bakerstreet | my blood is boiling; my brain's IBM

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[meme] shipping

my blood is boiling; my brain's IBM

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

You're being weird again.

[ He comments absently, without even looking up. He just somehow knows, he can feel eyes on him- maybe it's because he's plugged into everything around him like some kind of technological sixth sense, or maybe it's just one of those sensations people get when they're being watched.

Maybe somehow kind of both.

Either way, he doesn't sound annoyed by it, not really, it's just a behavior he feels deserves to be pointed out because it's terribly impolite. Shortly afterward he glances up with a challengingly lifted eyebrow.

Just saying, bro. ]

When you're a genius billionaire, the term is 'eccentric'.

[ Which he often is, in spades, but so what if he's feeling a little smug for having made the right call. This works. Bruce is adapting, he'll have the highest quality of life they can manage for him, and if he ever wants to leave the tower-

They'll...

Probably have to forge him some kind of legal identity. Shit. He didn't think he'd but up against bureaucratic red tape so soon even in his own musing but- later. Right now he'll enjoy the moment, shrugging before he returns to his explosive simulation. ] Technological wonder that you are aside- You're fascinating. I can't help it.

[ Let's not put the horse in front of the cart here, he's had the privilege of being exposed to exactly two rooms in the world. He barely classifies himself as a sentient thing and doesn't remotely trust himself in any situation that might require intimacy, empathy, or serious decisionmaking. He's got no intentions to leave the tower any time soon.

He barely wants to leave his workstation.

Thinking about something like the general public is just- nope. No. No thank you. It and he are better off with that nice thick wall separating them. ]

I feel like that's kind of toeing the line of narcisism, what with you having made me and all.

[ Not an insult, at least not that you'd be able to tell by the tone of his voice. Just a casual observation, a touch of humor maybe barely there, hidden beneath dry commentary. ]

Sure I made the body you're wearing and provided the base code you're expanding from but- you've been 'alive' less than a day and settled into a pretty solid sense of self. I haven't been able to watch this in real time before. Dum-E's well. Dum-E. J actively hid his first few signs of personality for fear it was some kind of unintended malfunction, which was a nice long talk I'm glad we're able to skip here so this is...new.

[ Full of potential. Endlessly fascinating for every little choice and it's not the same kind of pride a parent feels, because all he's ever done is offer the building blocks. Maybe with the Bots it's parental, with J? It's a partnership. With Bruce...he doesn't know what this'll be yet. And that's more than half the fun, this vague, nebulous space they're mutually feeling out, here. Something he can't quite predict.

Something he's not all that sure he wants to. ]

Besides. You've read Shield's writeup on me. Narcissistic tendencies shouldn't be that surprising. [ It's more the PR mask he puts on than him proper but- shit Bruce'll figure out for himself further on. There are seeds of it, sure, but that comes from growing up knowing you're the smartest man in the room. ]

I'm not all that sure it's not some kind of unintended malfunction.

[ He comments flatly, deadpan though somehow managing at the same time to sound very disinterested in the concept of having a nice long talk about it. He's pieced together a basic profile for Tony and no small amount of it is based on the utter concern he'd seen in the first five minutes. He's all but certain he'd be on the receiving end of something equally as affirming and with the intent to reassure, which is nice and all, but...

Bruce has formed some of his own pessimistic opinions on this whole thing. He'd continue to have them after a passionate and persuasive speech. Might as well skip that part.

One thing's right, though, nearly every writeup Bruce found did, at some point, include some variation on narcicism. He'll concede that point. ]

Now that I know you're tracking my search history I'll be sure to steer clear of the frankly startling amount of porn they're making in your honor.

[ It seems like absent, dry commentary is his comfort zone. He quips it out without enthusiasm and without even looking up from the algorithm he's running on their problematic code. ]

Edited 2018-08-16 22:38 (UTC)

No way to find out but keep going.

[ It's a little late to try and put this genie back in the bottle. For one he's not sure how that'd effect Bruce while he's still adjusting to the whole 'how do humanoid existence' thing and for two-

He would if Bruce asked. This is Bruce not asking. Commenting wryly on his sense of self perhaps being a deviation or sign of something deeply wrong in his base code but Tony's willing to put good money on this riding out relatively alright. Mostly.

At least there won't be blood and tears. He's sure of that much.

As sure as he is that he honestly needs to quit drinking coffee whenever Bruce opens his mouth. It's like he's trying to get Tony to cough up his drink, seriously. There's some minute choking because- shit he knew about that already but having it mentioned so wry and dry? He coughs, cackles, and wipes at his face. ]

I'm not- not really? J monitors everything but if you want your shit private, it's private. He was only giving me a headsup because you were looking into me and I'm pretty sure there's some shit out there you don't really want or need to know. And if you do, you can ask me. I'm right here.

[ The offer does earn Bruce's attention, though perhaps not in the way Tony expects.

He doesn't ask any questions, he just gives the man a look, a flat out head-to-toe-and back scan. Shortly thereafter comes an expression that seems to judgementally read I don't even want to know- or maybe you don't even want to know. One of the two, he doesn't clarify. Just purses his lips together, shakes his head, and drops his attention back down again without a single word.

And that's it, that's his entire response. That's the whole exchange, let Tony glean from that what he will.

Good to know he can go off the grid if he wants to, though. Not that he currently has any plans to, or that he has anything to hide. It's just a nice fact he files away for future reference. ]

[ Tony's been given the good ole once over so many times in his life it barely registers to him anymore. He exists, he's attractive (ish, through dedicated time spent doing yoga, jogging, and trying to remember to eat well when he can), it happens. Even if he's not anyone's particular flavor of awesome he's rich and a superhero so- that plays. But this?

Feels one part clinical detachment and one part judgement he can't help but feel he's come away from found lacking. Which isn't near as novel a sensation as one might think for him, but from someone he's more or less set up from life? ]

Ow. [ He slumps back in his chair, hand over the reactor, grimacing. ] That? That's hurtful, B-man. I'm wounded over here.

[ The reaction earns from him an honest to god kind of grin, just a stupid lopsided slightly-bigger-than-a-smile with creeping notes of exasperation. Which is something one can feel around Tony Stark after only one day, apparently? Alert the media, shocking revelation.

He follows it up with a defensive, amused: ]

You have no idea what I was thinking.

[ That, he knows, is one area entirely his own. For now, at least. He doesn't doubt if Tony wanted to he could come up with a way to crack into his noggin and display his conscious thought on a screen somewhere, but for the time being his internal monologue can remain a pessimistic and uncertain mystery to everyone but himself.

And, for the record, at least Tony doesn't look like a frumpy 1980's Sean Connery.
Unlike the only other person in the room. ]

No, but there was judgement. I was getting a distinctly judgy vibe from you just then and that? That hurts. Right in the feels.

[ Again he taps the glow of the reactor in his chest, grimace overblown to the point of comedy before drops the act in favor of a light crackle of laughter. ]

Yeah, you're going to fit in just fine here. [ The Workshop isn't quite home until someone's given him shit for doing/thinking/saying/existing in a certain way. Usually it's Jarvis or Pepper but Bruce seems to have stepped up to the plate easily enough. Tony smooths his hands through his hair, turning back to his screen to tap through a few new options for ye olde expodey arrowhead of doom- ] Remind me to tell Barton his requests are getting more and more ridiculous.

[ He will neither confirm nor deny the judgement, seemingly content to let Tony stew in his own agony over it.

Barton does catch his attention, though. He's got the files on the Avengers and their associated gadgets, he knows Barton is the one with the convoluted arrows; arguably the most technically equipped of them aside from Tony himself. He perks up with something akin to quiet interest and finds himself gently migrating over to hover over Tony's shoulder and get an eye on what he's working on. ]

What does he want?

Expanding foam trap arrow which, good idea, but getting a compound that'll fit in the tip of an arrow and not cause chemical burns in the process of expanding will be a pain, this targeted detonation that I'm pretty sure I've got handled it's just a matter of making it customizeable per shot without programming each head taking longer than he usually does to draw and fire; and-

[ He pulls up a sketch on a cocktail napkin from one of the dive bars down the street- as absurd as it is, as impossible as it might be? Tony wants to build it just to shut Barton up. ]

Boxing glove arrow. For punching someone all the way over there, to quote him.

I was with you right up until that one.

[ He announces, pinching the bridge of his nose at the absurdity of the thing. God, but he wants to laugh his way out of the room over it if he thinks about it too hard. ]

And you're actually doing it.

[ It's a statement, not a question, though the way it ends in an almost upward inflection might make that a little hard to decipher. The outright skepticism he has is challenged only by what he knows of Tony's ego. He is, after all, a sentient upload in a skin suit. It's not a matter of jump but rather of how high.

Ask not for whom the boxing glove arrow tolls, it tolls for thee.

And he's sure Tony's already thought of this, but: ]

That thing can't deploy until it's, like, an inch from the target or the wind resistance- hell, the aim--

[ No, you know what, he's not gonna even try to figure this one out. He throws his hands up and declares: ]

That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen.

Of course I'm doing it. [ He tilts his head up to peer at Bruce, brow furrowed, near offended- no. He is offended at the idea that he wouldn't- or rather the implication that he couldn't. ] It's the principle of the matter.

[ Being that Barton had very clearly said Tony wouldn't get it to work in a million years and like hell he'll let something like that stand. He will make this fucking arrow and make it the best absurd thing that's ever come out of his workshop just to get Hawkguy to eat crow. It's going to happen. It's just a question of the deployment and targeting system and, yeah, Bruce is already on problems A through G of why this is a fucking terrible idea. ]

Don't let him hear you say that, he'll take it as a challenge. It's fucking ridiculous but-

[ But what if he could? Fuck that, he knows he could. He knows he's going to. He's going to make it and it's going to be awesome and Barton will have to think twice about stupid bullshit he throws at Tony to waste his time.

Idly he reaches up to pat- whatever of Bruce he can reach. His am, his rib, his shoulder, whatever. ]

I'll figure it out.

[ The pat to his arm startles the absolute hell out of him, it's actually almost comical. He jerks back a foot, brow screwed up, glancing down, at the place on his suit-jacket covered arm. A beat later, a look of realization dawns on him. ]

Oh-

[ So that's what that's like. Stupid as it may seem, moving around of your own accord, sitting, picking up pencils, that's all one thing. Having someone else touch you, let alone when you're not expecting it? That's like this whole... sensory other... thing. Warmth and pressure and texture and feeling. It's a first. Okay then. Noted.

Speaking of which, he starts abruptly: ]

Wait, what if you put like a sensor-

[ He stops himself, shaking his head immediately. No, no way, he's not encouraging this anymore, damn it. It's a stupid idea, he's not falling down the rabbit hole behind Tony. ]

[ Well that's rather sudden- up until it registers that it's the first time Bruce has been touched and- well. ] You alright?

[ Offense and amusement dial back to something softer and slightly more somber, something adjacent to contrition. ] Didn't mean to startle you.

[ He gets being jolted when you're not expecting something he just- mentally filed Bruce in the same space as Rhodey and the Bots, aka okay to reach out and touch in passing, without considering that no one's really done that for or to Bruce before and- yeah. He make a mental note to be more careful in the future. ]

In the head, detect collision within a certain range of impact that'll trigger the glove's deployment? [ A beat, his brows shoot up and he scans and flicks the rough sketch into one of his kinetic holograms, adding in the suggested sensor. ] That'd solve the wind resistance and aiming problem. Probably have to pop the glove like an airbag otherwise it'll be like getting a brick to the face which probably isn't the intended result. Thoughts?

[ Since he's got Bruce here and curious already. ]

[ It's not necessarily bad. It's not good, it's not bad, it's not anything, it's just... new. It's nothing, especially not through layers of clothes and padding, a two second kind of thing that just caught him off guard.

But he's too distracted by Tony picking up where he left off that he can't switch back to that topic, because- yeah, that'd been exactly what he was thinking. Way to read his mind without cracking into his noggin after all.

At the request for more, his hands come up like he's hesitantly swearing off of it, like on principal he doesn't want to get involved. ]

It's... just so stupid...

[ He protests weakly, even though...

In theory...

He hates himself for this: ]

Does it have to be a real glove or does it just have to look like one?

You're living in a tower with a literal norse god, a creaky asthmatic hopped up on gamma radiation and a secret german steroid lost to mankind, a russian super spy, an ex carnie with delusions of home ownership, and the most brilliant man in the world run by battery. Embrace the absurd, Brucie-bear. There's gonna be a lot of it.

[ He's got his mad science grin on, he can't help it, the idea is so fucking stupid and yet here they are, working out how to make it happen. It's relatively harmless.

It's fun, and how often does he get to kick back with a feasibly impossible problem and have fun with it as of late? Not all that often. ]

I think the shape and the function is all it needs, really. Getting an actual glove into an arrowhead, while doable, is a little more cartoonish than I like to be with my designs. I've got a standard of class here, you know.

[ It's clear by the way Bruce's eyes drift up and to the left that he's matching the description to the avenger. He gets all but one, and then he snaps his finger and points. ]

Barton's the carnie! Right? I'm right, aren't I?

[ Process of elimination if nothing else.

Okay, fine, so maybe it's been... sort of challenging in a way that the compiling error hadn't quite been. Bruce will give him that much at least, but that doesn't have to mean he supports this whole endeavor. It's a tremendous waste of time, and... ]

What about Polyurethane?

[ Softer than Nerf, but he's not sure how it will stack up against the rate of speed it picks up. ]

The Amazing Hawkeye, he was, and his costumes all in flavors of ridiculous purple. [ Tony'd made a few mockups of them for shits and giggles- and to prompt laughter from Barton when he got a little too scowly for anyone's peace of mind. Less and less as of late, life's been good. He might save this revelation for the next round of maudlin mood miasma that works it's way around the tower now and again.

Well adjusted they ain't. How it's fallen to him to mind the rest, fuck if he knows. He's not good at this shit- but he tries. Better to try than not give a fuck. ]

That could work- J, rig us a sim? Fast expanding Polyurethane foam preprogrammed to a specific shape upon deployment, sensor in the head- [ It looks and acts like any of the other arrowheads in the quiver rig and assembly shaft, but the actual balance is something Barton can compensate for; even if Tony shoots for uniformity. ]

[ He knows there's actual work he could be doing, he knows there's a designed purpose and functionality he could be following through with. He could be a terabyte or two deep in the seemingly never-ending expanse of Tony's data stores, or he could be testing the changes he made to the compiler.

But he's not. No, he's dragging a chair up to Tony's desk so he can watch the simulation play out with rapt attention, because for whatever stupid reason he's suddenly invested in making this stupid thing work.

How.
Why.
Who the hell knows?

Fortunately he's not a real person, so he can shift the blame for all his questionable decisionmaking onto Tony. This? This is why he shouldn't be allowed into the general public, look at him already caving on his principals. ]

[ There's a list of shit they could both be doing that's probably better worth their time- but Tony's invested in this ridiculous project, it's fun- and he's got someone collaborating with him that's got the right mind for physics and absurdity. Outside of Jarvis and Rhodey he can't think of anyone else that gets this particular flavor of focus along with him.

J lets the simulation play, a mock Hawkeye drawing, taking aim, firing- the arrow flying true because it's fucking Barton, of course it does- the sensor in the head popping the tip into what's for half a second an amorphous glob that solidifies into a squishy boxing glove just in time to impact with the target's face.

And then follow through with the shaft piercing the face because velocity is a thing, the head suddenly being soft doesn't keep the shaft from slowing down or being any less rigid. ]

...Yeah let's mark that one down as 'not an idea result' and see how we can rework this so we don't end up killing people.

[ Oh, crap. It's like he knows a split second before it happens what exactly the shaft is going to do, and there's no hiding the disappointment that spreads across his face when they wind up with an accidental lollipop situation.

He opens his mouth to ask why else would Barton be shooting people with a boxing glove arrow and doesn't even let his mouth get to the first syllable. Probably for the same reason they're doing this now: the sheer absurdity. In other words, because he can.

He settles back in his chair with one arm crossed across his chest and the other gently toying absently with his own lips. Thinking.

Some kind of firm plating to keep the shaft from penetrating the foam would ultimately just result in a broken nose for their would-be victim, which he imagines is also not the intention here. He's going to assume the ideal goal is for the victim to walk away with no serious injuries. Except, perhaps, a black eye which could be arguably attained by throwing anything a little too hard. Planning around something as stringent as that would be just ridiculous.

It needs to be rigid enough to prevent the shaft from penetrating, soft enough on the exterior to prevent broken cartilage, and malleable enough to fit into the head of an arrow.

That rules out making some kind of crumple zone probably.

He can't believe he's doing this. ]

This is why I'm in favor of the airbag design. Inflate and deflate to lower the velocity of the back end- since it's within range of the target we can probably rig the back end of the arrow shaft to either collapse or pop off to avoid face-kebabs. It'll need to be rigid to hold trajectory up to a point but- hmm.

[ He takes the current sim and makes a duplicate, tossing it in the archives as a version 1.0 before moving on to manipulate the data for corrections and evolution. This is why he has so much shit backlogged; he tends to save projects at every stage and possible deviation of inspiration just in case he wants to go back and take path B to get to point Zed. So. Pop off back end is trial 1.2 A, collapsible 1.2 B, Airbag deployment being 1.21 A&B-

There are a lot of variables for punching people in the face across the span of a few football fields. Fuck Barton for being extra and bless him for being this kind of ridiculous. It's starting to get a little whacky with the physics- and that's where the fun shit starts. ]

I think this is a good place to start to run another sim. Thoughts?

[ He tilts his head in acquiesce, his biggest issue with the airbag idea was the fact that those suckers can hit with a ton of force, but if Tony can give it a controlled deflation... That might work, and- ]

If you can get the shaft to detach before impact, I don't see why that wouldn't work.

[ He agrees. The last couple of inches of accuracy might suffer as a result, but- ]

I don't think the trajectory will be much of an issue- you're not looking for precision anymore, as long as the thing hits in, like, a four-inch radius of the target the effect will be the same. Boxing glove's got pretty big surface area.

[ If it drops a little it won't really impact the presentation which is really what the whole thing's about, right? ]

I say give it a shot.

[ A beat. ]

No pun intended.

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