did you hear google is becoming sentient?

[blacklisle]

MADE THINGS

Some (maybe even you) would say you're not a person. You were made, not born: every aspect of your being was designed by someone else.

At least, in the beginning.

You're self-aware, though, and your experiences are slowly changing you. Are they making you wiser, or just more unpredictable? And was this part of the purpose for which you were created -- or will there be consequences if you stray too far from expectations?

Instructions:

1. Post a top-level comment with your character, and put their name and canon in the subject line. In the body of the comment, explain what kind(s) of being they are (or could be), plus any other preferences you have.
2. Mingle with your fellow creatures, or with the "real" people who tag you.
3. ???
4. Profit.

robot

A machine with a mind, whether clockwork soldier, hyperrealistic android, or artificial intelligence that powers simulations or starships. You know that you exist, even if you can't be said to live. But can the humans get their squishy brains around that idea?

clone

Perhaps you're a custom-built replica of someone long gone, or the bespoke child of the most discriminating of parents; or perhaps you're only one of a whole legion of twins, turned out en masse as workforce or cannon fodder.

construct

Men built of clay, women carved from marble, girls made of flowers and creatures pieced together out of dead things -- something created in a human shape, and then animated. Your life, in a very real sense, is not your own... but what about your soul?

Comments

shirabu kenjiro | hq!!

[selfefface]

((shirabu's extremely single-minded, hyper-capable, and not overburdened with social skills, so i can totally see him as an android or clone made for a specific purpose (ends up being a doctor in canon, so that's one idea). he's also very pretty in a delicate way, which could suit the other option. i'm open to everything!))

HK-47 | Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic

[redarmorhunter]

Guri | Star Wars: Legends

[marvelous_murderbot]

[OOC: Human Replica Droid. Can be found at two times in her life - on her journey towards personhood or in the bad old days when she's an assassin and chief enforcer for the Black Sun crime syndicate.]

rk800 "connor" | detroit become human

[facilitates]

[Advanced prototype android created by the shady af CyberLife company. Built to locate and apprehend "deviant" androids going rogue.

Can rp Connor as in DBH canon or au him into other canons. Assumed cr preferred]

for Aloy

[facilitates]

then

[A failed prototype. That's what the RK800 "Connor" is.

Connor is only a few months old and he already knows he's an irreversible failure.

The android hears whispers of that before the opening days of Operation Enduring Freedom. FAS's new line of machine, human-passing androids with none of the weaknesses of a human...has failed every known remote-hacking test the Faro swarms could utilize and that isn't even counting the ways each swarm may have evolved their ability to add hostile machines to their ranks since the Glitch. Even "Connor", equipped with the latest FAS polyphasic entangled waveforms, won't last long out in the field. A few days, at best, before a swarm simply brute-forces him into betraying his creators. The advantage of sheer numbers out-calculating even his advanced processors.

It's too late.

Connor already ran probabilities while taking into account available resources and surviving manufacturing facilities, dwindling by the week. The day. The hour. There simply isn't enough time, resources or surviving personnel to manufacture enough upgraded androids to combat the Faro swarms. Any androids already produced would be better utilized inside the Zero Dawn facilities to aid research, to be equipped with personal self-destruct mechanisms if a swarm was detected.

When the RK800 politely informs Mr. Faro as such, the human's face, pale and tired, pinches into a snarl-like grimace as he curses under his breath, wheels around, and make a dismissive gesture to the R&D team parting before him like the Red Sea.

It occurs to Connor, as he's being escorted several levels down to Storage, that Mr. Faro has effectively shut down the android project with just a single gesture. The last thought he has as the deactivation sequence initiates is that he won't get the opportunity to assist humanity with Project Zero Dawn.]

---

now

[The Old Ones ruins looks like many of the others Aloy has already run across. Strange, often downright bizarre architecture. Cables and hard angles. The dull creaks of the ruins settling, days or centuries from finally collapsing on themselves. The steady, distant drip of water leaking somewhere from compromised hulls as the outside world creeps in, as vines and undergrowth venture deeper. Abandoned signs of the previous inhabitants in the form of rotting belongings, of ghostly holos only the Focus can see.

The good news is this ruin doesn't have the immediate signs of machines prowling inside with their usual tell-tale blue glow.

In fact, the only direct glow can be found at the very bottom of the ruins, after navigating shattered elevator shafts and emergency staircases, past a door with the faded all-caps print of STORAGE. Past crates of parts, weapons, and long-expired food stores, the ping source can be found in a corner. Half-hidden, covered in cob-webs, is what appears to be a living man slumped on his side, sprawled from a broken crate in a classic fetal position, and wearing the strange cut of clothes often visible in the Old Ones records.

The glowing LED circle tattooed against his temple pulses a feeble shade of red, stuttering like a struggling heartbeat. With his eyes shut, "Connor" looks like he's just sleeping.]

[tripcaster]

[ Tallnecks can show up in pretty strange places.

Mountains, deserts, arctic tundras... not always intact, mind you, but following the insistent signal almost always ended up with the machine's distinctive broadcasting dish lodged somewhere utterly ridiculous if one wasn't roaming free.
Underground, though? That's new.

Aloy prowls silently through the oppressive dark with only the glow of her Focus to guide her, taking care to explore all the side rooms and desks of whatever this ruin used to be. Gut instinct makes Aloy lean towards "testing facility", but... for what? The ill-fated CHARIOT line? Some other domestic product? Technology for Zero Dawn, on Elisabet's orders? Maybe she'll never know.

But what Aloy does know is that the source of the signal is right behind this door. ]

HOLD FOR IDENTISCAN.

[ Impatiently shifting her weight from foot to foot, the Nora hunter waits for the flickering light to compare her genetic code to the ones listed in some intangible employee list - already tilting forwards into a jog well before the pre-recorded greeting message finishes. ]

SCAN COMPLETE. WELCOME, DOCTOR SOBECK.

[ Inside, she finds row upon row of ancient caches of every size - small ones that would fit neatly in her palm to massive ones that squat in corners, looming in the dark like some primordial beast with automated cranes frozen overhead, poised in the act of transferring nameless cargo.
And a single lit panel right in front of the mysterious signal. Whatever it is, it's hard to see around the other debris and cobwebs, but the flickering red light draws her eye like a magnet.

"ERROR: IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED.
FORCE SYSTEM REBOOT?

►YES | NO" ]

Why not? Nothing else worth finding down here. [ She mutters, tapping 'YES' without a second thought. ] Come on, what were you hiding, Faro?

[ What's the worst that could happen? ]

[facilitates]

[It takes a few seconds for there to be any visible activity.

At first it starts with that feeble glow, glittering through cobwebs and dust. That red pulses a little stronger with each second, spinning in dizzying neon circle until it's a solid ring of color. The thirium pump, still for centuries, activates under the authorization of Dr. Sobeck and with that the rest of the RK800's systems begin to reboot: something shudders in front of Aloy, twitches with a jerky little convulsion as if its limbs have fallen asleep and it's shaking out the pins and needles.

SYSTEM REBOOT COMPLETED.

INITIATE: Open Optical Units
INITIATE: Sit Up

Connor's eyes flutter open as he shifts underneath the mass of cobwebs gray and heavy with dust and grime. He sits up, the motion sudden and stiff, and he then registers the obstructions hanging in his face and snared in his hair with what could almost be a disapproving little frown. The humanoid shape before Aloy reaches up, swipes away the debris, and suddenly there's what appears to be a living, breathing human sitting calmly in front of the Nora, the LED stamped just above his eyebrow now amber instead of emergency-red.

The RK800 gazes back with an almost serene expression on his face, pale without the usual marks of the scars of living, frequent sun exposure or even decent tribal paint.]

Dr. Sobeck, I'm happy to...

[A pause as Connor takes in the decidedly...unconventional appearance of the human woman before him. The red hair, long, more of a braided and wild mane than anything else. Bizarre clothes seemingly stitched together from crude leathers, furs, and odd pieces of metal that he can't ID their manufacturing plant. But it's the face - too young, missing the familiar age lines creasing around the eyes and tracking from nose to corners of the mouth - that has Connor correcting himself.]

My apologies, I was mistaken.

[tripcaster]

[ Aloy's body moves without thinking.

She doesn't stop to wonder what a (apparently) living, breathing person is doing down here in the ruins of an ancient civilization, but instead Connor's polite greeting is met with her bow at full draw and an arrow pulled back to her cheek.
At this distance the reinforced arrowhead's sure to do some serious damage - if she can punch through a Thunderjaw's belly plating, an android's shell would part like tissue paper.

But she doesn't fire. Not yet. ]

What are -- how did you --

[ She's got exactly zero clue where to start - a deluge of questions stampeding through her head like a herd of startled Chargers. What is he? How did he get here? How does he know Elisabet? How long has he been here?
Aloy takes a deep breath, slowing the pounding of her heart... but doesn't lower her bow. ]

Uh... apology accepted, I guess.
Look, just get out here so I can see you properly.

[facilitates]

[It actually takes Connor a second - not a fraction of a second but a full one - to actually identify the crude weapon drawn upon him. Weapons like that were regarded as historical; irrelevant to modern society, especially so as soon as the Glitch. For a moment Connor gazes at the point of a very deadly arrowhead with puzzled curiosity, his eyebrows knit faintly before they lift as if he's only just now realizing he could be in danger.]

Yes, of course.

[Connor gets to his feet, actually brushing off the cobwebs and grime with almost the exact same fussiness of a Carja noble, and then he'll step forward with his hands slightly up just like his programming says one should do if one wishes to appear harmless to humans. With the bulk of the dirt mostly gone, his android attire once again broadcasts what he is: glowing teal markers on chest and upper arm, RK800 emblazoned on his chest with his serial number. There's even ANDROID splashed across his back in all caps for those in the back row.

Any human who saw him should immediately know what he was, except...]

Since you're not Dr. Sobeck, maybe it'd help if I introduce myself? My serial number is RK800 #313 248 317.

[Connor hesitates, weighs how well a friendly handshake would be received, takes another look at the bow and arrow aimed at his just-reactivated thirium pump, and wisely decides against it.]

[tripcaster]

[ Judging from the look on her face, the string of numbers he's spouting at her might as well be an alien language. ]

O-kay. There's zero chance I can remember all that. Do you have a name that's a little shorter?

[ A niggling voice in the back of her head insists she'd read "RK800" somewhere in the last day. Where? One of the datapoints in a floor above? Doubtless worth some cross-referencing when she's got a moment to spare, preferably after figuring out the nature of what she's just discovered. Either there's a literal piece of the past standing in front of her or she's having vivid hallucinations.

He's certainly dressed like one of the Metal World inhabitants. Sleek blacks and greys, clothing that couldn't keep the cold out or shed water like Aloy's. Clothing with a sole function of Looking Nice™ instead of survival outdoors.

Her eyes shift across his body - from the band of light on his arm, to the triangular crest, to the emblazoned RK800 - eventually settling on his upturned hands and the silent plea. pls no booli the robot, aloy. ]

Sorry. [ The bowstring goes slack as she hesitantly lowers her weapon. ] I wasn't expecting all... this.

[ HELPLESS GESTURE. "This". You know? Stuff? Literally everything she didn't expect? Yeah, that stuff. ]

I'm Aloy.

[facilitates]

[This serves as a reminder that the average human isn't proficient at remembering strings of numbers off the bat. Connor makes a note to introduce himself differently in the future now that it appears he has one. Possibly. He's reactivated, after all, so there must be a reason why. If there isn't, then he'll default to his primary directives and it's that easy waking from the dead for an android]

Pleased to meet you, Aloy. Feel free to call me "Connor", if you'd like - it's what the others sometimes did.

[Not everyone. Definitely not Mr. Faro, who had been most disappointed with Connor's final assessment (he distinctively remembers Mr. Faro muttering that androids were "a fucking waste of money" and "worthless pieces of shit" and "get it outta my sight").

The bow lowers but Connor's hands don't. It's best the human think she's in a position of power, even if she isn't dressed appropriately to work in the facility, isn't wearing an authorized name tag, and doesn't appear to be on the visitor log he quickly consults. (In fact he should be escorting any strangers out, under normal circumstances). Not only that, but there's plenty in Aloy's attire that looks like it could get caught in machinery or shed undesirable fibers all over the place. Her wild hair is...Connor doesn't have a word for it, so he settles for "something" and moves on.

It's Aloy's uncanny facial resemblance to Dr. Sobeck that has Connor circling back, . Obviously not her, due to the visible age difference. But very close. Likely a relative? A daughter? How long was he deactivated for?]

What were you expecting? If you're lost, I can try to assist.

[tripcaster]

[ That gets a half-strangled snort of disbelief. ]

How about you can answer some questions and we'll call ourselves even. I'm not lost if I came down here on purpose, am I?

[ Expecting only to see the typical humanoid shape in her interface, Aloy casually activates her Focus.

And recoils a step. Just one. While this does solve several mysteries outright, what started as a handful of questions promptly multiplies into exponentially more.
It's disconcerting being able to cycle through parts and weakpoints like any other machine she hunts. Unlike the others, these parts are neatly packaged in a much more familiar shape, dressed up so convincingly nobody would give him a second glance.

"Android". She's never seen that word before. ]

Wait... you're a machine?

[facilitates]

[Connor is about to point out that she has to be lost - or, worse, some sort of saboteur - because it's obvious she isn't authorized to be in Storage and seems to have no idea what she came down here for if their conversation log is anything to go by. He doesn't get the chance because Aloy checks her Focus and she suddenly seems to flinch back, her teeth bared slightly almost like a snarl.]

I did give you my serial number. [The RK800 continues to sound almost unnaturally calm despite almost getting shot by a bow and arrow, his head cocking slightly] Are you uncomfortable around androids? If you are, I can locate a human in Security to assist you instead...however, they'll have questions about how you got down here. Please be prepared to present your ID.

[Connor doesn't seem to know that everyone in Security is long dead - some of them the very skeletons that Aloy may have passed on the way in. He can make internal calls all he wants, but there won't be a living soul to answer even if he decides that Aloy's a threat to the facility after all]

[tripcaster]

I don't know what a serial number is. Or what an "android" is. Of course I'm uncomfortable!

[ To be fair, She's not angry so much as startled. As far as Aloy's knowledge goes there's a strict dichotomy of Machines and AI, with a clear line delineating both. One, performing tasks mindlessly for as long as the program dictates and as long as their parts endure, the other, orchestrating what machines perform what tasks. GAIA, HEPHAESTUS, CYAN, HADES; intangible but intelligent. Thunderjaws, Broadheads, Bellowbacks, Watchers; physically present, but lacking free will.
And yet there seems to be a blend of both having a cordial conversation right before her eyes.

Another breath - steady, Aloy - drives lingering tension from the knot in her chest while she settles her bow on her back. Crosses her arms, lips quirking up on one side in a sardonic smile at what he clearly thinks is a dire threat, grimly aware that no help will come. ]

You know what, I'd like to see that. [ She jerks her chin to one side, gesturing back up the calcified remains of an escalator towards the main floor. ] Go ahead and call Security.

I'm going to wander through here a bit and see if there's anything worth salvaging in the meantime. Let me know what they say.

jonah magnus • the magnus archives

[dearjonah]

[ 1 or 3. Any time period works! Very intrigued by the idea of Jonah having gained such a sense of self/such a hatred and fear of subjugation that he's killed (or is still plotting to kill) whoever created him. Also available in Elias flavour, for someone a little cooler and calmer (but... still Plotting). ]

Blues || Mega Man || OTA

[prototype_blues]

[Blues is the prototype for Robot Masters, aka the first semi-self-aware robot of his kind. I say "semi" self-aware because canon is weird about if the RMs are actually fully aware or not, because /looks at the X series. Either way, robot here.]

Takeshi Hongo | Kamen Rider

[firstrider]

[the og Rider, was made into a cyborg by an evil organization]

Maedhros | the silmarillion | ota

[holdshisown]

[A living construct made out of a crystaline material called silima when his father decided to create the perfect heir for himself.]

Eskel || The Witcher(any-ish) || OTA

[wolfdogwitcher]

{{Construct, I suppose. Left on a mountainside to either be taken by the elements or the monstrous men that stalk the pine forests of the Blue Mountains, Eskel was taken in as a foundling of the school of the Wolf. Fed alchemical poisons and trained by both the rough hands and brutal machines of his mentors, tested in trials that nearly killed him and burned away his humanity, Eskel of Kaer Morhen grew less into a man and more a perfected killing machine, skilled with both sword and spell.}}

i'm only vaguely canon familiar so pls feel free to change or handwave whatever

[wythersake]

"Well," Isaac's nose wrinkles, peeling free one gore-streaked glove. "You won't die."

Today, on the dirt floor of this hut, deep in the shit-heap hills of - somewhere. Isaac's never seen a map that bothered to mark its name. That's the whole point of going into hiding, to go where no one will look.

No one with sense. Probably that leaked out with the rest of his guts.

"But I shouldn't go dancing any time soon."

As though Eskel's in shape to go anywhere. The dim little room stinks herbal; not enough to cover the copper tang of blood. In the corner, something with too many legs coils against a jar. Outside: Dying light. The distant sound of wolves.

I can work with vague familiarity, no worries!

[wolfdogwitcher]

Isaac's right, for Eskel is destined to die in another time, another place and not here on this floor. This does not spare him from feeling like now might be the time, gritting his cracked and crooked teeth against the pain, because Destiny has never looked kindly on Eskel of Kaer Morhen.

"Not...my first time." He pants, meaning the way his belly had been laid open, blood oozing between his fingers, welling up with each impossibly slow beat of his heart. Granted, the last time he had also almost died. "I'll be fine." Brave words for a man gone pale as a fish with blood-loss and having pumped himself so full of alchemical poisons his already rough face is a horror to look on, shot through with purple veins, the whites of his eyes turned to wells of black that make the yellow pupils burn like hellfire. Said poisons had probably been the only thing keeping him from immediately bleeding out, but it would be some time before they left his system and even then, it almost hadn't been enough.

Wayne | Hylics | OTA

[ablativeholopleather]

[Quite literally a clone dozens of times over, ostensibly from Old Wayne himself. If you've seen him, or Decres around, then you sure have seen them around!]

Lucifer | Granblue Fantasy

[luvien]

[canonically a construct given the same features as his creator. can do pre/post-fallen angel rebellion, post-000, or AU]

bryde ( the dreamer trilogy )

[treespeaks]

[ ... well. ]

Plain doll | Bloodborne |

[man_made]

[ Plain doll cares for the hunter's residence and offers words of comfort. ]