NOT just A ROBOT shipping meme

There's always a right tool for the job, be it as simple as a hammer for a nail or on up to the much, much more complex. In this, the near future, the new tool for the abstract, post-modern job is no longer from the humble tool box - it's robots. Robots have taken over most sectors, such as assembly, law enforcement, and even health care. Things run so much smoother when they're automated. Yet the most impressive factor is that robots have just recently begun to enter a sector previously believed to require human touch: the personal sector. From personal assistants to robo bodyguards to pleasurebots, most anyone who's anyone has a personal robot these days. Of course, humanity being the narcissistic charmers we are, all "companion" sector robots are made in our own beautiful image, or close to it.
But you know this. You have a personal robot, after all...or you are one.
Whether owner or robot, it's important to remember one key rule: robots, no matter how human they appear, cannot feel emotions. Any appearances thereof are programming in the AI.
Robots certainly, absolutely, cannot fall in love. Again, any appearances thereof are programming in the AI. If that's not the case, and "love" still seems present...
...well, a toll that no longer functions correctly may not be right for the job.
HOW TO PLAY ➟
- Comment with your character, preference, and whether you want to play a human or a robot.
- Reply to others.
- Use the RNG to choose a prompt or pick one yourself.
OWNER ➟
- Long Time Owner → You and your robot are a well-oiled machine, no pun intended.
- New Purchase → Congratulations, you have your brand new personal bot!
- Second Hand → Someone else owned this robot before you, but it can't be too damaged. There's no way you could afford a brand new one, anyway.
- For Science! → Your interests in robots are purely scientific. No matter how yours begins to act towards you, honest!
- Rescue → Whether you took them from the dump or from a bad owner, you brought this robot from the jaws of deletion.
- Reluctant → You never wanted a robot, but you've got one thrust on you anyway.
- Cruel → They're just a fancy computer, so you'll treat them however you like.
- See the Humanity → Even if you know it's all machinery and programming, you can't help but see the human side of your robot. They shouldn't have to be a servant.
- What's Real and What's Not → The lines are beginning to blur between real people and their emotions and your robot.
- Incompatible → You can't be with a machine, either romantically or sexually. You're simply not compatible.
- Too Engrossed → They say you've created a fantasy world. You're forgetting reality, or choosing to ignore it.
- Don't Care → You won't listen to what the others say; you know how you feel.
- Have to Pull Away → The close relationship you had with your robot has to be put aside for your own good.
- Live a Normal Life → As much as you can, you and your robot live like a normal couple.
- Bad End → Your robot is taken away, reprogrammed, or destroyed.
ROBOT ➟
- The Perfect Robot → You know what you and exactly what you were made to do. You will not stray.
- More Human than Human → Whoever programmed you made you to be just like a human.
- Conflicted → There is no way you could have what they call "feelings." But what is this stirring in your circuitry?
- Confused → Why do people treat you like a robot? You're a living thing, damn it!
- Damaged → Somehow, you've been corrupted. You're a blank slate and have to be cared for, though it should be the opposite. Or it could be that you're showing erratic behavior that no robot should...
- Shown Kindness → When you're treated kindly by a human, you are unsure how to process it. It makes you feel - content.
- No Longer Just a Program → Your "love" and "affection" may have been shades and imitations at first, but that's not the case any longer.
- Obsolete Model → You know you're old. Will you be forced to leave your master's side?
- Jealousy → A robot should not feel jealous. Still, you envy those close to your master.
- Job is Personal → You were programmed to protect or to serve, though you also do it because you...care
- Second Chance → Your old master tossed you aside and now you are wary. But you've been given another chance instead of being used for scrap.
- Rogue → There is no way you will be tied to the oppressive system. You refuse to serve the Living Things. Somehow, though, you've become aligned with one.
- One of a Kind → There are no other robots like you, and perhaps you are intended for a sinister fate. Rather than face your true duty, you have escaped to take refuge with a human.
- Specialty → You were created specifically for this one special person.
- Reprogrammed → Because of previous defects, you were taken back to factory settings before. However, that treacherous virus, "love," is bubbling back up.
- Android → You can't just forget the part of you that was - still is - organic.
- Learn to Be Human → Despite the odds and the prejudices you both will face, you have decided to live as a free, living person with the one you care for most.
- Bad End → You're to be junked, impacted, wiped clean, or taken away from your owner.
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[ The lie isn’t a complete one, which makes it easier to fall from Helen Cho’s lips as she addresses her lab assistant. Just this morning, a representative from Typhonix United had placed a call to her office to leave a simple message that the board of directors needed a return on investment in the form of their asset. A year, the woman on the phone had crisply stated, was enough time for development and given what they'd seen in Dr. Cho's logs, they had the highest faith that her work would be satisfactory.
For what it's worth, the logs she'd sent in as weekly reports have been promising - and only a snapshot of what she's created. There's no coincidence that her employers are just as much by what they see as what they don't, namely the burgeoning freedom she's been encouraging in Designation 031017 since nearly the beginning.
Bucky. They've called it - him - that just as long, at the insistence of her assistant who'd griped that something with a face, machine or no, ought to have a name. A winsome American she'd plucked up during his grad school days, her assistant's been with her on three projects now. There's no use in changing staff now, he knows how she works. She prefers it that way, prefers ordered routine. Until Bucky.
While she hardly can believe in the alternative, another kernel that has to be more than coincidence: her own creation had tilted so much of her perception. Of her. Of him.
Of what she's doing here.
Her assistant frowns. He knows her. He knows how she works, that she doesn't cut corners. But he bites back his comment on the sudden shift in objective and keeps his thoughts on her slightly disheveled appearance to herself.
After she gives him a nod of dismissal, she places her hand on the sensor that triggers the glass door between the lab proper and the examination room. Once, this was intended to be Bucky's housing. Months ago, he'd earned proper rooms down the hall. ]
We don't have much time. I can't explain everything to you, but I want you to know that I'll keep you safe.
[ No traditional greeting. No softened smile upon seeing him. No coincidence, just as there's none in the hurried way she'd thrown her white coat over her shoulders and not even attempted to cover the dark pools welled under her eyelids or the red darting in her sclera.
Last night, she'd found out the true genesis of "Typhonix United" and how far the entity once known as HYDRA had buried its head underground. Today, they want unprecedented investment.
There are no coincidences. ]
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ca·su·al
adjective
relaxed and unconcerned.
The Asset is not made to be casual. Bucky has become casual. He's given to understand his eventual owners won't like it. He's not meant to have opinions on that. He has six.
Helen enters the room abruptly, and the customary smile he wears disappears immediately at her change in behavioral pattern; no greeting, displaced hair and clothing, unusual cadence in her voice. Cognitive analysis uncertain; he is no longer casual.
He sits up straight. ]
That's supposed to be my functionality.
[ He points out, eyes narrowing suspiciously like he's trying to parse through the puzzle. Combat is his primary motive, not hers. If one of them is meant to keep the other safe, logic would dictate it would be him. ]
Something's about to happen.
[ It's an observation, not a question. ]
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[ More than not owning a weapon, Helen's never so much as held one (aside from him, for in the loosest sense, that's what he is and how could she not have realized where that would lead?) nor had the desire to do so. And here she is, grappling with the reality of fight or flight, that primal struggle that drives all - (most) - life.
Flight is the primary, ideal option.
She doesn't have the luxury to look at him, instead turning to rifle through a touch screen computer that holds the files she constantly tinkers away at during their normal interviews. ]
They want you today, no negotiations possible. No delivery, even, they'll come here to get you. They -
[ While Helen might not be at this juncture the image of perfect utilitarianism she strives for in her professional life, she's managed to keep herself on an even keen. She pulls from her pocket a red flash drive, plugging it artlessly into the console before she can begin rooting through her notes, videos, all the history of the Asset project.
For the first time, her voice truly wavers, though she's quick to compose herself. ]
I've made a miscalculation, Bucky. This whole time, we've been working for the wrong people.
[ Her gaze falls to him again before darting towards the doors to the hallway. ]