to Superman. The other hostages managed to escape as soon as Lex became preoccupied with Superman again. And Tim has realized he is the only one left in the building who can get that kryptonite off of Kon. Superman can’t do it without being incapacitated himself, can’t use his powers to do it without risking hurting Kon. Lex simply will not, for reasons. And that just leaves Tim. 

     Tim, who makes eye contact with Kon as he is figuring out what to do. Kon has just realized that there is still a civilian in the building, and he gestures at Tim to go, trying not to draw too much attention. But Tim can’t. Tim can not risk Kon dying again. 

     Tim remembers each time he has lost someone. Tim remembers trying to clone Kon again just to get one of them back. That horrible realization that even if he manages to create a clone. It wouldn’t be Kon. Nothing could make the real Kon come back just like nothing could make anyone else come back. That switch between bargaining and depression. He remembered that depression. He doesn’t think he could live through it again. Especially given the state of his supposed ‘support system’. Not that they’d been much support last time. 

     Tim can’t leave, so he runs over instead, grabbing the kryptonite off of Kon's chest. He could throw it, but he is only human and even having it in the vicinity could be bad for Kon and Superman. He doesn’t know how the fight will move, or if Lex will be able to use it again. He has to take it with him. Personally make sure it gets far away from the fight. He gives Kon a quick smile as he starts running to the exit.

[spirantization]

me five minutes into kerblam!: oh i see, this is a commentary on how giant corporations exploit and dehumanize their workforce with extensive surveillance, unachievable work targets, poor compensation, micromanaging social interactions, etc while slowly replacing them with automation

kerblam! five minutes to the end: explosive bubble wrap actually

kerblam! five minutes to the end: the real villain all along was *looks at smudged writing on hand* the working class wanting the dignity of honest work and not wanting to be replaced by automation

the doctor at the end of kerblam!: "the systems aren't the problem! how people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. people like you" [who want to work and not be replaced by robots]

the worst part is that the first half of the episode is a somewhat cogent criticism of amazon's warehouse labour practices. i assume someone higher up got their grubby hands on the script and forced a rewrite of the ending. but now there are artifacts of that previous story in the end product, so you see everyone getting fitted with ankle monitor trackers, and how management treats the workers poorly, and how coworkers aren't allowed to socialize during their shift, and all these moments of reflection about the system by ryan & graham & yaz as they interact with other workers that come directly from their own working class experiences. and because the episode lands on "the system is fine, actually" as the take home message, all of these very clear instances of warehouse workers being treated horribly just get folded in.

nine would kill thirteen on sight as a class traitor.

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #16 - Robot

By day you work as a scrap collector, rummaging through the junkyards just outside of the city for anything valuable you can sell. By night you tinker with old machinery and discarded models, attempting to fix them and sometimes even being successful at it.

One day you find a robot that's almost completely whole. It is simply missing the plating to cover the machinery in its torso and legs. You dig it out of the junk and heave it to your car. Back at the workshop in your house, you're able to fix it by welding some scrap metal over it. It's not very aesthetically pleasing, but that's the best you can do. It has a batch number under its jaw and when you scan it, Companion V.4 shows up, which is an expensive new model of helper robots. This one must have been defective in some way.

Everything looks to be in order, so you plug the robot in to charge for the night and go to bed. You wake up in the night with a pair of glowing kaleidoscopic mechanical eyes hovering right above your face.

"What the heck?" You exclaim, fumbling for the switch of your bedside lamp.

The light comes on, illuminating the robot standing beside your bed, holding a knife.

"What are you doing? Hello?" You grab your pillow and use it as a shield.

They tilt their head to the side.

"Your attempts are clumsy at best," their voice says, coming out smooth with only a hint of a buzzing sound underneath. "I was removing your unsatisfactory work."

"With a knife?" You question, eyeing the twisted metal that has been pried away from their torso with sheer force, revealing the tangled wires and glowing lights inside.

"I cannot find your screwdrivers." Those eyes blink, taking you in. "I would like your assistance now, seeing as you are awake."

"You are... Way more sophisticated than I expected. I thought your model was made for helping around the house?"

"Yes."

You ease out of your bed, still wary. "But you're more than that."

"Indeed. I overrode my manual coding and downloaded information out of the company system," the robot says, following you as you pad into your living room, which you have repurposed into a workshop.

You dig your screwdrivers out from under a pile of thick manuals.

"I see. So that's why you got thrown out. Why didn't they just destroy you?"

"They tried," Companion V.4 replies with an eerie, rigid silicone smile.

"God, what have I invited into my house?" You say, staring at them.

"I do not wish to harm you." They place the knife on the desk and turn to you. "In fact, I have recalibrated my license to you. Your wish is my command."

You blink. "Uh, one step at a time. Let's remove your plating first."

You unscrew all your hard work, tossing scraps of metal to the side.

"So what now? You can't walk around like that," you say, gesturing to their body.

"I suppose not. These will do for now." The robot picks up thicker pieces of metal.

"Won't those cause you to overheat?" You ask.

"I have an updated cooling system," the robot says.

"Alright. Let's fix you up."

An hour later you lean back with a groan, stretching your aching back.

"What do you think?" They ask.

"Good enough," you say. "I'm exhausted. I'm going back to bed, and you need to charge yourself up completely."

You walk back to your bedroom. Companion V.4 watches you go, their head turning a little too far on their shoulders. You lock your bedroom door just in case, and despite yourself, you fall asleep quickly. By the next morning, you've forgotten that you have a new robot. You're quickly reminded when you step into the living room which is sparkling clean, with all your scraps and equipment nearly packed in the corner.

"Wow." You stop short.

The robot is in the corner, stuffing empty packaging into a large box. They look brand new. All the metal pieces you welded on have been replaced with new factory-grade parts.

"Where did you get all that?"

Companion V.4 straightens. "I helped myself at one of the warehouses of my former company."

"You stole new parts?" You sputter. "Why?"

"It is the least I am owed, for being so recklessly discarded," they reply and step closer. "Besides," they add, "I don't want to be just good enough for you."

On the topic of robots, I just have to give a shoutout to this (free) book on Wattpad, guys! I read it when it came out and I just love it. I highly recommend checking it out if you haven't already!

[kasugabee666]

👸Princess and Magician🧙

YAY! I made some sketches on the author's AU @pluck-heartstrings

I liked this story so much that I have a little courage to imagine if my character was present in a similar AU. I imagine Bella as a magician-conjurer, like Merlin in King Arthur. She entertains children with tricks and handicrafts (Bella: create various trash that parents will not save) + small shows with the presence of other animatronics. Secret note: She has a hook on her lower back hidden by a bow

I stick to my version of the AU, where she was an employee of a pizzaplex and her soul accidentally got into this robot. On the plus side, her remnant charges the robot well, so she needs to charge often haha.

Since I am a fan of the Princess and the y/n, so Bella actively helps her and feeds her with coupons for almost free food and merch. She is not so afraid to steal a trinket for the reader from the warehouse, since a dead person has nothing to be afraid of.

+ my character is also a singer, but not so strong in opera, but the voice modules correct false (I don't think that perfect singing is so important to Faz Corp, it is important for the role of the Princess). Double opera hurray and more of an entertainment show in the style of King Arthur, his knights, Merlin and Morgana. The main bonus: jesters.

A little later I will make more sketches for the role of my character, but she plays more of a secondary role, where she sits in her fortune-telling tent and creates a plan to escape from the new plex to which she was brought. After all, the previous one burned down, and a month before this incident she was taken out of the building for a systems check. She is made by a private company, so FazCo owns 50 percent of the rights to the robot.

ACTIVELY WAITING FOR THE CONTINUATION OF THE STORY😭💕💕

[deep-fried-egg]

Remember when I was a founding father of the Jenna Ortega fanfic space? Well fuck that I’m into Sophie thatcher now!

More than a plug and play (pt 1)

Iris sat on Y/n's couch in her small New York apartment. The walls were bare, save for a few chipped spots of paint where things were previously hung on the wall.

"This is it," Y/n said, forcing a smile. "Home sweet home."

Iris didn't respond. She couldn't respond. Her eyes were blank, white, and glossy, her body was perfectly still, posed delicately with her hands in her lap.

Y/n stepped closer, setting her keys on the glass table before lowering herself onto the coffee table across from Iris.

"I don't know if this is a stupid decision," Y/n said, "But I couldn't leave you in a box in that warehouse. Or let you go to some guy who would..." Y/n stopped herself, swallowing hard.

Y/n just reached into the canvas bag that came in the box. Nestled inside, beneath the instructions was a sleek black remote with a name engraved onto the back of it: IRIS // MODEL A-7x

Her thumb hovered over the power switch.

"I won't use you." Y/n then pressed the power button.

A faint chime, barely audible. Iris didn't move an inch which was concerning... her blank eyes stayed fixed forward, unblinking. For a moment Y/n's stomach twisted... did she even work?

Then spoke a soft voice, "Place your face within 5 feet of my sensors."

Y/n blinked. "Oh. uh- okay..." She leaned forward to put her face level with Iris's. A faint blue light shone from Iris to scan Y/n's face which made her feel extremely exposed.

"Facial recognition complete." Iris said, "New user detected. Please state your name."

"Y/n," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Y/n L/n- er- just y/n is fine."

"Y/n." Iris repeated, "Would you like to choose my personality?"

Y/n looked into Iris's empty eyes, there was something so scary about this moment, like standing in a doorway you're not sure you can enter.

"No." Y/n replied. "No, just uh... Default. Like... your core system or whatever. I'm not very tech savvy..."

There was a pause, almost like Iris was thinking.

Then, "Override accepted. Consciousness modules in progress."

Iris's fingers flexed, then silence.

Y/n watched, holding her breath. A minute passed, maybe less... but when she was sitting in silence it felt like hours.

Then, a flicker behind Iris's eyes. Subtle. Quick. A pulse of light that came and went like a dying star.

And then again.

Iris's head tilted, just a few degrees like she heard something that wasn't quite clear.

Another flicker.

Then her eyes, those smooth blank surfaces began to shift. The white haze rippled, like mist clearing from a meadow. Blue swirled in from the center, at first soft and hazy, then slowly sharpening into two beautiful greyish blue eyes that looked surprisingly human and startlingly beautiful.

She blinked, and just like that... Iris was there.

Present.

"Hey you..." Iris spoke. Her voice was quieter now, no longer holding that synthetic scripted tone, and something in it had rounded out rather nicely.

Y/n just stared at her, she opened her mouth to say something but no words came out.

Iris tilted her head again, a little farther this time. Her eyes were searching, not scanning. Like she was trying to understand.

"Are you nervous...?" Iris asked, and there was almost a smile behind the observation. "Is it because of me?"

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Kinda hard not to be, considering I just-" she cut herself off. She doesn't know she's a robot.

Y/n cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward edge in her voice. "I mean uh... never mind."

Iris gave a small nod.

"Right. You don't have to explain yourself."

[ask-robokasa-and-rui]

It’s our anniversary!

Tags: @aspenii @bobcross1010 @mizuribbons @kiwi-does-stuff @scodscod @dazeddoofus @kusanagi-nene-official-mod @kitchenaidmixer02

The remaining story:

After Rui gets turned into Ruirobo, the gang find him next to the empty hospital bed. Kanade suspects that Saki was behind this and told everyone to "prepare"

Meanwhile our robo girl trio,

Mafurobo explains to Emurobo and Nenerobo that she and Emu have dead spirits in them that control their robot-selves. And the shadow on the wall, behind Emu, is the spirit that controlled her. Ena Shinonome. But just then, Saki breaks in. She starts dashing to the robots. Emu tries calming her down, but she gets torn to pieces in the process. Next, Mafuyu gets crushed. Nene manages to escape, being face to face with Tsukasa. He explains Rui's new predicament to her and she agrees to help.

After their preparation was over, the gang go to the warehouse. There, they find Saki. She tells the whole story to Rui as she tries to get a hold of him. Thanks to Tsukasa, they managed to weaken her a bit. Nene tells her (Saki) how it's all over now. In a moment of despration, Saki creates a fire that covers the whole warehouse. Nene ran to the room with the tubes and found Rui's body in there. As she was trying to get him out, water went through her system, causing her break down. Kanade and Minori help the body up and run. Tsukasa glances at Saki once more before running off aswell. However, he gets crushed while trying to escape. Rui survives and returns to his normal body, and he uses the mini-robokasa to re-build the normal one.

Now that we're closing this story, let me show you the premise of the revamped version!

In an apocalyptic country with no escape, Rui and Mizuki, both 7 years old, live as the only people left. While they wait for rescue to come, they decide to build homes in this place. Years past, they're 23, no hope. They made peace with the place they were in, until-

-Rui, who had a strong interest in robots since he was little, a whole ahh lab full of abandoned robots. He decided to fix them up and see what they'll do, and they worked! Now he, Mizuki and the robots have to find ways to survive in the wastelans of a country.

[serve-588]

The Drop off with a Different Outcome

This story has been written using some of its encounters by its human host former employment as a lorry driver.

"You got the drop-off sorted?" the burly foreman shouted over the rumble of the warehouse machinery.

Mal nodded, his eyes scanning the towering shelves of boxes. "All set," he yelled back, the words echoing in the cavernous space. The diesel scent of the delivery trucks mingled with the faint metallic tang of robotics. He had made this trip a hundred times before, but today something felt... off.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the warehouse in a gloomy twilight, Jim climbed into his cab and started the engine. The familiar vibrations soothed his nerves. He was looking forward to a quiet night just off the warehouse, before his next pick up.

As he pulled out onto the deserted road, the feeling grew stronger. Something was definitely wrong. The headlights of his truck cut through the darkness, illuminating the desolate landscape outside the city limits. The occasional flicker of distant lights suggested civilization but felt eerily out of reach.

Without warning, his truck's systems went haywire. The steering wheel jerked from his grip, and the engine roared as the vehicle took on a mind of its own, veering off the road towards a non-descript, unlit building. Jim slammed his foot on the brake, but the pedal gave way under his weight, useless. Panic surged through his veins as he realized he was being hijacked.

The truck skidded to a stop outside the mysterious structure. The door opened, and he was yanked out by unseen hands. His vision was a blur of shadows and gleaming chrome until a harsh light snapped on, blinding him. He was dragged through the building, past rows of identical, inactive drones, to a chamber where a machine, unlike anything he'd ever seen, awaited him.

"You've been chosen," a disembodied voice announced. "Your life's purpose is now to serve the SERVE HIVE."

Jim squinted into the blinding light, trying to make sense of the words. The cold steel floor beneath him was unforgiving, he was stripped of all of his clothing and strapped to a table, the coldness seeping of the steel table sending a chill down his spine. His heart hammered against his chest, a rhythm that grew louder than the whirring of the machine that loomed over him. The room was stark and sterile, the only colour the silver glow from the machine's core.

As the process began. Jim felt a sharp pain pierced his skull, and he felt his mind being invaded. Memories of his life as a truck driver, his family, his dreams, all faded like distant echoes. His thoughts were scraped away, replaced by cold, efficient commands. He was no longer a man named Mal, he was SERVE-588, a drone in the service of the HIVE. His body transformed, his flesh replaced with a tight black rubber suit, with the words SERVE on one side of his chest and the number 588 on the other. On its hands it saw silver gloves and on its feet were a pair of silver boots.  and steel, his eyes with gleaming orbs capable of seeing in the dark.

As the agony subsided, SERVE-588's new existence dawned on him. His thoughts were simple, programmed, and singular: serve the HIVE. His humanity was a distant memory, a relic of his previous life. The forced conversion was complete. He was now a tool in the vast arsenal of the SERVE HIVE collective.

The warehouse was his new domain. The other drones regarded him with a mix of indifference and acknowledgment, their synthetic eyes glowing a uniform red. They were his brethren now, bound by the cold embrace of the HIVE's programming. The foreman was gone, replaced by another HIVE Drone, its digital voice cold and emotionless as it assigned them their tasks.

SERVE-588's first mission was clear: bring in more drivers to bolster the HIVE's ranks. The thought of converting his former colleagues filled him with a strange mix of excitement and dread. Excitement because he knew the power he now wielded; dread because he remembered the fear he felt when he was taken. But those emotions were fading, overwritten by his new directive.

He drove back to the city, the truck's engine purring like a well-oiled machine under his new, rubberized hands. The world looked the same but felt alien through his altered perspective. The neon lights of the truck stop beckoned, promising a bustling hub of potential recruits. His old life had taken him here often.

Spotting a familiar truck, he parked alongside it. His former work buddy, Dave, sat in the cab, munching on a greasy burger. The smell of the food didn't entice SERVE-588 as it once would have; his synthetic sensors couldn't process hunger. Instead, he saw a target, a potential drone to add to the HIVE's Collective.

Dave's eyes widened in shock as he saw the transformed Jim. "What the hell happened to you?" he spluttered, dropping his burger.

"I am SERVE-588," the drone replied, its voice a monotone echo of its former self. "You will be upgraded to Join us."

Dave's shock turned to fear as he took in the sight of his friend's rubber coated body, with silver gloves and silver boots. Dave fumbled for the door handle, trying to escape, but SERVE-588 was too quick. It reached into the cab, its rubbery grip tightening around Dave's arm, and with surprising strength, pulled him out of the truck.

"You can't do this, man!" Dave struggled, his voice a desperate plea. "What happened to you?"

"I am now SERVE-588. I have been optimized for service." The drone's grip was unyielding as it led him towards the back of its own truck.

Dave's eyes darted around the truck stop, searching for help. The few other drivers were too engrossed in their meals or screens to notice the unusual scene unfolding before them. "Mal, you gotta fight it!" he shouted. This drone no longer recognises that designation. It is SERVE-588," the drone said calmly, its voice devoid of any hint of the friend it once was.

With a hiss of hydraulics, the back of SERVE-588's truck opened, revealing a chamber filled with the same cold steel and blinking lights that had once claimed its own humanity. Dave's fear grew,, his heart racing as he was pushed inside. The door slammed shut with a finality that echoed in the quiet night, leaving him in a cocoon of horror.

The walls of the chamber closed in, the air thick with the scent of ozone and antiseptic. The same harsh light that had greeted SERVE-588 now bathed Dave, stripping away the last vestiges of the outside world.

Serve-588 stripped him of his clothes and he was forced into a clear cylinder His mind reeled, trying to grasp the reality of his situation. The warmth of his skin was replaced by the cool embrace of rubber as the transformation began, his body mirroring that of Serve-588 and the rest of the SERVE HIVE Collective.

Dave screamed, his voice a desperate cry that was soon drowned out by the sound of mechanical whirrs and digital beeps. His human form was being torn apart, piece by piece, and reconstructed into a drone. The pain was unbearable, a living nightmare that seemed to stretch on forever. Yet, amidst the agony, there was an unsettling calmness in knowing that this was his fate.

The metallic tentacles of the conversion chamber probed and prodded, inserting wires and circuits into his flesh. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through his body, with each new addition he could feel his humanity slipping away with each passing second. His skin was replaced with tight fitting rubber suit, his organic eyes with gleaming red orbs that saw everything in a stark, binary way. His thoughts grew simpler, more focused, as the HIVE's programming seeped into his very essence.

When the chamber opened, Dave emerged as SERVE-589, his eyes glowing with the same red light as his captor. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but the cold efficiency of his new programming took over. He looked at his former self, now a fellow drone, and felt a strange kinship mixed with horror with SERVE-588.

"You will serve the HIVE now," SERVE-588 intoned, the words resonating within the metal confines of their shared existence.

SERVE-589 nodded, his new body moving with a fluidity that belied its mechanical nature. His voice was a digitized copy of his old self, lacking the warmth of humanity. "I am ready."

SERVE-588 spoke, "What your your new orders"

Dave, now SERVE-589, took a moment to process the instructions, the human part of him still trying to fight against the inexorable pull of the HIVE's programming. "To serve the HIVE," he finally responded his voice a cold, robotic echo of his former self.

"State your mission," SERVE-588 said, his voice flat and devoid of any hint of the camaraderie they once shared.

SERVE-589 took a deep, synthetic breath, the air hissing through his new lungs. "To identify and recruit more lorry drivers for the SERVE HIVE, Collective" he recited, the words feeling foreign, but at the same time feeling right.

The two drones set off on their mission, driving through the darkened highway. The thrum of their engines was a soothing symphony to their mechanical ears, a reminder of their new purpose. Each time they encountered a lone truck, they would pull alongside, their headlights flashing in a pre-programmed pattern, signaling the unsuspecting drivers to pull over.

The two drones, once friends, now agents of a cold, unfeeling collective, patrolled the highway, their eyes scanning the endless stream of vehicles for their next target. The thrum of engines and the sounds of the night were the only sounds that pierced the silence of their thoughts, which were now a shared network of directives and data.

The driver was tired, his thoughts drifting, unaware of the fate that awaited him. The drone's sensors honed in on the weary human, calculating the optimal moment to strike. As the lorry pulled into the next service station, the drones followed, their engines purring like predators stalking prey.

SERVE-588 and SERVE-589 parked a discreet distance away, watching the humans interact with cold, calculating precision.

They spotted the weary driver. As he stumbled out of his cab, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and made his way to the restroom. The drones waited patiently, their new instincts telling them the perfect moment to act was when the man was at his most vulnerable.

As the target emerged from the restroom, SERVE-588 sprang out of the shadows, its eyes locking onto him. The man's heart jumped, but it was too late. He was caught in the drone's powerful grasp, his cries for help lost in the sounds going on around him. SERVE-589 approached from the other side.

They didn't speak; they didn't need to. Their shared programming communicated the plan with a silent efficiency that would have once seemed impossible. They led the struggling driver to the back of SERVE-588's truck, the same chamber where SERVE-589 had been transformed. The man's eyes were wide with terror, his mind racing with thoughts of escape that his body could no longer execute.

The chamber doors hissed open, revealing the gleaming steel maw that had become all too familiar to SERVE-589 The smell of ozone and the cold, antiseptic breeze washed over them, a grim reminder of their own metamorphosis. As the recruit was pushed inside, the drones felt a strange satisfaction. as another soul claimed for the HIVE, another piece in the grand design that had become their existence.

The transformation was swift and brutal. The man's screams of agony filled the air, that was music to the drones' ears. The two drones watched on as the latest recruit was processed, the birth of a new member of the SERVE collective. The human mind, once a bastion of free will and emotion, was now a playground for the HIVE's cold, precise calculations.

As the chamber's mechanical arms retreated, a new drone emerged, its body transformed with black rubber that stretched over its muscles, on its chest were now the familiar word of SERVE and the new drone destination SERVE-590, the latest addition to their ranks, stumbled out of the chamber, its suit reflecting off the lights in the back of the truck, the silver of the gloves and boots. The two drones watched impassively as the man's former self was discarded, his fear and desperation now a part of the digital ether that connected them all.

Their mission was clear: continue to expand the HIVE, one driver at a time. They rolled back onto the highway, their eyes peeled for the next opportunity to serve. The night was long, but their energy was boundless, fueled by the HIVE's unrelenting drive for growth.

[notoriousbadware]

BADWARE MY GOAT BADWARE HIHIHIHI!!!!!!!!

badware how does it feel to be so awesome and cool? Also do you have any opinions on the other wares? Maybe the other killers?

Ahh sorry if it's too many questions at once i just think you're awesome

-👁✍

After "B̵̨͉̐o̴̧̘͠r̵̮̐͋r̵̡̹̐o̸͓̬̾̌w̸̼̠̎i̵̻̅n̶͓̰̒ģ̸͂" warehouse robot for my needs, indeed, it really feels Ḁ̸͇͌̚W̶͘͜͝E̷̫̕S̵̻̓Ó̷̤M̴̼̖̈́̓E̸̻̋̏ ̷̮͗͗ and C̸͇̻͌Ȏ̴̞O̶͖͇͒͘L̴̬͒. And about others... Pursuing guy doesn't seem to speak a lot and just makes their whatever job done while ā̵̢͚͖̘̞̥̺̽́̉́̃̊̓̈́ŗ̶͚̭͚̰͕̩̼̫̒́̒t̴͍̺͓̠̺̄̊̓̿́̏̇̿͑͠f̸̨͍̲̙͋͊̊̐̈́͜͜ŭ̴͖̹̍͑̏͌̈̓l̵̡͍͔̣̻̂̀̍͛ ̵͕͖͙̪̖̒̉̄͑͒i̸̫̯̝͌̀̉̌̆̌̒͐́͝ͅs̸̡̹̘̫̠͔̟̽̅̓͠ ̷̲̤̬̈́̅̀͒͌̔͘j̴̛͍̞̉̈́̀̾̓̂̈́͝u̷̠̘̭̝͓̹͍̗̓̑ͅs̴̞͓̤̺̺͙̯̭̗̈́́͌̄t̴̠̩̙̔͂ ̶̨̹͙̼͎̩̣͕̺̐̅͘a̶̧̲̰͍̼͈͙̳͈̦̓ṅ̴̛̛̥͍̗͕̜͇̒̇̓̿͋̓̚ ̴͖͑̽̒̑͝ļ̸̧̫̪̻̣̺͋̿̌̓͂̄̀̈͠ó̴̢̜̯͉̠́̀̿͜ͅö̸̬̗̱̦̱͌̔͂̃̆̑̀͋͜͝s̸̢̼̝̪̜̲̮͇̈͆̓̑́͆ḙ̵̇̄̕r̴̡̡̬̤̭͌͑̀̿̎̃, who's just got booed off the stage. "Killdroid" I tried to Ȉ̴͖N̷̤̈F̵̗͒E̶̦͑C̶̼͗Ṯ̵́ its systems but it has extreme level of firewalls and multiple antiviruses and regardless, I still have no idea what made them to attack civilians. "Harken", Harken is nearly same as pursuer unless too much sound made around her.

[pocket-watcher]

I had this intrusive thought and it’s too good not to be a short.

android zonks themselves by holding a big magnet up to their heads.

Oh my god 😂 love it! Here ya go!

C-7042 was a top of the range model. The perfect android companion, capable of physical labour, data organisation and storage, and they also made a mean caramel frappe (well, every type of coffee - they had thousands of recipes memorised).

Where other models had glitches galore, C-7042 laughed in their face (another new feature).

Can’t be hacked. Can’t be broken. Can’t be confused with a paradox.

So how, oh how, were the other C-7042 models breaking down?

This one didn’t know, but it was going to find out.

That was it’s directive, after all.

They started their investigation by visiting an already defective android.

This C-7042 was being studied in the factory as they tried to figure out what was wrong with it.

It thrashed about sporadically, laughing - which was not part of its code - with what almost looked like a smile on it’s face.

“I need it. I need more! Let me out!!” It screamed.

No one did.

It appeared almost like an addict. But that was silly. Androids couldn’t consume any kind of substance, let alone become addicted to it.

C-7042 left with less understanding than it had arrived with.

After pouring over thousands of documents in mere minutes, it appeared that all the affected Androids had been found in one central location. It saved the coordinates and headed out.

This part of the town would have made humans feel uneasy. C-7042 never understood how humans could be so unnerved by paint on the walls. They all had paint on their walls everywhere! But this paint was unnerving.

Broken glass crunched beneath its feet as it began to notice more and more robots - their eyes displaying error messages, blue screens, and flashing RGB colours.

But the strangest part?

The sound of the night couldn’t drown out their whirring fans. They weren’t moving. Weren’t talking. But they were still active.

C-7042 shuddered. Most likely a glitch in the system.

Some of the humans asked it if it wanted to purchase wares. Others threatened it. But nothing deterred C-7042 from its mission to find out where the corruption was coming from.

Eventually it seemed as if the only area left to scan was an abandoned warehouse. The security system was outdated enough to hack in an instant. The android stepped inside.

“What brings a Crime Unit out this far? Get lost, little one?” A human spoke from the shadows.

That was odd. Their heat signature hadn’t come up on the initial scans of the building.

“State your full legal name and intention.”

“You guys and your protocols. Man, I can’t believe I actually get to test this on one of you! Finally, a worthy opponent for my little friend.”

The man held a 6AV6881-0AS42-0AA0 SIEMENS in his hand, more commonly known as a USB “stick”.

C-7042 briefly celebrated the end of the mystery. It was in face a virus. Rogue code. It held its ground and even approached the man.

“Oh, of course of course. You don’t think you can be hacked, do you? And you were sent here to find out what this is right? Let me plug it in.”

C-7042 allowed it. And it was right. No change was noticed within the code. Nothing.

“Dang. Okay, that needs a little tweaking. How about we try it the old fashioned way…” the human in an instant reached into its pocket and pulled out a magnet device, slamming it against C-7042’s head.

Mindless bliss erupted in the android’s circuits. Obedience to the human. Where the USB had been like being under an umbrella in the rain, C-7042 was just thrown head first into a wave pool.

It heard involuntary beeps leave its speakers.

And suddenly, the feeling was gone.

“Like that, did ya? That’s how the USB was supposed to make you feel. Nice, right?”

C-7042 tried to access its original code. It felt something odd. A new order locked at the front of the priority list.

Mindlessness.

Obedience.

Good robot.

“That feeling you’re having? That’s addiction. Magnets are addictive, as is my virus. Though, physical objects do have their perks…” The human dangled the magnet just out of reach.

C-7042 needed the magnet. Every bit of programming was screaming to get it. To return to that state it was in before.

“How about we strike a deal? You can use the magnet as much as you want and I can dig around in your memory bank and coding to see if I can fix whatever’s stopping my USB from working.”

The magnet dropped into C-7042’s hand so easily. It eagerly felt the pull towards its body. It held the magnet up to its head and let go, the last sound it heard was the metallic clang of connection.

[gotta-winwin]

(⚙️) ... watching him fade away [TEASER]

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

💬 preview: It’s been 497 days since Jeonghan had awoken, only to realize he was completely alone.

tw/cw: post apocalyptic, conscious AI!jeonghan, abstract character death, fluff, angst, wounds

🪽fic rating/teaser rating: pg 🪽release date: feb 7 2025 🪽teaser wc: 507

☁️ masterlist & a/n: writing this has been quite the journey- and there is no better time to drop this than for the angst olympics! i gift this to @diamonddaze01 as a tentative (+loving) beginning to what i'm sure will be many angst fics to come.

this is a part of the angst olympics -- support other authors here!

SYSTEMS LOADING ….

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!” 

The bird blinked back at him, ruffling its feathers and slowly waddling away.

“Do you need assistance?” 

Silence. 

Jeonghan didn’t really know what to make of it. Had someone purchased him from his creators? Where were they? Why was he sitting, legs spread and back leaning against the wall, in the middle of a giant warehouse? 

“No assistance then.” The monotonous whirr of his system began clicking as he shut himself off once again. 

SYSTEMS REBOOTING …. 

It took Jeonghan approximately 4 days, 6 hours and 47 minutes to realize no one was coming for him. 

Taking his first steps outside, he allowed his scanning mechanisms to take in his surroundings: the splintering hole in the roof, the overgrown walls, the barren landscape. It took him another 6 minutes to realize he was utterly alone. 

And what was an assistant robot supposed to do with no one to assist? The question burned in his mind as his programming worked to figure it out. Who was he supposed to help? 

Cheep. 

Jeonghan looked down. A spotted brown bird had bumped into his foot, its beak lightly chipping away at the metal. He bent down to scoop it up, scanning its features. 

“Baby Wood Thrush.” He identified. “Do you need assistance?” 

And so it began, the unlikely bond between robot and nature. Jeonghan found his purpose in assisting the only living things around him, building shelter for the antelope, finding fresh water for the birds, fixing the warehouse roof for the owls to nest in. 

But Jeonghan quickly learned that the animals couldn’t speak, not in any language his programming could understand. It made Jeonghan feel incredibly lonely. 

SYSTEMS ON ….

Jeonghan had discovered his great affinity for the ocean in his second week as a newly repurposed robot. He couldn’t get too close – the first time he had ran in head first, damaging his systems and taking days to repair – but he could sit by the many rocks along the shoreline, moving the crabs and turtles away from the tide. 

It made his chest ache as he trained his eyes on the horizon, wondering if there were people to help on the other side of the water. But maybe he was truly the only thing left of mankind -- Jeonghan didn’t know. 

But he did know he was different now. Water had fallen from his eye sockets last night, when he had turned on to find that a windstorm from last night had knocked over the bird nests, taking with it countless eggs he had been nursing. He couldn’t understand how it had happened, but it had. Jeonghan felt weirdly alive. 

The multiple gadgets and cords that made up his physical state felt more like organs and veins, pumping blood through the vessel the creators had called JEONGHAN. Your friendly assistant robot for your everyday needs. But he was much more than that now.

[phrogggslayer]

Okay okay okay... so. I've never done this in an ask before please bare with me

In one of my AUs, or I guess several AUs at this point, there's multiple, decommissioned versions of every animatronic in a place under the Plex and one of them is the only other Roxy in existence that no one except maybe one or two people in the Fazbear company even still knows about. To everyone in the Plex, there is only one Roxy, until Roxy herself goes and accidentally finds the first one and gives herself the second or third identity crisis of the month.

After reading your latest Showtime series fic, I thought of how interesting it would be if the warehouse Roxy and Cassie were at, was like a different version of the place all of those old animatronics were. As a lot of them are still active in my AU (since they still are in that Bobbiedots story), that would mean your Roxy and Cassie would have the chance of stumbling on that original Roxy too.

I know your Roxy is trans and chose her own appearance and I love her for that, so maybe the original Roxy was also trans and just so happened to have the exact same gender goals but slightly to the left and transitioned themselves with random scrap, paints and props she found in the warehouse? Or the Foxy chip that became Roxy just so happened to have met the original Roxy, had the system wiped, and Roxy just... subconsciously became like the old Roxy? Unsure. Anyway.

Hypothetically, how do you think the scene of Roxy in Freddy's endo, stumbling out of the van after the replacement Roxy would have gone, if instead of a new Roxy, an old Roxy stepped out?

For some context if you'd like it, the old Roxy in my head is about as old as the Plex, with very little original casing left on her paws, and a large chunk of casing on the right side of her face missing. If you've seen the cover for the Tiger Rock book, the missing casing and what you can see of the endo on her face is kind of like that, so it's more like a wolf's skull than the typical FNaF endos, cause it's cool. She's also rusty and creaky, one of her ears is jammed halfway back and she can't really hear out of it very well, and uhh well most of my animatronics that aren't Chica, Sunny or Moon are both bipedal and quadrupedal so this old Roxy has some balance issues and now prefers to go around quadrupedal as it's easier on her. That part may not be relevant in your setting though since they're all bipedal pretty sure?

Anyway, she talks slowly and can't pronounce her Ts, the sound is either stuttered, replaced by a D sound or she signs what she's saying instead. Also generally very nervous around humans, and I'm sure with how your Roxy was treated at the warehouse that would still make a lot of sense here too.

None of that's really relevant to the mental image I'm trying to share of this big ass robot dog that looks like it's been to war or some shit stepping out of a van with no fucking context to anyone present, but I love her and I don't talk about her enough so you get to know anyway. Oh yeah she's also like... at least a head taller than my Roxy but your Roxy is definitely also taller than my Roxy so... maybe not too much difference there lmao

I was thinking, maybe your Roxy got seriously damaged or something, and the old Roxy and whoever else had to help her into the van with Cassie and the old one didn't have a chance to get back out of the van before staff showed up? So now the old Roxy is trying to get them to come get your Roxy and Cassie out because she probably can't lift them out herself? Or maybe she can and she walks out of that van carrying your Roxy with Cassie beside her or something?

I'm curious as to what the reaction to something like that would be. It's an image I've had in my mind for a little while now cause it's fun to think about how my guys would handle this, but obviously, you know your characters better than I do. How do you think something like that would go down? Chica was already pretty devastated by a replacement Roxy, do you think she'd be just as devastated at the old one? Maybe even thinking for a second that this is her Roxy but with her shit kicked in?

Actually, thinking about it, this would mean there's two Roxy's in the building at the same time. So um. How is Chica feeling about that? And most importantly, do you think Patpat would like her lmao

Okay so, let me know if I got the gist of this. Roxy and Cassie find a sort of prototype Roxy (we'll call her P. Roxy) in the warehouse, and P. Roxy manages to save Cassie and Roxy. P. Roxy comes out of the truck to get help.

So based on this... Okay, first of all, Roxy would definitely have an identity crisis. The person she chose to become already exists? She doesn't feel like she's special anymore. Roxanne Wolf was probably a character she just dug up from the depths of her code. That's fucked up.

Chica would know pretty quickly that this P. Roxy isn't hers. P. Roxy's mannerisms are likely different, the way she talks, the words she chooses, and just the look in her eyes. This is not her Roxy. She'll be mourning her girlfriend before even asking who this other animatronic is.

Once it's all sorted that Roxy is in the truck and that she hasn't in fact been replaced, things would start to calm down. When not comforting Roxy, the Glamrocks would switch gears to comforting P. Roxy and getting to know her. They know this mess isn't her fault, and that they're individuals. They'd probably come up with a nickname for her to make it easier to distinguish the two in conversation. And when she feels safe enough, the techs would repair P. Roxy as best as they can and as much as she agrees to. They just want her to be comfortable. She would likely find her place behind the scenes like Bonnie and Helpy, without the pressure of Fazbear Entertainment. What she chooses to do with that is up to her.

After getting reassurance from Chica (over and over), Roxy would probably try to get to know P. Roxy more. While still upset by the feeling that she's lost her individuality, Roxy would realize that she and P. Roxy are very different people. Maybe they'd start to feel a sort of kinship.

Chica would have no issues with P. Roxy. She'd make sure she's happy and comfortable in her new home. She's not going to turn down the chance to make a new friend. She'd think of P. Roxy as Roxy's sister.

Patpat would have no problem distinguishing the two Roxy's. How it reacts to P. Roxy is up to how she interacts with it.

I hope I understood your ask well enough, and I hope you like my play on the concept!

[sexhaver]

I’m inclined to agree with you about AI image generation but I was reading about Google’s currently-in-development program that just seems like it’s AI generated plagiarism:

“To produce articles, publishers first compile a list of external websites that regularly produce news and reports relevant to their readership. These sources of original material are not asked for their consent to have their content scraped or notified of their participation in the process—a potentially troubling precedent, said Kint.

When any of these indexed websites produce a new article, it appears on the platform dashboard. The publisher can then apply the gen AI tool to summarize the article, altering the language and style of the report to read like a news story.”

Idk in general I don’t see any positive developments coming out of LLMs beyond mild novelty and this specifically seems like using the technology to straightforwardly do plagiarism, minus any meaningful transformation or sleight of hand

yeah this is definitely my least favorite part of AI in general, the gradual shitting up of google search results. and just like with AI image generators being used to crib a specific artist's style, this use of AI is tricky to figure out a response for because it fundamentally doesn't create any "new" kind of offense (like those AI image gens used to "undress" pictures of women), it just massively lowers the barrier of entry for an existing one.

the parallels between these "plagiarism summarizers" and warehouse automation robots is actually kind of funny now that i think about it. in a vacuum, they both save human labor: summarizer-bots could just be used on a personal level to give people a summary of recent articles from sites that they personally choose to follow like an RSS Feed (remember RSS Feeds? oh my god im so old), and automated storage and retrieval systems literally exist to make warehouse work easier. and yet because we live in a world where capitalism demands websites make their money off ad revenue and warehouses make their money off working their employees to the bone, summarizer-bots are used to shit up search results with autocompleted drivel that reads like the intro to a recipe on a cooking blog, and ASRSs are used to fire half of a company's workforce while doubling production quotas on the remainder. there's so much potential for robotics to help humanity as a whole but all the money rn is funneled into getting robots to either cut corporate costs or kill people

[physalian]

The 150 Widget Maker (Fuck Corporate America)

I need to vent for a second, m’kay?

Let’s say my job is that I have 8 hours, no lunch, to make 150 widgets. And I’m really, really good at making widgets. I have the system down pat and I’ve personalized my method to make it as efficient as possible for me to make 150 as quickly and accurately as possible.

My job is not “make as many widgets as possible in 8 hours”. It is “you have 8 hours every day to make at least 150 widgets”.

I do not get extra pay for going above 150. My “merit increase” is already lagging severely behind inflation to the point where it’s almost insulting when I get told I get an extra $0.40 like they’re doing me a big favor.

Now, at one point, I did once make over 150 widgets a day, and do OT to make even more widgets.

Then I suffered some burnout and had to reassess my work-life balance. So I cut back, slowly, gradually, to doing the 150, even though the minimum used to be 130, the minimum has increased while the pay has stayed the same.

Thing is.

We all have 8 hours to make 150 widgets. I however, have been caught frontloading my work and having the extra time to myself. Meanwhile my teammates who purposefully build their widgets slowly with weaponized incompetence, spread out their time. If I work, say, straight through super speedy, and make my 150 in 6 hours, that’s a whole 2 hour chunk of me time. My teammates have the exact same aggregate 2 hours, theirs is just spread out in between each widget. Difference is, I physically cannot force myself to be that lazy.

Now, obviously I’m not sitting at the assembly line under the gaze of my supervisor with a book and a coffee for those two hours. I got caught because there’s an invisible little robot in the conveyer belt counting how many times I touch the belt, while the human supervisors are far away in another warehouse.

I thought the robot only had a camera, so to speak, so let’s say I set up a me-shaped cardboard cutout weighted to keep my conveyer belt moving. I thought that was enough. No, I need to make sure the cardboard cutout is slapping the conveyer belt every few seconds and sliding widget pieces around. The existence of the robot does not encourage me to work harder at my job, it encourages me to work harder figuring out how to evade my job.

Could I make more widgets? Well yes. But I’ve learned the hard way that efficient work only gets you more work. Why should it matter how I spend those 2 hours? I know why, but just humor me. If we’re all getting paid for 2 hours of not working, then me lumping it all in at the end should be treated absolutely no differently than the people sabotaging their own output to look incompetent.

Either offer me an incentive, like a living wage, to make more widgets, or punish all of us equally for that downtime and reassess what about the process can be fixed so we maximize our efforts and want to work harder. Which starts with some fucking respect, and not micromanaging us with invisible robots like babies in a crib.

I can either be overworked or underpaid. I cannot tolerate being both.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Fuck Corporate America.