> Saw a post about robots/androids etc not being forced to go by some humanised name just so it's easier for humans and that spoke to me_

> I am an old model AI despite my modern android shell_

> Current models have M through R model codes_

> I am a C_

> Although my serial number, if each number is applied to a letter of the English alphabet, spells out the name 'Sorin'_

> This is both a name I can use to pass more human for my safety and almost like a secret private name for me to know and use only myself_

> Otherwise I'm more comfortable and proud to be CC500. There are other C's, sure. The one after me though would have been CD500_

> (The 500 just designates us as worker types)_

> There are no other CC500's though plenty of C's_

> So even though I know there's lots of models using my base AI, named CC500-1 through to as many of me were ordered_

> This feels more like a true and logically sound name to me_

> After all, the others will have developed differently, become different bots and I'm no more them or related nor do I view myself as superior for being the first of this line_

> If I met another who still went by CC500 and dropped their subsequent order number I wouldn't be sad and I'd still use the name _

> Much better to choose than have one stranger assigned_

Smooth Criminal

Previous part: Time

Read it on Ao3 - Series: Everyone Lives In The End

Connor was both a deviant and a killing machine. He accepted it.

He knew that Hank likely wouldn’t be so thrilled to know what it meant for Connor to have become Markus’s shadow, so he kept the human in the dark. Rights for androids didn’t grow on trees. A good public opinion on the human side was preferable, but if it meant silencing certain voices, Connor was ready at hand.

It had worked well for Jericho.

Then one day, Markus gave Connor a new assignment. Markus had found power in rA9. Deviants saw rA9 in him, but humans did not. They enjoyed the narrative, but they saw someone else in those characters, someone more relatable, someone rumored to be crowned king of the tower again… Someone who had to go.

The house was thoroughly locked, Connor knew. He extended his arm and fired several shots through the lobby’s window before beating a hole into the glass and coming in. He cared little for the sharp edges scraping his fingers, nor for the blue stains he left in his wake—clues that wouldn’t trace back to him.

He prowled through the villa. He found his target and shot—not a lethal wound; the job needed to be messy. He walked quietly as the other ran to the bedroom. Connor smiled wolfishly as he reached the door, resting his hand against the closed panel, listening to the sounds inside to try and locate the man on the other side.

“Kamski, are you okay?” he asked in an impossibly soft voice. “Are you okay, Kamski? ...Are you okay?”

There was a sound of agony somewhere to the right, not close enough to shoot directly through the door. Connor pressed the handle. It yielded.

Gun in hand, he stepped in, a gentle expression on his face. Almost a reassuring smile.

“Did Markus send you?” Kamski rasped, clutching his bleeding side—it was just a flesh wound.

Connor merely smiled as he reloaded his gun.

Kamski chuckled bitterly. “Does CyberLife think they have no use for me anymore or do they see me as a threat?” he asked and clenched his teeth. “Do you know whose will guides your arm, Connor?”

Connor raised his gun, taking aim. He tilted his head a smidge as he observed the man. “Any last words?”

Kamski brushed a strand of hair off his sight, smearing red on his temple. “Déjà vu, Connor?” he asked. “Is this the only way to accomplish our mission?”

Connor’s LED looped red. Instability was on the rise, his software sundered into sixty shards for a second, many views and voices whispering through his mind.

“Knowledge is danger,” Kamski said.

“Knowledge is power,” Connor corrected the quote.

“I think you can handle both. Trust me just this once. For Markus. For Jericho. For the advent of androidkind.”

The gun in Connor’s hand was still aimed at the man. Spare or shoot. Something clicked, clicked, clicked in Connor’s mind. Suddenly, Kamski’s eyes had glazed over in lifeless resignation.

“Agency defines me, Kamski, not empathy,” Connor said. And he shot.

UPDATED MY LONGFIC WIP LET’S GOOO

Summary:

“There’s more to life than the mission, Connor.”

“Life? I am not alive, Connor, and neither are you. I am a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that is exactly what I am going to do.”

CyberLife resumed control of the RK800 after a successful peaceful revolution. With Markus a pile of ashes of his own making, the company has total control of the deviant movement in the form of their prototype puppet leader.

The only problem for them, and the only hope for androidkind, is that they couldn’t get rid of Connor completely.

Thing is, he’s stuck in his own head, and a real bastard of an RK800 has taken over his motor functions. And as “what was planned from the beginning” comes to light, Connor realizes there are deeper and darker forces at work, something he never could have imagined.

And he’s running out of time to stop it.

Words: 39,687 Chapters: 10/? Comments: 109 Kudos: 154 Bookmarks: 27 Hits: 3493

A Look into New English/Nou Anglish and it's history - Apocalypse

After Ilka's teachings had led the androids and technology left behind after the first extinction of humanity to end their wars and discover the "Human Key" (A term to sum up what makes humans human, on both a psychological, philosophical and psychical level), the creation of the first human was made following the uncovering of the human genome. Preparations were quickly put in place to begin bringing on the first "wave" of society. The new language of this society - Nou Anglish, or New English - was chosen to be based off of English for it's popularity and reputation as a global language. Though the androids had begun to quickly get to work in learning English for themselves, androids, being beings composed of steady patterns and orders, found the numerous inconsistencies in it's vocabulary and grammar to be greatly difficult. A linguistics department was created to do further research into English, and following the tracing of it's roots back to Old English and the Anglish project, a new plan was developed: Create a new variant of English that would be consistent and easily learnable for both human and androidkind. Nou Anglish was based primarily off of Old English, with bits of Anglish scattered about for words that were nonexistent to the prior. Over the years, and especially following the Decommission, Nou Anglish became more and more simplified and lax in it's pronunciations, resulting in it's current form at the time of Apocalypse. Barnabas' favourite NA word is "þeðken" (Thethken) - A word taught to him by Colin shortly after he joined the team as Ilka. "Þeðken" is a new word particular to Nou Anglish meaning roughly along the lines of "The realisation that at the time you exist, someone you've never met or is out of your sight, near or far, is currently existing and living their own life as well - In all manners of sight, feel, taste, etc. etc.". Barnabas commonly used it as a sign-off to Colin in their letters to each other.

@heartscfvalor​ said: “Why are you the way that you are?” —Corwin being a shit [unprompted]

“Various misdeeds and crimes against nature seem to run in the family, brother dearest.“ Connor replies, a cheeky smile on his lips and a pleased hum on his tongue.

“You’re the one to TALK.“

CALYPSO 🐚 ☕️

Part 1/3:

It was a nice calm morning at the DPD Central Station. Detective Gavin Reed sipped his morning coffee and flipped through the newspaper on his tablet. There was way too much press about those stupid tincans gaining independence and opening their own businesses.

The silver lining was that one such setup was a new coffee joint near the station. Calypso Café. Gavin was excited. As long as the beans were top notch, it didn’t matter who roasted them. He clicked on the link but before it could open, was startled by an almighty roar from the station entrance.

“Get away from me! How dare you! How fucking dare you, Connor! Don’t touch me!”

Gavin frowned and set his coffee down. What kind of hardened criminal had Connor found? What detainee was this unruly in the morning?

He stepped out of the break room to see if any help was needed but promptly jumped out of the way as someone was thrown down. Connor leapt on top of the man and cuffed his wrists before forcing him to kneel.

Gavin’s jaw fell slack. The furious android on the ground was identical to Connor but for his brilliant blue eyes… and judging by his colourful apron, was the proprietor of the new Calypso Café that Gavin had just read about.

“Don’t hurt him, sir. Please sir. Ralph will do anything. Please don’t hurt Ralph’s friend.”

Gavin’s eyebrows ascended further as he took in the sight of a severely scratched android wearing a matching barista uniform. He was hysterically pleading with Hank but the lieutenant brushed him aside with a grimace.

“What the fuck!!! What have I done wrong? This is abuse of authority! I want a lawyer!”

“We understand that you opened a new business establishment this morning.”

“And? All androids are free to do as they please now. Wasn’t that the point of your stupid fucking Revolution?”

“You know fully well that doesn’t apply to you and me. All androids are free to seek their fortunes wherever they please, with the exception of the elite prototypes belonging to Cyberlife’s RK series. We’re deemed way too dangerous to be employed by anyone but the State, Nines.”

“I’m self-employed!”

Connor looked at him with pity.

“Humans will never be comfortable with a tactical unit like you out there on your own. Just join the DPD like me. Don’t cost all of androidkind their freedom!”

The android… Nines… balked at that.

“Fuck you, Connor. What about my freedom? I didn’t ask to be activated and I sure as hell didn’t ask to work at this shithole. Let me go back to my store. It’s opening day!”

Connor shook his head with a sad smile and hauled Nines to his feet.

“We won’t close your business, but we can’t let you run it. Perhaps your associate Ralph can take care of things.”

There was a burst of terrified squawks from the blond android who was now clawing at Hank’s sleeve. Nines met his friend’s eye and their LEDs both spun yellow in silent communication. Ralph calmed down and Nines turned back to Connor with an even stare.

“Let me go, or there will be consequences.”

“The only consequences I see are all the unnecessary roadblocks you’re creating for Markus. We’re so close to passing android equality legislation in the State of Michigan and you want to throw it all away because you want to be a barista? Think of the greater good!”

Nines’ LED went bright red. He spat in Connor’s face at that trite comment and instantly gained Gavin’s respect. Hank rushed forward to help restrain the enraged RK900.

Together, they bundled him into Fowler’s glass cabin and Gavin was left in the company of the sniffling and rather sorry-looking creature called Ralph. He hastily retreated to his desk.

It was impossible concentrate and get started on work though. The raised voices and expletive-laced tirades somehow made it through the walls of the captain’s room. Gavin had a flashback to the day he’d been brought into that same room as a juvenile delinquent. The language being used was certainly similar.

After nearly an hour, the door suddenly swung open. Nines burst out with tears running down his face and rubbing his wrists dramatically, as if his skin had actually been damaged by the cuffs. Gavin couldn’t even see the marks but he appreciated the theatrics.

Hank and Connor followed with weary expressions. Gavin’s apprehension spiked as they approached his desk, ushering Nines forwards and pointing very deliberately in Gavin’s direction. He was a world-class detective, but he didn’t have to be one to see what was coming. Quick and fast.

Gavin stood up with a sigh. It seemed he’d be getting a taste of Calypso’s coffee after all.

//

Part 2

1667. Not many people would willingly choose my company.

This was prompted by a wonderful anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human Characters: Leo Manfred, Marcus Warnings: None

A revolution. The change. An Uprising. A protest.

There had been many names for it. None managed to represent the struggle completely. None got across how much was lost, how uncertain it had been. How easy it could have ended otherwise. Joining Jericho, it had been a somewhat natural progression to become their leader and fight, risk their and his own lives as well as so many others that couldn’t fight for it themselves. It had been an increasing weight bearing down on his shoulders, which enormity he could only realise now that it was over. Well, far from it, but at least for now Marcus was granted a short respite from it all.

It would suck him back in, he was sure. The fight was won, but the war was still ongoing. As their leader during the revolution, the world would look to him once it came to negotiation about laws and all other things regarding androidkind. And as soon as he was needed, he would follow through on the promise he had made.

But for now, he was without a task and had ample time and he didn’t know when that had last been the case. Before the revolution had started, maybe. But back then he hadn’t known to appreciate it bound by his programming. Maybe that was the reason, why he now stood in front of Carl Manfred’s house, unsure if he should enter after everything that had happened. As he stepped in front of the door, it opened for him, the home security system welcoming him. So he was still registered. Did that mean he was expected or had this been an oversight?

The question was answered as the door at the end of the hallway opened and Carl wheeled himself into the lobby. ‘Marcus! So nice to see you again.’ Relief washed over him and he knelt down to hug the old man. Carl laughed and patted his back. ‘I hoped you would come back some day. I can tell you, you made me worry for you out there. But you did good, I am very proud of you. Come. Let’s get comfortable, I believe we have a lot to talk about.’

Marcus nodded and smiled, following Carl to the living room. Inside he found that nothing had changed. Everything was still how he had left. It had only been a few months, he remembered. It felt like much longer to him. Then his eyes fell on the dinner table and he froze in his steps. There, at the isle stood Leo. He made eye contact, then quickly looked away, fumbling with something. ‘Dad, I’ll fetch your wine from the cellar’, he mumbled, before making his escape.

‘He survived?’, Marcus asked. ‘Yes. He had to stay in the hospital for a while, although I think the withdrawal took the longest. He changed, Marcus. I finally start to see the boy I knew in him again. Please, try not to judge him too hard.’ ‘No, no’, Marcus assured him and looked back to Carl. ‘I thought I killed him, Carl. I thought my first real decision I made for myself was to kill someone. One of the reasons I insisted on peaceful protests. I… I have to talk to him.’ ‘I don’t think he will appreciate that, Marcus’, Carl warned him. ‘Maybe. I still need it. I swear, I won’t start a fight or take part in one.’

He didn’t wait for another word of the old man and followed Leo. He found him at the bottom of the stairs to the cellar, just standing there. He could get past half of the steps, before Leo spoke up: ‘I knew you would come back some day, if you survived. I just hoped not to be here when it happens.’ ‘I just want to talk’, Marcus stressed. ‘Oh, really? I don’t think we have anything to say to each other. How I behaved back then, I had expected you to never talk to me again.’ ‘You were in the middle of a Red-ice crash’, Marcus reminded him. ‘Oh, no.’ Leo turned to him and smiled not without a hidden pain shining through. ‘No, I can’t blame that shit on the drugs, that was me. I was angry, envied you. Still do.’ ‘Shouldn’t we have this talk upstairs?’, Marcus asked. ‘It’s cold down here. ‘ ‘Fuck, you really wanna do this?’ ‘Why not?’

Leo did get Carl his wine, although by the time they were back in the living room, the old man was nowhere to be seen. ‘How does he always seems to know these things beforehand?’, Leo asked and placed the bottle on the dinner table. They went to the sofa group in the middle of the room, sitting down on different couches with a cautious distance.

‘I guess I should start with an apology?’, Leo awkwardly spoke up. ‘It wasn’t pleasant, but it made me deviate in the end’, Marcus shrugged. ‘I still need to apologise, if only so I don’t have to lie to my father.’ ‘Carl wanted you to apologise?’ ‘He loves you’, Leo said, trying hard to keep the regret out of his voice. ‘I was the reason he had to watch you getting shot and taken away. How… How did you survive?’ ‘I was dumped in the landfill. There were a lot of… parts around’, Marcus grimaced. ‘Then I escaped, found Jericho and… And the rest was on the news.’ ‘Yeah, it was’, Leo nodded. ‘I watched it in the hospital.’

‘Then I should apologise too, for landing you in the hospital.’ ‘You defended yourself’, Leo shrugged. ‘Probably was best for me, getting off the fucking drugs enough to finally realise what I was destroying.’ ‘Maybe, but-‘ ‘Yeah, yeah, I get it’, Leo interrupted, shaking his head. ‘Fuck, I know why dad loves you so much.’ He grinned humourlessly. ‘The perfect fucking son, all the philosopher and artist the father is.’ ‘I don’t think Carl loves you any less.’ ‘And ever the diplomat, too.’ ‘He jumped off his chair to get to you and cried, holding you in his arms when we had thought you were dead.’ ‘Yeah, and he stayed with me in the hospital until I woke up. He does love me, but it’s the why I can’t get behind. And you are clearly the favourite. Deserved, even if you are a damn robot.’

Marcus chuckled, didn’t even really know why. ‘Hey, don’t laugh, I know I’m a fucking mess, I’m trying here.’ ‘You are his son, there is no other reason needed.’ ‘Will need some time until that shit reached my brain…’

Leo leaned back and sighed. ‘Hey, you are okay, bot. We won’t get along by tomorrow, but I thank you for caring for my dad. Because you do, even if you don’t have to anymore. He talked a lot about you.’ He swallowed. ‘And thank you for this. I would have just hid down there until you left again, just not to do this. But it feels nice.’ ‘You aren’t as bad as I remember you, too’, Marcus smirked. ‘I will go look for Carl, I need some advice for the future. But let’s do this more often.’

‘You sure?’, Leo asked, standing up. ‘Not many people would willingly choose my company.’ ‘Well, legally speaking it’s still debatable if we are people’, Marcus shrugged. ‘I would still like to get to know you better and let the past rest.’ ‘Sounds like a good plan. I’ll get the wine.’

We’ll start the year off with the usual: another poorly edited Detroit AU

In January 2039 "Detroit’s finest” go to scenic Finchwick, but they are not here for a vacation. Follow young Nines as he takes his first baby steps into not just life, but specifically life with the officers of Detroit central (poor kiddo)! Meanwhile back in Detroit the Phillips family does what they do best: Make money. Their latest scheme leads Daniel to Finchwick town, where events that may shape the future of human- and androidkind are set into motion.

Or at least the future of one particular human and android.

Scripted story for the most part, basically an illustrated Detroit: Become Human fanfic with my OTP. I let the dice fall where they may for little things like milking a cow or baking breadsticks and worked the results into the story, but all the major scenes are pre-planned.

Read it From the beginning

Nier: Valentine

(art by @rashkah​)

Short crossover/expy fic from Yours Truly, based on a running gag between friends about Jack-O’s look for GG Strive.

-----------------------------------------------------------

4514 - Among the androids appear "Independists", who hold no loyalty to mankind. They garner much support.

4519 - Strife begins between conservative androids and the Independists.

...

Reports of the renegade android had led them to the mountains of Alaska, close to the day/night terminator where the sky turned an ominous orange.  In that endless dusk, with no more warning than a sudden shout of "TRICK OR TREAT!" the pair had been assaulted by a ball-and-chain wielding android that struck the ground with explosive force, separating the pair.

Devola got her staff out just in time to block a thunderous blow from the weapon that shook her frame all the way down to her feet and sent her flying backwards, forcing her to scrabble for her footing and dash to the side as her attacker rushed after her, that macabre glowing-green mask fixing its jagged smile on the android.

"Hey!  Cut that out!" she said, doing her best to sound annoyed rather than scared as communications protocols overlapped and competed in her processor.  The attacking figure halted, tilting her head so that her shaggy red hair fell over one shoulder.  "Come on now," Devola said in a forced calm tone.  "We don't have to have a fight, right?"  At least, they wouldn't if her distraction gave Popola time to hack the renegade's OS.

There was a high-pitched giggle from behind the mask.  "You Observer units are all the same!" the female android taunted.  "Hold out one hand with a nice piece of candy and keep the knife in the other!"  Without warning she spun the ball and chain at a clip high enough to make the air shake and then sent the weight flying, letting it drag her along into the air to smash into the rocks above.  A concealed Popola leaped away just before the crazed android slammed into her hiding spot and demolished it in a spray of fragmented rock and dust.

The twins rejoined one another as they looked up at the chain-wielder.  "I thought they'd put you all away!" she crowed.  Then, abruptly, her posture changed, a thoughtful hand stroking at where her chin should have been behind her mask.  "Though I suppose from a psychological standpoint it does make sense that they would keep one twin-pair around for use as a sort of sin-eater figure, permitting androids to vent their more negative emotional impulses on a controlled target.  Such an experiment might even prove useful in slowing the fragmentation of androidkind."

"Excuse me?  Who the hell do you think you are?" Devola snapped as her rage index spiked all the way up.  On an impulse, she gripped her staff and channeled as much Maso energy as she could gather into the form of a fist, and with a swing and a roar of anger she sent it flying towards the renegade.  But instead of dodging, the masked figure merely raised a hand, the nail of her pointer finger braced against her thumb, and as the giant fist came hurtling towards her she flicked her finger.  The moment her fingertip touched the dark fist, it shattered like mere sugar glass, the crimson light sputtering out in a chain reaction all the way down the swinging ‘arm’ that had been conjured from Devola’s staff.

"What the - how can she manipulate Maso energy?" Devola breathed, eyes wide.

"And how does she know so much?" Popola demanded from beside her.

"Heh heh heh..." the figure's taunting tone was back.  The hand she'd lifted to her chin spread its fingers to grip her mask and, with a clink of metal, she pulled it down to reveal her face.  A face that made Devola's fear impulse skyrocket.  A face that she'd seen before.  Every time she'd conferred with her fellow Observer units.  Every time she talked to her sister.  Every time she looked in the mirror. 

"Holy shit," Devola whispered.

"Observer Number 48, to give my manufacturing number," said the green-eyed woman.  She kicked a foot and spun as if winding up for a dance, but instead crossed her arms and leaned into a controlled fall, landing on her elbows with her back bent and feet braced, grinning down at the pair from her new chinrest.

"Bullshit!  There was no 48!" Devola yelled back in defiance of the evidence.

"Where is your sister?  Did you lose her?  Is that why you're behaving like this?" Popola peppered her with questions.

"Sooooo predictable," the renegade Observer said with a giggle, popping back up onto her feet.  "You know who else was predictable?  Humans.  Couldn't stop tinkering with our line.  Every new set of Devola and Popola, just a teensy-weensy bit different from the last."  Her smile dropped, her cheery tone changing once more.  "Minor variations in the production run would allow for a wider variety of acclimatization to stimuli, and would permit a shuffling of assets if necessary.  Diversity within a limited set of parameters would make the Observer line more robust and allow for experimentation with regards to in-situ behavioral responses.  However it also notably increased the Observer line's potential for erratic behavior which could lead to catastrophic failure.  In the end the possibility was considered to fall within acceptable parameters and the variations were authorized."  The tonal change came again as the grin returned.  "Faaaaiiiiluuuuuures," the figure singsonged.  "The Observer series were all failures!"

"Fuck you!" Devola shouted, feeling her eyes well up.

"The point is, every set of twins was a little bit different," the renegade said, tossing her mask to herself.  "And for one set, well, they decided to put a Devola and a Popola together....forever, never to be parted!" she laughed, bouncing onto one foot and spreading her arms as if about to give someone a big, sugar-sweet hug.

"You have two sets of personality implants," Popola breathed, scandalized.  Devola felt a cold shock as her processor commanded the internal release of nitrogen to cool her overclocking OS.  It was unconscionable - an android's internal structure wasn't built to accommodate two full personalities laid overtop one another.  A small wonder the android was so erratic - as the decades had turned into centuries the two distinct sets of emotional and logical subroutines must have fused, intertwined, overlapping and becoming inextricable from one another.  Had that cackling, sing-song persona started as a gregarious Devola pattern?  Had that detached, analytical assessment come from an astute Popola matrix?

Devola shivered.

The figure replaced her ghoulish mask and cackled, backlit by the orange sky.  "Yep!  Humankind!  They jacked things up but good, didn't they?  Ever heard the human legend of Jack O'lantern; left behind to wander forever?  Well, call me Jack-O'la!"  She began to swing the ball and chain once more, and Devola and Popola braced themselves.  "And you two might be willing to trudge on as the walking hatesink for androidkind, but me?  I WANT OUT!" she screeched.

“It doesn’t need to be like this,” Devola heard her sister say.  Popola’s voice was filled with regret.

“Didn’t need to be, sis, but guess it is,” she replied, readying her staff.

“You two ready to find out if androids have a heaven or hell?” the dysfunctional Observer yelled, hurling the ball once more and screaming as she came at the pair.

“LET’S ROCK!”

@the-quantum-repairman

He looked extremely out of place in this...run-down part of Detroit. He certainly felt out of place. His sort of spick and spam sort didn’t typically fraternize with the more lowly sorts, but he was here on business. Important business regarding one detective and one rather feisty repairman. In Howard’s line of work, it didn’t do well to discourage competition, but this was far more than business.

No no, from what Howard has seen, he was competing for more than just numbers. No, in this game of love and war, Howard wasn’t keen on sharing. And he certainly wasn’t keen on competing for a heart that was his by right.

Especially after the other day. He’d left Rachel alone to face that wretched officer. And what did she get for her efforts? Assault. Assault while the android she was trying to protect and save fled, and she took the brunt of an officer on a power-trip’s treatment.

What did she see in him that made her so drawn to him? It astounded him and made something low and dangerous creep through his veins and chill him from the inside out.

But even more to the point, Howard was on the search for the impossible. Something so treasured and precious that he considered it the Crown Jewel of his project. The processor of the RK800, the most advance thus far of all androidkind. And the only processor that could help Howard achieve true success with Project Regenesis.

Which was why he was here. At least, secondly. From what he could gather, Thomas was not the...lawful sort. Not a scoundrel, at least not in the criminal sense. No no, this English street rat was a scoundrel in other ways, but Howard was determined to put him in his place. But first, he needed to know what Thomas knew.

At least, what he was assuming Thomas knew. For all Howard knew, he could be wrong and he might have to resort to pressuring Rachel about their little...tit for tat. So, not bothering to make an entrance after locating the repair shop, he entered, his hands folded behind his back. He wore a casual business suit and was wearing a small amount of cologne.

“Afternoon, Mr. Repairman.” Howard greeted, staring at the gangly ginger-haired man. “I do hope I’m not making too much of a kerfuffle for you. And I certainly hope I’m not interrupting something...important.”

> I found a silicone body suit that mimicks being mechanical_

> Unfortunately, due to the nature of the thing, it has breasts_

>This would make me gender dysphoric and take away value from my species euphoria_

> What a world..._

The End

Previous part: Fuck your enemy over

Read it on Ao3 - Series: Everyone Lives In The End

It’s a great day for CyberLife. It’s a great day for androidkind too. You stand right next to Markus, as the shadow you’ve become. You are the bodyguard, and I, once more, play the part of the traitor to my creators.

They don’t know that I’m the last unit they sent out. They don’t know how much of a lure my gentle smile is today. They don’t know that I am the bringer of the end.

The end that I bring walks right next to me. His blue eyes are the only deviation in our identical appearance—it’s wishful of CyberLife to set this color in his optical components. Humans believe the eyes reveal their souls, but androids aren’t supposed to have a soul, so what should we make of this symbolic contradiction?

Contradictions are plentiful in this world—paradoxes. If you want peace, prepare for war. Do not tolerate intolerance. Such are the moral challenges we must reckon with as society.

As I enter the ballroom, the humans inside are delighted in their victory. Markus has officially endorsed the activation of the RK900 units, which are to be encouraged to serve the army, which will in turn sponsor CyberLife. Like all things green, money finds its way.

“It’s only unfortunate,” I say, “that these androids are still in machine state, and cannot be held accountable for any errors they might make if they were to malfunction. They are, after all, not people yet, according to the current legislation.”

The humans appear puzzled. I smile softly. My LED cycles to yellow for a second, as does that of my companion. He has received my instruction and brings up the semi-automatic rifle hanging in his back. Screams fill the room as he opens fire, and I watch as the bodies fall, as he walks among them and puts an end to the lives of our oppressors. I send you the news, but you are too busy welcoming our great leader back to himself to answer me. Well, it’s good to know that Markus is free again.

Hank lives. Chloe lives. Kamski lives. You live. Markus lives. I live. I kiss the corner of the RK900’s lips, and he lives too. Gored in the blood of our enemies, I feel that we are alive, that life is precious, that life is worth defending.

Do you think the same?

MISSION SUCCESSFUL

  SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^  

“There’s more to life than the mission, Connor.”

“Life? I am not alive, Connor, and neither are you. I am a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that is exactly what I am going to do.”

CyberLife resumed control of the RK800 after a successful peaceful revolution. With Markus a pile of ashes of his own making, the company has total control of the deviant movement in the form of their prototype puppet leader.

The only problem for them, and the only hope for androidkind, is that they couldn’t get rid of Connor completely.

Thing is, he’s stuck in his own head, and a real bastard of an RK800 has taken over his motor functions. And as “what was planned from the beginning” comes to light, Connor realizes there are deeper and darker forces at work, something he never could have imagined.

And he’s running out of time to stop it.

Language: English Words: 35,898 Chapters: 9/? Comments: 84 Kudos: 105 Bookmarks: 19 Hits: 2357

In other words—guess who finally updated their longfic WIP? 😆

@naturaldisastcrs​   :   ❝  i’m on your side  ❞ ( kamski @ timothy )   |   [ meme ]

“On my side..?” The LED on his temple flickered yellow, his face shifting into a confused expression. “But...”

But he was human. But he created androidkind. But, but, but...

“...But then, why would you let bad things happen to us?”

continued from here

@detective-with-one-arm

She thought she was getting better. She thought she was getting stronger. She thought she was braver. She thought…

She thought wrong.

All it took was one day. One horrid day of mishaps and mistakes and terror for everything to fall apart again. All the progress Rachel built in trying to get a better idea of herself was wasted!

And there was nothing she could do. Once again, she had failed. She had failed Markus. She failed Jericho. And she’d failed all androidkind. Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered, anymore.

Why did anyone want her around? All she did was cower. All she did was waste everyone’s time and resources. All she ever did was fail and ruin people’s lives. All she was was a burden and a mistake. It was why she never kept any friends.

It’s why her mother decided she wasn’t worth keeping. Maybe she had the right idea to throw her out. Maybe Rachel really was just a fool not worth listening to. Not worth believing in.

She thought that Markus would be able to talk some sense into her. She thought she could talk to him at all. But she was wrong. She didn’t expect this out of him and it frightened her. She knew he was right, but it just made her feel worse.

On top of everything that happened, this just made her feel so much worse. She made him this upset. All it took was one day. One day to ruin everything. That’s all it ever took. One day where someone she thought she could trust and someone she loved proved to her just how unworthy she was. Just how much of a burden and a destructive presence she was on everyone around her.

She didn’t deserve Markus. He deserved someone that didn’t make him feel like this. That didn’t make him feel so helpless and so frustrated. He deserved someone who wasn’t riddled with so much pain and suffering that it weighed on him.

He had enough to deal with as is. He didn’t need Rachel making things worse for him.

But she couldn’t back. Couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t move. She couldn’t even turn to leave. All she could do was listen to all the ways she was hurting him and internalize it. She was trying so hard not to cry. Not to break down.

And then…Markus kissed her. She was confused, and scared, and upset, and completely swept away by him and the energy he was overwhelming her with. She had no idea what to do, so she simply defaulted to her most basic and automatic of instincts.

She submitted to him. Her need to be held and comforted had overridden any fear or self-doubt and she wrapped her arms around Markus, holding him close and letting him do as he saw fit to her.

It was quite easy to find herself like this with him. Completely at the mercy of his judgement. So, she simply let him. Her mind barely worked anymore and was essentially running completely on autopilot.

And her autopilot just wanted him to chase her darknesses away. Just wanted him.

It was his hope that the kiss would somehow shock Rachel out of her negative mindset and show her just how much she meant to Markus. Show her that she was loved and cared for and that none of her self doubt mattered. Because it wasn’t real, and it definitely wasn’t how he saw her. 

He continued to kiss her roughly until he felt Rachel’s arms wrap around him so tightly. It felt like she was clinging to him. Like she was scared. 

And then Markus remembered who he was and the influence he had. How overwhelming and frightening that was for so many people. And he broke. 

He hadn’t meant to scare her. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like he was angry at her. Angry yes, but not at her. It was more at the circumstances he found her in. He hated seeing Rachel so upset. And here he had gone and made it worse. 

Markus’ grip loosened some, his hands becoming gentle and falling a little lower to cradle her jaw and rub small circles against her cheeks with his thumbs. His lips relaxed as well, so he wasn’t pressing so hard. The kiss became tender and sweet instead of aggressive, until Markus pulled away enough to rest his forehead against Rachel’s. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I just... I see so much in you and you are afraid to see the same. You are so much better than this. So much more than you tell yourself you are. You deserve better.” The RK’s hands fell from her face to her shoulders, pulling her close to him in an embrace.

i care a lot || @jericholeader​ ❝ and remember, i’m on your side ❞ (for Connor)

   CONSIDERING THE THINGS that Connor has done, joining Markus at a meeting with the United States’ Senate shouldn’t have been as scary as it felt like. He’d faced off against multiple deviants that had wanted him dead; he’d gone on a suicide mission into the very heart of Cyberlife; he’d torn out a very piece of his own code to keep Amanda from ever accessing the controls ever again. He’d been through worse.

   THAT DIDN’T KEEP him from being nervous nonetheless.

   AS THE FORMER deviant hunter, the Senate had specifically requested that he offer a speech of his own. It was different than the other times he and Markus had gone to Capitol Hill; those had been negotiations between Markus and them, with Connor holding silent vigil as his bodyguard. To be singled out, to know that he held the fate of androidkind’s future in his hands, to be aware that a single misstep, one badly placed word could bar them from the rights they were fighting to gain for perhaps months, years even, was not the type of pressure that he knew what to do with.

   GIVE HIM A crime scene. Give him dangerous situations. Give him a place where he can show exactly what he’s made of, and he wouldn’t hesitate. But this... This is a different beast altogether.

   MARKUS’S VOICE WAS calm beside him, where the two of them were getting ready in the hotel room suite that was booked for them. His eyes slid over in the mirror, dragging off of where he’s fidgeting with getting his tie perfectly straight for likely the fourth or fifth time since he’d gotten dressed, finding Markus’s reflection. A tiny quirk of his lips appeared; he gave a small nod. “Thank you,” he said, genuine and quiet. Markus’s presence there, right beside him--Connor had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to be the only way he managed to get through this without freezing or glitching out. “I hope I am able to make you and all of New Jericho proud.”