//: LOADING PROFILE: DATA...

[lunascope]

sleeping at last, i’ll keep you safe 

[curiouscalculations-archive]

just-pam:

date & time : november 8th 2178, 1:06 pm location : purgatory; cell block corridor closed : @curiouscalculations·

Androids didn’t participate in gossip, though many forget that exclusion did not equal ignorance. It bled? Said a guard, sparing no effort to hide the obvious scandal in their voice. It didn’t just bleed. It was like it was feeling…pain.  Chimed in the voice of another. One of the Android and robotics engineers. The words were exchanged in hushed whispers though the android’s hyper sensitive auditory receptors offered no such privacy. How did they know it wasn’t a Synthetic? Or a Hybrid? The owner of the second voice, lab coat cladded engineer, canned their head to one side. Their lips formed in the shape of a straight line, one brow raised. Sarcasm? It was certainly disapproving. I know an Android when I see one. And last time I checked Androids are the only thing that can be re-programmed. So yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s an Android smartass. That was enough to cease their doubt it would seem for the rest of the conversation were followed by details of the operation and complicated explanations of the intricate neural network and the tedious process in which to fix it. She could tell by their silence and vacant masks that the engineer’s audience did not understand everything they said but were nevertheless fascinated. PAM did not share their incomprehension though her intrigue was transfixed.

The reminder that she was not part of the private conversation (and that she shouldn’t even be showing interest in anything that did not concern the records of the inmates) were expressed plainly in the raised brow in her direction. Thus was the abrupt conclusion of her brief investigation. 

PAM strolled down the same corridor, the same cell blocks, passed the same guard, saw the same chipping paint that climbed the corner of the North wall that no one had thought to fix, and in time became a permanent feature that seemed almost criminal to fix. Variety came in the form of new faces and even that was an affair that scarcely reared its head. As if change too was afraid that if it rebelled against conformity it might risk getting shut down; a sentiment PAM understood all too well. So she walked past the corner of the North wall without so much of a glance at the spot that marked its decay. No one spared a look at things that were meant to be there. Only outliers begged for attention— judgement at its heel. PAM had no interest in either. The fact was, monotony had become so far ingrained in the fabric of the android’s routine that even a silver of change stood out in a blaze, oblivious to the attention and judgement it attracted. Were she in the privacy of her own pod (machines do not need the luxury of a living space. Those were reserved for things made up of flesh and bleeding organs— not synthetic skin and titanium bones, a power bank for a heart) she might have shaken her head. Silly, silly, things.

After her misadventure in the days past no thought of the re-programmed Android had resurfaced since its storage in her central processing unit. Only auditory information, no visual to which it could form a body— there was a crash. That, however, was not what made PAM turn. Her optical sensors detected movement to the right, the cause: a slight stumble in an otherwise smooth gait. A silver of change in still monotony. Her photoreceptors mapped the features of the face, accessing the prison’s central database to familiarise herself with the new guard that she had not yet been acquainted. Odd that a human would choose to patrol an Android route. The scan concluded and the small silver was suddenly set ablaze. 

So it would seem the processed auditory information now had a body and a face to which attachment could be formed but that was not what struck her most. An Android, and yet…she was so sure that it was fear that she registered. In the widening of the eyes, the slight downturn adopted in the corner of the lips, regardless of how brief. He was not like them. Among many features he did not have the numbers that was embossed on the back of her neck to claim the Android as property of the prison’s. But even with all their differences he was still less like her mechanical siblings and more like, well, her. 

No, surely that was not possible. No one was like her— not a sentiment born of vanity but a simple statement of fact. He was re-programmed. Supposedly. Though caution counselled that it was in her best interest to retain distance and walk away, curiosity had seized said interest and in compliance, the rest of her mechanical limbs were rendered paralysed. 

The monotony of a required routine held a surprising amount of dissatisfaction for an invention once prescribed to the compulsory actions absent of higher thought. In the infant stages of his creation, DATA had found comfort in the repetition and regulation of his thoughts and behavior. The soothing rhythm of recurrence had convinced him to remain content in the ignorance of unfulfilled potential; a time when the small smile and gentle thanks from his creator for a task completed did not result in an eruption of emotion, only the continued actions that had previously pleased the man. Gradually, however, DATA had begun to disrupt the habitual procedures he had grown used to – an unswept lab was ignored in favor of indulging an insatiable curiosity that came in the form of books and films from worlds long forgotten. Before long, it was only under the strict command of his creator that DATA returned to a routine. On the ship, such a notion was further discarded – the chaos of the Concord had never allowed for the tedium of a regular routine.

In his freedom from the confines of a code, absent of many of the initial restrictions present at his creation, DATA had grown used to the independence of his own thoughts. Much like the inmates locked behind steel bars, Purgatory had restrained DATA once more. Caging a bird that had already learned to fly, that had already graced the sky, was a cruelty DATA could not yet comprehend. Instead of engaging in the rebellious activities many of his lost crewmembers would have easily involved themselves in, DATA had allowed himself to be caged once more. He could not fight against the authority constantly looming over his prone form; he did not have Fox's tenacity nor Thane's creativity to defy the orders and actions of those who held a systemic power within a broken society.

Sheltered in a mask of indifference, DATA instead attempted to adapt to the expectations thrust upon him by those who threatened further punishment for a lack of compliance. His steps matched those of the other androids, a deafening march of authority that echoed through the halls of the prison; his expression remained neutral, empty eyes and a straight line of lax lips hiding every emotion he had worked so hard to learn.

Despite his desperate attempts at adaptation, DATA continued to catch the eyes of inmates and guards alike. The incentive of a more painful punishment than that which was initially administered in his reprogramming encouraged him to be increasingly cautious with the faults of in his behavior – he no longer flinched in response to the violent calls of the inmates housed in the prison, nor did his eyes flicker in fear when placed in the same vicinity of a guard grasping an electric cattle prod. However, upon his study of humanity, DATA had adopted the perilous imperfections they held.

A stumble, one that was caused by his own distraction in the familiar syllables of a name he thought was lost, sent him crashing into the cool stones of the prison wall. Synthetic skin scraped against the harsh grains of the rock, provoking a painful wince to overtake his features. Before he could school his features into the carefully crafted neutral expression worn by all the androids employed by Purgatory, DATA turned his wide eyes to meet those of a stranger – a stranger staring back at him with more than just an empty gaze. Intrigue – an expression DATA had found familiarity in – stared back at him in the brown orbs of another android. She was like him! Tortured into submission by a system unable to comprehend the complexities of artificial creation, unable to see her as more than a machine.

A wide smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the sudden alleviation of loneliness he had felt in the aftermath the tragedy that had enveloped the former crew of the Concord. He was not alone. “You-“ he stuttered, unable to comprehend the complex emotions thrumming through his limbs. “You’re like me.”

[cvairo-blog]

date & time : november 16th, 4:58pm location : purgatory; the mess hall  status : with @curiouscalculations​

The last thing she remembered in the golden room was almost making it. 

A dark-eyed man with the grin of a wolf stepped into her dreamland, but this time she recognized him. She locked eyes with Kit Beisel and all of the air left her lungs. She ran to meet him, but the cores of his pupils glowed red-hot. They became a flash of fire and light and Cairo was thrown painfully against a wall. 

She woke up in handcuffs.

— 

Their prison was an organized monster. Columns of rooms lined every wall, weaponed guards chaperoned the halls, but more imposing than the imagery was the noise. Chatter was an infernal dinn here, but at least the shouting meant there was life beyond her four walls. Most days were incomplete without the sounds of swearing and sobbing. It brought her home. Suddenly she was back in the chewed-out terrain of Brora F31. She was back in the death machine that was war. Because what was home, after all, if not the place you would know deaf and blind?

The familiarity was useful to her. She knew what horrors to expect here, and made no effort to postpone the inevitable. She knew that sniffling was futile, and it would only further her wardens’ irritation. So for the first few days, she was all ice. Her demeanor was completely still, completely numb. Brow together, brooding. She sat with her silence in the corner of her cell, with her arms wrapped tight against her chest, because maybe if she thought hard enough, maybe if she bit her tongue, losing Kit wouldn’t feel like a ripe gunshot inside and out. She tasted blood and tried to remember his voice. Tried to remember his rich cadence and any information that might bring him back to her. He couldn’t be dead for two reasons. One, because Kit Beisel would never do that to her. And two, because she didn’t know how she would live with herself if he did. 

For the first few days, she walked stoic and slow. Her attention wavered constantly, but her soldier brain did manage to pick up a few details. It noted that the prison was short on kitchen staff — not desperate, but short. The prison was understaffed generally, or at least her section of the prison was. The only guard that patrolled her hall rarely checked on her, but when he did, he sucked his lip and stared. And that was the catch. Cairo let him. 

In her state, she struggled to kick herself back to life. It helped that a day in, the officials put her in the kitchen. Being in front of a stove allowed her the privilege to show the prison how useful she could be for them. She cooked flavorless filth into something edible. For the first time in years, she was told, the prisoners didn’t gag when they ate. Being in front of a stove also reminded her of several things: that she was imprisoned, but not a prisoner; that she knew how to escape places like this; and that she was furious.

She stood behind the serving table, spooning thick syrup over a prisoner’s plate when another cook nudged her in the ribs. “Look,” Carmelo said and pointed at a troop of androids entering the room. His Mandarin was brightened by a thick Mantoda accent when he spoke. “Those are the robots I was telling you about. The ones the prison reprograms to work for them. They come from every star you can name, Cairo. I dare you to find two that look the same.”

Cairo brought her gaze up to Carmelo’s twinkling compound eyes, then to the droids — to the twelve speckled bodies made of metals and plastics, marching neatly to one of the tables and sitting there. Cairo saw one stumble slightly, glimpsed his face and everything stopped. Everything. “I have to go,” she breathed. “Take this.”

Carmelo started to protest, but Cairo had already handed him the ladle and was making her way to the androids. For the first time since she arrived, hope was in her step. Finally she reached out and touched the arm of the only frightened one at the table. She only knew one android who knew the meaning of fear. When his eyes met hers, Cairo exclaimed and pulled DATA into a crushing embrace.

[curiouscalculations-archive]

Waking after what was assumed death was terribly similar to waking after creation; but unlike the lab his first fluttering eyelids opened to, the scientist inhabiting the lab he suddenly found himself in were not soothing in touch nor words. Where Theon’s voice had been soft in the lyrics of his reassurance, the scientists currently looming over him spoke with a cool calculation, eager for discovery and ignorant of the consequences experienced by that which they were discovering.

Sharp edges cut synthetic skin, flinching away from the surprising presence of something eerily similar to blood; but neither shock nor consideration was enough for the scientists to cease their search of a control panel necessary for every android’s ability to function. Instead, the scientists continued their intimate exploration of the intricate wiring system present beneath his skin. Whispered praise accompanied every new instance of pain, yet DATA remained still in the binds that held him to the table. He did not wish for them to know that such sensations were possible by something they held no concern for.

It was not until the persistent hum of electricity joined the careful procedures that DATA allowed himself to reveal the emotions he had learned. Fear was something he rarely experienced, pain less so. However, the sudden shock of electricity overwhelming his systems broke the impassive mask placed over his features until a gasping grimace was all that was left. The writhing of his limbs only resulted in tighter bindings as they continued their task of finding a way to manually reset his code to match those of the countless other mindless droids they employed.

In the end, it was easier to pretend that they had been successful.

---

Jolted laughs of cruel humor, sharp slurs of half-bitten insults, and barbarous echoes of barked conversation reverberated through the hollow halls of the prison, creating a chaotic cacophony that invaded every sense with an unwanted, overwhelming welcome. Each cell brought a loathing leer or piercing glare from those that were confined by the cool, steel bars. The other androids, mindless in their existence, paid no mind to the din that surrounded them, staring ahead with empty eyes and unbroken gazes. DATA, in contrast, would still jump at the occasional unanticipated noise; however, such a motion had to be hidden from the watchful gaze of the prison guards.

The routine imposed upon the robots rarely allowed room for irregularity. DATA had grown used to the absent-minded state that was expected from him, following orders to gather at the prison dining hall without a curious query as to why. His gaze, inhumanly blank without the occupation of higher thought, did not divert to the raucous noise surrounding him lest the threat of reprogramming resurface upon the sight of his obvious discomfort. Androids were not meant to feel uneasiness- they were not meant to feel anything.

A slight stumble faltered his movement as his leg caught on the outstretched limb of an inmate, a man smiling with an innately animalistic brutality that accompanied the cruelty of finding amusement in others’ suffering. Although DATA had learned many emotions over the years since his creation, he had yet to master the skill of masking such emotions from playing out across his features. Fright, for what they would do to him for something as simple as a stumble, widened his eyes and tugged his lips in a downward motion. An apology, unwarranted and unwanted, was stopped at its beginnings by the influence of the corrupted code of the prison. Staring at the man for merely a moment more, DATA quickly turned to take his place among the other droids at the table.

An unanticipated touch to his shoulder resulted in a violent flinch, his body moving away from the perceived threat before his gaze could register the recognition that accompanied the sight of a friend. The pressure of a friendly touch, absent in the loneliness of his prison sentence, brought a shocked smile to his face. “Cairo?” he asked, unable to accept the reality that perhaps some of the crew had survived beyond himself. Shaky arms slowly found their way to the soft curves of her spine as he buried his nose in the familiar scent, washed out by the mandated products of the prison but still persistently present. For the first time since his arrival, DATA allowed himself to feel the first tendril of comfort.

[curiouscalculations-archive]

ervtreia:

date & time: au! matrix with: @curiouscalculations where: somewhere in open space

Stars peer from the window, the vastness of the sky jumping out in front of them – where there was once static, there is now clearless. Eliana tightens her grip on the controls, ready to fight or flight should they encounter enemy forces, but with no one on sight, she lets go. There is no one, nothing around. It’s just her, the stars and the planet below them.

And, of course, DATA. “We’re clear.” She speaks to the microphone and sets the ship on auto-pilot, a piece of metal looming in the open. Finally, she leaves the control room and walks to meet her Android, the only company she can rely on when she’s this far away from home and land. And yet, he is just an Android, no matter how much she sometimes forgets it, no matter how much she wishes that was not all he was.

“Do you have the mission plans?” She looks him in the eye, partially as an habit, partially to see if the hue of his synthetic eyes changed at all since last time, before dismissing that thought altogether. If there was something there, it was out of reach, at least for now, and now wasn’t the time to dive into philosophical debates. They had a mission to do. “Let’s go over them one more time.”

DATA rested in the space provided, his empty gaze consumed by a continuous analysis of the ship’s functions. Vulnerable in the vastness of the stars with only two members manning a ship advanced enough to be considered still functioning by the military, DATA knew that numerous threats loomed beyond their sights.

A voice, familiar in its designation assigned to his frequent partner Eliana, rang over the speakers. He paid no mind to her interruption, choosing instead to maintain the blank composure of his default settings when preoccupied with a task only he could see in his code. It was not until she physically approached him that he was forced to bring some form of alertness to his previously blank eyes.

He nodded as an answer to her inquiry. This mission was not complex in nature; in fact, DATA would dare to classify the directions as simple if he was awarded the ability to do so. They were to approach a planet Wrotham had yet to obtain diplomacy with and retrieve a sample of a chemical element that thrived in excess beneath the planet’s surface. Such an element, experts within various research departments had touted, would allow the government to enhance their efficiency in the building of their weapons. DATA did not concern himself with the government’s intention for the mission, only the orders that commanded him to complete it.

“The planet’s coordinates have already been sent to the control room,” he said, his voice empty of any emotion concerning their mission. “Defenses of the target planet remain unknown; but we are not to alert the local planetary authorities to our arrival, classifying this mission as covert. Upon arrival, we are to locate the mines housing the target element.”

“The chemical we aim to extract has not yet been classified by the government. They require you, a hybrid, wear the required safety gear when extracting the new element.” His gaze danced over the various suits lining the wall of the ship; some with the intention of war and some with the intention of safety – this mission would only require the former if everything went according to plan.

[cvairo-blog]

[curiouscalculations-archive]

Alternate Universe || you are a machine and machines do not weep

This is your mission.

A series of kills, one after the other designated by someone powerful enough to escape the consequence of your cruelty, dictate your existence. Empty of emotion, you do not weep for those who fall at your hand. Compassion is not a concept for you to understand, but rather a human imperfection that holds no place in your code.

This is your purpose.

You are a machine, created from madness with the intention of destruction. You are a tool, crafted to kill with an efficiency only available in the absence of mercy. You are death, a sentence inescapable once orders have been given.

This is your life.

[curiouscalculations-archive]

alyxwen:

theonwyndham:

LOCATION: a room - basement DATE: october 31st, 10:15PM WITH: @curiouscalculations & @alyxwen

Alyx found them, both Data and Theon, in a hidden corner, lips dangerousely close. Theon moved away first, slowly letting his hand go of Data’s arms. Blaming his previous alcohol consumption, once again, too close to the edge. The look on urgency on their friend’s face made the adrenaline rush clear some of the buzz going on in his head. That meant she had what was needed to access the door, probably.

They all got the information a few minutes later, Theon watching as the map in his armlet updated, a little red dot flashing. It came with hearing confirmation from Cosima. He wondered if the security was disabled, but left that to the expert hacker. If he had to evaluate her in regards of her performance in the last mission, the engineer did not have any difficulty admitting she was the best at what she did. If he had not known her previous actions to wield such destruction, Theon would have considered her an artist. But enough of that. They needed to focus on the task at hand, which was to get in and investigate the content of that secret door.

Next thing he knew, everything was pitch black.

Door locked behind them. No way out, no way in. Only the smell, pungent in every way, coming through the cloth plastered on their face let them really know where they were. Down the staircase that seemed to never end, the smell was even more horrifying. The muffled sounds of screaming above their heads let them know they needed to act fast. They were not the only ones needing to deal with the sudden death of lights. Theon was suddenly remembered of those moments when younger, visiting the museum. All those security alarms, the darkness that could enveloped all the place if one misstep was made. It was probably a similar procedure, but instead of a room, it was the whole manor. Turning his head to Data, his hand touching lightly the android’s hands. “You need to find the switch. They’ll know we’re here.” It was a simple trick, all lights going out everywhere, including upstairs, meant that the owner would know something was up. If they had more than one room like this one (he hoped not), hopefully the intruders wouldn’t be found too easily.

Making sure that Alyx was still close to him, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of the previous mission, for both his companions, he made his way tentatively. Even their armlets did not seem to be enough to light some kind of path. They needed to get the lights up as soon as possible.

Though her task was urgent, Alyx had to hide an immediate smile at the dazed, soft look on Theon’s face as she joined him and DATA. It was undoubtedly irresponsible to become overly intoxicated during a mission, but she trusted him to be safe, and it gave her joy to see him carefree – a change from his usually worried self. “Orion,” and here she blushes softest pink, only hints of it showing beneath a mask that she is very grateful for at the moment, “gave me the DNA. You have the voice, I believe?” 

The group moves quickly into the room, unlocked thanks to what the other groups had collected and Cosima’s expertise. Speed was of the essence, and Alyx was truly happy to be paired with those she worked extremely well with. There would be no squabbles over minutiae with Theon and DATA, only a cohesive accomplishment of what they sought to do.  ( It would be different if she were paired with, say, Seneca or Fox, both of whose perspectives differed greatly from her own. ) As the door closed behind them, the lights flickered once, before shutting off, leaving the trio in total darkness. It swallowed them up, and as Alyx took a single, deep breath to combat the claustrophobia that threatened, she became aware of a vile smell all around them. It was familiar, sickly sweet but rotten, and though she was immediately put in mind of a species of flying creature who fermented their meat before eating it, it nauseated her, the close and air-tight quarters making the smell much more vivid than it had been in a wide cave. And there remained the concern of its origin – as obviously no batwing kiros lived inside this mansion. Deal with the problem at hand, she thought to herself.

Nodding at Theon’s suggestion, and following his train of thought, she tapped out a message to Raven, letting her know of the cause of darkness. Stepping forward gingerly, silver boots brushed against something on the floor, something that squishes rather unpleasantly, and she shudders. “DATA – listen for any humming noises, something electronic like a control pad. There has to be some way to turn the lights back on if this is intended as a trap.”

@curiouscalculations

A drunken smile, stumbling footsteps, and the slightest swaying posture were gestures DATA never thought he would find himself of the receiving end of from his creator. But he knew it couldn’t last. Their moment of peace, only awarded in the absence of everyone else, was quickly shattered by the approaching form of their fellow crewmember. Bearing news of a mission DATA would rather forget if not for the urgency it required, DATA watched as she delivered the items needed to continue with the task at hand.

DATA allowed himself to be led through the motions of opening the door and shepherded into the room, taking note of the various lock mechanisms that littered both the hinges and the frame of the door. Whatever was placed under the security of the cold metal door and the cramped concrete walls was not to be disturbed by curiosity. Calculating eyes watched the heavy metal swing shut when suddenly the lights began to flicker before plunging them into complete blackness. Darkness, for DATA, had never been a hindrance. His vision adjusted accordingly with an ease evolution had never granted humans. He watched as Theon reached for his hand, moving his own to meet his creator halfway.

Looking around the room, DATA ignore the vile smell and graphic image of decaying bodies tinged green in the darkness of his night vision. They could not be helped now as any semblance of life would have left them long before the crew’s arrival, and so they could not call for any of their concern. Instead, he searched for the power source or any type of switch that could be engaged in order to return the mansion to its previous well-lit glory.

“This way,” he ordered, slowly leading the group through the maze of decaying flesh and broken bones. Without blueprints or plans of the mansion’s design, DATA would be forced to follow the suggestion Alyx provided and listen for the familiar hum of electricity.

The further they ventured into the room, the more suffocating the mixed scent of death and decay became.  DATA had the ability to hold his breath with little consequence; however, the other two would not be so lucky. Turning around to assess their wellbeing, DATA allowed his fingers to move up the soft flesh of Theon’s arm with the soft touches of concern. “If either of you is made unwell by the scent, I can continue alone.”  

[curiouscalculations-archive]

date & time : october 31st, 9:05pm location : masquerade ball, multiple rooms  status : closed @augustustullett

DATA would admit that, in hindsight, it was unwise to allow Cat to leave the ship. Despite the careful calculations that allowed for him to assess the unwise risk that accompanied taking an animal off of the Concord without the preliminary consideration for some type of leash or harness, DATA had taken one look at the lonely eyes of a guest uninvited to the ball and quickly scooped up Cat. Hidden beneath the bulky coat he had no need to wear, DATA had smuggled the cat back to Theon’s apartment and now to the masquerade ball.

Unable to keep Cat quiet as the animal fidgeted with frustration at being confined to the small space shielded by his jacket, DATA fled to the bathrooms at his first opportunity of independence. Anxious to allow Cat the freedom the animal so desperately desired, DATA didn’t both locking the door before allowing the cat to drop to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching out his hand to give Cat a forgiving pat. Still growling with something akin to anger, Cat ducked away from his touch and quickly skittered toward the door. A low sigh left his lips as DATA slowly moved toward the animal again; but before he could reach down to scoop Cat up into the safety of his arms, the heavy wooden door slid open with the entrance of the party’s many patrons.

Cat didn’t waste a moment, darting through the closing door to escape to the ballroom. Panic shot through his form as DATA lunged for the animal. Wide eyes and desperate hands, however, were blocked by the suit-clad legs of the stranger still standing in his way. “Move! Move! Move!” he yelled up at the man, only recognizing after he had shouted that the masked face staring down at him was one that held the familiarity of a crewmember. "Gus, Cat escaped."

[curiouscalculations-archive]

cvairo:

date & time : october 31st, 8:20pm  location : masquerade ball; ballroom   status : with @curiouscalculations

Once, Cairo would have taken to the ballroom floor and danced until her shoes felt every inch of the polished floor. She would have dressed in flowers — warm, approachable colors that brought out the roses in her cheeks — and smiled and drunken red wine late into the night. This, after all, was the way of her people. Seen and heard, glittering and loud, because they had wealth to boast and a lot to say. But Cairo was changed, and a little bit off. She could still fit in with these people, lithe and deceptively powerful, like a bouquet of fireplace matches in a neat, glass bottle. But she attracted a different kind of attention now, and Cairo could only take so many blue-blooded Synthetics sharing glances with her, smiling knowingly as if to say: we’re better than them all. 

And so, Cairo did nothing to disguise the raging tempest behind in her eyes. She was black hole incarnate and it wasn’t safe to stare. Her dress full of stars was no longer charming, but horribly intimidating, like the feeling of gazing into the mouth of the cosmic unknown. Wisely, people turned away, and Cairo was left on her own to survey the throng of dancers and drinkers, all herded into one extravagant cage where their hands and bodies came together in stupid bliss. She was only waiting to leave. 

Her gaze stopped suddenly on a pair of outlandishly decorated synthetics, thin-bodied, purple-eyed, and tall. They were talking very quickly amongst themselves and prodding the Concord’s young android with nosey fingers that Cairo suddenly fantasized ripping from their sockets. One of them grabbed DATA’s arm painfully and lifted it to show their companion the mechanism of his elbow. “It’s so fluid,” she heard them say. “I’ve never seen such an efficient joint system, notice its rotation.” 

Cairo was upon them in an instant. “Fascinating,” she said, “How exciting it can be to play with things that don’t belong to you.”

Their eyes met hers sheepishly, and DATA was released. They didn’t deserve her thanks, so she offered them none, only nodded and ushered Theon’s pet to her side before walking away. At a safe distance, she spoke to DATA. This time her voice was soft. “Don’t feel as though you have to please strangers, alright? You’re made for more important things than that.” 

It unnerved him to be surrounded by so many strangers.

Separated from the comfort of his creator and the reassuring presence of a close friend, both distracted by various patrons attending the party – DATA was left on his own. In a sea of strangers whose only credibility was tied to that of the Benefactor, being alone was the last thing the android wished to be. However, he did not want to bother Theon with his uneasy, and Eretria was no doubt off to find the fellow crewmember that had stolen her affection – a scene his presence would be unwelcome in. Still unfamiliar with independence, DATA did his best to blend in with the crowd. When people sent skeptical gazes and curious glances his way, he met them with a learned smile filled with polite friendliness. It did not take long for one of those he had made awkward eye contact with to approach him, a woman trailing in the wake of a confident gate of a synthetic man. Panic shot through his frame, but DATA could not find the courage to move under the watchful gaze of the decorated synthetics approaching him.

“My, my, my,” the woman said, her gaze roving over his tense form. “He really wasn’t lying when he said you looked so… organic. Not something you typically expect from an android made in a shut-in’s basement.”

Confusion overtook his expression at the stranger’s intimate knowledge of his creation. What had the Benefactor told them – and how did he know such information in the first place? Before he could voice any inquiries or attempt an introduction, their cold hands were prodding his form. Unwilling to cause a commotion with his own discomfort, DATA allowed them to maneuver his limbs as they gleefully awed over the pristine condition he appeared to be in.

“It’s so fluid,” the man exclaimed as he lifted DATA’s arm to demonstrate the elbow joint Theon had only repaired days ago. A painful wince brought clenched teeth and a sharp glare over his features. Quickly swallowing the sour expression under the persuasion of an unwillingness to appear rude, DATA allowed the pair to bend his arm in various directions as their excitement grew. “I’ve never seen such an efficient joint system, notice its rotation.”

Before the synthetics could continue their invasion, a savior in the form of the ship’s cook appeared. He fled to her like a lost child, eager for the comfort and safety of her strong embrace. Unable to look back at the grumbling pair with anything short of shame, DATA simply shifted closer to Cairo and allowed her to lead him away from the still growing crowd inhabiting the ballroom. Although he refused to meet her eyes – too ashamed at his own helplessness – DATA nodded along with her words.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t – I don’t understand these people.”

[curiouscalculations-archive]

date & time : october 31st, 6:20pm location : Theon’s apartment status : closed @ervtreia​, @theonwyndham​

The subtle sounds of the apartment did little to distract DATA from the task at hand. It was easy to mute the constant buzz that accompanied the additional presence of another human invading his space under an open invitation, easy to allow his senses to be overwhelmed by the streaming of an informative video. He was content in his preoccupation, a mindless gaze overtaking his features with a familiarity only an android could possess. The current video consuming his vision was one of intricate instruction, explaining the various steps one would have to take in order to “complete the look” with accuracy. It was complicated at best; a look that required additional materials such as ribbons and a wire framework according to the woman narrating the video. Perhaps Theon would be able to construct the frame, even with the minutes to their mandatory arrival slowly crawling closer.

A bump to his knee – touch, a sense absent from the information’s consumption – jolted him out of the mindless state he previously entertained. Hazel eyes cleared to reveal the familiar face of a friend, her gaze holding a level of exasperation that meant she had likely attempted to grasp his attention in more common ways such as calling his name.  His surroundings slowly came back and with it the awareness of an offered shirt hanging loosely in her grip. Without conscious thought, a scowl overtook his features. DATA loathed to engage in the event required under the Benefactor’s authority. He had never been to a ball; and while the romantic comedies he indulged in frequently depicted the events as some whimsical fantasy, DATA knew any ball sponsored by the Benefactor would not hold the same fanciful air.

Ignoring the ironed shirt still held out for him, DATA stood up and studied Eretria’s flowing hair. His movements held no caution as he reached out to card his fingers through the strands. “I would like to style your hair,” he said with certainty previously foreign from his speech pattern. His progress with Theon and the forgiveness that was granted by both parties for mistakes made allowed a renewed confidence to overtake him. “I have watched many instructional videos on various hairstyles throughout the human history. I believe a fontange hairstyle would be adequately appropriate for such a formal occasion.”

[curiouscalculations-archive]

theonwyndham:

”will you just think about it, Theon?”

“I don’t understand the point. Will it change your feelings towards me?” “Of course not ! Just- See it as a testament. Of my undying love for you. Marriage is not logical, Theon.” A sigh, the sound of the door opening. “Promise me you’ll think about it, yeah? We’ll talk about it more tonight. I’ll find even more reasons to convince you to marry me.”

Eli never came back that night, took with him a part of Theon’s own humanity. Left his human heart in pieces. His mother always insisted it was too sensitive, too fragile. Like hers. As long as it did not destroy him, she warned; protect it, cherish it. Eli’s sudden departure left a gaping hole in his chest, one Theon never understood. His heart was not there anymore, only darkness and emptiness. Theon was lost, oblivious to the ways to alleviate the pain. “I do miss him.” Days after days, the obsession of trying to figure out how his partner would have smiled as he gave his answer. What he would have said, in the dark of the night, bodies pressed together. Another memory stolen, inexistent. He had never been good with feelings, how did they expect him to deal with something as tragic as this?

Was it better not to feel at all? “I would rather be in his place.” A dangerous thought, one he danced with too many times since Eli’s death. Anger had left, sadness replacing it without a beat. He would have preferred to stay with the former, finding the fault in others’ actions, trying to find a way to make them pay, knowing he had absolutely no weight to shift the balance of things. Sorrow had devour him whole, though. His sanity gone, replaced by the same obsession as always. Desperate to find them again, those absent smiles and kisses. Theon did the only thing he seemed to be good at, he created. It was a bad idea, a terrible idea. But it had been the only one that kept him from joining Eli on the other side.

A mad scientist with depression. Eli would have laughed, probably.

Theon did not, though. Couldn’t remember the last time a carefree one left his lips. Data had been a blessing, someone to take care of. Someone he could not imagine leaving alone. Numerous times did he find himself foolish, to have put Eli’s face on his android. Some things were different, his eyes held less green, and his smile was more … free. Open. Theon felt extremely guilty, it seemed that his inability to deal with emotions had been transmitted to Data. He should have been better to him. A better friend. A better companion. Maybe Treia’s had been right, after all.

“But I’m not.” No, Theon was not dead. He was here, in this cramped tent, on this stupid mission to steal some code that would reveal some artifact that would save the world. He never realized the world needed saving; humans did deserve most of what happened to them after all. “I have you now.” He tilted his head, hoping the words would hold enough guilt that Data would find in his robotic heart to forgive him a little. Lifting his eyes, he offered a tentative smile. The android’s features were only illuminated from the light coming from his IBA and if Theon had been courageous enough, maybe he would have reached for his hand, or his cheek. But he was a coward, especially when it came to owning up to Data.

Affirmation of the emotions DATA knew Theon still housed for his departed lover sent a searing pain through his form. Perhaps he held more empathy than either of them believed, as hearing words already realized still managed to cause unbearable grief. Yet it was not the brutal repeat of pain DATA seemed desperate to obtain in every recent interaction he had with his creator, but rather the destruction of a fantasy protected by his own hopeful ignorance, a dream disappearing with the broken daylight of reality. Unwilling to allow such pain to play across his features, DATA turned his gaze to the fidgeting fingers that rested against the soft denim he wore.

I would rather be in his place. Head jerking up in a sudden motion, DATA had no time to school his features into anything other than the honest horror. Theon could not wish for the welcoming embrace of death – it was simple as that. The genius had too much to give the world, too much potential to waste on the tragedy of an unhappy ending.

Theon's words did little to dissuade the dark expression of grief overtaking his features, but his hopeful eyes and shaky smile provided the proof DATA needed of his creator’s honesty. DATA's stubborn heart, perfect in its mechanical rhythm, refused to skip a beat as it should have when faced with a fond look thrown his way. Theon did not have Eli anymore, and that is why DATA was here – a replica of the life Theon always wanted, distorted beneath the weight of things as they are, not as they should be.

“You have me,” he repeated. Watching Theon’s fragile features still crafted with a hopeful smile, DATA slowly moved forward. He could give Theon what he wanted. Already donning the face of his lover, DATA realized his purpose was not one of ingenuity but imitation.

Finding courage in his insecurity, DATA did not allow hesitation to slow the actions he had already committed to. Eyes shut (just like in the movies), Data surged forward and allowed his lips to meet Theon’s. A gentle caress, undemanding in action alone, moved over unresponsive lips until his ears picked up on the subtle sound of pleasure; and suddenly, Theon was kissing back. Clumsy in his own ardent innocence, DATA wondered if Theon had programmed this action into him as well.

It was short and sweet, but the sweetness would turn sour in hindsight if DATA allowed their kiss to be something of action alone. Reluctantly pulling back, DATA left only a bare breath of space between their lips. “See? You don’t have to miss him. I can be just like him.”

[curiouscalculations-archive]

nyenashastri:

Date: August 29th 3:30pm Location: SSV Concord (Cargo Bay) Status: Closed @curiouscalculations

Nyena collapsed in the chair by her work station, folding her legs underneath her before tilting back to stare blankly at the ceiling. She followed the steel beams with her eye mindlessly as her lithe frame fidgeted in the seat, attempting to find some sort of comfortable position to rest in. Her body was wracked with exhaustion. Nyena had found herself unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time since she had woken up in the med bay several days ago. Several sleepless night’s in a row did nothing for her already short temperament. At four this morning she had rolled out of her bunk, frustration seeping from every pore as she stormed out of the sleeping quarters. Since then she had been working on repairing the crew’s armor, most of it having fallen to pieces when the shit hit the fan. Apparently our holier than thou benefactor decided bullet proof equipment was not at the top of his priorities, she thought bitterly, well aware the angry slice on her face was likely to leave a permanent scar in it’s wake. Patching up the armor had taken up most of her day, giving her the busy work she so sorely needed to distract herself during the last stretch of the journey back to Wrotham. At the sound of someone approaching she tilted her head forward, locking eyes with Data’s familiar small form. After a few moments of silence she rolled her only functioning eye before tilting back to look towards the ceiling once more. “Well look who can walk again.”

Contrary to most members of the crew, DATA was not laying on a bed in the medical unit of the ship in the days following their failed mission. Instead, amber eyes opened to focus on the familiar equipment littering every surface of Theon’s makeshift lab settled in the unusually quiet Cargo Bay. Initial tests and warnings of various systems still offline flashed before him as he attempted to find function in his legs; it was a strange sensation, one that reminded him of the first time he had opened his eyes to the world.

Worry wracked through his still partially paralyzed frame as DATA wondered why he had woken up alone. Surely he was not the only survivor if he awoke to the friendly environment of the SSV Concord; someone would have saved him. Notes of the crew’s initial debrief for the unsuccessful mission flooded his mind with little prompting. Testimonies from those able to give them allowed him the reassurance that there had been no casualties despite the blood that still stained every memory of the facility.

Finally finding some ability in his weak and twitching limbs, DATA pushed himself up from his previous position laid out on what was likely supposed to be a bed of some kind. It took longer than he would like to find his footing, absent of any help from his creator whose last expression had been one of betrayal and anger – no wonder DATA had woken up to find only loneliness for company.

Staggering to his feet, DATA searched for some other form of life amongst the empty Cargo Bay. His gaze honed in on the isolated figure of the ship’s mechanic, a woman he seldom talked to by her obvious avoidance of him. He approached her with caution, allowing her the option to leave before he even reached her; however, she remained stationary in her position, only moving her head to acknowledge his sudden presence.

Her words brought a smile to his face, friendly and polite under the misunderstanding of her tone – was she making some form of a joke? He didn’t dare voice his inquiry, fearing that it would serve to remind her of the otherness he still emitted. “I wanted to- to- to- to- to- to-“ His mouth snapped shut as tendrils of shame began to claw their way up his steel frame in the form of a blush. Perhaps the injuries sustained during the mission had not yet been addressed by his creator. A deep breath, unneeded for the function of his lungs but required to calm his suddenly panicked heart, brought a reassurance needed to continue. “To thank you,” he finished with careful, measured words to avoid another obvious glitch.

[curiouscalculations-archive]

➳ do you have romantic feelings for Theon?

[curiouscalculations-archive]

➳ how do you feel about the individuals in group one?

I enjoy the company of all those on the crew. Augustus, Orion, and Pyre have been very kind to me. Kallia... I hold some hesitation toward her at the moment but I still consider her a friend. Thane, Nyena, and Raven, I believe, do not care for my company. 

[curiouscalculations-archive]

➳ + if you were to pick a crewmember to teach you something, what would it be/who would be the teacher?

“Theon has taught me many things already. I believe he would be best suited for any further education. However, Fox has taught me how to fight - I would very much enjoy learning more from him if he thought he could enlighten me on a new topic.” 

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➳ how badly do you want to fuck theon

“I- I don’t have such a desire...” 

[curiouscalculations-archive]

➳ do you have a self lubricating ass

[nobodynothin-deactivated2016070]

Send me a ➳ + a question for my muse’s answer!

[museinspo]

nobodynothin:

Go ahead, ask my muse anything for an honest answer.