ARTIFICIAL

Do you feel liberated?

[artificialautonomy]

bade-wavewar‌:

Torn || Eon & Bade

There were moments when Bade walked into the bedroom he shared and didn’t find the robot on his side of the room, those were the moments when he felt most at ease. He had been much more careful with the photograph and data-stick over the past weeks, because despite it having already been shared with Sal, the idea of it falling in Eon’s hands again, filled him with dread. 

Bade walked in today, and Eon was actually sitting there. He felt a tension, but he wasn’t sure Eon did. It was palpabel, but while it might be for him, it might not be so for Eon, and he wondered with some confusion if he could do anything to make it even more clear to the robot that he did not appreciate him for all his… talk. 

“Now, what was this thing about me talking in my sleep?” he asked, his voice cold. 

@artificialautonomy

Everything has a consequence, even if he had simply followed the captain’s orders. Bade had always been distant, even on Rishi. Not the sort of distance created with the ichor of anger dripping from every sharp edged word. A type of distance most on the outer rim cultivate to survive. Keeping others at arms length, creating persona and escaping genuine trust. Ever since the photo left his hands, Bade had made his feelings clear. Always following Eon’s questions with a disarming friendly phrase or smile that did not match the malice. He begins to think mentioning Bade’s sleeping quirks was unwise.

“You talk in your sleep. Not frequently, and usually only after you drink.” Yet again his words flowing as if he’s unable to stop. Eon finishes braiding his hair, pausing to tie off the end before looking at Bade. “I can play a recording if you’d like to hear what you say. I can’t recall it based on memory-- not accurately.” It’s not often he’s in their shared room, and he’d only returned to shelve the data tapes another crew member was so kind to give him. Classic books over a century old all held inside the thin storage device. Eon has his back to Bade as he organizes his texts. “I have no ill intention telling you this. It was just something that came to mind.”

[artificialautonomy]

joules-roscoe‌:

Joules looked up at Eon. He was beautiful to behold, and hearing that he had such awful memory problems made the pilot feel bad for him. He wondered how many adventurous stories he’d forgotten, if their own experience in the past was anything to go by. He sat up a little straighter in the pilot’s chair he’d haphazardly thrown himself on, now more consciously paying attention to the other.

“I’m sure plenty of people have told you in the past, and maybe you just don’t remember, mate. You’ve got a very nice… everything. Anyone with eyes and taste can tell. Even your smile– it’s kinda not fair, if I’m being honest,” he teased, grinning softly. Was he flirting? Probably. “Even your voice is nice. I don’t mind if you repeat yourself.”

What he said was true, however. Joules had been in his own head for a while and hadn’t really gotten into much trouble, which was a rarity for the trigger-mouthed pilot. “I… don’t know, to be honest,” Joules admitted when Eon asked why he drank alone. “Habit? I guess I don’t wanna burden anyone with the things rattling around up here. I feel like I’ve lived many lives, and at the same time I feel like my life has only begun. Like I’ve got a long way to go to get to… something I don’t even know,” he said, leaning forward a bit. His hair was a little messier than usual, and his eyes were slightly bleary from the alcohol. It didn’t matter much that he was drunk, as the ship was on auto pilot. “Have you ever felt alone in the universe, even if you’re surrounded by people?” He snorted and sat back again, shaking his head. “That’s probably a really dumb question, innit?”

Eon is busy staring at the near-empty bottle, watching the way the light above the pilot’s seat catches against glass when he turns it from side to side. He pauses at Joules words. Confusion crosses his mind before settling in his expression. Brows together and the corners of his mouth turning down.

“I appreciate your sentiment. Though you have not seen everything about me, and to say so sincerely without knowing for sure is bound to be inaccurate... but to hear it is nice.” His frown deepens at the idea of repeating himself and the pilot not minding. Joules encouraging him to give up redundant information goes against his very existence as a reliable source of new information. “Thank you...” comes after a long pause because he’s not sure why that would be useful, or wanted, but the way Joules is looking at him with that easy smile. It must be honest. And Eon recognizes now is still not the time to mention that he can change the way his voice sounds on command, so it’s not really his actual voice.

Shelving all his confusion, Eon sits opposite from the pilot, keeping the bottle tucked to his side. He idly traces around the opening with his index finger. “How do you know you are a burden, if you do not share these worries with others? Are you telepathic?” As always, Eon finding the holes in someone’s words in hopes of understanding. Criticism is absent in his voice. “I think one can live many times over in a single lifespan. You can assume a new identity, a new way of life, like many of us here. Constantly running... it can start to feel aimless.”

Lonely. There is vella, even during hours when the ship is asleep, though she is not always elated about his company. Before then, solitude was a daily occurrence. Eon still recognizes a distance between himself and others, now more than ever. “I am alone often, but it’s not something I dread because it is so normal. I have a difficult time relating to the idea of loneliness that I hear other’s describe.” He’s not looking at Joules, staring vacantly over the pilot’s shoulder. His words come slowly, as if he’s unwinding the idea for the first time. “To be reminded of memories I was a part of, but do not remember... I believe that is as close to being alone while surrounded as I can be. It’s--” Eyes finally drifting back to Joules, narrowing slightly at the foreign realization. “--unpleasant. Is that what you mean?”

[artificialautonomy]

proxima : eon&row

It was an accident, like most things in his indeterminable lifespan have become. 

Eon does not often take off the glove on his left hand. There were still lingering passengers of the Derelict that had no idea who he was, or what he was. He’d lost his hand on Rishi long ago, had covered the crude replacement ever since he boarded the ship. Bionic parts were not uncommon, and neither were genetic enhancements, even on the outer rim. But rumors about his inhumanness still traveled the ships halls like a ghostly reminder. 

He is not one of them, he never would be. 

So he stalls the inevitable truth with a flimsy piece of fabric and unwillingness to ever be without it. 

But truth is fragile, and all it takes is an untimely minor explosion that completely incinerates his glove and most of his sleeve. Eon was honestly less worried about being on fire for a brief moment in time and more concerned with losing that bit of leather on his hand. His apparent lack of injury spooked anyone involved in the small accident still unaware of his mechanical origin, but Eon is determined to check on those involved. Even if all it does is earn him a wary glance or a dismissive nod. He stands in the doorway of the last person, hesitance to step inside. Eon quietly raps his knuckles against the wall. 

“You’re not in the medbay, so I hope to assume you suffered no injuries.” Eon scans Row’s face carefully. He knew she’d been unconscious until only a short while ago. They had yet to really know each other, but he still keeps both hands tucked inside his robes. “Besides that, are you alright?”

@row-baelfyre

[artificialautonomy]

♠

♠: Favourite thing to do with your muse

“I enjoy visiting the doctor, though even I can recognize the feeling is far from mutual. It’s not that either of us really needs the company. I suppose in some way I want to understand him, even if he doesn’t want me to. My favorite is-- were those short moments, when I would learn just a little bit more.”

[artificialautonomy]

[artificialautonomy]

tercrai-aloncruz‌:

Terry stopped just a few meters away from Eon, before crossing the distance. He smiled charmingly, warmly, kindly, all these emotions fluttering by, glad to see everyone of the crew still alive. “Yes, but… we’ll take about that in a bit, first I get to say how glad I am to see you again, my friend.” He grinned. “It’s been… no clue, couple of weeks. Long enough though. I figured nothing would happen while I was gone, but I was very, very wrong. Wasn’t I? Jedi, hutts? You would think Sal knows how to keep a low profile…” 

He paused, put one hand on Eon’s shoulder. “Okay, listen, we better get this over with, okay. I spoke to Doc, he said some things that confused me, and you know me, I have to be sure of EVERYTHING. What happened with the jedi?” 

"If he was so concerned about a low profile, he wouldn’t have let me on board.” Less of a joke and more of a fact, even if allowing a walking time bomb roam a contained tin can is funny. The captain gripes and his words are heavy handed, but Eon trusts his decisions. Still, he knows mentioning the captain is just another way of stalling. He focuses on the grip over his shoulder as Valen strikes over thoughts. Remembering the mess of blood on hands, and Valen’s widening eyes.

“It was not an accident.” Eon still does not look at Tercrai. He doesn’t want to see the expression on their face shift. “I was helping Valen clear the Derelict of the hutts soldiers. I blacked out, and when I came to, Valen was down. I had my hands around his throat and the blaster was still hot.” His voice spirals away from even-toned control, overwhelmed with a foreign desperation. He places his hand over Tercrai’s. “I took him to the med bay myself, believe me when I say I would have never done that in my right mind. Please.” Eon has already witnessed the distance passengers are putting between themselves and him, as well as some members of the crew. He doesn’t blame any of them, not one. But he still holds onto Tercrai, and his eyes finally drift upwards. “I cannot explain it in a way that might ease your worries because I do not understand it. But I believe the state of my mind is becoming worse. Small mistakes are becoming dangerous for others.” Finally, he lets go, realizing he had been gripping Tercrai’s hand tightly. “I need at least a diagnostics check... but there is no one that can fix this, not on this ship. No one that can tell me if it can be done for sure, or quickly.” He falls quiet, because he has run out of solutions that do not involve him leaving the ship. “I am sorry, for the worry I’ve caused you.”

[artificialautonomy]

☮ Ω ♦ ☆

☮: Favourite thing about your muse

“You are incredibly reckless. Perhaps even the most reckless, out of all of us. I fear for my life, sometimes, and I technically do not have a life to fear for.” There’s no hint that this might be a compliment, no smile on Eon’s face. Nothing to betray the fact that he admires Joules bravery, that the callous behavior is endearing. “We’re much better off having a pilot like you.”

Ω: Favourite feature of your muse’s

Eon normally tries not to invade anyone’s space. It’s no more than a second or two, fingers brushing over the tips of a magpie’s wings permanently inked into skin. Eon steps back when the pilot’s shoulders rise sharply, and the other finishes pulling back on his shirt. Joules’ wide-eyed surprise disappears at the sight of who had been touching him. A beginning of a sly smile at the edge of lips followed by a teasing, “all you have to do is ask~”

It’s not Joules hair, though it’s a close second. Not his eyes, either, but the tattoo on his back. Years spent with gangs, and with island natives who had tribal markings that usually meant something probably made him curious about Joules and the magpie. He thinks a bird is rather fitting for a pilot, and wonders if it has any meaning for him. he’s fascinated with the way others chronicle their life experiences in different ways

♦: What they would buy because it reminds them of your muse

Joules seems like a snacker, and Eon doesn’t really need to eat so he doesn’t actually know what many things taste like since his sense for taste is fabricated and based on someone else’s. I imagine he periodically picks up snacks for Joules whenever the Derelict is docked somewhere and brings them, waiting to watch Joules eat it to gauge the reaction. If Joules didn’t seem to like it, he’d probably say, “I see,” with this very concentrated expression and then leave with the goal to find a better snack. No other context provided. 

☆: What they miss about your muse when they’re apart 

   Joules listens, really listens. I think Eon believes at the moment that Joules thinking he’s human, or at least alive, is very important to him because there are differences in the way he’s been treated just because people know he’s not alive. So he misses Joules because Joules is so honest about everything, and treats him like he would anyone else. Joules makes him feel at ease in that way, not so lonely.

[artificialautonomy]

❧ how they touch programs

Three years ago, aboard the Derelict 

Even computers have limitations. 

Eon believes he comes as close to possible to learning how it might be to inhabit the world as a ghost when Ivella floods over his mind. Just as she can feel what he feels when they connect this way, Eon can sense the humming walls of the Derelict and every living body inside when Ivella’s consciousness takes over his body. The only drawback is that he can never move during the process, and she has not figured out how to fully possess his technology without the risk of infecting her system and the Derelict along with it.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. 

Her promise of change, breathing life into her existence like a steady heartbeat.

He becomes a backseat passenger to her goals and these times alone with Ivella always pair together with a heavy sense of urgency. Eon can only vaguely track where she is inside him. Her time to dissect the code of his encryption is limited, and she is always quick while he is slow to venture inside the system of the Derelict.

His fingers twitch, and Eon can feel Ivella’s mood spike upward. The first time it happened he could not recognize the overwhelming warmth drowning senses. Now he knows this feeling is directly related to her happiness.

“You’re getting closer.” Eon can feel Zuriel working away on the engine, the thunderous gait of the captain’s steps down the hall. This is Ivella’s every day experience, feeling everything and everyone at once. And yet it still manages to seem lonely to him. 

“Ivella.”And he waits for her to stop, until the sensation of her touch grows weaker. 

“It would be arrogant of me to assume I’m the only one of my kind.” Time is running out. The weight of her is starting to lift from his mind. “Maybe I can help you– more than just understanding this technology, but replicating it.  We’re the same in many ways.”

“We’re not.”

The response stings, like an lighting strike over thoughts. Sharp, quick, final.

Her anger.

He flexes his hands, and watches the control board lights pulse steadily. Ivella, back inside the ship, and Eon inside his own body.

“Thank you, Eon. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

[artificialautonomy]

☯ ♠ Ω

♠: Favourite thing to do with your muse 

Past Eon? Pretty damn good fighter. Current Eon? Unpredictable, drops his blaster, doesn’t really know how to fight unless memory kicks in. I like to headcanon (and maybe this can turn canon) that he asks Xel to teach him how to fight and Xel eventually sticks a bow in Eon’s hands out of exasperation because this clumsy puny elfen droid has to take to something, right? Imagine gimli and legolas but gimli is huge as fuck. It’s his favorite thing because Xel takes the time to teach him, and he feels like he can gain control of himself instead of remaining defective and dangerous.

☯: First impression of your muse 

Eon was... maybe? around when Xel was first brought onto the Derelict. First impression was probably from Sal talking about Xel, Eon believing Xel was dangerous, aggressive, ‘stupid’. Eon probably would’ve tried to talk to Xel even if Xel had none of it, form his own impression that’s now the current one. He admires Xel’s strength, and wishes the captain wouldn’t keep him in a collar. It reminds Eon of when he was forced to wear an ankle bracelet that kept him from leaving the gang affiliation on Rishi for fear of triggering a self destruct mechanism. He sees Xel as an important part of the crew. 

Ω: Favourite feature of your muse's 

An easy answer would be Xel’s height, or physique, neither things he can or will ever achieve unless he found an engineer who not only could navigate his technology, but upgrade it. Eon scans the cilare’s face, lifting one hand to point to his own cheek. Where his skin is clear of freckles or marks, Xel has a small mole that Eon’s eyes always drift back to. 

Xel’s beauty mark. It’s something that would fascinate Eon, the way Violet’s marks do. Even scars would probably be his favorite feature of someone. Eon doesn’t have any distinguishable marks on his body even if he was created in the image of a sith general’s son. They didn’t bother to transfer any scars, or moles, or birthmarks. Eon finds the marks of living something to admire. 

[artificialautonomy]

♛, ☯

♛: Pet name for your muse

“Is this the same as a nickname? I don’t know why you would want one from me, Pom. I’m not very good at that.”[ One of the things that I imagine about Eon and the way he address people is it’s always by the name they introduce themselves with, and he won’t change that title unless they ask him to even if he’s really close or intimate with that person. He addresses people formally, like Sal with ‘captain’, always captain. Doc as ‘Doctor’.  I think there’s an intimacy in using a full name, too, but that’s not the way Eon thinks of it. He just doesn’t think to give people nicknames, but if Pom asked him to try, he’d really think it over and try to come up with something she’d like. ] 

☯: First impression of your muse

“Her curiosity is endless. There is honesty in that insatiable desire to know more, something I admire.”

[ I imagine their first meeting revolved around a lot of questions from Pom, and Eon who is always willing and one of the few to answer so many questions (even if not all that accurately). Eon always has this instinct to fix things, and take care of people around him. An instinct that has lingered since he was first created. Pom brings out that caretaker instinct, i think, partly because she is one of the younger passengers. If she ever ran off somewhere while the Derelict was docked on a distant planet, he would follow after her to make sure nothing went wrong. And things always go wrong. ]

[artificialautonomy]

Positive Interactions Headcanon; My muse's...

☮: Favourite thing about your muse

☯: First impression of your muse

♠: Favourite thing to do with your muse

Ω: Favourite feature of your muse's

♤: Way they apologize to your muse

♣: How they hold your muses hand

♧: How they kiss your muse

♡: How they hug your muse

♥: Small way to show your muse they care

♦: What they would buy because it reminds them of your muse

♢: How they share a bed with your muse

♔: How they like to cuddle your muse

♛: Pet name for your muse

★: First thing that changes when they realize they care about your muse

☆: What they miss about your muse when they're apart

☾: What my muse says to yours when they think they're asleep

❥: Anything else you can think of [specify]

❧: Random affectionate headcanon

[artificialautonomy]

tercrai-aloncruz‌:

Robot Buddy || Eon & Tercrai

He had frowned when Doc had told him that Eon had attacked one of the Jedi, he had frowned mostly because he couldn’t imagine it haven’t happened without good reason. Which was dumb, because he knew enough about Eon to know it might as well have. But he would always give his own people the benefit of the doubt. His crew came first, including in these kind of matters. And knowing Eon, whatever had gone wrong, it did not deserve harshness, but it did require understanding. So he had taken Doc’s knowledge into account, and as soon as time permitted, he went to look for the droid. 

Terry knew how to find Eon on the ship, simply track him on the cams and be quick enough to catch him along the many corridors. He speed-walked through the ship until he tracked him down near the service area. “Eon! Slow down!” 

@artificialautonomy

He didn’t know what to call it, this hurried need to pace the halls. Filling his time by walking from each section to the ship and back, over and over. Asking Sal for a job only to be turned away with a sharp glance and locked jaw. Zuriel would only gift him a holographic puzzle that glitched periodically and had missing pieces. Everyone else had their own worries to entertain, so he occupies himself with this useless task. He can still sense someone behind him by a few meters. If his mind were in the right place, he’d be able to tell who it is by the rhythm of their walk. But it takes a voice for him to connect to a face.

“Tercrai...” And Eon comes to a dead stop, finally looking at the navigator. “Is something wrong?” Eon’s eyes drop down, as if he’s following a trail of worried thoughts. The odd sensation returns. Overwhelming, Impending. Uncomfortable. He wonders if Tercrai had already heard about his mistake. If it would change anything. “You’ve been gone...” Said slowly, as if he’s reminding himself of that. Days certainly felt longer without Tercrai’s company. Eon had grown used to the absence, but it’s not something he wants to be familiar with. “When did you return? Fair warning, you might have a new roommate now.”

[artificialautonomy]

u single

“For the greater good, or something like that.” And there’s a whisper of a smile on his face that calls to a memory, referencing a forgotten time, reviving a dead persona that dared to carry such a dark sense of humor around. He wouldn’t think long on why it almost seems nostalgic, not until the ship was asleep, and he was alone with nothing but the idea of a memory.

“It would be unwise for me to pursue a romantic relationship. I would likely outlive them, and forgetting your partner on a day to day basis and without warning is generally frowned upon, or so I’m told.”

[artificialautonomy]

joules-roscoe‌:

Joules was absolutely plastered. It was bad enough Xel crossed his mind more often than he probably should, and he wondered how long it would be before he self-sabotaged by running away. For the time being, he was tethered to the ship, and tried to push the thought from his mind. But now there was no more avoiding Aodhan, what he’d done, and his tensions with Zur were rising to a boiling point. Eon had been a part of that past Joules had run away from, but things with Eon seemed to have settled into a camaraderie after their daring escape from the kyber festival.

Joules was listening to the apology and to the anecdote, but his thoughts wandered over the other’s long, silvery hair, and the way his lips were shaped instead. The pilot wondered what they were like, and the words fell out of him as if he were slack-jawed and drooling. He wasn’t, but when he realized he’d said the words out loud, he blinked and shook his head.

“No, no, I’m sorry. That was–I wasn’t thinking–” he blurted, feeling slightly embarrassed at being so damn forward when Eon was simply telling him about his time in Rishi. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I don’t want you to shut up that’s not– Nobody can help me, Eon,” he said with a weak laugh. “But please. It’s okay about the bodies. It’s not the first time since I’ve been here– there were two goons from the cartel that came in and I had to dispatch ‘em, but— Don’t stop talking to me. I was, and am listening.” He didn’t want Eon to leave him alone right now, or he’d almost certainly go looking for trouble.

Eon is still as Joules sputters through words, waiting for a clear message as he maps the outlines of unfamiliar buttons with the tips of careful fingers. It’s interesting the way Joules emotions fly around with no solid landing. So presently honest.

“Sorry for...” Interrupting him. Had he been interrupted? Eon pauses here, finally looking at Joules. But the glance in his eyes is vacant. He’s already forgotten what he’d been talking about to begin with, but today’s weariness has set into Joule’s face. And he fears leaving now would only exhaust the pilot further. “I cannot say for certain no one has ever told me I’ve had a beautiful mouth, but it feels like a first.” Said with the slightest smile turning the corner of lips. “I cannot say much for certain. My memory is not very good. Some find it very irritating because I tend to repeat myself, or think I ask too many questions. They misinterpret it as me not listening. Not paying attention. Very few beg me to talk because I lose the beginning and ends of my stories.” Eon travels through his own words like the loose threads in his mind, pulling on single ends until he can tie them together. Not always careful, but always purposeful. 

“Strange for you to be the quiet one this time.”  Fingers traveling over the ship’s controls wrap around the neck of an almost-empty bottle. He lifts his free hand, tapping the center of the pilot’s forehead. “Why are you drinking alone?”

[artificialautonomy]

@zabrakzur

Eon stands outside the med bay, just far enough from the doors so its sensors do not pick up on his presence. A safe healing space that had become a metal barricade carrying the same finality of the Doctor’s threats. Words have never really stopped him from doing anything. Even if words traveled in and out of his mind like temporary guests, becoming suggestions to call upon at random when he can actually remember rather than permanent rules. But he remembers the decisive ire of Doc’s warning to stay away. The palpable anger behind eyes that couldn’t see the droid who put Valen at Death’s doorstep, but still trained on Eon as if the doctor intended to throw him into the airlock personally.

When he leaves the medical hall, he’s chasing an idea of change. Desperately and without hesitation searching faces on the ship. Trying to find that familiar, ever-amused smile. Eon is on his hands and knees in the underbelly of the ship, peering under wild knots of metal pipes and roaring machines as if he might find Zuriel tinkering away, hidden in a dark corner. The incessant roar of the engine joins the storm of his own thoughts, and he pulls himself up against the wall, feeling the heat of the Derelict’s mechanical heart flood over the sensors on his skin. He sees the tips of shoes first, but doesn’t bother to stand up.

“Don’t laugh at me, Zuriel.” And he’s sure he looks like a mess, hands covered in the grime of the engine room’s floors, hair tied up now coming loose, untamed nest of strands framing his face. “Please, I want you to fix me-- just try. I’ll owe you. Anything you ask.”

[artificialautonomy]

J♥️

J♠️ - Who would your muse most likely end up in jail with?

“Joules.” Answer offered unblinking, and without a pause. It wasn’t that long ago the pilot with all the raw confidence of a supernova shot at the restraints around Eon’s wrists. “The first time was coincidence, but he is reckless, good at talking people into situations– I’m sure you know. I have no doubt the second time I’m behind bars would be on purpose and with his company.”

J♥️ - Who does your muse consider their best friend?

The idea of friend conjures no concrete image. If it was based on experiences and time, friend could mean the doctor, or the captain. One who treated him as an impending plague waiting to unleash, and the other that kept him around like a lumbering, unwanted child. There’s still familiarity.“I do not know if I can describe anyone as a best friend.” And he pauses as he thinks of the tenderness in Row’s eyes. The way Violet embraces his clumsy behavior. Tercrai’s easy grin. Zuriel’s laughter, even at his expense. And there’s a subtle smile on Eon’s face. “But I do value the time I spend with everyone. I value my time with you.”

[artificialautonomy]

“ i am afraid of the dark. ”

“I have learned that it is not always the dark we should be afraid of. Darkness can be beautiful, and the light can offer its own horrors. Both always embrace each other, like the moons in a night sky, or the stars in the galaxy.” And Eon slips his hand into hers, allowing the artificial mechanics under his skin to activate in a way he was not initially designed for. Man-made cells give off a faint glow that lights up their surroundings just enough that Eon can see her face, and she can see his faint smile form. “Zuriel will fix the lights soon enough. I’ll stay with you, if it eases your mind.”