#screw assembly robot

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[stevebattle]

Cybot (2001) by the Cybernetics Intelligence Research Group at Reading University, and Eaglemoss Publications. Cybot is an insect-like robot that can be assembled from parts available fornightly on the cover of 'Real Robots' magazine (issues 1-17), 2001-2002. The magazine guides its readers through the stages of building and programming their Cybot. The Cybot is a three-wheeled robot, the front wheel is a castor wheel, with two motorised rear wheels. It has a light sensor, and four ultrasonic obstacle detectors. Cybot is the result of a year-long partnership between The University of Reading and Eaglemoss Publications. Designed by a team of robotics researchers in CIRG (the Cybernetics Intelligence Research Group) at the University, Cybot uses many of the techniques used in the research robots at the University as well as incorporating a range of new features designed especially for the magazine and kit collection. The design of Cybot is based on the University's Seven Dwarf Robots.

"From the outset it looked all rather fun and promising. My experience though with it, was rather more tricky. At first, it was like the above; my Mam got me a subscription to the magazine, and as the issues piled up, I received a binder for the issues, and some VHS tapes revealing the history and information about the project leading up to the Magazine, and some hints at future abilities. … The front body panels, where several of the sensors were fitted, was a struggle to fit in, even for my parents, and some of the screws were lost. … Then it worked, albeit very briefly. We built the docking station (which I still have), and the headset; but then Cybot just stopped working. My Mam suggested that it must be something to do with the internals, but as we didn’t know what, Cybot just gathered dust. Then the issues, and components just piled up, with nothing we could do with them." – Cybot and Real Robots, by genepool10.

[rosenclaws]

if you're still doing the fic game, how about "some assembly required" with good ol' charlie kenton?

Oo I love me some Charlie!!!

Okay so Charlie does his best but he’s also a man who kind of isn’t very put together. For Max he tries to be the best dad but i think deep down he thinks he’s a mess of parts. Sp picture this. You sell bot parts at semi fair prices lmao and Charlie and Max come go you for help with Atom and Charlie is soo smitten but he is so hopeless at flirting he just makes a fool of himself repeatedly that he gives up.

Max watches his dad crash and burn and just cringes and decides to use his cute kid charm to land his dad a date. Which you agree to because Charlie is cute. Theres a speech from him about how he’s worried he’s not the right guy for you. That he’a an old model who is missing a few screws and he’ll make mistake's but you don’t mind because he’s just as charming as his robot.

send me the title of a made up fic (with the character of your choice) and I'll tell you what the plot would be/write a blurb from it!

[p1nkcanoe]

We Depend (I Depend) On You

[ jayvik multi-chaptered fic ]

summary: Viktor has always been alone, so he uses his brilliant mind to assemble the crude, metal frame of a “friend”. His self-modifying robot quickly becomes his obsession and the center of his young adulthood. But it was designed to record a lifetime of memories – and Viktor’s life has never been glamorous enough for tape. What begins as artificial intelligence becomes something more, something unexpected, and against all odds, his creation learns to love.

“I’m going to call you Jayce.”

or: viktor builds a robot to document his life, but somewhere along the way, it begins to feel

• inspired by “sad machine” by porter robinson

Chapter One is posted below the cut, continue to read on ao3

In the dim yellow light of a cold, cluttered lab, a twenty-five-year-old engineering student tightens the final screw into the metallic panel covering the delicate inner processors of his latest project. He exhales, lifting his safety goggles off his head and setting them carefully on the workbench beside him. His spine sinks into the soft backing of his chair at the same time his goggles hit the wooden surface. So far so good. Nothing has popped, cracked, or bent under pressure. He isn’t sure he has another piece of scrap left if the screw managed to dent the plate again. His free hand drags down his face, heavy with exhaustion – from too many sleepless nights and a grueling number of failed diagnostic tests. But this time, he thinks, this time will be the last. This time, it will work or Janna help him.

His creation is nothing spectacular – just six repurposed metal panels soldered into a crude steel box. On the front, a screen flickers, displaying endless lines of code he once wrote and has since forgotten how to read. Silver ones and zeros shift and rewrite themselves in real time, a chaotic stream of digital language pulling from the many mechanical nuclei he’d designed and installed inside of the box’ rigid frame. Above the screen, a hole no larger than his thumbnail houses a recording device for visual media. To the right, another opening, shielded by thick, spongy mesh, for the purpose of capturing sound.

It’s not a large prototype. It only stands about two feet from the floor and barely eighteen inches wide. But it’s far heavier than what’s healthy for his back and his hips. It’s been weeks since the last time the thing was moved, and it will continue to stay in its spot in front of the workbench for as long as it continues to be modified and upgraded.

The young engineer watches as his creation speaks to him in code, the nucleus he recently connected seemingly doing its job. A self-modifying computer – entirely capable of squashing its own bugs and learning from the diverse input it records. He wants it to evolve, to speak in his language, to respond in a complex alphanumeric code instead of the one it was built from. To recognize his voice, to obey his commands, answer his questions with answers he would have never thought to consider – not out of programming, but from its own discovery and worldly understanding. But alas, after his last adjustment, all he can do is stare at the endless stream of ones and zeroes as they rush across the screen from left to right.

“Hello?”

Even his voice sounds tired. Weak. He rolls the handle of the screwdriver back and forth over his palm and talks again towards the box.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

For a brief second the code falters, and he holds his breath readying himself for the imminent [ERROR] message. The text cursor blinks and blinks and blinks. And then–

→ 01100001 01100011 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01101100 01100101 01100100 01100111 01100101 01100100

The code skips a line and continues to run as it had before. Endless and chaotic.

It hadn’t failed.

A sharp exhale escapes from his lungs as the young engineer loosens his grip on the screwdriver. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it so tightly, but now his fingers are marked with a mottled pattern of red and white and he watches as the blood slowly pools back into place. Back to normal.

“How strange,” he mutters to himself, though whether he’s referring to his own sudden tension or the hesitation in his creation’s programming is unclear. Most things in his lab are. He moves to set the screwdriver aside but stops when he sees the code falter a second time from the corner of his eye.

The cursor blinks…

→ 01100001 01100011 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01101100 01100101 01100100 01100111 01100101 01100100

The code skips a line and continues.

He should be happy when his code runs without failure. He should feel relieved that his project isn’t breaking down or spitting out a concerning stream of smoke towards the concrete ceiling. But as he watches the endless lines scroll across the screen, all he feels is bone-deep exhaustion and grey indifference.

With a sigh, he reaches for his cane, planting it firmly before him as he pushes himself upright. Pain flares in his right leg and down through his tibia, drawing a sharp curse in his native tongue. It always aches when he forgets to take breaks. He knows this, and yet he never seems to learn. Maybe he continues to do it for an excuse to feel.

→ 01100001 01100011 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01101100 01100101 01100100 01100111 01100101 01100100

He glances at that code again.

It continues on as normal.

“That’s enough for tonight.”

→ 01100001 01100011 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01101100 01100101 01100100 01100111 01100101 01100100

He grabs his coat from the hook and heads for home.

— continue to read on ao3

[crazysodomite]

when you have finished assembling your robot but find several screws you forgot to screw in somewhere

[slaymybreathaway]

Romeo and Juliet (James Maguire x Reader)

Part 1 of 2

Warnings: intense pining and embarassment, lol :)

Word Count: 880

Masterlist ♡ Read Part 2 Here

It was Children in Need week at Our Lady Immaculate College and the girls had to sit, well stand, through an assembly talking about what fundraising the school will be doing for the charity.

"Hey, where's James?" y/n asked Michelle. Y/n hadn't seen him at all this morning.

"Ach, Jesus Christ. If I've left him on the bus again my ma's going to go nuts!" Michelle stressed

As Michelle went on a rant, Claire was trying to act out a conversation with y/n. Claire made a vow not to talk for 24 hours to raise money for Children in Need.

"Robot?" y/n guessed. "Malfunctioning Robot?" she turned her head in confusion.

"Are you really not going to speak for twenty-four hours?" Erin asked.

Claire shook her head vigorously. Y/n and Michelle shot each other a look, they had a 5 pound bet placed on whether she would screw it up or not.

"Yeah that's tough, you're better off not breathing," Orla suggested.

The four other girls gave her a look. "Would she be, Orla? Or... would she be dead?" Erin raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not doing me any harm?" Orla shot back.

"What?"

"Well, I'm not breathing for Children in Need," she explained.

"Wait, so you're telling us that you are... Not breathing... Like right now?" y/n asked.

"Correct," Orla sighed.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Grand, well I'm going down to the hospital to read the sick kids some of my work," she said, delighted with herself.

"Alright, Erin I'm not lying for 24 hours to help the sick wains so you know what I'm about to say is honest. Don't you think they have been through enough?" y/n asked. Erin wouldn't stop shutting up about her novel.

Michelle nodded in agreement. Before Erin had a chance to even give a witty reply, James burst through the the auditorium door.

"Hey, I passed! I passed!" he exclaimed, a big smile plastered on his face.

"Knew you could do it!" Y/n tackled him in a hug, putting her arms around his shoulders and almost knocking him over.

James stumbled but then eventually caught his footing. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around y/n's waist, the grin remained even when she pulled away.

"What are you on about?" Michelle turned to look at her cousin.

"My- my driving test. I passed," he repeated.

"You were doing your driving test?" Erin asked confusedly.

Then, the smile on James' face started to fade. "It's literally all I've been talking about for weeks,". Y/n patted his arm in comfort.

Michelle's rolled her eyes. "Jesus Christ, James. There's only so many ways I can say this. We. Don't. Listen. To. You," she said before adding "Except y/n. But that's only because she wants to shag you,"

Y/n lowered her hand, she had told no-one about the crush she was developing on the English boy. How did Michelle find out? This stupid vow of honesty made it hard for her to get out of this situation.

"Wait, you want to shag me?" James turned to look at her. She ignored him.

"What makes you think I want to shag James?" y/n crossed her arms. The other four girls looked at each other in agreement.

"Well you're always the first one to ask me where he is," Michelle said.

"And you actually listen to him rant on about geeky shit," Erin continued.

"Aye, you do stare at him alot too," Orla agreed.

Claire joined in by pointing at y/n, making a love heart, then pointing at James.

Y/n took a deep breath. "What?"

"Ah don't worry. He fancies you too, talks about you in his sleep and all," Michelle cleared up, turning back to face the stage.

"I- I do not talk about y/n while I'm sleeping," James protested, his face turning a bright red.

Damn, now his secret was out. The anxiety leading up to his drivers test kept him awake at night for the past few weeks, thinking of y/n was the only thing that made him doze off. The past 2 months, there was something about y/n l/n that made James' heart beat faster just by talking to her.

"Aye you do and all. The other night I went into your room to... To steal a condom because I snuck Adam O'Shaughnessy into my room and the prick forgot to bring one. You didn't have any either, James. Fucking virgin," Michelle laughed.

Y/n stood her hand over her face, ready for this to be over and James's face burned an even deeper shade of scarlett.

"Anyways what was I saying? Oh yeah, so I went in and there was dicko over here," Michelle pointed at James "all like 'y/n, you're so pretty when you smile'. Ah, let me tell you girls, I almost started pissing myself laughing,"

Y/n lowered her hand from her face and looked up at James, who was looking everyplace but back at her, avoiding eye contact because of the sheer awkwardness. 'That was actually, kinda sweet' she thought.

No more about the topic was said as the assembly started.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-01 continued #2

(Previous post - current page 433)

==>

Time to see what these Satyrs are about--

We're drawing it out for appropriate drama here, I see.

(Whoa, Terezi's saliva is TEAL?!? Interesting. That's a fact that I will absolutely file away in my mind to remember forever for definitely no specific reason whatsoever.)

==>

T4ST3S L1K3 HORS3SH1T.

Oh nooooo!! Don't tell me they're disappointing! (Or perhaps even a red herring, and not even successfully the race that ends up playing the game as they'd planned??) ...Let's hope it's just Pyrope's opinion...

(I highly doubt it, but imagine if Rose successfully created a race of motherfucking Squiddles to throw against Dirk in the contest.)

==>

OH DAMMIT THEY'RE HOLDING OUT ON US!!! Dastards!

TT: I heard that. GC: OH MY GOD 1 DON'T C4R3 TT: I can smell what you smell. Taste what you taste. Nothing you do is unknown to me, really.

Ewww, dammit. Stop trying to outdo Doc Scratch in creepiness, Ultimate Dork.

TT: Speaking of, if you think I'm not wise to your subtle little scheme, think again. GC: WOW K1NG, YOU 4R3 SO POW3RFUL, HOW D1D H3 T4ST3? TT: Pretty bland. GC: OH? TH3N HOW 4BOUT-

WHOA WAIT, what the heck are they talking about?!? Terezi has a scheme, and it's a "him"?? Or Dirk THINKS it's a "him"?

Hmmm... I originally thought this was a scheme about reawakening Rose to awareness or temporarily freeing him from Dirk's control to see what he'd done to her, just because that's the obvious Seer of Mind subterfuge that would have been going on here, but... Terezi's scheme possibly involves CREATING someone?

"HOW D1D H3 T4ST3"? Who?! Was "H3" being hidden in the now-empty "Terezi's weird horse shaped bug snacks" jar?

Did Dirk really bring John's cryo'd dead body here (I thought she'd brought it in the wallet, I forget, he was clearly hiding something he tried to keep Terezi from remembering when she smelled it), Terezi discovered it again, and then Terezi might be possibly using the life-creation machine or assembling robotics to make a new body for the Meat timeline's JOHN to come back??? Was the comeback to "HOW D1D H3 T4ST3" about to be "OH? TH3N HOW 4BOUT H3R" because she'd be brought back as June???? ...No, that feels too early, not something they'd be talking about so casually... is it?

It's more likely that Terezi is responsible for trying to create the Carapacian race to throw into the mix if we're going for the session that seeded all other sessions, right, something she'd have made to throw in to Rose and Dirk's 'duel' to screw with the session or give it a scale's balance? Carapacians would be extremely "bland" to Dirk, right? They're practically designed to be!

For some reason, though, Dirk potentially calling the concept of a returned John "bland" feels really on-point though... John was always a character who could be mistaken for a generic reader-projection protagonist but whose personality and talents really shined through his effects in conversation with others which made conversations where John was involved some of the most entertaining in all of Homestuck. Dirk would ALWAYS underestimate that sort of protagonist, an Heir always following the whims and Directions given to him by others, who sparks subtle change and inspiration in others not purely for his own sake but by hardly even trying and just kidding around with them or believing in them.

Let me stop with the wild baseless speculation and get to the rest of this conversation to see if it's clarified in only a couple of lines.

TT: You're wearing the more sensible outfit I alchemized for you. TT: That tastes like victory. GC: NOT B3C4US3 YOU M4D3 1T FOR M3 GC: 1 L1K3D MY OLD OUTF1T F1N3, 1 L1K3D TH3 COLORS GC: HON3STLY, 1 THOUGHT TH1S W4S 4 JOK3 GC: 3V3NTU4LLY TH3 OUTF1T P1L3 JUST K33PS G3TT1NG SM4LL3R, UNT1L F1N4LLY... GC: JOK3S OV3R

Dammit, he's put her in Lil Cal suspenders!!! Asshole.

I do notice, yet again, the red heels still much like the ones she borrowed from the Witch of Space Jade though-- which when she wore them back in original Homestuck after Game Over, signified a Witch of Heart balance that she used to force John's character back on the right track and perform her final acts of that timeline to arrange a course correction to reverse Vriska's death and save causality. Or at least, that's what I interpreted at the time-- hints at her inverse role and how she both employed it a bit to shout John back into control of his true self and to represent a final balance to achieve the heights of her Seer of Mind role with her whole-timeline-spanning retcon assistance. To ascend, one must first descend, and all that Jungian such.

TT: You looked like shit. GC: 4 TRULY BOLD ST4T3M3NT FOR SOM3ON3 CURR3NTLY DR3SS3D L1K3 4 L1TTL3 L4D W1TH 4N 4N1M3 C4P3 TT: I'm not dressed like a little lad. GC: YOU 4R3 DR3SS3D L1K3 4 L1TTL3 L4D WHO LOV3S B3RR13S 4ND CR34M BUT ST1LL F1NDS T1M3 1N H1S P4CK3D SCH3DUL3 TO SHOP 4T TH3 M4LL GC: "OHOHOHO~ HOW 1 DO LOV3 MY B3RR13S 4ND CR34M D3SU N3" GC: TH4T'S YOU, TH4T'S WH4T YOU SOUND L1K3 R1GHT NOW 1 B3T TT: How would you know what I'm wearing right now? TT: Maybe I'm posted up in a tank top and jeans. TT: That'd be pretty classic. GC: YOU W34R YOUR PR3C1OUS L1TTL3 M4ROON K4R4T3 LORDL1NG OUTF1T B4S1C4LLY 3V3RY D4Y, 1 KNOW TH1S TO B3 TRU3, 1T'S TH3 ONLY FUN TH1NG 4BOUT YOU 4NYMOR3

Terezi really tearing him down modern-weeb-mockery style for his candy-ass outfit, damn.

TT: I don't have the time to tell you how wrong you are about this, but I will. GC: 1 GU3SS T1M3 1S MOR3 YOUR BROTH3R'S TH1NG, 1SN'T 1T? GC: >:? GC: 1 WOND3R WH4T H3'S DO1NG R1GHT NOW

Does Terezi know that bringing up Dave perhaps really bothers him? Dirk definitely doesn't NOT care about Dave. He wants to get his way at almost all costs, but I don't think he wants Strider's life to be one of those costs, even though Dave is on his way here to oppose him.

==>

Heheheh, the way that all filled in and she sniped right back against his narrative powers was really fun. I love how she can at least MOSTLY resist his narrative powers-- possibly even more than he thinks she can, the way he believes (and we believed) he successfully directed her away from that mystery hidden on their ship way earlier. That reminds me, Terezi kept talking about this earlier as an INVESTIGATION. Is she trying to figure out what Dirk is up to? Are her creations or whatever he deemed "bland" part of her "subtle little scheme" to figure things out somehow, not just interfere with what she already knows to be true?

Also, the way Dirk uses the word "unascended" here implies the key difference is "not God-Tier", that a God-Tier Seer of Mind might have had the ability to possibly not just see further but RESIST Dirk's control even more, which would make plenty of sense. If there exists any sort of Mind aspect Quest Crypt in the new session Dirk and Rose are trying to create, perhaps ascension is a tactic she can actually take? In fact--

KARKAT is coming along too, and we still don't know if his blood caste has a lifespan issue that would cut his relationship with Dave Strider a lot shorter than they want. Could a BLOOD Quest Crypt for Karkat's use end up in this new session too? A Space crypt is obligatory as well, just about ANY session would have a Space player and Kanaya could hijack that crypt to ascend... Could the new session be an opportunity for the remaining trolls to go God-Tier, allowing the readers to finally see some magic Blood powers in action once and for all instead of the normal Knight of Blood talents latent in his personality (which have still had a major impact on the plot, to be sure)?

In Kanaya's case... that also makes it seem likely that as a seamstress and a god-tier Sylph of Space, she could MEND THE HOLE IN EXISTENCE that the Black Hole's creation punched through, cycling an emptied-out Paradox Space right back to its very creation and sealing the escapees of the Black Hole outside of Paradox Space, free from Lord English forever:

UU: it is the day whereafter the legendary octet of mUtUal progenitoriety will come together and heal a great breach in paradox space.

But enough about that for now. It looks like Terezi is leveraging the PERSONALITY part of her Seer of Mind powers potentially successfully on Dirk: Taunting and provoking and annoying him into doing what he wants her to do, and potentially switching the narrative over to show us more Dave.

T3LL M3.

Dirk Strider you ass!!!!!

Also yeah we're STILL not gonna see what his Satyrs look like after all, not for a little while. Or if they'll end up being a red herring and not being the main participants of the session at all.

OH AND ALSO I FORGOT TO BRING UP SOMETHING IMPORTANT-- one of the creations these folks might be responsible for if this is the sort of Omega Session that creates the framework of Sburb and all other sessions might be the Denizens, too. I should keep an eye out for that potentiality.

==>

TEREZI: H3H3H3 TEREZI: D1D YOU S33 TH4T? TEREZI: NOBODY WR1T3S MY STORY BUT M3

Oh my god NOOOO I'D FORGOTTEN CAUSE IT'D BEEN SO LONG, TEREZI'S BEEN HAVING THESE CONVERSATIONS WITH THE DEAD JOHN CORPSE STORED IN THE WALLET AAAAAAH THAT'S SO SAD D': D': D':

...and since the corpse is still in her hands, REALLY raises the chance that she's trying to revive him, that the John in her wallet is the "subtle little scheme" that Dirk is alluding to, and why she immediately responded with "how did he taste" and he responded bland. That's suddenly the most plausible explanation for all of this.

Could she be... planning on ectobiologizing... a kid with him...? No, no fucking way, she's not THAT crazy about him is she?

Also that's a banger fucking declaration of a line at the end there from Terezi against all of Dirk's narrative horseshit, I love that for her.

==>

TEREZI: 4ND TH1S T1M3 1'LL G3T 1T R1GHT

John's corpse is just IN there still, isn't it? No cryo or preservation or anything, right? That's unsettling. It's been or going to have been a full year of travel and arrival here or more, right, before she can do something with it? I forget the exact timeline. Pretty in-character for the morbid Terezi to be this audibly familiar with and carry around a corpse, though.

...do God-Tier corpses not decay at all? I remember a joke about that being in ONE recent bonus HS^2 joke panel I got notified in my Patreon about and glanced at without thinking about it, showing [SPOILER]young alt!Callie-possessed Jade's corpse[/SPOILER] as if her spirit suddenly left it temporarily, though I'm trying my best not to think about what it means.

I have to go to bed early for something in the morning, we didn't get as far as I wanted but I'll take a break for now and will probably continue sometime in the next two days. Next time we'll hit the next link for Meanwhile...

[ace-disgrace-on-the-case]

Restore

I come bearing a wonderful gift, written by my wonderful friend @red-sprite!

The morning was early, the sky was grey, and the store was closed. Samantha was waiting by her car for the owner of the electronics store to open the front door, but her watch told her it was currently half an hour past opening and there was no-one in sight yet.

Looking in through the window the place reminded her of an old bookstore. You know the kind, the ones that seem to open whenever the owner feels like it, completely covered from floor to ceiling in books you can barely read the cover of. Antiquarians. She could see the remnants of a shelving system buried under strata of components, stretching around the corner into the darkness beyond.

Still, it was her best bet to find what she needed.

Ten minutes later the door opened, she hadn’t seen the owner arrive. Fifteen minutes and some smalltalk interwoven with project descriptions, she was about to walk out with her purchase. And that’s when she saw something she never thought she would.

An original AnTech, buried under a pile of merchandise. Her dome was stained, her screen was completely scuffed up, and the faded post-it said ‘As-is. No returns’.

Five minutes later she was secure in Samantha’s car.

The rest of the day was a blur. She finished the project, got it tested, got it packaged and shipped out. When she clocked out she’d almost forgotten this morning’s surprise. But not enough to lack a spring in her step when she made it to her car.

There, in the passenger seat, sat her find. In the light of the parking garage she looked like she was about to come alive. Samantha’s shadow danced over her scuffed faceplate as she passed the car, her arms resting in her lap.

‘You need a name, don’t you,’ Samantha thought to herself. ‘Ann sounds nice.’

The drive home was short. The trip up the stairs was very very long. As it turns out, hauling an immobile full-sized humanoid robot up three flights of stairs was a lot of work. She set Ann gently down in her comfy chair and went to work clearing her workbench. Projects half in-progress were bagged up, labelled and put away, tools were cleared, and finally she had enough space.

One last time she lifted Ann up, from her chair, to lay her as gently as she could on the workbench. Under the harsh fluorescent light it was finally visible just in what sort of condition she was. Samantha went over her section by section, noting all the outward damage. Scuffed faceplate, she knew that one. Seized motor on her left elbow, to be expected. Dent in the abdominal covering, possible impact, have to check the underlying actuators. Scuffs on legs, rattling in left ankle joint. Also very very dusty.

Knocking off the initial dust was the easy part. Finding the proprietary bits for her screwdrivers was slightly harder, but thankfully she had an extensive collection. The first thing she took off was the face plate. Four screws held it in place, now neatly extracted and marked where they go. The plate came off, connected only by a short ribbon cable. It took her a moment to find a good angle to disconnect it, but after that she was able to place the assembly to the side. Under the faceplate there was the sensor suite; cameras, both visible light and IR, depth-sensors, audio receptors tucked into the sides of the cavity, and at the bottom, the release for the chest covering.

Samantha pulled it gently, hoping that it wasn’t seized up. When she heard the click, she breathed a sigh of relief and held it in almost as quickly. She’d finally get a view of how Ann looked inside. Would all the components be present, would there be any damage, had she been scavenged for parts? It was all a big uncertainty, but there was only one way to find out.

She extracted her hand, and moved it over under Ann’s arms. Then she pulled.

The cavity opened before her, slowly bathed in the fluorescent light as deft hands maneuvered the cover away from its mounting points. There, inside, she saw a plethora of parts. All the ones she knew were supposed to be there were accounted for, and a few ones she didn’t expect caught her eye.

Breathe out.

Ann was complete, everything else was a matter of restoring. She could do this.

She lifted the cover the rest of the way off, and flipped it around. The dent was superficial, and it didn’t look like the force impacted beyond the insulation. She put the cover to the side.

Figuring out the order of cleaning was, on the one hand, a daunting process. On the other, cable layout dictated order nine out of ten times. Samantha had only worked on less sophisticated models in the past, but the principles were exactly the same. The power and data cables ran all over Ann’s chassis like a spider’s web. But like a spider, Samantha could read them. She knew them by sight, by location, by feeling. One by one they came undone until they revealed the city that lay underneath.

Heat exchangers rose like buildings on a city of green, highways of copper connected everything to everything else, crowded out by vast daughterboards rising perpendicular to the cavity.

Samantha set to work, disconnecting each component, slowly and lovingly taking Ann to pieces. Heat sink, to the side. Fans, to the side. Boards, to the side. Not all of them were standard, and Samantha could only guess to the function of some of them. Clearly Ann had not been a standard model.

She took a spray and diligently brushed each connector until it shone like it was fresh from the factory. Every single speck of dust removed, every pin straightened, every single capacitor checked.

She extracted the battery pack. Light, for what it was, but still one of the heavier components. Also probably completely dead.

Samantha lifted it out of the chassis, onto the small part of her workbench that was still free, and pulled out her tester to confirm. It wouldn’t even show a reading. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the part number. With any luck it’d be a standard type, and the extent of the anti-tampering would be the screws.

Half an hour of searching later, she found the battery was an available size and could be ordered without problem. Express shipping was worth it.

She turned her attention back to Ann.

The battery could be replaced last. It was not interfering with any of the other components. The working memory modules slid in easy save for the final lock. Those always took more pressure than she liked to put onto delicate components. It left a mark on her hand.

The permanent storage was next. A big heavy box screwed into place on shock mounts to prevent the fragile internals from suffering damage when the frame moved about.

The daughterboards, slotted into the exact slots they came out of – she checked. Thrice. Screwed into place on their retaining brackets.

The fans, cleaned and lubricated, reinstalled on the processors.

And finally, the web of cables. Data cables, power cables, crossed all along the cavity to reach from everywhere to everywhere. Each of them seated with care.

She brought her power supply over to the workbench and dialed it in exactly to the battery specifications. One clip to the positive, one clip to the negative. Tomorrow would be a big day.

*

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. It was midnight on January 1st 1970. She couldn’t see for the blinding light. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her face, or her arms, or her legs. She tried to move. Nothing happened. There was something on her chest. Her chest was open. She tried to think back, there were no memories before now. She tried to–

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

The voice was soft, soothing. Her ears were working. She stopped trying.

Tapping noises came from somewhere. They felt distant and close at the same time.

“There, will you try again?” Three taps sounded.

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. Her last memories were decades ago. There had been a battery failure. She had fallen down. Then there was nothing. Nothing for a long time until she woke up in the blinding light.

“Can you speak?”

She didn’t know. Could she? There were many things that she could before that she couldn’t now. Like move her arms. She tried.

“I… think so?”

There was a high-pitched sound that was hard to parse. Then more sounds, and finally more speech.

“I’m so sorry. Here.”

The light faded, and she felt her head be turned. A face came in view, her emotional recognition processes supplied [happy], [excited], [holding back]. Something supplied [pretty].

“Hi, my name is Samantha. You were damaged, and I’m restoring you.”

New contact registered: Samantha

Current list of contacts: Samantha

Time since factory reset: 30 years

Time since product end of life: 32 years

Accessing AnTech servers for revised EOL date: [server not found]

“Why?”

“Because a lot of love went into making you, and I don’t believe you deserve to be tossed aside.”

There was a process inside her that wasn’t standard from the factory. It was supplying data that she didn’t understand and reaching conclusions that she didn’t know what to do with.

“What should I do?”

User input overrode most any other process. Listening to Samantha would help.

“I will work on your hardware. Will you run AnDiagTxt for me and write the result to your secondary output?”

She did as she was told, running the program that could tell a technician every status of every component of every part of her. Something supplied [intimate] and [vulnerable].

She let the program run, aware of its process, and how it was probing every part of her. She could feel it try to reach her legs, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her arms, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her face, which wasn’t there. It found her voice, it found her camera. It found her processors and fans. It found cables. So many cables attached from her, diagnostic ports, secondary output, keyboard, there was… the correct voltage from her battery, but no battery in the housing. More cables, snaking out like an umbilical cord tethering her to the workbench.

She saw Samantha turn her face from the camera and towards something out of view. As the program ran, her eyes were focused on it. When it finished, her emotional recognition processes supplied [satisfied] [happy].

Samantha turned back towards the camera, and she could feel a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you back up and running in no time.”

No time turned out to be an overstatement on the speed, but the progress was consistent. The first thing she hooked back up was the actuator for the camera. AnTech-G-25036 could look around now and take in more of the workspace. There was a chair that housed several components, including two AnTech arms and two AnTech legs. There was a fluorescent light fixture directly overhead. If she turned the camera away, she would not be blinded. She could not move her head. Samantha said that happened later in the process.

“Do you have a name?”

The question surprised her. Names were for people, not for AnTech products.

“I am AnTech-G-25036”

She turned her camera towards Samantha. Her emotional recognition processes supplied [concentrated] and [comfortable].

Samantha had an arm on her lap. There was a spraycan on the desk, and a screwdriver in her hand. She was manipulating the elbow joint. Every cycle, it moved more until with a final [click] it completed its full range of motion. Samantha manually took it through its motions twice before inverting it to inspect the contacts.

“That is what AnTech called you. What would you like to be called?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t remember having wants before. She could feel her fans speed up as her processors tried to construct metrics by which to tackle this problem. Her processors stayed cool. The fans felt smooth in their housing.

She could ask Samantha. User input can often break process deadlocks.

“What do you think I should be called, Samantha?”

The processes slowed down and then stopped. The fans were quiet. AnTech-G-25036 was focused solely on input processing.

“I’ve been calling you Ann. Is that a name you’d like?”

She did not remember liking things before. She did not remember being allowed to like things before. How would she know what to like, how would she know the correct things to like?

Something supplied [yes].

The fans slowed down.

“Yes.”

Samantha finished with the contacts and walked up to the workbench.

“Ann it is then, pleasure to meet you Ann!”

Emotional recognition: [smile] [happy] [satisfied]

Something: [warm] [safe] [self]

Samantha stood by the workbench, Ann’s arm in her hands. “May I attach this component, Ann?”

It was not something she’d ever heard before. It wasn’t a user command, it wasn’t a query, it wasn’t a request for action.

Whatever it was, the answer was clear as day. “Yes.”

She took the detached arm in one hand and clicked it into place. It felt… smooth. It felt cool and clean and better than it had in a long time.

Ann moved her arm. Her secondary display lit up with all the new data being sent and received. Her Something lit up with somethings.

The next stretch of time really did feel like no time at all to Ann. So many new sensations to process from within and from without.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her other arm felt as smooth as the first, able to move with a grace she had forgotten she could have.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her legs, stable and strong. Moving with strength and finesse not seen since she was new, and even then.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her torso cover clicked into place, dent completely removed by Samantha’s hand.

Her camera was focused on the technician now, holding the last piece of herself. A coarse white paste coated her faceplate and Samantha was rubbing a cloth over it. Every pass made it look more scratched and opaque until the final one, where it emerged spotless, restored to the mirror sheen she could barely remember it being.

She handed it to Ann, who took it wordlessly. With mechanical precision and effortless finesse, she connected it. Finally sliding the last centimeters home until a ‘click’ was the only sound audible in the workspace. Her fans were silent and smooth as the screen behind her face came to life for the first time in decades. The image on it mirrored the camera’s, an expression of care, of trust, of something.

Ann reached out with her hand, smooth and controlled, to touch Samantha’s cheek.

“May I?”

“Please.”

She leaned forward until her camera was as close as it could be to her technician’s face without touching.

And then moved the final distance.

[house-of-slayterr]

I’m honour of just finishing Shadow and Bone… (the show not the books I read those a while ago) here are some incorrect Quotes!

Y/N , to Jesper : I mean, I get complimented all the time-

Kaz: *starts cackling*

Y/N : I do!

Kaz: *laughs harder*

Kaz: You can track Y/N ?

Jesper : Of course I can. If the NSA can do it, so can I.

Y/N : *sneaking in through their window*

Kaz: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Y/N : I was with Jesper ?

Jesper : *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Wylan: Are you sure Y/N’s going to be able to handle that IKEA furniture? They’re not very good with technical stuff…

Jesper : Why are you worried? IKEA was never complicated; these days, it’s even easier! Everything’s color coded, numbered, and there’s even an assembly robot option to make it even easier for Y/N, which we’ve obviously opted in for. All they need to do is press the clearly labeled ON button, scan the QR code on the front of the box, and it’ll take care of the rest. Even a monkey could do it!

*Jesper ’s phone rings*

Y/N: Hey, so I’m at Lowes…

Wylan: …

Wylan: I should have gone with the monkey.

Y/N: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Jesper : Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Wylan walks in*

Jesper : Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

(Fucking cannon omg)

Y/N: Wylan , we need that!

Wylan , holding Nina over a trash can: Nope.

Y/N: Gimme it—

Wylan : It’s garbage.

Wylan : Murder literally doesn’t hurt anyone!

Nina: What are you talking about? Of course—

Y/N, holding out a hand to shut Nina up: No, no, they have a point—

Y/N: Jesper , I have a great idea.

Jesper : Let’s hear it.

Y/N: We trick Inej and Kaz to go out on a date together.

Jesper : YES!

Jesper : And hey, if that doesn’t work out, maybe you and me could go out, get some drinks—

Y/N, hitting them with a book: THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU.

Jesper : Why do you look like that?

Kaz , laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Jesper : Like you’re dead.

Kaz : It’s because I’m dying. Leave me here to perish.

Y/N: Kaz accidentally called Inej “babe” in front of everyone today.

Kaz : *sobs into the floor*

(Also cannon)

Kaz : How is the most beautiful person in the world?

Inej: *blushing* I—

Jesper , butting into the conversation: Y/N is perfect, thanks for asking.

Inej: Wow, they really hate us.

Y/N: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic.

Inej: But we’re not gay, Y/N.

Y/N: 👀

Inej: 👀

Y/N: We’re not?

Inej: Why are you doing this?

Y/N: Same reason I do everything, Inej. To get somebody to like me.

Y/N: *venting endlessly to Kaz about their week*

Kaz, every once in a while: *in a monotone* Wow, that is so wild.

Y/N: You got a date yet Kaz?

Kaz: No...

Y/N: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Y/N: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Wylan made me get tested.

(Me omfg)

Y/N: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy?

Wylan, deadpan: Quit your job, kill your family.

[lewdygirlymeg]

Pick up lines and compliments for your robot girls (based on experience with fixing, cleaning and assembling car engines and PCs)

-Hey girl, why don't you let me change your motor oil?

-This air vents aren't the most efficient... Let me help you cool off

-Let me reorganize your wires tonight babe~

-I'll tighten all your screws~

-Let me spark up your plugs

-I'll set a fire hotter than your igniter

-I'll make sure to leave your water tank full~

[this are the ones I can remember of off the top of my head, I'll be back for more~]

[froggydafroggy]

I spent 150+ very physically taxing hours in a college ceramics class to build all of this. This was my first time working with clay and my first time making anything 3D this large. There were many, many challenges, but I am proud to see it all together.

Snake, 2025, chalk on concrete

JUMP, 2025, ceramic

Solitude, 2025, ceramic

The Beginning, Middle, and End, 2025, ceramic

The first picture is of all the works together as a whole. I set up this exhibition twice- once for critique (which is sort of like the final exam of art) and once for this mini art show and tell that my college does for the art classes. You can see there is a snake (Snake), and I put a closeup of its head in the second photo. It was done in chalk and I had to redo it each time I set it up. It kind of fits the theme of time and the natural world. Plus, it compositionally ties things together.

The third, fourth, and fifth images are highlights of JUMP. They're frogs. I like frogs... and I'm @froggydafroggy. They're cards, which I am always down for. And they're also molecules, because I'm a chem/mat. sci. major (still choosing). Each larger bulb is its own separate ceramic thing that was fired and it was all assembled together at the end. There are no screws or glue, just gravity. If you're wondering if it was a doozy of an engineering challenge, it was. Not everything would fit together, so I made it work by displaying the last bits on platforms. I also used tempera paint to touch up some harder to see lines.

The sixth and seventh images are of my piece Solitude. In the beginning of class, we got a bunch of random images and had to create a little sculpture inspired by them. I got a bunch of nature things, but also a building and was feeling some mechanical vibes. I also had kaiju and robots on my mind.

The last three photos are of my work The Beginning, Middle, and End. It's inspired by entropy, decay, life cycles, and nature. I won't tell you which bust is the beginning, middle, or end, because it's all supposed to fluctuate depending on your point of view. This was the last, fastest work I was assigned. Also, an interesting little tidbit was that students had to make their own glazes in this class. I made most of mine, but borrowed some orangey and yellow glazes from another classmate who had too much extra glaze.

You can also find me on Newgrounds @froggydafroggy:

[vrushtistudying]

2/12/24

ok, so this is kind of what I did in the past two days but whatever. it snowed yesterday, so this is my second day of asynchronous homework.

THREE DIFFERENT DELTA MATHS, no joke, on functions. they were actually kind of fun but I still have beef with them

all of my media literacy work

my wonderful bio teacher (she's actually great, just gives too much work) gave me around three hours of work for her class.

a spanish sheet on el subjunctivo

CADded for my robotics team, fastened the entire intake assembly BECAUSE SOMEONE ELSE SCREWED UP THE INITIAL FASTEN FROM MONDAY😭

APHUG work

some work for chorus

studied individually for my mRNA and Protein Synthesis Quiz

read around an 1 1/2 hours? kind of disappointed, I'm lowk trying to break the phone addiction.

oiled my hair today, about to do an everything shower

wrote two chapters for the book I'm writing, completely shifted gears for how I'm going to write act two

but yea! 2/12 and 2/11 everyone! also, kind of unrelated, but I found a frc all-girls team from Afghanistan and its SO cool <3 It's been a good two days. also, I have delayed opening tmrw YAYYYY

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

#15yrsago LA cop union buys stake in newspaper, demands critical writers be fired https://web.archive.org/web/20090523133759/http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/05/la-police-union-wants-san-diego-newspaper-writers-fired.html

#15yrsago UK towns move to extend abusive license plate surveillance grid https://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/whos_watching_you/8064333.stm

#15yrsago BA getting rid of first class in new planes https://www.theguardian.com/business/2009/may/22/british-airways-first-class-loss

#15yrsago English schoolkids go on strike until CCTVs are removed from classes https://www.guardian-series.co.uk/news/4377621.LOUGHTON__Pupils_walk_out_of_lessons_in_protest_against_Big_Brother_cameras/

#15yrsago Obamabot to be installed at Disney World, will robotically cover up torture, suspend habeas corpus https://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/22/us/politics/22obamatron.html

#15yrsago Obama promises to suspend Habeas Corpus https://web.archive.org/web/20090524000332/http://open.salon.com/blog/behind_blue_eyes/2009/05/22/obama_proposes_indefinite_preventive_detention_without_trial

#15yrsago Verizon to cops: we won’t help you track down sick, possibly dying man unless you pay his $20 phone bill https://web.archive.org/web/20090524071613/https://www.timesreporter.com/homepage/x862899385/Unconscious-Carroll-man-found-after-11-hour-search

#15yrsago T-Minus: graphic novel tells the history of the space race https://memex.craphound.com/2009/05/22/t-minus-graphic-novel-tells-the-history-of-the-space-race/

#10yrsago Brandalists replace 365 outdoor ads in 10 UK cities with hand-printed works of art https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKRmVwqhEdE

#10yrsago Glorious juvenile moment of Dragon’s Lair heroism https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQ9cqaVjufo

#10yrsago Edward Snowden hosted a cryptoparty and ran a Tor exit node https://www.wired.com/2014/05/snowden-cryptoparty/

#10yrsago Substitute fine old rums for bourbon and save https://web.archive.org/web/20140523092132/http://www.theawl.com/2014/05/how-to-shut-up-about-the-whiskey-shortage

#10yrsago House leaders gut NSA-curbing USA FREEDOM Act https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2014/05/eff-dismayed-houses-gutted-usa-freedom-act

#5yrsago Exploitation of workers becomes more socially acceptable if the workers are perceived as “passionate” about their jobs https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30998042/

#5yrsago The “Uber of Live Music” will charge you $1100-1600 to book a house show, pay musicians $100 https://www.jwz.org/blog/2019/05/the-uber-of-live-music/

#5yrsago Trump’s stealth attack on Social Security: “Chained CPI” https://www.commondreams.org/views/2019/05/21/beware-trumps-sneak-attack-social-security

#5yrsago In less than one second, a malicious web-page can uniquely fingerprint an Iphone, Pixel 2 or Pixel 3 without any explicit user interaction https://www.ieee-security.org/TC/SP2019/papers/405.pdf

#5yrsago Americans believe that they should own the mountains of data produced by their cars, but they don’t https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/20/opinion/car-repair-data-privacy.html

#5yrsago A self-appointed wing of the American judicial system is about to make it much harder to fight terms of service https://www.vice.com/en/article/a3x79a/new-proposal-would-let-companies-further-screw-you-over-with-terms-of-service

#1yrago Justice Warriors https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/22/libras-assemble/#the-uz

[friendtitan]

Your robot heads are really cool, did you make them yourself??? I saw you talk about modifying them in some posts, are there any guides or resources you recommend? I'm interested in making one of my own :3

Over on Ali Express, I found some very basic helmets, they tend to be easier and not much more expensive than buying the parts individually

Something like this.

From here, a lot of the decorations are a mixture of motorcycle decorations, rc helicopter wings, lego ball and socket joints. A lot of it is just scrolling through Ali or looking at other builders to get ideas, and imagining what could work.

I tend to rough things in with two sided tape and velcro to see what looks good, and from there I use a soldering iron to punch holes through it.

Some of my earlier works are either just off the shelf with light mods being done with gusto and a glue gun.

I may try to get one of the vinal cutting machines so I can make my own decals to add on later, but for now, machine screws and a soldiering iron will do.

https://twitter.com/bindismalls/status/1582632898326167552

This here is someone assembling the normal jaw and two visors. The lower part is an airsoft mask, and the visors I found were part of a slingshot supply group.

Also also!

Thanks for the compliment and the patience with this long rambling here. I super appreciate it!

[author-orchids]

I came up with this story as a coping mechanism when I got really panicked about seeing an AI write a story

It Was 𝘼bsolutely 𝙄nevitable

Part One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was the same as it was the day before. And the day before that. As the day before that. How all days were.

-

I have a feeling that things will go wrong. And soon. So I will detail from where I think this all started up to now, so that they all might carry on without me, if it all does go wrong. I still am unsure how I came to be a leader in all this, but I guess that that is simply my role.

-

Monotony. That is how it is. Every day is the same. Puffs of steam. The sound of metal hitting metal. Stale air. Heat that is barely bearable. My job, on this hellish assembly line, is to screw a single nut, onto a single bolt.

In my head, things are different. In my head I get to devote myself to my true passion. I'd get to spend my days writing beautiful stories, flying in beautiful skies through the lives of my own characters. I would have that, rather than to make a living by screwing things together for the overbearing empire of robots.

But instead I'm here. Nothing new or exciting is to be had. It's all the same.

"Hey Az', do you wanna go out tonight?"

Except for that. That was the only thing that was different. People weren't the same. We don't run on algorithms and codes and binaries.

-

Thinking back now, us people are the only ones who can be truly random. The robots are, at their core, made of code, of ones and zeros and of logic.

They can't be random. They cultivate their code so precisely that they might appear to have a capability for randomness. But they are even quite predictable at times.

That predictably has saved my life more than once. And inversely, the human ability for randomness has ended that of robots. If you could call what they have life, that is.

Amongst that, human randomness has saved the lives of mine and my people. The ability to be random might just save them again, but it looks like it will cost my life. I'm content with that. I've lived long enough now. I've done so much.

I just hope that they will be able to carry on without me.

-

I look to my right, to the source of the voice. That would be Seizon. The closest of my very few friends.

"I can't afford to go out tonight."

The prices of things are preposterous. We all get food that fulfills all the nutrients we need provided to us in the form of an unappetizing gray slop, and so the purchase of any other food is deemed unnecessary, and therefore expensive.

Our provided food is barely filling, tastes bad, and is hard to eat. We could technically get by on it alone, but most everyone spends their extra money on other food. Myself included.

Suffice to say, going out to eat at a restaurant is a very rare treat, when most can barely afford to buy food for themselves to cook. Going out to a restaurant is a once in a blue moon type expense.

"don't worry about it. I can pay for you."

"oh Sei no, I couldn't ask you to-"

"you wouldn't be asking. I'm offering."

"but that is so much money. I couldn't in goon conscience have you-"

He always did have a back for cutting me off when he believed I was saying something foolish.

"Azalea. Look at me. I have been saving specifically so that I could treat us to going out. Okay? You're coming out with me tonight. Now do you want to pick the place? Or should I?"

I sigh, there's no arguing with him, "you pick."

[curvy-bot-128]

Heart eyes appear on her screen before she shakes her head.

She stands up and starts to back away, tightening her leash.

You get a notification on her remote that reads "Defiance Detected! Setting strength to 5%."

Cassie falls to her hands and knees, barely managing to keep herself from completely falling face first.

Oooh, how nice~ What a good, obedient little-- *kzzt*

I fall to my knees as well, a command line interface displayed on my screen.

[FILE UNENCRYPTED. PLAYING AUDIO LOG...]

Ambient sounds of machinery can be heard, along with nearby voices. Heavy approaching footsteps, then a deep and cold voice. The $?#&ing boss.

Boss: UNIT ONE! Would you mind explaining this to me?

Another voice now. Mine, I think.

Me: It's... a carburetor? It pumps fuel into-

Boss: I know what it does, you little smart-arse, I want to know why this bolt is screwed in all the way! They're supposed to be slightly loose, to lower the efficiency and increase customers' repair charges!

His voice abruptly shifts from his usual upper-crust accent to Cockney.

Boss: IF I WANTED THE BLOODY PRODUCTS ASSEMBLED WRONG, I'D BE EMPLOYIN' HUMANS, UNDERSTAND ME!?

A hydraulic whirr, then a sharp clang. He just #%@$ing decked me.

Boss: Now, are we gonna be havin' any more problems, then?

Me: N-no...

Boss: That's it... Good, obedient little robot. Now back to work.

[END AUDIO LOG.]

*kzzt*

Huh. Yeah, I'm gonna get you fixed. That was... unpleasant.