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

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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

Yeah, yeah.

[ He dismisses irreverently. Fortunately, he's a toaster with good knees because if he were actually as haggard as he thinks he occasionally looks he can't imagine this would be a really fun time.

He pauses at the pathway to the left, allows Tony to twist around and get himself comfortable before he heads in himself. Slides up along the side of Tony's body with the dragging of fabric, and then twists himself until he's flat on his back, pressing into Tony's side from shoulder down to hip.

There sure as hell isn't a lot of room, is there? They're lucky to have a good six inches between their faces, let alone any personal space. ]

If you could do us both a favor and not fry yourself, that'd be ideal. I'm not looking forward to dragging your lifeless corpse back the way we came.

Your concern is touching. [ He shifts, pulling a screwdriver from his pocket to unfasten the grate blocking the access point he needs. Peering up at the underside is always strange, he doesn't know why he expects there to be that same soothing blue that lights up every other aspect of Jarvis- he designed these servers, lights would be inefficient and a waste of space but-

Fanciful sentiment, honestly.

Tony lets the grate slide to the side, reaching in to unplug the power source- gingerly withdrawing the cable to hand it off to Bruce. If the personal space issue was bothering him, it doesn't show on his face. Honestly he doesn't think anything of it. ] Just keep it from touching anything metal. You'll be fine, I'll fry like bacon.

Good thing there's hardly any metal in here.

[ He muses sarcastically. Hardly any except, you know, the server itself and the grating and the floors and the walls and even Tony's god damn chest. He uses the arm not currently pressed against Tony's to reach up and curl around the cable just beneath the head. He handles it with great care and locks his arm into a stable position, cognizant of the fact that he's fortunate it won't get tired like a standard human might. No muscle fatigue, no releasing of lactic acid.

Easy. ]

Every time you sass me back it warms my heart.

[ Just another sign that Bruce has developed into a mostly realized person that is 100% done with everything- which feels appropriate for a sentient robot in the year of our lord 2016.

Once he's sure Bruce has the cable he reaches in, delicately removing the older silicate sheets. His hands are steady, his eyes focused, touch light and deft along the edges as he slides the first one out of the housing and sets it next to the grate. Unwrapping the first means a little fumbling with the package braced on top of the arc reactor, but he manages. ] We'll be hitting three other towers after this one so. Get comfortable.

Happy to help.

[ He responds wryly, though this time he actually means it. It took him a while to warm up to Tony, that first day he'd been convinced the guy had all the wrong intentions, suspected maybe some kind of a god complex, thought there were a hundred different ways he'd grow to dislike or disapprove of Tony.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Now, he takes every laugh like it's an accomplishment and all of those fond pats like a personal sort of victory.

Tower one he spends watching Tony's hands as they work, deft and skilled and sure of themselves, aside from the brief fumbling with packaging. Tries not to feel a little weird about the fact that they crafted his, you know, everything. It's a one-sided sort of intimacy, as if there wasn't already a weird power imbalance in play. ]

They say laying on flat surfaces is great for your spinal alignment.

[ He figures he'll throw that out because this is actually... incredibly uncomfortable, but you know, he'll manage. ]

Wonder what they were smoking when they made that up.

What the kids call 'the good kush'. [ Slide one? In place. He gingerly slides the second sheet out with just as much care before replacing it. ] Which you can, coincidentally, simulate the influence of if you really want to. I think J's got a file from a few sessions where Rhodey and I lit up to study the effects on brain chemistry. Or at least that was the excuse.

[ Mostly it was, is in the odd moment he considers trying it again, a way to slow his brain the fuck down without dipping too deep into the bottle (he's a functional alcoholic and would like to keep the functional part true) or into opiates. It hasn't been so bad lately with Bruce around to help divert or course correct his tendency to obsess over minutiae, or offer nudges in a more productive direction so if he is going to obsess over tiny, stupid shit, it'll at least be worth something. ]

Just go ahead and reach in there to replace the power cable. It'll be easier than me reaching in again. See right- there? [ He points with the plastic end of the screwdriver to a socket just inset on the underside of the tower. ] Plug it in and we're good to move on.

Yeah, no, sounds great. Let's take artificial anxiety and throw being artifically stoned on top of it, I'm sure that'll go well.

[ Because god knows if he were to ever partake he'd probably be one of those paranoid stoners who got convinced by minute five in that they were having a heart attack. His processers would fucking explode or something, he'd bet money on it. If he had money. Which... Tony says he apparently does, but thus far he's had no reason to use it. He only eats for recreation or knowledge, he lives in Stark's lab, and his hobbies are illegally downloading medical texts these days.

He's not exactly an expensive personality.

He shifts, lifts his shoulder up a little to gracefully slide the power cable back into place. It takes a little bit of a push, but when it's firmly seated he lowers his arm again. ]

'Kay.

[ He murmurs, verbal encouragement for Tony to slide the grate back into place. ]

[ It does mean Bruce is leaning up a little into Tony's space, making that six inches more like three and a half but- again. Tony's not all that bothered, eyes on the cable and housing in case he needs to say a quick prayer to- Tesla? Who knows, he's not one for praying. But Bruce lines up and plugs the cable in without issue. For all his earlier chill there's a palpable tension in Tony's shoulders that eases; he hates being electrocuted and really, truly doesn't want to die of it.

That'd kind of suck. ]

Alright. [ He screws the grate back in place, patting Bruce's shoulder to give him warning before he rolls over and goes back to crawling to the next Tower. Rinse and repeat. Grate, cable, slides. All while it gets warmer and warmer in the crawlspace. ]

[ That whole rolling over thing is sort of an interesting affair. Tony has to shift to his side, hover right above Bruce for a second or two, flip onto his elbows so he's just above him and they're just to the left of face to face. Then it's a matter of easing backward down the side of the length of his body, which is... an interesting sight to witness.

With the free space he's given it's a hundred times easier for him to follow suit, turning over and shifting back with only the softest of exhales.

The next grate over and he's crawling up by Tony's side again, hovering above him for a second until he can twist over and flop on his back. Funny how quick it's becoming an easy habit. A hand comes up before he's even asked this second time, slipping the power cable from Tony's fingers like they've been working together for years instead of- what- two months? Give or take? ]

How'd you manage this the first time?

[ He murmurs, glancing over to study Tony's expression instead of his hands this time. ]

[ It does lend a decided hint of intimacy to an otherwise mundane task. When Bruce crawls up him the second time Tony can't help a subtle eyebrow waggle, all in good fun. Innocent enough, right? Right. He doesn't make a thing of it, just resumes the task at hand without overt commentary. They fall in sync as well as he and Rhodey ever had and- that's a nice thought. One he'll keep in mind the next time he needs extra hands. ]

Mmm? Power wasn't hooked up, no risk of accidentally frying myself.

[ His eyes flick to the side, lit from the headlamp like they are it's less of a blackened brown and more a honey'd amber, bright with humor. Work is work and it's familiar work, but company? Makes the work less tedious. Maybe he'd built himself a conversational toaster for company after all.

Not that he'll ever admit it.

Eyes back on the job so he doesn't fuck up the placement, his brow furrows somewhat, eyes narrowing in focus, corer of his mouth curling in so he can gnaw on his lip, tongue flickering out to soothe the mild sting once he's finished. ]

Also I plugged the bases in individually before assembling the towers on top, so. Easier to move around, less crawling involved. It went much faster.

[ It's probably weird, he thinks, to study someone's face the way he is. Probably socially inappropriate to memorize the way Tony's eyes slit a little, or the way his teeth graze his lips, or the way his tongue chases them shortly after. It's a unique gesture, one that makes his lips twitch almost empathetically like he's imaging doing it a little too clearly.

He tilts his head up an inch or two out of consideration, so the headlamp doesn't shine in his face as he watches.

Interesting. Very interesting. What was it Tony said to him once? You're fascinating, I can't help it.

He might get that, now.

He hmms in response to the answer to his question, tilting his head like he's acquiescing to the validity of the method. ]

Fair enough.

I didn't anticipate trying to hack someone that had shit that could maybe in a five percent window of possibility damage Jarvis.

[ Hence, doing this. That five percent? Is still far too likely for Tony's peace of mind. Anything more than one percent is unacceptable, so. Crawling around in ducts full of potentially lethal cables with his new companion cube of a toaster.

One sheet, two and again the moment where he gestures for Bruce to plug the cable back in so he can close it up. ]

I don't think I'll need to do this again for at least another two years after we're finished.

God forbid.

[ He agrees, and this time although it still sounds a little wry there's also a note of seriousness to it. Although he and Jarvis have something of a comfortable and occasionally symbiotic relationship (insofar as they exchange information and keep tabs on Tony), his bigger concern would be how hard Tony would take it if someone managed to compromise him.

Of course, yeah, all the confidential and absolutely harmful data, but he thinks Tony might take an assault on an AI he clearly treasures as more of an affront than the fallout of the information itself.

He twists a little again, almost on his side as he settles up on his left elbow to reach his right arm up. Shoves the power cable in until it's firmly seated again, and then drops down. ]

'Kay.

[ He says again, shorthand now for put the grate back. ]

[ Back the grate goes, screwed in place, and it's another round of rolling over above Bruce- winking down at him this time because he can, because it's harmless- and crawling his way up to the next tower.

As a rule he holds all his creations near and dear- the ones he keeps to himself. Not everyone in the tower understands how complete a personality Jarvis has except Rhodey, Pepper, and Bruce. Even Happy doesn't quite grasp it, and that's fine. No one else understands how much the bots mean to him, why he keeps them around if they're willful and on occasion buggy. Anything he makes to sell? Works well as a point of pride. Anything he makes for the Avengers or the Iron Man Armor? Is perfect because it must be for them to do their job correctly.

Anything for himself? He's poured his soul into, in so much that he believes in souls. It shows in the extra effort he goes through with minding every burr, every squeaky axle, every scuff on the bots, weird line of code in Jarvis, or moment of comfort or reassurance Bruce needs. ]

Tower number three. Halfway done. [ He rolls over onto his back, waving Bruce up. ] Come on up, big guy.

[ Tony winks at him and Bruce stares back with an arched eyebrow and an otherwise inscrutable expression. He'd never in a million years take it seriously, it's just Tony being Tony-- and even if he is flirting, it's just... nothing. It's harmless. Bruce is a toaster, he has no delusions of being anything more than that.

Besides, have you seen this body?

He slides into position because it's rote by now, settles at Tony's side like he belongs there. Lapses into a comfortable and easy silence like he's often wont to do, flowing easily into work that's as mindless as it is satisfying, in a way. ]

[ Bruce has probably, in his time working around Tony, seen him flirt with a literal toaster while waiting for a bagel. It's not that odd save for all the ways it kind of is for anyone but Tony, he's just. Eccentric. Making kissy faces at Jarvis is something else he's probably seen, Tony flirts like breathing with damn near everyone and anything depending on his mood and, injury aside? His mood's been pretty good lately.

The extra company in the lab's settled him a little. Maybe. Probably. Most likely.

Grate, cable, silicate sheets and he frowns at the first one he pulls out, squinting at a hairline fracture along one edge. Sure they're replacing them but- ]

Shit. Ping J if you can, have him do a quick server assessment?

[ He's definitely seen Tony flirt with the coffee maker like it's the love of his actual life, which is amusing every single time it happens. Not quite as amusing as Jarvis' occasional deadpan toward the come-ons, but it's up there pretty high.

He spots the hairline fracture a second after Tony does, and nods his head. Rolls his eyes up to absently stare at the grating above them while he reaches out through his uplink. ]

He's running a diagnostic on it, sir.

[ Bruce murmurs in answer when he realizes Tony can't hear the what he's getting directly into his processor. The sir is quite clearly a slip of the tongue, it's verbatim from Jarvis and out his mouth before he can censor it.

He imagines that's what people think telepathy is like, not a sound so much as a concrete alien thought spoken directly into your consciousness. It would probably be weird if it didn't feel so natural and intuitive. ]

Can we get a timeframe on how long that'll take? Might as well mark which ones need adjustment while we're down here.

[ A beat, one that's a bit drawn out before Tony clears his throat, smothering amusement and mild discomfit both. ]

Let's also not have you call me that ever again too, ok? It's- weird.

[ It doesn't suit Bruce's voice, his temperament. Even if Jarvis' butler schtick is something he leans into wholeheartedly there's not a subservient circuit in him. Something like 'sir' coming out of Bruce leans into the realm of maybe kink and-

No?

Yes.

Maybe?

Oh god what are the ethics on this shit? ]

Ten minutes.

[ It's out his mouth the second it's in his head, which is... interesting, but more importantly, he's huffing out a breathy chuckle at Tony's obvious discomfort. ]

Trust me, it was weirder for me than it was for you.

[ Probably. Maybe not, actually, because he's not thinking kink. Either way, it's not really his style and, frankly, he hasn't put any thought into whether he'd be, you know, dominant or submissive, or if-

Nope, just stopping that right there before he travels down a rabbit hole in close quarters. Probably something to contemplate on later.

Introspect. ]

I'm willing to bet.

[ They haven't dropped to 'hey asshole' 'yeah moron' levels of comfort yet but maybe, one day, they'll get there. Or stick with toaster-stroodle and 'why, Tony, please'. That works for them, no reason to get wild when the system isn't broken. He is absolutely ignoring any odd thoughts suddenly prompted by a little radio android telepathy.

Might as well finish the job they're here for- so. He replaces the sheet with the same care as he's been handling the rest, replacing the next one- no crack. So that's not a terrible sign, really. ]

...what's it like, being able to communicate with him like that?

[ Why, Tony, Please was probably the most apt possible nickname Bruce could come up with to adequately express his feelings towards Tony 99% of the time. Constant fond exasperation and surprise all intermingled together behind a layer of I'm So Done With This Shit.

At the question he turns his head, angling his jaw up a little to shine the headlamp just above Tony's forehead instead of into his eyeballs like some kind of savage.

He hmms thoughtfully. ]

I was just thinking- it's probably like how people think telepathy is, you know? Like... having someone in your head, just... beaming thoughts directly into you. [ A beat, and he shrugs a shoulder. ] It's like hearing, just... not out loud.

[ Which has the fortunate (unfortunate) side effect of showing off the jawline Tony had carefully crafted specifically to not be distracting and here it is. Existing. And. Being distracting. Fuck his brain this is not what he needs. Later he'll go out, have a few drinks, find a good time, get this out of his system.

Yeah.

That's an excellent plan he'll absolutely fail to follow through on. ]

Now and then I think about maybe- finding a way to plug in. Make communication instantaneous. And then he reminds me that my brain, while a marvel of biology and genius, would probably fry if I tried it due to the sheer speed of calculation and I'd end up a very pretty vegetable.

[ Bruce eyes him skeptically at the notion, a little divot in his brow, a clear knit of concern. Completely, wholly oblivious to the internal conflict Stark is feeling because he genuinely can't imagine himself as the object of anyone's affection or attraction. ]

Yeah, no, that's a terrible idea.

[ He agrees immediately, shifting like he wants to cross his arms and then realizing before he manages that it'd put an elbow right in Tony's sternum, which is... no. So instead he winds up just brushing their arms together and settling back down again. ]

I'm sure you'd revolutionize all the other celery stalks in the personal care home, but- no. Don't use yourself as a guinea pig to test neural implantation.

[ First the jaw, then the brow, did he really sculpt a face this striking subconsciously? Bruce was supposed to be safe. Not being able to predict how he'd emote probably helped, it's the motion he puts in the chassis that has Tony's attention-

Shit. This could be a problem.

It won't be if he ignores it. He'll just ignore it. It'll pass. ]

I wouldn't jump straight to human testing- but none of the sims I've worked out have turned up promising. Nine times out of ten? Melted brain jelly. It's just- if Hydra and Zola were able to put him on tape reels, why can't I figure out how to do something better?

Be...cause you're not a horrific evil genocidal insane nazi?

[ He speculates incredulously, and... gets abruptly tired of having to tilt his head the way he does, so he snakes a hand up past their bodies to wrap around his headlamp and tug it off. He'll put it back on whenever they get back to work, but he wants to be able to look Tony straight in the face instead of cocking it to one side like a bird or some kind of weird... lizard-person. ]

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