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nerviovago · 12 days ago
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lake-lady · a month ago
Wish I was a piece of bread being gently soaked in soup like a hot n salty bath......
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rolypolyphonic · 14 days ago
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When that whirring drone got up again for the third time, that was enough to make X certain that it was not a disassembly drone—although its absence in her database should have been more than enough confirmation, she did consider the possibility that that was simply her own memory processors breaking down.
When her own wing met with his, extending from a juncture that she was certain was not part of disassembly drone design (Was she certain? It seemed practical enough a feature for newer drones to have, there was no reason to have questioned it the first time around [as she propelled herself into the air and the other drone lunged a wing at her, the longest blade grappling onto her leg and pulling her back to the ground and why didn't it just fly after her?] but why wouldn't a drone just fly after its prey? Their real weapon was speed, when no worker drone could match it), a whirring came from the impetus of the metal beams holding its jigsaw wings together, its joints she now saw being an uncharacteristic red.
She planted a heel into the ground for stability and struck again with her other wing, fast enough to keep it from dodging (but not fast enough to keep her strength concentrated [the moment of hesitation loosening her, both grasp on the battle and anger in her mind], the move only forceful enough to knock it down a few feet away), and she quickly leapt back, taking a moment to compose herself.
And it got up a fourth.
Claws digging into soil and oil leaking from its fingers, it staggered back onto its feet, the whirring growing louder concurrent with its trembling, almost like the contraption were breathing.
It was not particularly strong, it was not even particularly sturdy, but that whirring (damn, that whirring), how it amplified whenever it charged to attack, reverberating off of rocks and metal, the recursion of the noise enough to translate the mechanical to sound like life...
It disconcerted her, the sound of dying machinery, like air gasping out of pneumatic actuators. Like drones at the verge of overheating, except this one just would not burn up and die.
It was more than a computer failed by its own cooling vents, no, it was setting itself up into flames, over and over and over again.
Between metal against metal and robot against snow, no sound escaped it: neither a mumble of complaint nor a groan of pain nor even an acknowledgement of the strange situation. From inside it came only that whirring, a sound that, to X, surpassed the electric gold of an engine and dipped into scarlet, crimson, red, red, and red, all the colours of a human heart.
Maybe that was what made her mitigate her own power. Prototypes like her are created to open doors without stepping into them: she dared not think of a future (the company had made it no secret that one was not planned for her), drifting around the exoplanet only because there was nothing else to do.
Waiting for the snowstorms to erode her into scrap.
(And when all you are is scrap, how do you go about building yourself back up? What do you remake yourself with? The process of entropy was irreversible and inevitable.
[And yet...
to it {whirring}, piece by piece {wires as thread steel as cross brace} it pieced itself together {the machine, the person}, it made himself whole {whirring, whirring, breathing}.
He staggers onwards into the future.]
And yet here he is, dead and alive).
Serial Designation A ( you / real / that is you now ) forces himself up, needing a few seconds to recalibrate his vision ( five eyes perceiving five kinds of information / interpretation of data took an intermediary program / worker drones and disassembly drones had to process sight in different ways ). A splash of oil, sopping wet thing, soaking into his coat, although no pain was explicated:
interpretation of data took an intermediary program;
anything unnecessary Lori had turned off.
And he builds himself back up.
The fight was imprinted into his memory as a succession of chess moves, an interlocking of Tetris blocks looking for a full line to vanish into victory: there was no describing the battle to him in terms of fear (only risk) or exhaustion (only battery) or self-preservation (only Lori), each maneuver transcribed itself into only a numerical code and a generic object class ( hack; / stab; / slash; / slash; / stab; ).
A is designed to treat battles as a series of pure computation.
So why were you so angry?
He lunges forward and she prances back, feet landing on the ground with tasteful accuracy; all A could see as she picked him up and released to let gravity do the work was the elegance of how she navigated her wings; the way she swung her knives and saws reminded him of dance, in all its scientific grace.
A tramples and lumbers and whirs, every action despite the speed of his calculations coming out as reeling and lurching, the gap between perception and interpretation bridged by dynamic electricity. Like a desperate monitor needing a shock ( not a flow / not a current / a shock ) to keep turning itself back on.
Even as he lacerates her arm and sees the black of oil ( the yellow of acid / corroding the white of his shell ), the startled glitch of her vocoder and the way she stumbles back had no sense of faltering, her attempt at steadying herself a dashing pirouette.
She pushes A back and propels herself away to recuperate ( like a cat and a mouse / like a butterfly waltzing on flowers / each attack dripped of delicacy / polite and restrained ). A is only given a heartbeat to think about his next move ( to think about it / not to feel it ) before the command is sparked into his software:
And he gets up a fifth.
And he gets up and he falls down and he gets up and he falls down and the horror of the battle [ she thinks it's a battle ] and the sequence of the game [ he thinks it's a game ] culminates into frustration at the experiment [ sie thinks it's an experiment ], mixed-strategy equilibrium leaving them at a stalemate.
And it angers hir, the agent against them, because as she hits [ but not too hard ] and as she retreats [ but not too far ], the worker drone feels sie is being toyed with, those aureate eyes scrutinising hir creation. Why else hasn't she killed them for? Why else would she glare at Serial Designation A with such pity?
[ Don't look at me. Stop watching me. ]
It's just too much to bear. It's no different than when the other worker drones would look at hir with contempt, lining hir blueprints in red and mocking hir proposals.
And now where were they? Fallen to the murder drones, the way sie said they would, the way they told hir sie was being too paranoid about, and now where were they?
And there they were, Lori and hir creation, and here she was, trying to prove hir wrong again.
Sie studied the disassembly drone [ a real one ], the way she moved with precision, with discernment, and it just made hir think of the ones that killed hir colony, and how even in the carnage, it reminded hir of dance.
The sophistication she displayed even in violence, even as she looked down at A and Lori, made their own clumsiness and desperation more palpable.
No matter how well sie stitched together the various components sie found, no matter how accurately sie reprogrammed the worker drone processors to react to disassembly drone part inputs, no matter how much A persists even after being knocked down, when placed in stark contrast to the real thing, sie was reminded that in the end, she is just some rundown runt repairman pretending to be an inventor.
When it was time to resuscitate him, Lori had deactivated the chip that parsed painful stimulus, and later had turned off A's emotions in general.
Where they were going, he wouldn't need them anymore. Lori was doing enough feeling for the both of them, and now sie was funneling hir rage right into his circuits, the gap between A and Lori bridged by static electricity.
[ Get up right now. ]
And he gets up.
- - - - - - -
X belongs to @limeinaltime. Lori and Serial Designation A are mine.
Had no idea what to caption so bleh, random blurb. I liked the idea of putting in a lot of recursive thoughts to sort of emulate (?) computer processes within processes within processes as well as a sense of confusion in Old Computer Overloading Breaking Down but I have no idea if that reads well or it just looks like I have no idea how to structure a sentence. LMAO
I sort of got the idea based on the fact X is described as being elegant and I thought it would be a funny contrast to Serial Designation ZOMBIE GRGARGRG [ EATS YOUR FACE ] A.
I have no idea how to explain the way A actually thinks so this is just... very vague. I imagine he interprets adverse events not in an emotive Oh Shit I Will Die sense but like one of those neural networks used to test game theories trying to get the agents to play the perfect maneuvers or whatever. Among other quirks in his undead robot programming...
Also Lori having one of them mad scientist moments just doing a silly just being a funny!!! Sie is so quirky xD
No proofread no beta I just wrote this as A Caption no idea why it is so long zany face emoji
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miilktea · a year ago
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i made frog bread :D
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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
@littlebetafefe​ suggested it a looooong time ago and I was intending to post it on Barricade Day but I FORGOT :/
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goldentangerines · a month ago
wake up babe new winter outfit just dropped
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lasemis · 26 days ago
Reverse Unpopular Opinion:
Say something positive about: American Bread
It feeds people, which is always a nice thing
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the-real-mert · 29 days ago
This is quickly becoming the highlight of my week.
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fredmakesbread · a year ago
I put bread in my url but I never post bread, so here you go.
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I made this sourdough last week. The two on the left are potato rosemary, and on the right we have my standard blonde (mostly white flour but not 100%) loaves.
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tallyverse · a year ago
Are there any cursed sandwiches I should avoid? :thinking emoji:
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mintgoth · 2 years ago
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whole wheat sweet molasses brown bread!!! these guys were really fun to make and came out awesome!!
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rolypolyphonic · 21 days ago
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/* Them. Gonna copy-paste their original description/bio under the readmore.
Also A has two wings, I was just too lazy to draw the other one lol.
Voice claims: Lori | A [ A has a damaged vocal box hence he sounds more robotic than the other drones ] */
/* The one on the left is Lori (sie/hir) and the one on the right is “Serial Designation A” [ Trademark Symbol ] (it/he).
Lori is the lone survivor of one of the worker drone colonies. Hir tasks primarily being designing and maintenance, sie is pretty physically weak and flimsy hirself: the only reason sie escaped robo-death is hir small stature making it easy for hir to hide from disassembly drones, and being able to get by with a miniscule amount of… oil, and battery charge, and whatever else it is the drones use.
A, while appearing to be a disassembly drone, is actually one of the dead worker drones from Lori’s colony, with disassembly drone parts cobbled together Frankenstein-style. Lori found most of the parts from the aftermath of the fighting that broke out when hir entire colony was killed, and repairs/replaces them with whatever they can find while traversing the exoplanet, searching for another colony to assimilate with… or any other option that does not lead to certain doom.
A can spout multiple arms and his claws and wings are their greatest defence system; the wings are solely for fighting and it cannot actually fly [ I imagine because the worker drones, or maybe just A in particular, are heavier than the disassembly drones ].
The tail can be used as a weapon for stabbing purposes but its “nanites” are fake: mostly, Lori just tried to make A look like a convincing disassembly drone in hopes that it might scare the other drones off.
Since A is technically “dead,” he does not have much of a personality. A lot of its functions are controlled by Lori hirself [ with hir “glasses” actually being the remote ], although he does have a simple program running that allows it some basic functionality/sentience. While “intelligent” enough the way robots tend to be, he tends to be pretty lacking in emotion. */
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mountains-east · a year ago
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Irish Soda Bread
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lasemis · 2 months ago
There are no bakeries in America 🤣🤣🤣
Don't make fun of them, they're being so brave living without bread
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malleablepersonage · 2 years ago
Who wants fresh bread?
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