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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no subject
[ He crackles a laugh, sliding the last of the silicate sheets into place. As soon as Bruce has the cable plugged back in he closes the tower up and rolls over to start backing out. Which means bracing himself over bruce and scuttling backwards until he hits the intersection so he could turn.
Which.
Could bring up many, many mental images. ]
Just for you, Toaster-stroodle.
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Although, this situation's doing a number to really hurry that along.
The nickname earns him another huff, but he spends most of his concentration on flipping, turning, crawling. Following kindly behind him like it's the most natural thing in the world. ]
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As soon as he's helped Bruce up and out he takes a moment to strip off his shirt, leaving him in one of his black tanktops so. Still decent, reactor still a glowing focal point in the middle of his chest, but nowhere near as stifled as he would be with the extra layer. ]
Ugh, that's better. How you holding up?
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And... tries not to look too long and the suddenly exposed shoulders, the extra mile of neck. That's... wholly new and unexpected, actually. He's seen Tony's ribs, yes, absolutely he's seen a big ol' bloody patch of cuts and bruises along a section of his abdomen but this?
Different context, different body parts, no clinical detachment, no injuries, just whole bare sudden... shoulders.
He had absolutely no idea up until this point how big of a fan he was of that particular part of the human anatomy. Almost as quickly as he sees them, he jerks his eyes away and subtly sets them someplace maybe ten feet away, evidently abruptly interested in a row of... boring identical servers.]
Um.
[ Replay the question.
How you holding up?
Oh, right. ]
Fine. Better than you, probably, since your joints are edging on a hundred or so.
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But-
Privacy, right. If it's important someone will let him know. ]
Forty two. I'm not quite decrepit just yet. [ He pats Bruce's forearm before releasing him to fish his phone out of his back pocket, flicking through a diagram to find where the power node they're pulling from and laying cable to will be. Looks like a longer crawl once they're underneath but it shouldn't be too much of a pain. ]
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But.
Now it is, and it very much is with him standing there being... sleeveless.
Stare at the servers, Bruce. Stare at the beautiful boring servers. ]
Getting there.
[ He says, although it sounds almost more like token sass than heartfelt sass. ]
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[ In theory and practice it's perfectly safe for him and Bruce but they are essentially crawling around in Jarvis' brain. Tony's used to the idea. Bruce can be...a little more delicate RE some subjects and Tony's never all that sure when he's going to stumble into one. Sometimes the only thing to do is keep going on and apologize when it happens via new tweed blazers or another round of updated textbooks uploaded to the server in a random assortment of subjects.
Though he had been peering into medical a lot lately. Maybe an omnibus of Grey's Anatomy? ]
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[ Just. Shaking his head adamantly even though he's staring pointedly anywhere else.
That's how you casual, right? By being a fucking weirdo? Man, he... really needs practice being inconspicuous. Some things you just don't have the opportunity to learn in two months time before you actually need them. ]
Lets- yeah, let's go do- whatever. Sure.
[ And just a vague sort of shooing gesture in the general direction of- well- anywhere, really, he has no idea where they're going next. ]
no subject
[ This is weirder than previously anticipated but more along the lines of 'socially awkward' than 'potential malfunction' so he'll just chalk whatever this is up to Bruce's wonderful journey to learning to be a real boy and head for the next crawlspace. He lifts the trap and slides in, motioning for Bruce to follow. ]
Is Jarvis beaming porn to your brain or something? You're allowed to tell me if he's hazing you, that's on the list of things not to do.
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[ Because generally, Jarvis is a thousand times more polite than Tony even on his best behavior. He couldn't actually see Jarvis hazing anyone, but then again he's having a hard time really visually thinking of... anything else.
It's fine, he's fine. It's just... new. Exposure therapy. It'll go away.
He follows, slides in behind Tony and... gets an eyeful of sloping back and shoulder blades and biceps.
Oh, no, yeah that's much worse. Good. ]
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[ Tony's head swings to the left to peer down an intersection, double checking their path, headlamp throwing the line of his throat, the cut of his jaw, and the cap of his shoulder into stark (ha) relief. Two more intersections and he'll find the node. Good. Pressing onward. ]
Usually in ways that remind me he's had way too much time around me for anyone's sense of sanity.
[ Second only to Rhodey, honestly, and- he still sort of. Needs to break the news to Rhodey, Pepper, and Helen that he's finished this particular project. That's a bridge he'll burn after he crosses it.
The cables bundle in larger clusters the further down they crawl, giving them less space than before as they approach the node. Tony has to twist and pull himself forward to reach the grate blocking off where the new cable needs to live- there's not a lot of room. Bruce'll have to be, more or less, right on top of him for the duration. ]
Alright, I need your hands.
no subject
Yes. Good. So this is what he's doing. This is what he gets to deal with. Great. That is just.
That's so great.
Fantastic. Best life ever. Amazing. Jesus fucking Christ.
He edges in more or less on his side, front to front, scooting his way up Tony's body and staring quite defiantly at the grating above them. Jaw completely set, teeth pressed together tightly.
Yep, totally fine. Great. So good. ]
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[ And it will, no muss, no fuss, leaving a series of plugs and cables, about a third of them that can kill Tony dead if he touches the live end. So. Time to work gingerly.
Pressed close like this he's more or less talking into Bruce's jaw, breath wafting along synthskin that sure as shit radiates heat and looks real- but, he's ignoring that. With every fiber in him, he's ignoring that. ] Third from the right, two rows down? Unplug that and move it to the space to the left.
[ He's not sure if this is one of the 'murder tony' cables but- he's got someone immune to this kind of death on hand, better let him handle it. Especially since he'll be holding the cable out of the way. ]
no subject
Simulated shortness of breath. Interesting. Increase in pulse rate which makes no sense because it acts as a pump but it is not, technically, a heart and should not therefore be beating faster, should it? Is that right? Is he having a component failure? Is he going to go into system shutdown in the middle of the fucking grating? Is this just a malfunction?
This is a malfunction isn't it? He's malfunctioning, that would be such an easy explanation.
God, he wishes this was a malfunction. His lips pull in together and his teeth press down on them from above and below. Jaw clenches uncomfortably tightly.
Third from the right. Two rows down. Yep. He shifts a little better onto his left arm, uses his right to reach up before them. Totally fine to keep his eyes pointedly ahead, he's got a job to do. Totally don't think about the soft breath on his-
Nope.
Alternatively he could jab a murder cable down his own throat and just die, that'd be nice.
He moves it to the space to the left, kind of wishes he could blow his brains out. ]
no subject
Once Bruce has done his part Tony has to shift to get the arm with the cable they need to attach up to actually plug the damn thing in, pressing them chest to chest for a second and a half.
Reactor aside- there's nothing abnormal in Tony's build. But the reactor is a slim rigid patch surrounded by firm muscle, thrumming at a similar frequency as the rumbling, larger reactor a floor above. Something he can kind of feel in his teeth the longer they're down here but he's not about to rush this because- zappy death? To be avoided. ]
Aaaaand- [ More inadvertent contact, closed fist rubbing up along Bruce's arm as he slots the cable's head in place, plugging it in with a grunt. ] We're good. Slide the grate back in place?
[ Then it's just a matter of crawling backward out of this narrow ass passage and trailing the cable to the appropriate sector. ]
no subject
It's fine. He's fine. This is fine. Everything's fine.
He slides the grate back into place wordlessly. ]
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Gimme a second to just-
[ While it's not the most graceful exit, bundling the cable off along the wall to add to the snakes surrounding them and slowly dragging his body down the length of Bruce's to get to a point where he can turn around- it still isn't his most awkward. That involved ill timed fireworks and a goat.
This is a fucking close contender, though, with how quiet Bruce has gone and how he spends half a second a few inches from his robojunk on the way down. Fuck. Getting past is- a fucking relief, honestly, and he's glad to make it down far enough to get back on is knees and breathe for a few seconds before checking his phone, again, for where they're headed. Getting turned around down here would be fucking tragic. ]
How you holding up, B?
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[ It flies out of his mouth before he can help it. It's so great, this is everything terrible that could possibly happen in one sitting. If it weren't for the fact that he knew how dangerous a stray wire could be, he'd be out of here already. He'd scoot straight down and crawl toward the exit, disappear into his suite for a couple of days and find a way to erase this particular incident from his memory.
Except what'll actually happen is Tony will try to finish, he'll slip up or fumble, light himself up from top to bottom with about ten thousand volts and Bruce will have to live with the knowledge that he killed Tony Stark because he couldn't keep his respiratory system under control for twenty god damn minutes.
So yes. He's doing fucking fantastic.
He wriggles his way out of his wirey tomb of unresolved sexual tension and questionable morals, and heads after Oblivious Man. ]
no subject
[ Because it's the thrumming and the close quarters making him cranky. Most likely. He's only been alive for about two months which is- a stupid amount of time by an AI measure but he has gone and locked Bruce into an analog existence for the most part which he didn't really think about too deeply. Maybe he should've. Things to mull over after he rewards himself with a scotch. After a shower.
And a stretch, all this crawling around is screwing with his spinal alignment.
Down two intersections, a right, down for five, a left and again Tony continues until the walls start to narrow again due to the bundles of cables clustering along the walls, the one he's spooling along behind him like Theseus and his string, though the monster here would be the live wires rather than a singular Minotaur.
His arms flex as he drags himself close to the grate, once again settling up for the last thing they need to do down here. ]
Need your hands again, buddy.
[ Ignore him if he's a little breathless, all this crawling in hot, confined spaces is getting to him just a wee bit. ]
no subject
What, he wonders, are the ethics on wanting to have sex with a human when you, yourself, decidedly aren't? Is there some kind of version of Freud for artificial intelligence, and if so, does his theory shift from people wanting to fuck their parents to people wanting to fuck their creators?
There's an entire healthy coping mechanisms dilemma about whether or not he's reacting this way because Tony is literally the only person he sees, or if he'd feel the same way he does now after knowing a thousand other people?
And
Seriously
Shoulders?
It couldn't be, like, chests or fingers or asses or any regular normal typically clothed place on the human body that gets him? Shoulders? A completely inconsequential totally necessary part of the human body.
There's something wrong with him. This is incredibly, embarrassingly, frustratingly wrong. Toasters do not get erections.
Well. Aside from, you know, that part where... the toast pops up but that's different.
He looks about two thousand percent done when he clinically slides his way up Tony's body. This is fucking ridiculous. He's not an idiot, this does not need to be a thing, he's a completely competent sentient being totally capable of controlling his own responses and he can function accordingly god damn it.
He can.
He can. ]
no subject
[ Meaning grate removal and it does take a half second of squinting to make sure- yeah, the cable they're moving goes the exact same place on this end before they plug this bitch in. The only change, the biggest, most relevant point-
Is that Tony's a little out of breath and might be huffing and puffing a teeny bit more than he had on the other end. Stupid crawlspaces. He's got to find a way to automate this update because this? This is bullshit. Past him is an idiot. 'oh it'll never be a thing to worry about'
No, bitch, he's worrying about it and fixing it and, god he's a moron. ]
no subject
Never has any being ever been more torn between suicide, homicide, and homosexuality all at once. Move the cable to the left. Don't accidentally almost lock lips with your boss. Try not to focus on ghosting your mouth over his mouth.
Don't accidentally electrocute them both and die.
Do the expectations never end.
He hasn't said a damn word in minutes and frankly it's because he doesn't trust himself to move his lips to make words and only make words.
And those words not be 'put your damn shirt back on, Tony.'
So. Silence. ]
no subject
Home stretch, mission accomplished.
Tony's popping his back with a groan and wiping his face with the shirt he'd peeled off earlier by the time Bruce makes it out of the hole, offering a thumbs up. ]
A plus, good job, thanks for the assist.
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Any time.
[ He says grimly, tone directly contradicting the words, eyes on anything but Tony. Yep. They're done here, so he's just going to. You know. Shove his hands in his pockets and head directly for the escape route, lead the way to the elevator. ]
no subject
He trails behind, leaning against the wall of the elevator on the ride up, doing his best to give Bruce as much space as possible for the duration.
Note to self: Handle your own shit on your own in the future.
The doors sliding open to the workshop's never been such a relief, for all that he doesn't mind crawling around in the subbasement it's been some kind of tense for the past half hour. and generally? He tries to avoid that shit. Undue stress isn't healthy for a guy with a heart condition. ]
I'm gonna- [ He gestures to his workstation, somewhat lamely. Scotch first, of course, but then finishing shit up here for the rest of the upgrade. ] So.
(no subject)