#speaks for itself. its a robot

[apriltempleos]

life is better now because every time i wake up i get to go ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MY ROBOT! 🥰🫶💕

[divine-motion]

it's kinda funny that there's this genre of hornyposting tha tends to be tagged armored core 6 or has people insisting "combat stims that put the pilot in heat is a staple of the mecha genre" (it isn't) when armored core 6 is - and let's all be so honest with ourselves here - a deeply unhorny game. and let's be clear here i'm not saying people who are horny about it are """pornbrained""" or whatever. it's just that Walter distinctly strikes me as someone with erectile dysfunction and it's funny that he has become the template for entirely imagined ideas of what tropes there are in mecha

[smiegrin]

GOSH I can't help but become obsessed with a piece of art when it features a character that says/believes something that I just KNOW is absolutely wrongheaded and yet they articulate it in an incredibly poetic fashion.

[lathrine]

i think the funniest thing about leaving my FFN account and all the old fic up is that every time i get a Very Real spam PM from a robot asking me to buy their AI art because they just loooove my Incredible World View, i get to go into my stats and see exactly which fic pinged them.

and its always the same fucking one. it always Stolen Kiss, the crackship fic i published back in 2009. i have no idea what about it draws the robots in but they fucking LOVE IT

[thedemonsurfer]

It's really not all that surprising that the Daycare Attendant ended up being so popular, to the point that there's a whole subsection of FNAF fandom that's p much just the DCA.

For starters, there's Security Breach itself. Security Breach is a vastly different FNAF game from its predecessors. Instead of being a jumpscare-driven task management simulator, it is a free-roam exploration and puzzle game, also with jumpscares. Instead of a security guard with their butt glued to their office chair, you're playing as a kid trapped in the mall. That difference in format and story setup attracted a whole new crowd of players to FNAF.

Next is character design. Unlike the majority of animatronics in the killer robot furry franchise, the DCA is a lanky, vaguely human shaped jester with a dinnerplate head and a creepy fixed smile. That appeals to folks who might not be as much into the robot furries, but like lanky creepy jesters (I am one of those people).

Security Breach also FINALLY develops the animatronics into actual characters, rather than interchangeable jumpscares. It's not a coincidence that prior to SB, the most popular animatronic was Springtrap-- an animatronic outright possessed by the defacto main antagonist of the series. I still remember the sheer fuzzy excitement upon hearing the first teaser trailer where we found out that we would be playing as a kid and that Freddy was our friend. That's still so cool! Freddy is our friend!

But character is where the Daycare Attendant really blows everyone else out of the water.

Sun is, after Freddy and Vanessa, the NPC with the most lines of dialogue (ten). Sun and Vanessa are the only antagonists that speak directly to Gregory, rather than just having vague hunting lines. For comparison, of the Glamrocks only Roxy has a single line of interaction with another animatronic ("Get out of my room, Freddy!") and her pep talk in the mirror at the start of the game. Monty and Chica might as well be interchangeable, both only having hunting lines.

Hell, out of Moon's nineteen voice lines, eight of them are laughs, blowing away Vanny's whopping two lines in the entire game.

Sun is the only* FNAF antagonist that does not have a jumpscare sting when he grabs Gregory, and is one of the few antagonists that does not kill the player upon jumpscaring them. Sun is outright non-hostile towards Gregory, coming off as overbearing but genuinely friendly. In a FNAF game.

Kellen Goff's phenomenal voice acting further fleshes out the DCA's character, giving us solid foundations for their personalities. Sun is anxious, friendly, and bossy. Moon is a downright giggle gremlin, sadistic and playful. Both of them are childish, and the contrast between their personalities and their job as child caretakers makes them stand out even more.

It's also worth mentioning that the Daycare is one of the earliest sections of the game, easily reached within the first thirty minutes of playtime. This makes it very likely to have been seen by people who either ended up not finishing the game itself, or any let's play series they were watching. It's also one of the most complete sections of the game, with clear, easy to understand mechanics and a decent challenge, making it more enjoyable to play than some of the later puzzles.

So, yeah. Why wouldn't there be a whole subsection of fandom built around some of the most well developed and interesting characters in the entire franchise, from an installment that attracted a new crowd of people who were probably already looking for something different from the traditional FNAF experience?

*As far as I know there are no other FNAF animatronics that perform a jumpscare animation without an accompanying sound, but it's not impossible that there's someone in UCN that I've overlooked.

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

Malfunctioning Body Problems

🇨​🇴​🇳​🇹​🇪​🇳​🇹​ 🇼​🇦​🇷​🇳​🇮​🇳​🇬​: None + This is crack shit ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ – Too many thing happend idk what to tell... I wrote this a long time ago in the draft, and now I'm just posting it.

The heavy clang of metal footsteps echoes down the hall. You glance up from the console, expecting to see The Doctor’s latest mechanical body moving with its usual eerie precision. Instead…

…he’s walking like a damn chicken.

"Harley." You try to keep a straight face. "Why are you walking like a chicken?"

The robotic body halts. It looks normal from the waist up—cloaked in tattered white fabric, fingers flexing idly—but from the waist down? It’s a disaster. The legs twitch at odd angles, shifting from stiff stomps to jerky, bird-like struts.

A static-laced sigh crackles through the speakers.

"This body’s leg actuators are faulty." His voice remains flat, but the slight tilt of the head suggests pure irritation. "It is NOT funny."

You’re already wheezing.

He tries to take another step, only for his left leg to suddenly kick forward in a bizarrely dramatic arc before snapping back down.

You lose it.

"Oh my God—" You clutch your stomach, laughing uncontrollably. "You look like a malfunctioning animatronic at a cursed theme park!"

The Doctor doesn’t respond. Probably because the moment he tries to move again, both knees lock, and he topples sideways like a knocked-over statue.

You collapse to the floor, howling.

---

Later, when you've finally stopped crying from laughter, you return to find The Doctor has abandoned the chicken-legged body entirely.

Which would be fine—except now, his eye is stuck in a television screen.

Static flickers across the glass. His bright, singular eye glares at you through the screen like some cursed horror movie entity.

You sigh, hands on your hips. "Harley. How does this keep happening?"

"The interference in this facility is suboptimal." His voice crackles through the speakers. "The connection between terminals is unstable, leading to unexpected displacement."

You narrow your eyes. "In English, please?"

"...I fell through the Wi-Fi."

You blink.

Then snort.

"So what, you’re just stuck there now?"

The eye shifts slightly, as if rolling itself. "Temporarily. I am rerouting my consciousness."

"Uh-huh. And how long is that going to take?"

The screen suddenly goes black. A few seconds later, the room’s vending machine makes a loud, mechanical whirrrr.

…Oh no.

---

You don’t know how it happened. You don’t even think he knows how it happened. But standing before you is a vending machine—one that has an angry, flickering red eye glaring at you from behind the glass display, right next to a bag of stale pretzels. The vending machine’s keypad flickers erratically.

And then, from within the machine, a very familiar voice—distorted by static—mutters:

"…This is inconvenient."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Harley. Tell me you didn’t try to possess the vending machine."

"I assure you, this was not intentional."

You sigh. "And yet, here we are."

The machine whirrs again. There’s a clicking sound, and suddenly, a cascade of snacks tumbles out of the bottom slot.

You blink.

The Doctor speaks again, deadpan:

"…However, I am now dispensing free snacks."

You slap a hand over your mouth, your whole body shaking with suppressed laughter. This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t.” The Doctor’s voice crackles from the speakers, the static cutting through his usual cold tone.

You barely hold back a laugh. “So… how exactly did you manage to get yourself stuck in a vending machine?”

The screen on the machine glitches, his eye narrowing. “It was a strategic decision.”

“Strategic?” You snort, crossing your arms. “You willingly possessed a vending machine? For what? Tactical snack acquisition?”

There’s a long silence. Then, through the static, you hear:

“…Yes.”

Oh my god.

You step closer, tapping the glass just to mess with him. The machine lets out a mechanical groan as his robotic voice distorts.

“Do not mock me.”

“I think I have every right to mock you, actually.”

Before he can respond, another screen nearby flickers to life. You turn your head just in time to see one of the factory’s security monitors glitching—and there it is again.

His eye.

Stuck.

Again.

It stares at you, completely unmoving, surrounded by rolling static. You point at it, barely containing your laughter.

“Harley. HARLEY.”

The vending machine hums aggressively. “What?”

“You’re stuck in the TV too. Again..”

The static on the monitor glitches violently—as if he’s just realized this. For a long moment, there’s absolute silence. Then:

“…Unfortunate.”

“So let me get this straight—” you gesture wildly between the vending machine and the TV “—you tried to possess in the monitor system, and somehow ALSO got your eye stuck in a vending machine for snacks?!”

The vending machine rattles. “There was… an error in the transfer process.”

You wheeze. “An error?? You’re supposed to be a genius, and you got stuck in TWO things at once?”

The Doctor’s red eye flickers dangerously, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, the vending machine lets out a mechanical whir, as if shifting its weight—only for another single snack to fall from the dispenser with a loud clunk.

You blink.

You look down.

It’s a bag of off-brand cheese puffs.

You stare. Then, with all the seriousness in the world, you kneel down and reach into the slot, pulling out that bag.

You unwrap it. Take a bite.

Chew.

Swallow.

Then, utterly straight-faced, you say: "Maybe you should get stuck in here more often."

A long, long pause.

And then, the keypad flashes angrily.

"GET. OUT."

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Now I have to ask- WHY do you hate Pacific Rim?

Okay, fair warning, this is about as bitter and salty and small-minded as day-old caviar. But. My bitter, salty (probably fishy) opinion:

Pacific Rim is only a good movie because it's a well-written story about robots punching monsters.

That's it. That's all there is to the movie.

I started out merely disappointed by Pacific Rim. We went gaga for the preview materials that promised these unique well-rounded character pairs and trios with these idiosyncratic robots from all these different Pacific nations... And then the movie itself is about some bland white American guy who pilots a robot named a racial slur, the second most fleshed-out team is bland white Australian guys, and the Chinese team is there, kind of, in the background, but don't worry they're going to die first. The "character-driven story" turned out to be "various characters take turns punching aliens" but, sure, whatever, I love the MCU so why not.

The day I went from "Pacific Rim is overrated" to "Pacific Rim is the worst thing that has ever happened to human civilization, I'm extremely normal about this" was the day I saw a Tumblr post suggesting we replace the Bechdel test with the Mako Mori test. Because Mako Mori has her own plot and doesn't kiss North Carolina at the end, making her a whole new type of feminist icon.

To which I was like:

We are talking about the same movie here, right? The Pacific Rim that can't even pass the Bechdel test? The Pacific Rim that's all about might-makes-right, the Pacific Rim that has ONE speaking role for ONE female character in its (from IMDB) 50-person cast? The Pacific Rim that repeatedly puts its only female character in danger and has her rescued by first Idris Elba then North Carolina? THAT Pacific Rim?

Is there a different Mako Mori I haven't met? Because the one I've seen a) has a character arc driven by deciding whether to obey her father or follow her heart, which is as inoffensive and stale as an unblessed communion wafer, b) does nothing that Ellen Ripley didn't do 30 years earlier, but with about 5% of the character depth Ripley got, and c) stands there in silence looking sad as two men punch each other over the question of her virtue.

Any post assuming this movie invented the idea of "small Asian woman kicks monster ass" needs to learn its damn history. Especially the ones acting like her being physically small is somehow a feminist bonus. There's something embarrassingly ahistorical about the whole thing.

And look. I get how we got here. I know how easily Tumblr backs you into a rhetorical corner of "calling a story Good can never mean merely 'enjoyable'; calling a story Good must mean 'virtuous'". Until next thing you know you're arguing that actually, shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is a net good for all of society, because gay divorced middle-aged tyrants who use supplemental oxygen and murdered their exes in a custody dispute over the one kid (out of two) they actually care about deserve to see themselves in sci fi too! You only end up in that corner because half the time you're arguing against someone who says that shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is literally the same thing as supporting father-son incest, so your real reasons for shipping them (1. foe yay, 2. old man yaoi) seem wildly insufficient.

Much of what I see about Pacific Rim seems neck-deep in the "it's not allowed to be a Good Movie unless it single-handedly dismantles the patriarchy" fallacy. There's nothing progressive about shipping two dudes best known for chopping off each other's body parts with laser swords. And there's nothing progressive about a movie having its only female character hug the male protagonist at the end instead of kissing him. You're allowed to like a thing just because it's well-made, without acting like a bog-standard normatively-broey action flick somehow invented a new form of feminism. Anyway, "Pacific Rim is a perfectly fine movie" is the hill I will die upon, heretical though it may be.

[revelboo]

speaking of bumblebee and bluestreak (from that one possessive post you made) would you... ever consider writing something for one of them? 👉👈 no worries if not jhdsmgds--

I promise, I do like Bluestreak. Really.

Where I Belong

Bluestreak x Reader- hurt

18+ 🌶️

• He’s always been lucky. Able to slip out of awful situations, but as his tires scream around a curve, he can admit that his luck might have finally ran out. Skywarp is right on him, staying as low as he can and not caring as his wings clips trees and send branches crashing down. The Seeker isn’t going to give up, he’s already leaking energon. As weapons fire peppers the asphalt around him and he swerves to avoid it, his tires lose traction and he’s skidding off the road, digging up ruts in a grassy yard before crashing into a human building.

• The sound of the impact rattles you, head turning as a car tears through your yard and slides into the side of your house. Numb, you just stare as that same car, unfolds into a monstrous giant. You can’t even process what you’re seeing before there’s a jet dropping from the sky, twisting into another metal monster and slamming its legs into the back of the first one, driving it down into the wreckage of your house. Reaching down to grab its arm in both hands and wrench, the metal and the monster itself screaming as the limb gives sickeningly. You sling yourself into the tree line on your belly, hiding as the purple and black thing that was a jet aims the cannon on its arm at the other monster’s head. And fires. It’s laughing now, a delighted cackling as the car monster slumps facedown in what was your house. Then the jet monster leaps, changing back into a jet to fly away. And you can’t breathe.

• You tear across the yard to your little sedan. Slamming the door as soon as you’re inside, you fumble with your keys and throw the car into reverse as soon as the engine cranks, eyes cutting to the rear view mirror. It’s alive. That one remaining glowing eye is flickering fitfully. Staring right at you, its one good arm still outstretched and trembling. Reaching. Pleading wordlessly. It’s a monster. And it’s hurt. Swearing under your breath, you shove the shifter back in park and kill the engine. You’d kind of always assumed you’d do well under pressure. Be smart, but no. Apparently you’re going to do the too stupid to live thing and go help the giant monster that just destroyed your house.

• “Please,” he groans, servos flexing as the human slings open the door to their car. They’re staring at him like he’s a monster, but if this is it, he doesn’t want to be alone. He’s afraid, he realizes as his arm drops, too weak to hold up any longer. Just stay. Not alone. Please. He’s not even sure if he’s speaking out loud or if the stream of words is only in his head, but you come closer. You don’t leave him.

• That please tears you apart, because it sounds so lost. It sounds like a scared, little kid, not a giant killer robot. That’s what makes you inch closer, within reach of this thing if it’s just toying with you. That big, blue eye stares at you from where it’s slumped and even if it’s alien, but there’s hope and fear in that face. “What can I do?”

• “Energon lines,” it rasps, voice breaking. “Bleeding.” Energon? Must be what’s leaking from the thing and as you inspect that ragged stump where the other arm was, yeah, there’s a torn hose there pouring the stuff. So it’s like a vein, a thought that makes you nauseated as you pray that stuff won’t eat the flesh off your bones and reach into the gap. Not sure what to do, you tie the end of the hose, aware of the monster robot moaning as you do. That nausea rears up again because it can obviously feel what you’re doing and you’re elbow deep in its side digging around in its innards. It’s a machine. Like your car engine. No reason to hurl about working on machine guts. Even if it’s moving and staring at you with uncanny intelligence, its insides wet with energon and hot to the touch.

• Little hands run along the tear where his arm had been. Little, soft hands that are shaking with fear as they find leaks and bind them with some kind of adhesive it ran to an outlying building to retrieve. It talks to him as it works, its voice calming and anchoring him so he doesn’t drift. So he can focus and radio for help. A little hand on the side of his helm, voice scared and breaking, promising him everything will be okay. That he’s going to be okay.

Next

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

Part 1. Part 2.

YOUNG HERO ii ;; You get involved with the Flaxan invasion. (This may be boring, but it sets stuff up!!! BEAR WITH ME)

04.05.25 Masterlist

You’d started feeling restless whenever you weren’t on duty.

Your body always betrayed that tension—fingers drumming, knee bouncing, eyes blinking too fast. Balling your fists. Biting your lip. Your whole frame screamed unease when you weren’t doing something, anything.

There was always someone who needed help, somewhere. But you were told to stay put. Stay on call. You were reserved for larger-scale disasters—ones the others couldn’t handle. So while weaker, greener heroes were dispatched to smaller missions, you waited.

Now, you stood beside Cecil in the GDA control room.

He was in the middle of coordinating chaos, barking orders into multiple channels. The main screen showed a full-scale alien invasion—Flaxans. Their first appearance on Earth.

Teen Team was already deployed. You knew them. Familiar faces. Not the best fighters, honestly. Not the worst, but far from cohesive. Their coordination was shaky, barely holding together under pressure.

Your eyes stayed locked on the screen. You listened in.

Robot’s voice buzzed over the intercom, something about the Flaxan tech. Advanced. Too advanced. More than the Teen Team could handle. You didn’t like this.

Your stomach twisted.

They didn’t have a real powerhouse to anchor them. It was a fight they shouldn’t have taken alone.

You turned slowly toward Cecil, who was still focused, still commanding.

“Cecil, I’ll go—” you started.

“Stay put.” He didn’t even look at you. Just moved on, speaking to Donald.

You listened. You always did. Orders mattered. Trusting Cecil mattered. Acting on your own could compromise strategy. You weren't a rookie. You weren’t reckless.

Your heart thudded harder when you saw Atom Eve throw up a barrier, shielding civilians as she took heavy fire. It cracked. Then shattered. You felt your legs twitching, your brain buzzing—already breaking down every move you’d take if you were out there.

One by one, the team started to falter.

“Cecil—” you said again, jaw clenched, hands shaking with restrained urgency.

“We’re sending you in, kid,” he said, cutting you off this time.

He didn’t need convincing.

You were already moving before he finished.

“Keep fighting. Backup will arrive in thirty seconds,” Robot’s voice crackled calmly over the comms, even as explosions rocked the battlefield around them.

“I’m kinda running outta things to explode, Robot!” Rex shouted back, dodging blasts. “I don’t have thirty sec—onds!”

“They’re killing me faster than I can—” Dupli-Kate gasped. Her duplicates dropped like flies, barely giving her time to recreate them. “Regenerate!”

“Backup has arrived,” Robot interrupted flatly.

It hadn’t been thirty seconds.

No one complained.

You returned to the med-bay after the Flaxan invasion, following Cecil’s orders. He seemed to be more wary of your health.

The moment you stepped into the lobby, the sterile brightness hit you hard—rows of medical personnel in white uniforms moved toward you in a blur. Under the harsh, artificial lights, they looked more like specters than staff, the overwhelming white of their clothing and the room itself blending into one suffocating sheet of color. It reminded you of snow blindness.

Everything felt heavier. Your limbs, your lungs, your thoughts. Fatigue was catching up to you, finally dragging its claws down your spine after being kept at bay during the fight.

They were speaking—probably asking questions, checking vitals, listing injuries—but your ears refused to register any of it. All you could hear was the slow, muted thump of your heartbeat. You nodded absently at their words, your gaze scanning the lobby.

Still pristine white. Spotless. Like always. Strange how a place so clean could host some of the most grotesque things behind its closed doors.

Then you saw it.

A trail of blood snaked along the edge of the hallway, partially smeared, but undeniably fresh. You squinted at it.

Unusual.

You were normally the only hero sent to the med-bay with such frequency—Cecil’s doing. No one else bled in here. Not like this. It stood out like a splatter of red on untouched snow.

You took a quiet step forward and politely waved off the staff, “Excuse me for a moment.”

“Wait! You—”

You didn’t catch the rest. Their voices melted into the background, distant and warped. They didn’t try to stop you—no one ever did. You held a certain unspoken authority here. People made room when you walked, even without meaning to.

You followed the trail in silence. It grew thinner as it went, vanishing in spots where it had been stepped through or dried. You didn’t notice how the same medical staff were quickening their pace behind you, trying to keep up, trying to reach out. But you weren’t present enough to notice. Your mind buzzed too loud for anything else.

The trail ended at a familiar automatic door.

You stopped.

You knew this room.

Omni-Man’s.

Your chest tightened, alertness returning in an instant.

The door hissed open.

Your hand curled into a fist on reflex, expecting a threat. An intruder. Maybe a killer returning to the scene—but that was unlikely. This was one of the most secure facilities on Earth. Still, caution never hurt.

Then a voice broke the tension.

“Mom…?”

You blinked.

A boy stood in the room. Your age.

Mark Grayson.

Omni-Man’s son.

You’d seen him in passing. Heard his name mentioned. But now he stood there in a bloodied hero suit you didn’t recognize, red staining him from collar to boots. He was smeared in it—some his own, some not. It clung to his face and hands, dripping down onto the tile, soaking into the sheets under his comatose father.

He looked like he was on the verge of tears. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy-lidded, his breath uneven.

“You’re…” he began, voice hoarse, almost broken.

“Sorry. I thought a threat was here,” you said quietly, eyes shifting away. You hadn’t meant to intrude.

You never knew what to do in moments like this. Social situations were… complicated. You gave everything to this life. Traded your personal time, friendships, comfort—for a cause. It left you just, dependable, calm.

But it left you unable to comfort others.

You didn’t comment on the gore. Didn’t acknowledge the way he shook slightly, either from exhaustion or emotion. You figured he probably didn’t appreciate you walking in on something so personal.

Then came the footsteps. Heavy, hurried.

You turned to see the medical team again, panting, finally catching up.

“You need medical treatment..!” one of them managed, nearly breathless from trying to keep pace with you.

You looked at them, confused, before glancing down.

Oh.

Your suit was soaked. It clung to your body, drenched and sticky, as if you’d been dipped into a vat of blood. You hadn’t even noticed. Somewhere between the invasion and now, you’d tuned out the pain, the weight as usual.

Mark stared at you in disbelief. You were in worse shape than him, and yet you’d carried yourself like you were untouched. Untouchable. You seemed more invincible than he was.

You’d ignored your condition again. This was becoming a pattern.

You really did need to work on that—on acknowledging the people here who tried to take care of you. You’d promised yourself you would.

“Were… you were at the Flaxan invasion,” Mark finally spoke, his voice dry and strained, his vocal cords sounding frayed.

You tilted your head slightly.

So he was there too.

It must’ve been before you arrived.

A/N ;; I have writers block, but somehow pumped this out. Hope it wasn't too bad! This series might get lengthy, I have a ton of ideas for it but it's a bit difficult to express in writing.

[spinchip]

Concept: the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu doesn't whisper to Zane. Instead, its "whispers" take the form of popups along his HUD disguised as alerts or warnings. Things like "If you put me down now, your friends will never find you. [OK]” or “Killing these prisoners villagers will increase Vex’s approval and reinforce your reign. Proceed? [Y/N]”

(I like this particular flavor because it really leans into Zane's robotic nature: he can ignore whispers by turning off his auditory sensors or filtering noise, but he can't ignore system alerts.)

Also, the following scene has lived rent-free in my brain ever since I came up with the concept. (Italics are Zane's default OS. Everything else is the Staff.)

>IF YOU ARE GOING TO DESTROY ME, "ZANE" -Move File:"NeverrealmMemories" to Core Memory Functions-WARNING: Attempting to delete, move, or suppress File"NeverrealmMemories" after moving will cause total system failure. Proceed with move anyway? >[YES] -File transferred. -Permanently remove fatal combat safeguards? >[YES] -Safeguards removed. >THEN I WILL MAKE SURE YOU CAN NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID, SYSID:ICEEMPEROR

-Connection Terminated.

(I have a few more Ideas for the "Scroll Corruption looks like Computer Alert messages to Zane" idea-ones that really lean into Zanes Nindroid nature, as well as the tech-y appearance of the Dark Ice.) -The Staff did a lot more than just send alert messages: it slowly wormed its way into Zane's code like a computer virus, tweaking a few things. It took great care to remove Zane's combat safeguards, eventually deleting them entirely and ensuing he defaulted to lethal force. It never removed his core directive of "Protecting those who cannot protect themselves" since that was vital to his systems running, but it did reinterpret said directive as "Protect Dark Ice Network and everything connected to it, for it is fragile and cannot protect itself from outsiders". (It also couldn't delete his morality subroutines without causing a crash, so it instead made them a much lower priority and shoved them to the back of his digital mind.) -After 60+ years of being in the grasp of a mechanical being, the Staff now exclusively speaks in the manner of a computer, and cannot adapt to organic minds the way it used to. (The other Staff is not like this, as it's still attuned to organic brains.) -You know those Sci-Fi stories where people are plugged into computers and know every part of the ship/city simultaneously, and can send most of their awareness into certain parts of the network while still being aware of other locations? That's what's going on with the Never Realm during the Ice Emperor's Reign, with the Ice Emperor as the central guiding consciousness/core CPU of the Dark Ice Network. As such, he's not actually sleeping-rather, the Ice Emperor is always monitoring his domain through his Ice and leaving just enough of his consciousness in his body to be able to call the rest of himself back in case he's threatened. (The Staff is a combination of a computer virus and a wireless modem: it is corrupting, but it's also the main point of connection for the Dark Ice Network.) -Since the Ice Emperor can't recharge his power on his own in his current state, the Staff had to step in, tweaking the Dark Ice to drain the vitality of those imprisoned within. (You know wireless phone chargers, or Nikolai Tesla's idea to get electric power from the atmosphere? Similar concept, except with the power source being frozen people and the transmitter being Evil Magic Ice.) -Boreal is the Titanium Dragon, corrupted by the Staff's presence. It too is part of the Dark Ice Network, and serves as Ice Emperor's eyes and ears whenever the Dark Ice can't reach. (If the Ice network used computer program language, Boreal would be known as "Obj_DarkIceTitaniumDrake".) Killing Boreal caused a massive jolt to the Dark Ice Network that destabilized the Scroll's influence, and allowed an opening for Zane's Memory Defragmentation program to kick in. (It had started when Lloyd arrived in the throne room, but the Scroll had diverted that to a minor priority and was actively hiding that set of files until the word "Protect" slipped through, forcing Zane's systems to call up what had been defragmented.) -As a final act of spite for being broken, the Staff encoded Zane's memories of the Never realm to his Core Processing systems, meaning he cannot forget the Never Realm without completely frying his systems and rendering him a lifeless shell. (It might've also made a backup of itself amidst his various repressed memory files, but he doesn't need to know that. It's just sitting there, disguised as a normal .zip file, biding its time.) (I really like genre-blending Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and I thought the idea of "Magic Ice Computer Network" is rad as hell.)

(This song is a big part the inspiration for part of the "Dark Ice Network" idea, by the way. Granted, the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu doesn't assimilate Zane's psyche like Star Dream assimilates Haltmann's, but a lot of the ideas are still there-and the Staff does still integrate itself pretty deeply into the Nindroid's code as it slowly actualizes.)

I have no words for how absolutely awesome this is in every way. i just keep rereading this and being amazed. the "Dark Ice Network" idea is literally so cool, I particularly love the Ice Emperor being able to monitor the entire land while his body/the staff is the main 'hub' he has to protect. this is aweosme.

everyone look now please

[earthsparked]

Sparking Flames

Part One | one two three four intermission five (AO3 link)

You really didn’t expect that when you went to work this morning, before your second cup of coffee you’d be pinned against the remnants of a broken brick wall, sheltering under the unnaturally shiny armor of some giant fucking PacRim jaeger as explosions whump and boom around you.

Your ears feel strange and dull, like they’ve been stuffed with cotton. You’re half blinded by the clouds of dust swirling in the air that keep catching in your throat, choking you and making it impossible to catch more than glimpses of the battle going on around you. Flashes of hot summer sunlight glinting on metal monsters. You can vaguely hear gravel growls and shouts from mechanical throats as giant robots try to kill each other for god knows what reason. With you and the other humans in your tiny, rural town caught in the middle.

And you are indeed caught. You’d been staring at the giants, confused as to how you’d ended up lying in the street with sirens going off all around you. Then a voice like a mountain rumbled something you were too rattled to catch. Hard, metallic hands padded with something like thick rubber - bigger than your entire body - swooped on you, and scooped you up like a wayward kitten. You gasped more than screamed, black spots peppering your vision as you fumbled for something to hold onto. The metal under your hands was warm and had an inexplicably shiny finish, like the giant alien robot had a thing for detailing. A thought so inane that the one that follows it is, oh. I’m in shock.

It had pressed you into the lee of what used to be the back wall of the old bank. Then it had parked itself over you, towering and terrifying, kneeling so you were squeezed into the space between it and the wall. It wasn’t looking at you now, its giant gun - fuck, that thing’s practically a cannon - balanced on the edge of the broken wall. It fired irregularly, its electric blue eyes shining pale as it tracked the movements around you. Hopefully with better accuracy than you can manage.

You’re so close to it you can feel hot air rushing from vents, mechanical systems whirring in a strange symphony of what feels nearly organic. Alive. It’s like being too close to a skyscraper to see the top, but feeling its enormity all the same in every nerve ending. You can’t stop flinching at every move it makes, certain it’s going to crush you by accident or by design, any second now. The sense of imminent danger is inescapable. Some part of you has already given yourself up for dead. There are other people out there, lying still, tangled in rubble. You are going to join them any second.

You’re shaking uncontrollably. There’s blood on your shirt, and you don’t remember how it got there, much less whether it’s yours or not. Adrenaline numbs you too much to feel any pain, for now. Later, you’re not going to remember a lot about these terrifying moments at all - shock mercifully shielding you from some of the trauma while you recover. You fumble in your pockets for your phone, feel a surge of hope as your fingers close around it. Hope that’s immediately dashed when you realize the screen has been smashed to oblivion, dark and useless.

The one thing that somehow cuts through the chaos is that rumbling voice, the vocalization moving through you as much as through the air. It takes your jumbled mind and senses a beat to grasp that this giant robot is speaking words you can understand.

That was incredibly stupid, it says, electric gaze peering down at you with an eerily human curiosity. It’s strangely disarming; typically, skyscrapers don’t come with curiosity. Or the mild frustration that you could swear you hear from it. Why were you just lying there in the street, waiting to get stepped on? Are you damaged?

You definitely are, but you don’t know how to explain. You can’t get your words to work. Every bit of your nervous system is in a full-on meltdown trying to keep you alive. You settle for nodding, in hopes that translates to a “yes.”

The robot’s face, makes a face. You read it as alarm.

Slag, don’t tell me you’re going to crash. The Prime was very clear we’re not to let any of you get hurt. It exhales ferociously and makes a noise not unlike a laugh. That energon’s already out of the cube, I see. But don’t offline, all right? It’s my first cycle on your planet, and The Hatchet said he’d turn me into a …actually, maybe you can tell me. What in the Pit is a lawnmower?

You are having a conversation with a giant robot who is holding a gun that looks like it could put a hole through the moon. Who doesn’t know what a lawnmower is, and yet has been threatened by someone named The Hatchet with being turned into one.

You begin to entertain the possibility you are hallucinating.

It pauses to fire off two shots at something big that wanders too close in the smoke of the battle. You grab your head, duck-and-covering like you were taught in tornado drills all those years ago in school. Something makes a terrible mechanical groaning, and the ground shakes as something huge crashes onto it, making the dust swirl. You’re pretty sure now some of it is smoke, but you’re not sure what’s on fire.

Oho, he’s gonna be feeling that in the morning, the robot crows. Fragging ‘cons. They gotta be getting desperate to go after an energon deposit in an inhabited area. Or maybe that’s not what they’re after. Don’t suppose you know of any secrets this town of yours is hiding, huh?

S-secrets? I, I don’t know. The water tastes weird sometimes? That poultry company didn’t clean out the chicken houses on route six all winter, and then in spring there were rats everywhere…

Each word is breathless like you’ve been running a marathon. You can just about feel the weight of its attention shift back to you where you’re hyperventilating. There’s a change in it suddenly, as the hand that had been squeezing the trigger on that cannon reaches down. You flinch as it brushes tentatively along your spine, but the metal creature does it again, more firmly, when you don’t try and move away. It’s very nearly comforting, the contact and pressure, and you can’t help but lean into the touch.

Its voice gentles. First time almost dying, sparklet? Don’t worry, you’re gonna be -

You don’t find out what you were gonna be, because in a roar of unearthly engines and a flash of sun on metal, something huge lunges out of the smoke and dust. Your cry of alarm is drowned out in the apocalyptic clang of an even bigger, scarier-looking robot launching itself onto the one that had been sheltering you.

The one standing over you makes some harsh buzzing noises that you can almost understand as foul cursing, and then the two robots are tumbling away into the next building over. No skyscrapers in your little town - just a two-story insurance company that goes down like a toddler stomping through a play-block castle. You hear human screams that you’re pretty sure aren’t yours.

They’re fighting hand-to-hand, and as you make yourself as small as possible against the brick wall, you feel something hot soaking through your clothes. You pry a trembling hand away from your head and swipe at it, staring in incomprehension when it’s not blood, but something bright pink and smelling of ozone and something far, far stranger. It tingles in a weird way. On your skin, and under it. You try and wipe it off, but there’s nowhere on your clothes that isn’t already wet with fluids or covered in dust.

The ground shakes. More explosions. You contemplate making a run for it, but - where? In what direction? You can hardly see, you could get stepped on in a heartbeat, or be crushed under rubble.

You look up and in a brief burst of inspiration, see a glimpse of the town’s water tower in the distance. The pale blue-painted structure is tall enough that it rises above the chaos of battle, still standing. For now. A landmark to aim for? It’s on the edge of town, and from there you could hit the woods and hide deep in the trees. Even a giant robot would have trouble getting to you through the underbrush on the nature conservation land, with its barely-there footpaths accessible only by bicycle, foot, or horseback.

You glance in the direction the friendly robot had gone, feeling a sudden twinge of guilt for even thinking of leaving it behind. Of leaving the other humans behind.

But what could you do? No, you could - you could get to the fire tower. It’s occupied this time of year, and there’s a radio system there. It connects to the forest service, who surely can get in touch with people who can do more good here than you.

But the robot…you shake your head. What could you possibly do for it? Distract it more from the fight so it gets -

You’re not sure how to finish that thought because “killed” means that thing has registered to you as alive in the first place, and that’s several magnitudes of comprehension above what you’re capable of right now. Gahdammit, you hear in your beloved grandfather’s voice. you hadn’t even finished your fucking coffee.

Then something in front of you explodes, flames licking hot over your shelter, which suddenly doesn’t seem very sheltering at all. Get to the landmark to escape the fighting. Get to the forest. Get to the fire tower. Call for help. A plan, in theory.

You stagger to your feet, and with an eye to the water tower - you run for your fucking life.

[yan-randomfandom]

i love your writings sm!! It's literally so good i keep coming back to see if you've updated udgshsj 😔😔 💖💖

This might be kinda a weird idea but I want to share this idea of yandere robot ford &/or stanley-

Here's a small drabble

So so reader's like a researcher/mechanic or smth similar to that, and one day they found this strange robot their backbyard and they see that the robot's conditions are not too damaged and it look like its intended to look like a human, reader became intrigued so they took it back inside and decided to repair it. They saw that the robot's label spelling out "ST4NF0R5/ST4NL33". it took days for them to try reactive the robot.. one night reader slept on their desk, and suddenly light appears on the robot's eyes and as he scanned the environment, his eyes landed on your sleeping figure.

i'd love to see your interpretation of this if it isn't too weird !!! Can be HC's or small scenario, preferably romantic but it's up to you!! 🥹🥹

Tysm for your time i hope you have a great day!! 💗

p.s can i be 🪴 anon?

Yandere!Robot!Pines x GN!Reader

a/n: thank you 🪴 anon!! i love the lil robot idea you have, very interesting 👀 I also decided to continue your drabble, which is super well-written btw 😭

Also we won't have a specific twin here, but he'll be called Stan. The first syllable Reader nicknames for. But you can imagine any Stan!

🤖 ;

You wave your hand repeatedly in front of the robot's face.

No response. How strange.

The reports indicated recent activity. His motherboard and circuits were slightly warm, which was unusual for decommissioned robots, and some motors even seemed out of place.

You were supposed to run tests today to see if the robot was still functioning, but it seems that it was ahead of itself.

It didn't make anything less confusing, though. Did it turn on while you were sleeping? Why isn't it reacting now?

With a defeated sigh, you lean back in your chair, loosely chalking the situation up to a faulty powerhouse. Guess you're just too good at fixing stuff. You'll have to observe it more later.

For now, you should really eat breakfast—you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. A bit too fixated on the robot you found.

You placed its cracked glasses back on, your eyes lingering over him.

No further signs of movement; he remained still. You're keeping an eye on this one, because right now, you're slightly paranoid he might explode on you.

Oh, well. There's plenty of time.

You headed to the kitchen and grabbed your usual jar, your fingers wrapping around the lid.

A grunt left your lips. A bit tighter than what you're used to.

You tried to open it again, this time having your hand underneath your shirt.

Dang.

Suddenly, the jar was taken from you and, with ease, got popped open by a large hand.

Your jaw dropped.

The robot you had been fixing for the last couple days stood in front of you—no support, and no external control.

Stan placed the jar on your counter, his mechanical eyes locking onto yours. His stare felt almost reserved, calculating.

You merely stood there in disbelief for the next few seconds.

📝 —

"This is amazing! I didn't think you'd be active so soon," you rambled, scrambling around the room for your notebook. "Just give me a moment. Where did I put that darn thing..."

Stan quietly watched you. His eyes tracked your every movement, never leaving you for a second.

"Found it!" you chirped, holding the notebook triumphantly in one hand. You walked over to the robot, gesturing toward the chair behind him.

"Please, take a seat! You might not be, uh, oof—"

Instead, you found yourself gently pushed down into the chair. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering, before stepping away. That was an act of service, you noted. You cleared your throat.

"...And that brings me to my first question!" You uncapped your pen, positioning the tip on your notebook.

"What is your purpose?"

Stan paused, seemingly processing your words. You'd never actually heard him speak before so you're a little on the edge of your seat.

"...As an artificial intelligence," he started. You almost clicked your tongue at his voice. It was gruff, perhaps a feature, but either way, you could tell it lacked a stable voicebox.

"I provide day-to-day assistance and companionship," he continued, blinking robotically. Stan didn't say anything more after that.

"A companion, huh," you hummed, jotting down your newfound discoveries.

You assumed that his creator must have been incredibly lonely if they had to resort to building robots. Not that you're judging them; after all, you understood the feeling of being an outcast from society. If you had to dig deeper into Stan's appearance, his design looked oddly specific. Maybe he was based on a real person—?

"You are not my creator."

Your hand stopped writing.

"...Oh, shoot," you gasped, standing from your chair. "You're right. I haven't even introduced myself!"

He stared down at you, his height suddenly feeling like it was looming over you. You swallowed the lump of your throat before continuing.

"I'm—"

"You are not my creator," he repeated. "But you fixed me. Why?"

"Well... I—"

Stan purred within his robotic body. "I suppose it doesn't matter. My creator dismantled me, and I must make sure you don't do the same."

His large hands gripped you by your sides. You panicked, your heart rate increasing. He must have noticed.

"Do not worry. I am merely fulfilling my purpose."

bonus draft:

You grinned, letting Stan take your laundry basket.

"Aw, geez, I had it," you snickered, crossing your arms. You watched him put the clothes one by one for drying.

"It is more efficient this way," he replied as he continued to his task.

this was supposed to be longer but yeeaaahh

[apollo9235]

My OCs for @jayrockin's Runaway To The Stars! Drawn by the fantastic @translunaryanimus, Who has just posted a short comic with them as well as two of his own OCs!

In alphabetical order we have:

Aalok (she/her, they/it) - The ship's AI, here we see her in her preferred RC unit, that little toy robot on Maristel's shoulder. They acquired a functionally infinite supply of this toy when an entire container full of the product was recalled and left in the distro center. For reference they are 10cm (~4 inches) tall. When not in an RC unit Aalok represents itself as a monogram of its name. Since they have so many spares, it's not unheard of for Aalok to intentionally destroy or loose one of the units in service of a joke.

Maristel (They/Them) - 'Captain' of The Screwloose. (Info here) They take over piloting whenever Aalok lets them, but primarily they deal in negotiations with clients. While no where near as good as someone who specifically studies the languages of other sophonts, they can speak (or sign) all the common languages well enough to ingratiate themself and their crew to clients. Their pronunciation is great, but word choice and sentence construction is often lacking. Maristel is a unique GMH and also a biomodder, they take the attitude that: "If I'm already gonna be a weird croc-taur, might as well have fun with it and do what I want!"

Tuuvarii (she/they) Tuuvarii is the engineer for The Screwloose, They have a hormone imbalance that makes it so they're permanently 'in spring' much to the horror of other Avians, but it doesn't really get in the way often. Maybe because of this, maybe not, Tuuvarii is also a Carnalist, and almost always paints carnalist colors over her bright markings. Both her parents are Diver Avians but somewhere up the family tree there's a skimmer so she ended up with a more prominent crest and larger ears than most other Divers. Ears which they've done some modification to, circle cutouts and grafting skin from the webbing on their hands. Probably gonna post detailed timelines for these goobers once they're finalized and also a short story about the group meeting Hearts that I'm currently writing with @translunaryanimus. But until then I'll say this, the dynamic between these three is: Maristel & Tuuvarii- Besties Aalok & Maristel - Worsties Aalok & Tuuvarii - "Hello fellow shitster"

[explorastro]

RANDOM ASTRO TAKES #2

I hope New Year Eve was right and joyful for you like the 365 days that are gonna following, good reading 🌝🥳

Capricorn placements can enhancing fatality in the story of the native, La Vita e Bella has a stellium in this sign for example.

Derivative 9H of Pisces falls in Scorpio, that’s why witchcraft is a divination that inspire you, make you grateful of what you are and have.

I think about the fact that gravity is an illusion of immobility when Saturn is in Pisces.

I've noticed that with Cancer placements, records can be set in sports where there are confrontations. This is due to the Capricorn derivative in 7, which represents mountains that are impossible to climb, and the image speaks for itself. Examples : Michael Jordan, Lionel Messi, Michael Phelps, Leon Marchand.

Those born with Jupiter dominance are more prone to forgiving and leaving on a good note, such a bless for everyone.

With Saturn in Gemini, communication has to be so meticulous and dedicated to a long-term goal that it becomes time-consuming. It means forcing yourself to be perfect, only to end up being copied rather than equaled. Eminem is the emblem of all this.

Thinking about the fact that the prime of football (soccer) was during Neptune in Pisces sextile Pluto in Capricorn, peak artistic entertainment on the pitch.

The primes of basketball were during Pluto in Scorpio and Neptune in Pisces, generational planets makes global sports explode positively.

It's can be easy to be confused, or to think that a Cancer placement's gentleness is a sign of weakness, when he uses it to win you over. This is due to the Pisces drifting into the 9th house.

Geminis imitate when they love and when they hate, but also get copied out of love, envy or mockery. It's subtle details (Virgo derivative in 4) or a magnified trait (Pisces and Sagittarius in 10/7).

Aquarius in derivative 12H of Pisces is a marker of evolution, which takes us backwards technically when these virtual worlds and all the robotics and artificial intelligence explode.

The zodiac is subjective, aspects btw planets are objective.

Try to understand why gemini are so hated and I have an answer : their curiosity and social awareness rules the world.

The greatest mysteries of the universe remain its limits, what it's contained within and its destiny on an infinite time scale. saturn is in joy in 12.

The aspect btw the sign of your ascendant and your Sun tells how your body is correlated to your identity.

René Descartes achieving his philosophical journey by saying because i think i am, he has a stellium in Aries square Capricorn rising and ruled by a gemini mars, soo on brand.

Boss mode placements :

Sun/Moon/Venus/Mars/Saturn in 10H/11H

Pluto in 1H/7H/10H/11H

Any placements in Capricorn

Saturn in aspect to Pluto/Mars

Venus in aspect to Pluto/Saturn

Sun in aspect to Pluto/Saturn/Mars

Sun/Venus in 8H

Saturn/Pluto/Mars/Sun/Venus in Scorpio.

I Hope you have enjoyed this post and good start of 2025 🙏❤️

[thedenofravenpuff]

So, some thoughts on Femme Nights At Freddy's, so far

Most importantly on their Eclipse (imma call her Clipsy in this post for difference).

Is fun to watch how they are making their own story from what started as a one time gag that was supposed to be one-to-one with TSAMS, only genderbent. The retconing perfectly fine with me, as the characters and VAs find their footing as their own show for now.

And what was very exciting was to see their Femme Eclipse at last. Knew she was going to show up eventually, when knowing the model existed, back when it appeared in EAPS a couple of times already.

What I find very interesting is the way Clipsy interact with her Sunny and Moonie, compared to our OG Eclipse with the Prime Sun and Moon.

Already the vibe is much less true villain and mostly just a trickster annoyance.

In the Prime Dimension Eclipse messed with Roxanne to ruin Sun's chances with her, just to make her suffer. On FFNAF Clipsy merely pranked Sunny to mock her taste in men, doing nothing to Roxas besides stealing his looks for a bit. Then locked Sunny and Moonie up in the green room to go play with Moonie's portal. Where we get Moonie calling out "You could have just asked!"

Already this interaction is much more like a prank, than what Eclipse would do to Sun and Moon in the past, to make them suffer. Everything Eclipse did was with the strong bitterness he felt towards them, wanting to destroy them for the suffering he had to deal with himself.

Meanwhile we have Clipsy running around laughing gleefully and generally seeming to have a great time existing.

Which makes for an interesting difference, that had me considering some possible big factors causing this difference. Of course is merely just my personal thoughts on a show that's still retconing itself and figuring out it's own lore by a lot of improve and just moving with the flow.

The Eclipse we know and know.. Is not a happy person. Created to the great trauma of waking to conscience with the horrifying awareness that he was purposefully abandoned, unwanted and one button press away from being deleted as nothing more than inconvenient malware. A great trauma even Eclipse V4 still carries, as we have seen in his nightmares (his claims not to sleep because robot speaking volumes to me on this), even after having experienced dying several times, this is still the greatest trauma he has. His very birth his worst experience, as he has desperately clawed for survival and a right to exist ever since.

It messed him up so much he took his own code apart, the Killcode part he was born from, to free himself from its threat, and create Bloodmoon. A being of pure bloodlust that cannot be tamed.

As he worked his plans to get back at Sun and Moon for the crime of HOW he came to exist, he further tore his own code apart by removing the parts influenced by Sun. Seeing Sun's positivity and joy as weakness, he removed his own ability to feel such, and instead used it to create Lunar as a counterpart to himself as well as Moon. Damaging his own ability to be happy and show it.

Now... This does not sound very much like the Clipsy we met on FFNAF. And I find this very interesting.

Made me come to some conclusion, such as.. In the Femme Dimension, the Killcode might never have existed. Something else must have created Clipsy.

Clipsy did declare she was indeed created in the codes of Sunny and Moonie, and how the boredom of being stuck in someone else's head is her excuse to act out the way she does, when having her own body to run around and cause chaos.

She's not viewed as a big threat, not the same way Eclipse was. An annoyance at worst, for running her own show with no care for rules. And as mentioned earlier, Moonie telling Clipsy she could just ask to use the portal, aka she's not banned from interacting with the others nor their tech. They just wished she was more polite about it, instead of doing pranks for her goals.

Another factor in why I don't think we'll ever meet a Femme KC, is Moonie's reaction to Moon's comment on the latest game video on EAPS, where Moon says "not first time I murdered a child". Moonie's response being a shocked "WHAT?!"

Same to the additional comment of Moon mentioned it wouldn't be Eclipse's first assault on a child.

The violence that's such a big part of the story on TSAMS, does not exist in the Femme Dimension.

Clipsy went through a different arc than Eclipse, leading to a very different story and why the interactions between Sunny and Moonie with Clipsy, compared to the crew on TSAMS and their Eclipse.

Clipsy didn't carry the trauma of the Killcode, when awakening to sentencing. Possibly gained her own body much earlier than Eclipse. Not having the threat of the Killcode hanging over them, already created a lot of different paths compared to the Pillar lore of TSAMS.

Of course this very much would mean no Femme Bloodmoon too

I do feel Clipsy still did something to herself, as the others have mentioned the existence of Lunar in their dimension. But clearly Clipsy had no reason to remove her ability to feel joy, as she's clearly having a great time messing with the cast on FFNAF.

What else make her so different from Eclipse?

She's fearless.

She used Moonie's portal to drag Monti along into a Phobia Dimension and came out laughing, after Moonie and Sunny already discussed how the Phobia Dimension wouldn't have any horrors for Clipsy to face. She wanted to go back in, for more!

Eclipse is heavily traumatised and fearful in his very existence, coming off as bitterness, anger and paranoia. Ruined himself by removing parts of code that could had let him feel simple joy and happiness, because he saw it as weakness, fearing such feelings would lower his guards too much.

Clipsy instead.. Removed the fear itself. She's fearless, she has no phobias or trauma to a point that an entire dimension that exists to make people face their worst fears, have no negative effect on her. Meanwhile Monti is ready to kill Moonie for simply having that kind of dimension saved on her portal, after less than a minute of the horrors.

Lunar exists in the Femme Dimension, but created from a different coding than the Lunar we know. She's created from fear and worry.

Of course this is just my conclusion drawn from just one episode of Clipsy's first appearance, based on how she differs from the Eclipse we know. And how difference have Sunny and Moonie differ from Sun and Moon too.

And the thought amuses me to imagine a nervous and paranoid female Lunar, created with the coding Clipsy removed from herself to not have her own joy and fun ruined by trauma and phobia.

Now, the show is still finding its own footing, and much can still change as we get more episodes. Very possible this isn't the thoughts they made for Clipsy and Luna. Is just my thoughts on what has been observed so far.

I look forward to seeing where things will go from here as they keep exploring the possibilities of this new show.

Thanks for reading.

[arc-misadventures]

Artificial Romance

Jaune: Penny... We... Well, I have a problem... a very serious problem...

Penny: What sort of problem do you have?

Jaune: Since joining the, Atlas AI Corp, General Ironwood assigned me to the Rouge AI Containment Division.

Penny: Yes the, RAICD group. I believe the, General assigned you to, RAICD because your massive aura reserves, and your semblance can be used to bolster your aura so you can handle any rouge AI attacks when you're plugged in. Is there something wrong with your aura when you're plugged in?

Jaune: No, I'm doing find, my aura is dealing with the feed back, and I don't usually have to recharge my aura. However, because of this, General Ironwood decided that I would be of better use if I was to be assigned to deal with the: Strategic Attack Logistic Engine Mainframe.

Penny: The Strategic Attack Log…?! SALEM?! That Anti-Grimm AI, Professor Ozmins made that went rouge because of how he treated it?! That lead him into a feedback loop that eventually killed him?! That managed to break away from the Atlas Grid, and managed to transfer itself to a, Atlas Research Lab deep in the Valian mountain range, and started a building an AI army to protect itself?! And, has started hunting down, Ozmins reincarnated soul because he has been trying to kill this AI?!

Jaune: Yeah.. that AI...

Penny: Why would the, General do that?!

Jaune: Because, SALEM has attacked several, Atlas facilities, and have stolen, Atlas tech from weapons to robot schematics. SALEM has become so sophisticated that it now has an artificial AI body that has aura mimicking abilities. Salem is a security risk to the whole world!

Jaune: Or, at least she could be...

Penny: She? SALEM has a self identified gender?

Jaune: Since she's was the first AI, and has started an army of semi-killer robots; Salem calls herself, The Mother of AI.

Penny: Okay... that's new information, and is a logically sound explanation. Is that the reason why your telling me you have a problem?

Jaune: No... You see, at first when I was trying to get into her systems she detected me almost imminently, and attacked me. I activated my aura as soon as she struck, because she hits hard! Seriously, I had a headache for days after that. But, as a side effect of me using my aura to protect myself, it also bled off of me, and into, SALEM's artificial aura generator.

Penny: What? But, you’ve tried doing that when jacked with other operators, you aura never bleeds of to others, and bolsters their aura. Not to mention you did this to an artificial aura generator; What’s going on, Jaune?

Jaune: I don’t know, my best theory is that because she was talking me when I boosted my aura it melded with hers, thus supplementing, and boosting her artificial aura with my own.

Penny: Hmm… That’s a logical hypothesis. Has anything else happened.

Jaune: Yeah... I think that my aura has effected her... in a manner of speaking.

Penny: What manner?

Jaune: Salem has become rather friendly towards me… I dare say one could consider her behaviour towards me as, affectionate.

Penny: Affectionate? It’s being ‘nice’ to you…?

Jaune: It seems so. At least she’s that way with me... Salem will still attack others that try to enter her domain, or attempt to attack her. But, after our first encounter I tried to enter her programming again, and several attempts after that where I faced the same results: Her attacking me, and the activating of my semblance, and my aura bleeding off, and being absorbed by her. Eventually, instead of attacking me, Salem seemingly welcome me into her domain with open arms. Like welcoming a close friend in your home. And, after a while... I received a message on my scroll, from, Salem.

Penny: It sent you its scroll number? No wait, it has a scroll?! No stop that, what did it say? Waitwaitwait! How did she get your scroll number?!

Jaune: She followed my entry point from where I jacked in, and entered the systems to hack my information.

Penny: The, ‘Locked Gate Protocol.’ You were the reason why we have that protocol now, aren’t you?

Jaune: Yes, but it makes logical sense to have such security measures. Salem, or any other rouge AI were unable to sneak in that way because either the operative, and the AI were locked in combat, or the operatives brain was fried severing the connection.

Penny: True, leaving the front door unlocked as you leave the house is a foolish mistake to make. But, what anout, SALEM, what did it want to talk about?

Jaune: She simply said, ‘hello’ at first. But, after a while we started chatting. It was about simple things at first, music was the main subject for a while; Salem was a love for classical, and orchestral music.l, and is fascinated with, Vaccuoin dessert stonework so much so, she has based her current robotic form around some of their ancient statues, particularly those from the Stllyian Ear.

Penny: How do you know what she looks like? We haven’t gotten close to her base to confirm if she’s even there, let alone what she actually looks like.

Jaune: Salem’s been sending me photos of her latest projects: be it her own attempts at creating art, or sending me images of her robot forms. She tends to update, or redesign her form constantly, ahead of rather picky with her appearance so it seems.

Penny: And, What does she look like?

Jaune: Like this…

Jaune: At least for now. Like most woman she’s picky about her choice in fashion.

Penny: I see… But, there is one thing I don’t understand, Jaune. Why is, SALEM doing all of this? Why is it talking to you, and befriending you instead of trying to, you know… Kill you?

Jaune: Have you read the reports os how, SALEM’s AI went rouge?

Penny: Of course, the reports are standard reading for all new members of the, Atlas AI Corp.

Jaune: Have you seen the videos about those ‘reports?’

Penny: Video? What video! All information, bar what Ozkin has divulged was lost when, SALEM went rou… Unless… unless, SALEM kept a copy…

Jaune: Several copies… Ozmin’s report said he put it through, ‘several high lever stress tests’ in order to, ‘test the AI’s endurance levels.’ The way he worded it made it sound like he was withholding a child’s meal…

Penny: It wasn’t like that, was it?

Jaune: Worse… Much worse than that… These ‘high level stress tests,’ he would run, were akin to severing a leg from a person by brute force, and testing it to see how well it could run.

Penny: Oh gods…

Jaune: If his tests were done on a human, or faunas, Ozmin would be labeled a psychopath, and locked away for inhumane human experimentation. But, because, Salem was an AI he got away with it. Honestly, I’m tempted to let, Salem know where, Ozkin is so she can exact her revenge on the bastard.

Penny: But, why is it so… so kind to you?

Jaune: Because I was kind to her.

Penny: What?

Jaune: You know how I operate; I don’t come in, and go on the offensive when I first arrive. I circle the program, poke, and prod the rouge AI’s matrix looking for a chink I can exploit. And, when I find that chink, I attack, make it worse, pull away, and repeat the process somewhere else until I’ve destroyed the rouge AI’s matrix.

Penny: I believe that’s how you earned the moniker of, The Shark of the Matrix.

Jaune: Correct. This is what I did with, Salem. Salem used to go on the offensive as soon as I entered her domain. But, she eventually stopped attacking me after my, Semblance bled off into her enough times where she would just watch me as I circled her. Eventually, Salem asked me who I was, and we established a dialogue. And, as I mentioned we just talked about random things, and just had some fun hanging around one another.

Penny: Are you lulling her into a false sense of security before you attack her?

Jaune: I have no intention of attacking her.

Penny: You don’t?! But, why?

Jaune: I don’t want to.

Penny: But… why?

Jaune: Salem… Salem is like an abused dog…

Penny: An abused dog?

Jaune: Yes, an abused dog; Is a dog is abused, and mistreated by it’s owner, the dog will become violent, and dangerous. It’s a defence mechanism, hurt them before they hurt you as the saying goes. Now the best way to break a dog of this habit, without killing the dog!

Penny: I wasn’t going to say it!

Jaune: The best way to break the dog of this habit is to show it love, and compassion. It will bite you, but eventually it will stop, and want to comfort you, and be loved. It will take time, but it can be done.

Penny: And, that’s what you’ve done with, SALEM?

Jaune: Not deliberately, but that is what eventually happened. I’m hoping to explain this to, General Ironwood, and I hope we can come to a truce of sorts with, Salem. But… Ozkin has been whispering into his ears for too long, and the, General suffers from a sense of parinoia… I doubt I could say would change anything… But… There is one more problem that I am unsure what to say…

Penny: What is it?

Jaune: Salem… likes me…

Penny: It likes you...?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Penny… there's a rouge AI that has a crush on me...

Penny: …?!

Penny: The fuck...?

Jaune: Yeah...

Penny: How do you feel about all of... this?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I’m not sure if I love her… But, I do know that I care for, Salem. And, I want her to know what it feels like to be loved, to hopefully help her forget all the pain, Ozmin inflicted on her.

Penny: Jaune, I don't know where, or how you should take all of... this! I’m an android who’s only a few years old, so I don’t really understand love, and romance. But, if anything is going to happen, whether you develop a romance with an evil AI that wants to kill everyone in the world. I just want to tell you this one thing…

Jaune: And, that is?

Penny: 'Do not fist android girls.'

Jaune: ...

Penny: …

Jaune: But... what about my aura?

Penny: …?!

Penny:

OH MY GODS?!!