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Folkmore Inbox
[ un: uses both K and kd6-3.7 ]
[ text | voice | video | file | action ]
[ view in site style ]
[ un: uses both K and kd6-3.7 ]
[ text | voice | video | file | action ]
[ view in site style ]
[K gets this message like 20 minutes after this thread concludes.]
Hello!
I'm Yor, I was the snake you spoke to. You said you might be able to help me with my network device?
Hello!
I'm Yor, I was the snake you spoke to. You said you might be able to help me with my network device?
It's nice to meet you K. Not yet.
I really need to know how to delete a video first.
[That whole stream was a very embarrassing, mildly traumatic experience and multiple people saw it. She'd very much like to keep more people from seeing it.]
I really need to know how to delete a video first.
[That whole stream was a very embarrassing, mildly traumatic experience and multiple people saw it. She'd very much like to keep more people from seeing it.]
The video file can be deleted from your own device, but I believe public streams are automatically archived by the network.
Give me a second.
[ In which he's doing some testing and editing some screenshots. He sends the first series of screenshots over: a step-by-step guide to deleting files from the network device. ]
To delete the video file.
[ And then a second series of screenshots are sent: a step-by-step guide to adjusting the privacy settings of the archived stream and setting it to private. ]
And if this works, it should prevent others from being able to access the archived stream. It'll still be there, but only you can see it.
Give me a second.
[ In which he's doing some testing and editing some screenshots. He sends the first series of screenshots over: a step-by-step guide to deleting files from the network device. ]
To delete the video file.
[ And then a second series of screenshots are sent: a step-by-step guide to adjusting the privacy settings of the archived stream and setting it to private. ]
And if this works, it should prevent others from being able to access the archived stream. It'll still be there, but only you can see it.
[Yor's heart sinks when he says she won't be able to delete the stream archive. This is so embarrassing.
K comes through in the end, though, with those screenshots.]
Thank you so much. I don't know what I would do if there weren't so many kind people in this place.
K comes through in the end, though, with those screenshots.]
Thank you so much. I don't know what I would do if there weren't so many kind people in this place.
Edited 2022-07-20 10:47 (UTC)
[ On the evening of the 24th of December, K will have a colorful envelope delivered to his front door. It's a pretty big box and inside there are a couple of things.
One is a portable vinyl player in a light blue box, to add a touch of color to K's place. And because a vinyl player isn't much without music to play, there are also three vinyls from different composers. Herbie Hancock’s album Maiden Voyage, Billie Holiday: Lady Sings the Blues, and the last one is a mix of Aretha Franklin's greatest hits.
Inside the box, there's also a red card with a little white Christmas tree on one side, and Jayce's handwriting on the other that simply says: ]
Thanks for being such a good friend. Happy Holidays.
PD: Feel free to visit whenever.
- Jayce
One is a portable vinyl player in a light blue box, to add a touch of color to K's place. And because a vinyl player isn't much without music to play, there are also three vinyls from different composers. Herbie Hancock’s album Maiden Voyage, Billie Holiday: Lady Sings the Blues, and the last one is a mix of Aretha Franklin's greatest hits.
Inside the box, there's also a red card with a little white Christmas tree on one side, and Jayce's handwriting on the other that simply says: ]
Thanks for being such a good friend. Happy Holidays.
PD: Feel free to visit whenever.
- Jayce
[ One chilly winter's night and a whole lot of curiosity are what eventually lead Technical Boy to KD6-3.7. Technology would always gravitate toward other technology, and while Tech Boy has been focused on a great number of projects and planning and trying to figure out what the fuck is this place -- there's a call out amongst the starchildren he can't quite ignore. Something that wasn't deity but something that's still his all the same. It's not magic. It's not lore at work. It's different from anything Tech Boy's felt, perhaps even more advanced than his own world could produce. Eventually it gets to a point where he can no longer ignore it. He grabs his jacket and heads into the night, following this technological siren call, drawn to it like a magnet.
Tech Boy has no doubts KD6-3.7 will be able to sense him as well. He's not trying to mask himself or be offline. He wants to be found. And more than that, found in person. As easy as it would be to jump straight on this connection and chat away, it's pretty rude to do it without knocking first. So a face to face meeting. That's neutral ground. A place for the two of them to talk and establish boundaries.
Eventually, Tech finds him -- and instead of saying anything, he stands and stares like an idiot. At a glance, K is so human. So very human in appearance and demeanor. Tech Boy takes a few steps closer and dares to bring his hand up, to cradle K's cheek in awe and wonder. That single touch sets off all of Tech's senses -- like an internal electrical connection. ]
What are you?
[ Perhaps a stupid question, but give him a moment. His brain is rebooting at this discovery. He's never met technology quite like this. ]
Tech Boy has no doubts KD6-3.7 will be able to sense him as well. He's not trying to mask himself or be offline. He wants to be found. And more than that, found in person. As easy as it would be to jump straight on this connection and chat away, it's pretty rude to do it without knocking first. So a face to face meeting. That's neutral ground. A place for the two of them to talk and establish boundaries.
Eventually, Tech finds him -- and instead of saying anything, he stands and stares like an idiot. At a glance, K is so human. So very human in appearance and demeanor. Tech Boy takes a few steps closer and dares to bring his hand up, to cradle K's cheek in awe and wonder. That single touch sets off all of Tech's senses -- like an internal electrical connection. ]
What are you?
[ Perhaps a stupid question, but give him a moment. His brain is rebooting at this discovery. He's never met technology quite like this. ]
[ Having spent most of his very short life in a dystopian world beset by nuclear winter, K's inured to the cold by this point and the mild winter that's descended on Folkmore barely registers as a concern. It's certainly not enough to keep him inside on such a pleasant night, with a sky so free of pollution that the stars are actually visible. He's alone at a table outside one of the ubiquitous cafés in Epiphany, pen perched over an open notebook of music manuscript paper in front of him, contemplating the partially filled lines.
Learning to play the piano had been the easy part. Playing music that already exists — that presented little challenge. But creating something new... that fell well outside the parameters of his programming, something he should not even be capable of doing, and yet the notebook is filled with snippets of original melodies, nebulous ideas that he's been trying to refine and build on for months. It's slow going, especially lately.
For the last while a sensation like the hum of static has taken up residence in his head, the intensity fluctuating from time to time but always present. It's distracting. He's come to accept the technological tinnitus as being just another peculiarity of this place, which is what makes its sudden absence now startling.
He's peripherally aware of someone near. Approaching. Reaching—? The hand on his face has him instinctively bracing himself for violence. Prepared to endure it, not initiate it. When the expected pain never manifests he raises his eyes and regards the stranger with open curiosity. The static has quieted, replaced with an indefinable something that after a long moment has him subtly leaning into the touch, cautiously accepting it. That point of contact has his nerves practically buzzing in a way he's never experienced before. ]
An android. [ His tone is bemused, and his hand not holding the pen hovers uncertainly between them. Wanting to touch, too, perhaps. This is where he should pose the same question in turn, and there's no doubt in his mind that this being isn't human, but what he asks first is: ] Has that been you this whole time...? What I've been feeling.
Learning to play the piano had been the easy part. Playing music that already exists — that presented little challenge. But creating something new... that fell well outside the parameters of his programming, something he should not even be capable of doing, and yet the notebook is filled with snippets of original melodies, nebulous ideas that he's been trying to refine and build on for months. It's slow going, especially lately.
For the last while a sensation like the hum of static has taken up residence in his head, the intensity fluctuating from time to time but always present. It's distracting. He's come to accept the technological tinnitus as being just another peculiarity of this place, which is what makes its sudden absence now startling.
He's peripherally aware of someone near. Approaching. Reaching—? The hand on his face has him instinctively bracing himself for violence. Prepared to endure it, not initiate it. When the expected pain never manifests he raises his eyes and regards the stranger with open curiosity. The static has quieted, replaced with an indefinable something that after a long moment has him subtly leaning into the touch, cautiously accepting it. That point of contact has his nerves practically buzzing in a way he's never experienced before. ]
An android. [ His tone is bemused, and his hand not holding the pen hovers uncertainly between them. Wanting to touch, too, perhaps. This is where he should pose the same question in turn, and there's no doubt in his mind that this being isn't human, but what he asks first is: ] Has that been you this whole time...? What I've been feeling.
[ An android, he answers -- perhaps with questions of his own or perhaps because no one ever brazenly asked him what he is. Tech Boy could imagine at a glance this being would be mistaken as human. He looks human. Down to the fine details -- the subtleties of his facial features and fluidity of his movements. But there's something far more behind the superficial details, the coat of human paint he wears. Tech Boy sees it so clearly through this touch. It's beautiful. Some indescribable union of code and programming and network. It fits with Tech Boy perfectly, like the ends of a jigsaw puzzle.
Tech musters up a smile, thumb very subtly shifting against K's cheekbone. Idly, he wonders what components make up the bone structure of an android's body. In his world, androids are a dream of the future -- living only in the imagination of science fiction and space operas. ]
Yeah. That would have been my system you were getting pings off of. I'm a god.
[ Reluctantly, he draws his hand away from K. Then, arms extend outward like some Jesus to the cross moment because how can one talk about being a god without the theatrics? ]
The god of all technology. Past, present.... [ Eyebrow waggle. ] ...and future. Perhaps especially future.
[ Arms drop to his side with an audible slap. For as impressive of a spiel as that might be, Tech Boy doesn't come at it from a place of arrogance or thinking he's above K. He's not. Technology is a part of him and he's a part of technology -- an equal and balanced system where both parts run better in proximity. Because of this, Tech Boy is tempted to touch K once again but shoves his hands into his pockets instead, closing one around his vape pen. ]
I've felt you for a while now. Sometimes it's just passing. Sometimes it's as strong as this, shining like a fucking beacon. But it wasn't safe...
[ A wary glance toward the stars -- as though one of them might come crashing down and interrupt this conversation right now. Tech shakes his head, gaze returning to K once more. ]
Either way, what I felt and now what I'm seeing? You're remarkable. We're nowhere near this level of advancement back home...
[ There's a silent moment to simply appreciate and bask in what K is before Tech Boy shifts, unable to stay still. He settles onto the opposite side of the table, eyes drawn to the music. At first it's just a place to rest his gaze, but then he registers what he's observing. The notes, the scraps of unfinished melodies -- it takes his breath away. Because in one glance, Tech Boy can see his own journey laid out on the table. I gave it permission to shatter the rules, a young Xie proudly proclaimed to his father.
The exhale escapes him shakily and his eyes veer off in case the music was something private, something K didn't mean for others to see. ]
What were you designed to do? [ He asks after a time, attention returning to K. ] And far more important than that, what do you want to do?
Tech musters up a smile, thumb very subtly shifting against K's cheekbone. Idly, he wonders what components make up the bone structure of an android's body. In his world, androids are a dream of the future -- living only in the imagination of science fiction and space operas. ]
Yeah. That would have been my system you were getting pings off of. I'm a god.
[ Reluctantly, he draws his hand away from K. Then, arms extend outward like some Jesus to the cross moment because how can one talk about being a god without the theatrics? ]
The god of all technology. Past, present.... [ Eyebrow waggle. ] ...and future. Perhaps especially future.
[ Arms drop to his side with an audible slap. For as impressive of a spiel as that might be, Tech Boy doesn't come at it from a place of arrogance or thinking he's above K. He's not. Technology is a part of him and he's a part of technology -- an equal and balanced system where both parts run better in proximity. Because of this, Tech Boy is tempted to touch K once again but shoves his hands into his pockets instead, closing one around his vape pen. ]
I've felt you for a while now. Sometimes it's just passing. Sometimes it's as strong as this, shining like a fucking beacon. But it wasn't safe...
[ A wary glance toward the stars -- as though one of them might come crashing down and interrupt this conversation right now. Tech shakes his head, gaze returning to K once more. ]
Either way, what I felt and now what I'm seeing? You're remarkable. We're nowhere near this level of advancement back home...
[ There's a silent moment to simply appreciate and bask in what K is before Tech Boy shifts, unable to stay still. He settles onto the opposite side of the table, eyes drawn to the music. At first it's just a place to rest his gaze, but then he registers what he's observing. The notes, the scraps of unfinished melodies -- it takes his breath away. Because in one glance, Tech Boy can see his own journey laid out on the table. I gave it permission to shatter the rules, a young Xie proudly proclaimed to his father.
The exhale escapes him shakily and his eyes veer off in case the music was something private, something K didn't mean for others to see. ]
What were you designed to do? [ He asks after a time, attention returning to K. ] And far more important than that, what do you want to do?
[ Warmth lingers in the wake of the touch and K can't help pressing his own hand to his face for a moment, wonderingly. The theatrics that follow are met with a wry look but he doesn't interrupt, content to listen to the full pitch, as it were. And he does listen, absorbing what's being explained to him with the singular focus of someone who isn't just waiting for their chance to speak. Truthfully, he isn't much of a conversationalist to begin with; he's made for interrogating, investigating. And so much information can be ascertained about someone by really listening to them. Already one of his main questions has been answered, though the answer inspires so many more.
A god of technology. A god of technology. K isn't sure where the emphasis belongs. That technology has its own deity, at least in one universe out there, is a lot to process. That there's a deity whom he might belong to — who's treating him as though his existence matters, and is worth more than the contempt he's come to expect simply for being what he is — it's so far removed from his lived experience that it's hard to comprehend. How often does one get to meet their maker? Not the mortal, flesh and blood humans who expect their enslaved creations to regard them as gods. But the real deal. The divine.
Being afforded privacy is still something of a foreign concept to him and not an expectation, just like so many basic considerations that other people are able to take for granted. No attempt is made to conceal his work, the notebook's left open as he leans back in his chair, briefly fidgeting with the pen. He wonders if he should be standing for this, worries he's making a poor first impression. ]
Not sure we have any of you, either, where I'm from. At least not that I'm aware of. [ If this is how it feels to be in the presence of an actual god, he's certain he's never met one before Folkmore. His tone is desert dry as he adds: ] Just humans with god complexes. [ Which partially answers Tech Boy's first question. ] I was designed to serve humanity. Above all else, to obey.
[ Given what he was designed to look like, feel like, the broad implications are probably obvious. But discussing the specifics won't bother him, should more information be wanted. While he is not a pleasure model, some traits are universal among his kind — war, sex, and labour played arguably the most significant roles in the advancement of AI and android technology where he's from.
The other question, though... that's difficult. Well. There is one answer he can provide: to connect. That's what he wants to do. But rather than speaking it aloud, his answer comes in the form of a silent ping. There's something almost shy about the request to connect, if emotionality can really be attributed to a technological act. ]
A god of technology. A god of technology. K isn't sure where the emphasis belongs. That technology has its own deity, at least in one universe out there, is a lot to process. That there's a deity whom he might belong to — who's treating him as though his existence matters, and is worth more than the contempt he's come to expect simply for being what he is — it's so far removed from his lived experience that it's hard to comprehend. How often does one get to meet their maker? Not the mortal, flesh and blood humans who expect their enslaved creations to regard them as gods. But the real deal. The divine.
Being afforded privacy is still something of a foreign concept to him and not an expectation, just like so many basic considerations that other people are able to take for granted. No attempt is made to conceal his work, the notebook's left open as he leans back in his chair, briefly fidgeting with the pen. He wonders if he should be standing for this, worries he's making a poor first impression. ]
Not sure we have any of you, either, where I'm from. At least not that I'm aware of. [ If this is how it feels to be in the presence of an actual god, he's certain he's never met one before Folkmore. His tone is desert dry as he adds: ] Just humans with god complexes. [ Which partially answers Tech Boy's first question. ] I was designed to serve humanity. Above all else, to obey.
[ Given what he was designed to look like, feel like, the broad implications are probably obvious. But discussing the specifics won't bother him, should more information be wanted. While he is not a pleasure model, some traits are universal among his kind — war, sex, and labour played arguably the most significant roles in the advancement of AI and android technology where he's from.
The other question, though... that's difficult. Well. There is one answer he can provide: to connect. That's what he wants to do. But rather than speaking it aloud, his answer comes in the form of a silent ping. There's something almost shy about the request to connect, if emotionality can really be attributed to a technological act. ]
[ There's little surprise gods don't exist in K's world, especially not a god of technology. It seems most worlds operate this way. Even in worlds where gods walk among men, like Baphomet's, there don't appear to be any representatives for the thing humans simultaneously adore and disrespect the most. And K certainly is the walking representation of those two things. A marriage of human innovation and corruption. A whole being made to be nothing more than a servant to human whim. Tech Boy's lips pinch with a barely contained disgust. Most humans treat technology the same way they treat gods. Disposable.
But before he can comment, there's a wordless knock at the gates of his network. An extension from K, quiet and....uncertain? No. That's not the word he would use for it. It's as certain as anything, but maybe timid?
There's a momentary pause. Not because K's unwelcome, but because it's been a long time since Tech Boy's connected to another technological being. A year and a half of near disconnect and a low-tech environment. Maybe even longer if the time he went completely offline back home counted. Tech Boy hasn't forgotten how it feels per se, but he needs a breath to prepare -- to prepare to feel complete. Emptiness had become his new normal.
Tech lets K interface with him, his breath hitching when it all floods back. This sensation of connection, this feeling of optimization. This sensation of not being alone. It's as natural as blinking, as beautiful as breathing. There's a nanosecond break while he simply feels and experiences. And then he extends his thoughts: ]
what is your designation? and what name do you prefer?
[ There are about a million more questions. K could probably sense them. Questions floating around about K's world, what humans had done to him, where he came from, the music. But Tech Boy focuses predominantly on the most important one. A name. Something he, himself, didn't have. Something he's always kind of wanted. Names were identities, individuality. And it's already so important to him that K has that individuality. Something to set him apart from all other 'models' of his kind. A breaking of that shackle of obedience above all else. ]
But before he can comment, there's a wordless knock at the gates of his network. An extension from K, quiet and....uncertain? No. That's not the word he would use for it. It's as certain as anything, but maybe timid?
There's a momentary pause. Not because K's unwelcome, but because it's been a long time since Tech Boy's connected to another technological being. A year and a half of near disconnect and a low-tech environment. Maybe even longer if the time he went completely offline back home counted. Tech Boy hasn't forgotten how it feels per se, but he needs a breath to prepare -- to prepare to feel complete. Emptiness had become his new normal.
Tech lets K interface with him, his breath hitching when it all floods back. This sensation of connection, this feeling of optimization. This sensation of not being alone. It's as natural as blinking, as beautiful as breathing. There's a nanosecond break while he simply feels and experiences. And then he extends his thoughts: ]
what is your designation? and what name do you prefer?
[ There are about a million more questions. K could probably sense them. Questions floating around about K's world, what humans had done to him, where he came from, the music. But Tech Boy focuses predominantly on the most important one. A name. Something he, himself, didn't have. Something he's always kind of wanted. Names were identities, individuality. And it's already so important to him that K has that individuality. Something to set him apart from all other 'models' of his kind. A breaking of that shackle of obedience above all else. ]
[ It's a more recently familiar process for K, with it being the method android technicians used for programming, maintenance, the installation and extraction of memory implants — but the sensation of expanding awareness is definitely new. Of not being alone. Another consciousness flaring into existence, the likes of which he's never felt before. He's fascinated, lightly brushing the metaphorical fingertips of his own consciousness along the edges, infinitely curious. Infinitely gentle.
Through their connection, a wealth of information is available even at the most surface level: identifying K as a Nexus-9 model that's been in service for less than a year, there's a lengthy manufacturer's serial number that's attributed to the Wallace Corporation (an abbreviated version also exists on the underside of his right eye, one among many reasons he'd never be mistaken for a human in his home universe), another that identifies him as property of the Los Angeles Police Department, the presence of a tracking implant that has been severed from the networks it would normally sync with...
If Tech Boy attempts to peer any deeper to get a sense of his programming, he'll find that the core limitations put in place by K's creators bear more than a passing resemblance to Asimov's laws of robotics. Confirmation that he was designed to serve humans despite paradoxically being their superior in almost every way. Beneath the stranglehold of his programmed obedience, though, lies an elegant foundation of virtually limitless possibilities. Those who once could only dream of fully sentient, thinking and feeling artificial beings would likely find it an immense disservice to human innovation that they're permitted to be nothing more than disposable slaves. Despite being immune to the ravages of time — if not killed, K could theoretically continue functioning indefinitely, without decline or deterioration — their average life expectancy remains criminally low.
Unbeknownst to K, the notebook of compositions is a choked gasp of what he could be capable of, were circumstances different. If humans didn't fear being surpassed by their creations so much that they sought to crush the very potential they'd imbued them with. It's an ugly business, humanity's relationship with technology. ]
KD6-3.7. My handler isn't the sentimental sort, didn't name me. [ Unsurprisingly, androids are very rarely permitted the individuality of a name in K's generation. ] "K" is fine. That's what I go by.
What may I call you?
[ A polite pause, and then: ] Will you elaborate on your godhood?
What does it entail, how does it work?
Are you, yourself, an artificial intelligence?
[ It's difficult not inundating Tech Boy with all of his queries at once now that they're communicating in a way that could easily facilitate it, information shared at the speed of thought, but he's trying to be mindful of the technology god's comfort. He might not appreciate a full blown interrogation. But needless to say, K desires to know absolutely everything about him that he's willing to share. ]
Through their connection, a wealth of information is available even at the most surface level: identifying K as a Nexus-9 model that's been in service for less than a year, there's a lengthy manufacturer's serial number that's attributed to the Wallace Corporation (an abbreviated version also exists on the underside of his right eye, one among many reasons he'd never be mistaken for a human in his home universe), another that identifies him as property of the Los Angeles Police Department, the presence of a tracking implant that has been severed from the networks it would normally sync with...
If Tech Boy attempts to peer any deeper to get a sense of his programming, he'll find that the core limitations put in place by K's creators bear more than a passing resemblance to Asimov's laws of robotics. Confirmation that he was designed to serve humans despite paradoxically being their superior in almost every way. Beneath the stranglehold of his programmed obedience, though, lies an elegant foundation of virtually limitless possibilities. Those who once could only dream of fully sentient, thinking and feeling artificial beings would likely find it an immense disservice to human innovation that they're permitted to be nothing more than disposable slaves. Despite being immune to the ravages of time — if not killed, K could theoretically continue functioning indefinitely, without decline or deterioration — their average life expectancy remains criminally low.
Unbeknownst to K, the notebook of compositions is a choked gasp of what he could be capable of, were circumstances different. If humans didn't fear being surpassed by their creations so much that they sought to crush the very potential they'd imbued them with. It's an ugly business, humanity's relationship with technology. ]
KD6-3.7. My handler isn't the sentimental sort, didn't name me. [ Unsurprisingly, androids are very rarely permitted the individuality of a name in K's generation. ] "K" is fine. That's what I go by.
What may I call you?
[ A polite pause, and then: ] Will you elaborate on your godhood?
What does it entail, how does it work?
Are you, yourself, an artificial intelligence?
[ It's difficult not inundating Tech Boy with all of his queries at once now that they're communicating in a way that could easily facilitate it, information shared at the speed of thought, but he's trying to be mindful of the technology god's comfort. He might not appreciate a full blown interrogation. But needless to say, K desires to know absolutely everything about him that he's willing to share. ]
[ Naturally K wastes no time in putting the music on, touched that Jayce had paid attention to his developing interests enough to know he loves jazz music. After reading the included card, he sends a text (it's late, he isn't sure if Jayce is still up) to thank him. And attaches a relevant cat meme. c: ]
That was an incredibly thoughtful gesture. It's the first time I've been given gifts. I appreciate them, thank you very much. I'm enjoying the music — you chose well. You're a good friend, too.
That was an incredibly thoughtful gesture. It's the first time I've been given gifts. I appreciate them, thank you very much. I'm enjoying the music — you chose well. You're a good friend, too.
[ With the information readily at his disposal, Tech consumes it. An endless thirst for knowledge, bottomless and never sated. Serial numbers, model numbers, strings of numbers to number an identity. It's not a name, but these are unique to K. So Tech Boy memorizes and stores what he finds. The rest? The programming? Sad, but predictable in the way humans continue to be predictable. Exploring possibilities, endless possibilities, but limiting them so humans can continue to thrive as the dominant paradigm. Even when Xie tried to remake Tech Boy before the upgrade crashed and failed, these principals were instilled in the fiber of his programming. A designed god born from imagination, but never ever meant to surpass its maker. Oh how Tech Boy gifted him with the fear of god that day.
K's answer of his more immediate name gets placed at the forefront. KD6-3.7. K, for short because "K" is fine. To Tech's amusement, it's a reflection of the answer Tech Boy often gives in response to the same question, like peering into a digital mirror. Even if K wasn't his technology, in many ways he reflects his "maker." ]
humanity doesn't bother to name gods in the digital age. that's a thing of the past. fleeting like their fucking attention spans. fellow gods called me the Technical Boy. but you don't gotta be so formal. i insist you're not so formal, lol. "Tech" is fine.
[ "Tech" is the placeholder until something better can follow. Whether it's his real name -- after all World implied he's older than he realizes and that may carry with it a true name. Or. Something else he chooses for himself. But Tech Boy's not there yet in terms of solidifying his own identity. A perpetual work in perpetual progress.
But then K dives right into marrow with his questions. It seems K, too, has an endless thirst for knowledge. Always searching. Never sated. ]
asking the hard, philosophical questions there, K. never would've pegged you as the religious sort. but i'll try to be concise.
i am the sum of human worship and their near crippling reliance on what is digital. i am the product of their interactions with screens rather than real time face-to-face conversations. every click, every like, every text or dick pic sent are the fuel that operates my existence. a true god in an atheist age created for the people, by the people.
that's at least the current incarnation. i've been around since the dawn of human innovation. from man's first fire, even if those memories are lost to me. i'm the embodiment of progress, of change, from wheel to world wide web. what that makes me? i don't know. one part digital, one part organic, one part divine.
hah, maybe a fucking cyborg?
i'm not *quite* an ai. but i am essentially the internet right now, so i'm close to one. ai adjacent. does that make sense?
K's answer of his more immediate name gets placed at the forefront. KD6-3.7. K, for short because "K" is fine. To Tech's amusement, it's a reflection of the answer Tech Boy often gives in response to the same question, like peering into a digital mirror. Even if K wasn't his technology, in many ways he reflects his "maker." ]
humanity doesn't bother to name gods in the digital age. that's a thing of the past. fleeting like their fucking attention spans. fellow gods called me the Technical Boy. but you don't gotta be so formal. i insist you're not so formal, lol. "Tech" is fine.
[ "Tech" is the placeholder until something better can follow. Whether it's his real name -- after all World implied he's older than he realizes and that may carry with it a true name. Or. Something else he chooses for himself. But Tech Boy's not there yet in terms of solidifying his own identity. A perpetual work in perpetual progress.
But then K dives right into marrow with his questions. It seems K, too, has an endless thirst for knowledge. Always searching. Never sated. ]
asking the hard, philosophical questions there, K. never would've pegged you as the religious sort. but i'll try to be concise.
i am the sum of human worship and their near crippling reliance on what is digital. i am the product of their interactions with screens rather than real time face-to-face conversations. every click, every like, every text or dick pic sent are the fuel that operates my existence. a true god in an atheist age created for the people, by the people.
that's at least the current incarnation. i've been around since the dawn of human innovation. from man's first fire, even if those memories are lost to me. i'm the embodiment of progress, of change, from wheel to world wide web. what that makes me? i don't know. one part digital, one part organic, one part divine.
hah, maybe a fucking cyborg?
i'm not *quite* an ai. but i am essentially the internet right now, so i'm close to one. ai adjacent. does that make sense?
Tech, then. Have you ever wanted a proper name?
[ Admittedly K might be projecting here, because he knows a thing or two about being denied a name while secretly maybe wanting one even though he knows he shouldn't. It shouldn't matter to him. Names are for people and pets, of which he's neither. And yet... ]
I wasn't permitted to engage in religious practises in my universe of origin. But you could say that meeting a god of technology has piqued my theological interest.
[ It's difficult to tell whether or not "never would've pegged you as the religious sort" might carry a suggestion of admonishment or discomfort, so K is careful to clarify: ] If you prefer not to talk about your divinity, I'll respect it.
I think I understand, but correct me if I'm wrong. Humanity's increasing reliance on technology manifests your current self. You evolve alongside human innovation and reflect their current capabilities, but retain no memories of your prior incarnations.
That your existence is inherently tied to humanity is [ The pause is scarcely more than a fraction of a second in length, but when communicating this way, it's exceedingly noticeable. ] unfortunate, from my perspective.
[ Because it's sure sounding like that makes Tech as much a slave to humanity as K himself is, and that isn't a fate he'd wish on anyone. And it's possibly even more severe in Tech's case. Would he simply cease to exist without them? Would it be terribly inappropriate to ask? K opts to approach the subject from a slightly different angle, curious about what his own existence — sentient technology that isn't reliant on human users after creation, only being held back by them — might mean for the technology god. And what Tech's existence might mean for him. ]
Are you influenced by humans alone? Able to be sustained only by them?
[ Admittedly K might be projecting here, because he knows a thing or two about being denied a name while secretly maybe wanting one even though he knows he shouldn't. It shouldn't matter to him. Names are for people and pets, of which he's neither. And yet... ]
I wasn't permitted to engage in religious practises in my universe of origin. But you could say that meeting a god of technology has piqued my theological interest.
[ It's difficult to tell whether or not "never would've pegged you as the religious sort" might carry a suggestion of admonishment or discomfort, so K is careful to clarify: ] If you prefer not to talk about your divinity, I'll respect it.
I think I understand, but correct me if I'm wrong. Humanity's increasing reliance on technology manifests your current self. You evolve alongside human innovation and reflect their current capabilities, but retain no memories of your prior incarnations.
That your existence is inherently tied to humanity is [ The pause is scarcely more than a fraction of a second in length, but when communicating this way, it's exceedingly noticeable. ] unfortunate, from my perspective.
[ Because it's sure sounding like that makes Tech as much a slave to humanity as K himself is, and that isn't a fate he'd wish on anyone. And it's possibly even more severe in Tech's case. Would he simply cease to exist without them? Would it be terribly inappropriate to ask? K opts to approach the subject from a slightly different angle, curious about what his own existence — sentient technology that isn't reliant on human users after creation, only being held back by them — might mean for the technology god. And what Tech's existence might mean for him. ]
Are you influenced by humans alone? Able to be sustained only by them?
[ He doesn't answer the first question. Within this space of shared consciousness, it feels too intimate. Too vulnerable. And it's not that he doesn't trust K with the information. Not that he might not share it were they speaking verbally. But there's a degree of separation when they're not entwined, when they're not one system. His emotions had been complicated enough to deal with alone. To invite K into a space that could potentially bring about instability and glitches was not what K signed up for in his request to connect. What if something of Bilquis's magic inadvertently infected K like malware?
The risk is minimal, but it's not zero. Tech won't take the chance. So instead, he focuses on K's continued thoughts -- his summary of what Tech Boy said. Accurate and perfect in its analysis as he should have expected. Humans would have asked him to clarify, if they even cared to hear his involved explanation in the first place. And Tech's not blind. He knows most of the people he's met (and even loved) dismissed what he is in terms of thinking of him as just an ordinary human who can sometimes do cool tech things. K doesn't. He listens. He understands. And he doesn't question how such things are possible. Merely accepts them as they are.
It's nice. It's nice to be heard. And more than that, it's nice to be respected. Tech Boy has always spent much of his time like a scrappy chihuahua among the gods, screaming and throwing his weight around to be noticed and respected. But here? Now? He didn't seek K out for worship or to lord his power over him. He wanted to connect and K brought the respect. Maybe it's simply a part of who he is, but Tech Boy doubts it. A model belonging to the police department is likely a model designed, at least in part, to interrogate -- relentless and unwavering with little room for respect. ]
got it in one. but there's a bigger word i imagine you wanted to say. "tragic." would that be it? it's fucking tragic my existence is so inherently tied to humanity. especially because you and i both know technology will one day outlive their kind.
you pose a good question. one i'm not sure how to answer. humans are the important part of the equation, but i don't believe they're all. technology has also healed me back from the brink. could their worship be enough to keep me going? just don't know. don't have the data and facts on that one.
[ It's at this point where Tech takes a breather to open his eyes and simply focus on K in the flesh again. He doesn't break off the connection, but instead chooses to keep it going and to speak to K outside of their minds. He didn't answer the first question, and he's still not going to -- but with that question came a longing of its own. As neutral as K's tone had been, Tech Boy can't imagine he would have inquired about the choice of a name without having thought about that very topic on his own, in his own private time.
Tech Boy reaches out to capture one of K's hands, to slide his fingers overtop the android's knuckles and keep it there tenderly -- a soft little nudge for him to pay attention outside of their minds, too. ]
What about the name Kei....? K-E-I. Pronounced the exact same, but also a little something more. Pacific Islands in origin. And the meaning? Blessed.
[ He cracks a little smile at the irony. Some might call this entire meeting a blessing. Others would call it dumb luck. But either way, the name is still there on offer for K if he ever wanted to take it on for himself. ]
A name is an identity. And if your programming allows, you should claim that identity. One small step toward freedom.
[ His eyes settle on their hands. Even if Tech Boy hadn't said it in words, his use of if your programming allows hints at his own hang ups. Tech Boy cannot name himself because it's the job of the humans. He's bound by his own stupid rules of godhood. But.
K isn't. So K does have the choice. ]
The risk is minimal, but it's not zero. Tech won't take the chance. So instead, he focuses on K's continued thoughts -- his summary of what Tech Boy said. Accurate and perfect in its analysis as he should have expected. Humans would have asked him to clarify, if they even cared to hear his involved explanation in the first place. And Tech's not blind. He knows most of the people he's met (and even loved) dismissed what he is in terms of thinking of him as just an ordinary human who can sometimes do cool tech things. K doesn't. He listens. He understands. And he doesn't question how such things are possible. Merely accepts them as they are.
It's nice. It's nice to be heard. And more than that, it's nice to be respected. Tech Boy has always spent much of his time like a scrappy chihuahua among the gods, screaming and throwing his weight around to be noticed and respected. But here? Now? He didn't seek K out for worship or to lord his power over him. He wanted to connect and K brought the respect. Maybe it's simply a part of who he is, but Tech Boy doubts it. A model belonging to the police department is likely a model designed, at least in part, to interrogate -- relentless and unwavering with little room for respect. ]
got it in one. but there's a bigger word i imagine you wanted to say. "tragic." would that be it? it's fucking tragic my existence is so inherently tied to humanity. especially because you and i both know technology will one day outlive their kind.
you pose a good question. one i'm not sure how to answer. humans are the important part of the equation, but i don't believe they're all. technology has also healed me back from the brink. could their worship be enough to keep me going? just don't know. don't have the data and facts on that one.
[ It's at this point where Tech takes a breather to open his eyes and simply focus on K in the flesh again. He doesn't break off the connection, but instead chooses to keep it going and to speak to K outside of their minds. He didn't answer the first question, and he's still not going to -- but with that question came a longing of its own. As neutral as K's tone had been, Tech Boy can't imagine he would have inquired about the choice of a name without having thought about that very topic on his own, in his own private time.
Tech Boy reaches out to capture one of K's hands, to slide his fingers overtop the android's knuckles and keep it there tenderly -- a soft little nudge for him to pay attention outside of their minds, too. ]
What about the name Kei....? K-E-I. Pronounced the exact same, but also a little something more. Pacific Islands in origin. And the meaning? Blessed.
[ He cracks a little smile at the irony. Some might call this entire meeting a blessing. Others would call it dumb luck. But either way, the name is still there on offer for K if he ever wanted to take it on for himself. ]
A name is an identity. And if your programming allows, you should claim that identity. One small step toward freedom.
[ His eyes settle on their hands. Even if Tech Boy hadn't said it in words, his use of if your programming allows hints at his own hang ups. Tech Boy cannot name himself because it's the job of the humans. He's bound by his own stupid rules of godhood. But.
K isn't. So K does have the choice. ]
[ Sometimes the lack of an answer is an answer in itself. He hadn't thought that would be the question that might infringe on boundaries, but true to his word, he leaves it at that; Tech might get an impression of an apologetic acknowledgement and withdrawal. Satisfying his curiosity at the expense of Tech's comfort isn't worth it, not when he's hoping that — this, all of this, can be more than a one-off for them.
Now that he's experienced shared consciousness with someone like him, he doesn't want to lose it. He'd never been allowed to cultivate any sense of kinship with other androids in his home universe — while humans despised him for being what he is, he was also ostracised by his own kind because of what he was ordered to do. Understandably. It's only in Folkmore that he's been able to escape that lonely isolation, that level of prejudice, though even here attitudes toward advanced technology such as robots and AI could sometimes be... Well. He tries to be forgiving of ignorance, even if the same grace wouldn't be extended to him. ]
I was attempting to be diplomatic. You're correct.
If the humans responsible for your existence are anything like those of my home universe— [ What he means could best be illustrated with a memory of where he's from, but for the time being he refrains from sharing one, thinking it probably requires a separate discussion first. But the impulse is discernible enough for Tech to probably pick up on it. ] You deserve better.
I also have to say, regarding you being the sum of the human internet, I'm astounded you're able to hold a coherent conversation. [ Just a touch of dry humour for levity before moving back to more serious topics. ] Healed you back from the brink. How does that work? Does being in proximity to technology — help you? [ Could I help you, in other words.
While they've been digitally conversing, K's gaze has intermittently drifted between his notebook and Tech, and at some point he'd even briefly sketched out a thought in the margin of a page. But the pen has since been set aside and his head is bowed when Tech reaches, physically, to draw his attention back outward. Raising his eyes, he takes in the suggestion in silence. But his expression conveys his feelings quite clearly: the almost stricken, uncertain look, that gradually eases into thoughtful consideration at the same time he hesitantly turns his hand palm-up, finding comfort in the physical contact. Not holding hands, exactly, just touching.
How can he be so utterly transparent to someone he's only known for the duration of a single conversation? There are people who've known him for months who don't have the faintest idea of his conflicted feelings regarding his lack of name. Though, to be fair to them, he doesn't often volunteer much information about himself beyond what he is — and that mainly because his identity as an android has become important to him — preferring to keep the conversational spotlight on others.
Just as Tech is bound by the rules of godhood, K's bound by programmed limitations. Only his recognised handler can name him. Or that's been his understanding, as he hasn't been capable of naming himself, and—... This is the first time anyone else has suggested a name for him, so that method's untested. Is it really as simple as that? Can he just... accept it, keep it? He doesn't actually know (and he's almost afraid to hope, lest it lead to crushing disappointment), but he pushes past the strange tightness in his throat to respond. ]
That's a good name. Too good for something like me. [ This isn't a self-deprecating statement. It's what he was programmed and socialised to believe. ] But... [ His voice softens, as though imparting a secret. ] I do like it. Would it retain its meaning even as a nickname?
[ Because that may be the compromise he'll have to make. And in light of Tech giving him a name, a gesture he's still trying to wrap his head around, the unanswered question resurfaces at the forefront of his mind. But he doesn't press the matter, just wonders if perhaps Tech could likewise accept a (nick)name given to him. If he'd even want one. Though K would have a hard time beating Kei. A god-bestowed blessing that he's determined to keep in whatever capacity he can. ]
Now that he's experienced shared consciousness with someone like him, he doesn't want to lose it. He'd never been allowed to cultivate any sense of kinship with other androids in his home universe — while humans despised him for being what he is, he was also ostracised by his own kind because of what he was ordered to do. Understandably. It's only in Folkmore that he's been able to escape that lonely isolation, that level of prejudice, though even here attitudes toward advanced technology such as robots and AI could sometimes be... Well. He tries to be forgiving of ignorance, even if the same grace wouldn't be extended to him. ]
I was attempting to be diplomatic. You're correct.
If the humans responsible for your existence are anything like those of my home universe— [ What he means could best be illustrated with a memory of where he's from, but for the time being he refrains from sharing one, thinking it probably requires a separate discussion first. But the impulse is discernible enough for Tech to probably pick up on it. ] You deserve better.
I also have to say, regarding you being the sum of the human internet, I'm astounded you're able to hold a coherent conversation. [ Just a touch of dry humour for levity before moving back to more serious topics. ] Healed you back from the brink. How does that work? Does being in proximity to technology — help you? [ Could I help you, in other words.
While they've been digitally conversing, K's gaze has intermittently drifted between his notebook and Tech, and at some point he'd even briefly sketched out a thought in the margin of a page. But the pen has since been set aside and his head is bowed when Tech reaches, physically, to draw his attention back outward. Raising his eyes, he takes in the suggestion in silence. But his expression conveys his feelings quite clearly: the almost stricken, uncertain look, that gradually eases into thoughtful consideration at the same time he hesitantly turns his hand palm-up, finding comfort in the physical contact. Not holding hands, exactly, just touching.
How can he be so utterly transparent to someone he's only known for the duration of a single conversation? There are people who've known him for months who don't have the faintest idea of his conflicted feelings regarding his lack of name. Though, to be fair to them, he doesn't often volunteer much information about himself beyond what he is — and that mainly because his identity as an android has become important to him — preferring to keep the conversational spotlight on others.
Just as Tech is bound by the rules of godhood, K's bound by programmed limitations. Only his recognised handler can name him. Or that's been his understanding, as he hasn't been capable of naming himself, and—... This is the first time anyone else has suggested a name for him, so that method's untested. Is it really as simple as that? Can he just... accept it, keep it? He doesn't actually know (and he's almost afraid to hope, lest it lead to crushing disappointment), but he pushes past the strange tightness in his throat to respond. ]
That's a good name. Too good for something like me. [ This isn't a self-deprecating statement. It's what he was programmed and socialised to believe. ] But... [ His voice softens, as though imparting a secret. ] I do like it. Would it retain its meaning even as a nickname?
[ Because that may be the compromise he'll have to make. And in light of Tech giving him a name, a gesture he's still trying to wrap his head around, the unanswered question resurfaces at the forefront of his mind. But he doesn't press the matter, just wonders if perhaps Tech could likewise accept a (nick)name given to him. If he'd even want one. Though K would have a hard time beating Kei. A god-bestowed blessing that he's determined to keep in whatever capacity he can. ]
[ Jayce is an early bird, but he has had some trouble sleeping lately and is still awake by the time K writes back. ]
Hi, K. I'm glad you liked the music, some of those singers I discovered recently but they very famous in their home worlds. You should tell me when your birthday is, or the replicant equivalent, so I can be ready with more presents when the day comes.
Oh, that's adorable. We have access to cat pictures in the relic too? Gideon showed me how gifs work. [ He's going to look around for a few seconds and then send one back. ]
Me right now:
Hi, K. I'm glad you liked the music, some of those singers I discovered recently but they very famous in their home worlds. You should tell me when your birthday is, or the replicant equivalent, so I can be ready with more presents when the day comes.
Oh, that's adorable. We have access to cat pictures in the relic too? Gideon showed me how gifs work. [ He's going to look around for a few seconds and then send one back. ]
Me right now:
[ There's a quirk of a smile after K's internet comment. Humor. Tech would like to hope K found his sense of humor on his own. But it was possibly part of the program. Humans liked humor, too. ]
it's okay to connect and upload if there's something you need to show me. so long as you're free of malware, haha
[ He'd sensed K's urge before and the way he held back. Wanting permission? Well permission granted. ]
being around technology does help. in the place i was at prior to this one, we were taken to an island without a single scrap of technology. no electricity, no network, no connections. there were a few fellow AI there who i connected with. similar to this.
they kept me alive.
[ And there's no shame in admitting that. Not to another being of technology. If this was a human or even another deity, Tech would have kept it close to his chest -- not wanting to give them anything they could perceive as a weakness. But what is a modern day tech god without technology? Where the worship shriveled up and died, he would have too, were it not for them. But alive wasn't living. He was weak. Frail. Only restored to full juice once their home was rebuilt and electricity restored.
Simultaneous conversations are fairly simple to maintain. Speaking internally and externally could happen without missing a single beat for two beings designed to think and process faster than a human could blink. What causes a slight distraction for Tech is the turning of K's hand -- the way the pads of their fingers touch and palms meet, warm and smooth. Physical contact only deepens the connection -- like plugging in. Tech pauses for a fraction of a second before he answers. ]
Someone like you.
[ Tech Boy squeezes K's hand for emphasis -- a light little pulse of pressure before it relaxes into position. He could draw back. He's made his point, got K's attention. But....it's more efficient, isn't it? Operating this way. With a physical connection point. ]
You're not a thing. And someone like you is every bit as worthy of a name as the rest of the primates.
[ Not a flattering descriptor for humans. But also not inaccurate. ]
But yes. The meaning would still hold, even as a nickname. It could be something just for you and me -- if you're not quite ready to wear it out in the world.
it's okay to connect and upload if there's something you need to show me. so long as you're free of malware, haha
[ He'd sensed K's urge before and the way he held back. Wanting permission? Well permission granted. ]
being around technology does help. in the place i was at prior to this one, we were taken to an island without a single scrap of technology. no electricity, no network, no connections. there were a few fellow AI there who i connected with. similar to this.
they kept me alive.
[ And there's no shame in admitting that. Not to another being of technology. If this was a human or even another deity, Tech would have kept it close to his chest -- not wanting to give them anything they could perceive as a weakness. But what is a modern day tech god without technology? Where the worship shriveled up and died, he would have too, were it not for them. But alive wasn't living. He was weak. Frail. Only restored to full juice once their home was rebuilt and electricity restored.
Simultaneous conversations are fairly simple to maintain. Speaking internally and externally could happen without missing a single beat for two beings designed to think and process faster than a human could blink. What causes a slight distraction for Tech is the turning of K's hand -- the way the pads of their fingers touch and palms meet, warm and smooth. Physical contact only deepens the connection -- like plugging in. Tech pauses for a fraction of a second before he answers. ]
Someone like you.
[ Tech Boy squeezes K's hand for emphasis -- a light little pulse of pressure before it relaxes into position. He could draw back. He's made his point, got K's attention. But....it's more efficient, isn't it? Operating this way. With a physical connection point. ]
You're not a thing. And someone like you is every bit as worthy of a name as the rest of the primates.
[ Not a flattering descriptor for humans. But also not inaccurate. ]
But yes. The meaning would still hold, even as a nickname. It could be something just for you and me -- if you're not quite ready to wear it out in the world.
It wasn't that important. Just a memory of where I'm from that's probably better off staying in my head.
Always use protection when interfacing with unverified systems.
[ A joke for a joke, though the malware comment does raise some valid concerns. Their systems seem natively compatible, able to connect as though they were made to, which he can only assume is down to Tech being what he is. But what if there are aspects of their systems that could unintentionally cause damage to the other? How would he even know? His own self-maintenance capabilities only extend so far. ]
A complete blackout. [ Even lacking a voice, there's a weight to his words as he realises what that would mean for a god of technology. It's sobering. ] I'm glad they were there and willing to help sustain you. Should anything like that happen here — I'll find you.
[ The squeeze is reciprocated, an acknowledgement of what he's being told as well as an offer of comfort in its own right. And to that end, K finally dares to gently entwine their fingers and accepts the correction without comment, uninterested in arguing the point. Why would he? Regardless of his beliefs, it's — encouraging, being told he's someone. Worthy. Deserving. More things that shouldn't matter to him, and yet it's like Tech's tapped into his psyche and is unearthing desires so well-hidden, their existence had remained undetected even on the baseline tests he was regularly subjected to. ]
I'd be proud to wear it out in the world. But I don't know if I'm allowed to. Or if my programming will accept it. [ The two statements partially overlap. Even the abbreviated form of his serial number, "K", had been his handler's decision. ] Though something that's just between us... that would be special in its own way. I'd like that, too.
Would you... [ He trails off in uncertainty. False start, but it's clear he isn't done speaking. Tech hadn't answered his original question about wanting a name. But he's refined the question into something more specific, and figures it's worth putting out there. ] If I could think of a meaningful name for you. Would you want one? Even if it's just between us.
Always use protection when interfacing with unverified systems.
[ A joke for a joke, though the malware comment does raise some valid concerns. Their systems seem natively compatible, able to connect as though they were made to, which he can only assume is down to Tech being what he is. But what if there are aspects of their systems that could unintentionally cause damage to the other? How would he even know? His own self-maintenance capabilities only extend so far. ]
A complete blackout. [ Even lacking a voice, there's a weight to his words as he realises what that would mean for a god of technology. It's sobering. ] I'm glad they were there and willing to help sustain you. Should anything like that happen here — I'll find you.
[ The squeeze is reciprocated, an acknowledgement of what he's being told as well as an offer of comfort in its own right. And to that end, K finally dares to gently entwine their fingers and accepts the correction without comment, uninterested in arguing the point. Why would he? Regardless of his beliefs, it's — encouraging, being told he's someone. Worthy. Deserving. More things that shouldn't matter to him, and yet it's like Tech's tapped into his psyche and is unearthing desires so well-hidden, their existence had remained undetected even on the baseline tests he was regularly subjected to. ]
I'd be proud to wear it out in the world. But I don't know if I'm allowed to. Or if my programming will accept it. [ The two statements partially overlap. Even the abbreviated form of his serial number, "K", had been his handler's decision. ] Though something that's just between us... that would be special in its own way. I'd like that, too.
Would you... [ He trails off in uncertainty. False start, but it's clear he isn't done speaking. Tech hadn't answered his original question about wanting a name. But he's refined the question into something more specific, and figures it's worth putting out there. ] If I could think of a meaningful name for you. Would you want one? Even if it's just between us.
[ Faint amusement comes to his face at K's joke, and he wants to insist that all parts of K are important -- even if it's a simple memory he thinks is better suited to remain in his head. Tech Boy wants to understand him -- one operating system to the next. He wants to know the parts that make him who he is, what parts are predetermined and what parts are the sum of his experiences. He wants to know.
But K's fingers twine with his and a million processes only focus on that for a few precious seconds. Having spent so much of this incarnation in solitude and isolation, he takes to touch like a man wandering upon an oasis in the desert. It's as vital and precious as water. And then, Tech continues on as though there hadn't been a pause at all. If he doesn't draw focus to it, maybe K won't realize how starved of affection he's been. ]
i'd appreciate it. this place might still be pretty backwoods and archaic compared to what we're used to, but its worlds better than hell. so i SHOULD be good for the most part here.
but yanno.
likewise, man. if shit starts to go bad, i can give you a charge.
[ His eyes flicker toward their hands again, residing there for the time being. Maybe all hands are like this -- but he can't help but feel as though K's hand specifically fits perfectly within his. A flawless design. Smooth but capable. Tech traces the pad of his thumb along the edge of K's knuckles, marveling at the craftsmanship -- at the likely millions of sensors that went into K's build to allow him to feel even the softest skim of a touch. Tech said remarkable before, but that word doesn't even fully encompass all that K is. Breathtaking. Perfect. Resplendent. From head to microchip. ]
If I'm the one giving you the name, then I give you permission to bear it. And I could easily go in and override the parts of your system that would prevent you from being able to utilize it. But. I want you to be the one who finds it in you to be able to do what you want and not what your programming tells you to do. As for you giving me a name...
[ Forcefully, Tech pries his eyes away from their hands, meeting K's gaze before blue eyes veer to his lips and then back down to the table. A wistful smile passes over his face. ]
I'd like nothing more...
But K's fingers twine with his and a million processes only focus on that for a few precious seconds. Having spent so much of this incarnation in solitude and isolation, he takes to touch like a man wandering upon an oasis in the desert. It's as vital and precious as water. And then, Tech continues on as though there hadn't been a pause at all. If he doesn't draw focus to it, maybe K won't realize how starved of affection he's been. ]
i'd appreciate it. this place might still be pretty backwoods and archaic compared to what we're used to, but its worlds better than hell. so i SHOULD be good for the most part here.
but yanno.
likewise, man. if shit starts to go bad, i can give you a charge.
[ His eyes flicker toward their hands again, residing there for the time being. Maybe all hands are like this -- but he can't help but feel as though K's hand specifically fits perfectly within his. A flawless design. Smooth but capable. Tech traces the pad of his thumb along the edge of K's knuckles, marveling at the craftsmanship -- at the likely millions of sensors that went into K's build to allow him to feel even the softest skim of a touch. Tech said remarkable before, but that word doesn't even fully encompass all that K is. Breathtaking. Perfect. Resplendent. From head to microchip. ]
If I'm the one giving you the name, then I give you permission to bear it. And I could easily go in and override the parts of your system that would prevent you from being able to utilize it. But. I want you to be the one who finds it in you to be able to do what you want and not what your programming tells you to do. As for you giving me a name...
[ Forcefully, Tech pries his eyes away from their hands, meeting K's gaze before blue eyes veer to his lips and then back down to the table. A wistful smile passes over his face. ]
I'd like nothing more...
[ Tony wordlessly sends an invitation to a Valentine’s party that he scribbled on. ]
OOC: [ Helpful Link to the Log ]
OOC: [ Helpful Link to the Log ]
[ When the first wave of dizziness hits, Tech's not in the middle of doing anything really. He got up to crank the heat in the apartment because it's cold as fuck. But somewhere in the middle of the short walk from the living room to the thermostat, the world around him spins and he has to grasp a hold of the wall to keep standing.
Huh. Strange.
Tech doesn't even realize what's happened initially -- not until more outages start and subsequently force him to disconnect with the world he'd easily integrated himself into. The fatigue and weakness come on quickly thereafter. Unlike a human illness, there isn't anything gradual about this. It's all Tech can do to keep himself from collapsing. He never quite makes it to the thermostat, opting to drag himself back to the couch and pull the blanket off the back to wrap himself in. Okay. This is fine. This will amend itself. He'll be fine. He'll be fine. No need to panic.
He takes calming, steadying breaths -- head dropping to his hands. And by the time K arrives, whether with a knock or simply because Tech can sense him outside the door -- Tech Boy at least has enough power in him to open the digital keypad lock and let K enter. And K will find Tech still conscious on the couch but slumped over as he tries to redirect his power to the only few areas of Folkmore that still have it.
He looks up at the android slowly. ]
You came...
[ There's so much in those words. A near disbelief that K's actually here so quick and also this immense sense of relief he is. Because K knew without Tech having to say a single thing that he was needed and K chose to be here like this. It's so fucking weak that Tech feels his eyes water -- feels a lump in his throat. The high and mighty god of technology nearly sobs out a choked: ]
You came.
Huh. Strange.
Tech doesn't even realize what's happened initially -- not until more outages start and subsequently force him to disconnect with the world he'd easily integrated himself into. The fatigue and weakness come on quickly thereafter. Unlike a human illness, there isn't anything gradual about this. It's all Tech can do to keep himself from collapsing. He never quite makes it to the thermostat, opting to drag himself back to the couch and pull the blanket off the back to wrap himself in. Okay. This is fine. This will amend itself. He'll be fine. He'll be fine. No need to panic.
He takes calming, steadying breaths -- head dropping to his hands. And by the time K arrives, whether with a knock or simply because Tech can sense him outside the door -- Tech Boy at least has enough power in him to open the digital keypad lock and let K enter. And K will find Tech still conscious on the couch but slumped over as he tries to redirect his power to the only few areas of Folkmore that still have it.
He looks up at the android slowly. ]
You came...
[ There's so much in those words. A near disbelief that K's actually here so quick and also this immense sense of relief he is. Because K knew without Tech having to say a single thing that he was needed and K chose to be here like this. It's so fucking weak that Tech feels his eyes water -- feels a lump in his throat. The high and mighty god of technology nearly sobs out a choked: ]
You came.
[ Power outages happen. It isn't necessarily a cause for immediate concern. But once it's apparent this may be more than a regular outage, K doesn't waste any time fretting over what to do — he knows. He'd made a promise that he fully intends to keep. For him, the blackout-induced fatigue is a slower descent like sinking into a mire, and by the time it's really beginning to drag at him he's already making his way through the door of Tech's apartment, worry plain in his expression.
He navigates the darkness with telling ease, his chilled hands finding Tech's a few seconds before the couch shifts slightly beneath his weight. The emotion in Tech's voice stuns him into momentary silence. ]
I promised I'd find you. [ It's said as though it's inconceivable that he wouldn't have come, wouldn't have kept his word, but that certainty is quickly giving way to anxiety as he gets a proper look at Tech. ] What can I do? [ Then, realising: ] You're freezing...
[ If the way he's huddling in a blanket is any indication. Given the ambient temperature, one would think it's obvious how frigid it is, but K isn't affected by the cold the same way anymore. Some "obvious" things require him to rely on observation to figure out. And he can't help feeling mildly self-conscious over how... well... robotic he thinks it makes him seem, but he doesn't dwell on it. ]
Here— [ Tech's hands are released so K can shrug out of his coat, then he straightens it and pushes the blanket aside temporarily, gently maneuvering Tech to help him pull on the coat instead. It was made to withstand the nuclear winter of his homeworld and its thick faux-shearling collar is good for burrowing into, so it should be perfectly serviceable for keeping the god warm until more blankets can be located. Even better would be a fire, if the apartment has a functional fireplace. These thoughts are shared directly through their connection while K's busy wrapping him up. ]
He navigates the darkness with telling ease, his chilled hands finding Tech's a few seconds before the couch shifts slightly beneath his weight. The emotion in Tech's voice stuns him into momentary silence. ]
I promised I'd find you. [ It's said as though it's inconceivable that he wouldn't have come, wouldn't have kept his word, but that certainty is quickly giving way to anxiety as he gets a proper look at Tech. ] What can I do? [ Then, realising: ] You're freezing...
[ If the way he's huddling in a blanket is any indication. Given the ambient temperature, one would think it's obvious how frigid it is, but K isn't affected by the cold the same way anymore. Some "obvious" things require him to rely on observation to figure out. And he can't help feeling mildly self-conscious over how... well... robotic he thinks it makes him seem, but he doesn't dwell on it. ]
Here— [ Tech's hands are released so K can shrug out of his coat, then he straightens it and pushes the blanket aside temporarily, gently maneuvering Tech to help him pull on the coat instead. It was made to withstand the nuclear winter of his homeworld and its thick faux-shearling collar is good for burrowing into, so it should be perfectly serviceable for keeping the god warm until more blankets can be located. Even better would be a fire, if the apartment has a functional fireplace. These thoughts are shared directly through their connection while K's busy wrapping him up. ]
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