pull up a chair and sit beside the fire

I'd best go see the world for myself instead of burying my head in books! (Pascal RP blog affilated with isola radiale!)

[flxwersfxrmachines]

whxrlwxnd‌:

＞　It seemed like every other word the machine spoke just deepened his confusion. He was thankful at least that the stranger wasn’t hostile.

     “I can’t say I’ve met a machine before! Does that mean you’re all metal in there, or,” Zaveid takes his turn to invade the others personal space and knocks on Pascal’s chassis. “Are you empty? Physically speaking. Not metaphorically.” Whatever that could possibly mean.

     “Not sure what you mean by ‘an organic’, but,” He pounds at his chest with a closed fist, giving them a warm smile. “Got skin. Bones. Blood. Probably some other stuff in here. And I’m alive.“ Alive as can be, despite circumstances trying their hardest to make it otherwise. 

“I have some systems inside, like my engine and my core, but much of my chassis is hollow, yes! And I’m alive. As far as I’ve been able to discern. I like to think I’m alive...” Pascal’s meter twitches off-beat as Zaveid thunks their chest, but they seem otherwise unperturbed, even encouraged by his physical action. They take the chance to reach out and pat his chest the same way. Maybe this was some kind of greeting? 

“But that’s amazing! Blood, bones, skin...! I’m afraid I’ve only seen that on animals before. Though, of course, I know humans had it as well. It all seems like a lot of...work.” They muse, “Humans must be more advanced than animals, correct? Had any organics figured out how to..externalize their functions more adequately? The medical texts I’ve found are quite weathered...What I mean is, can you show me? Your bones?”

[gr4ndciseaux]

rbff (robo-best friend forever) ; pascal

[flxwersfxrmachines]

gr4ndciseaux‌:

Hajime is even more intrigued and delighted by this development. She beams, and she looks over at the figures at Pascal touches one of them, thoughtful and considering. “As long as they have each other,” she agrees. “Then that’s okay. It’s hard to be alone, but if you have someone, you can weather most anything!”

She swings her legs, though the bench is too low for her to manage much before her feet scrape the ground. “Oh, me? Nope!” She beams. “This is me! Hajime! But sometimes I do wear a cool robot suit. It’s cute and pink. But I’m always just me, even in the suit.”

She taps a finger to her chin, then, looking at Pascal with a curious glint in her eyes. “Pascal, are you an alien? If i were at home, I’d guess that you were, but I know this place has people from a loooot of different places.”

“I can’t just assume here, can I? I gotta take the time to really learn about how other people’s homes are and what’s normal for them!”

“Would it be even stranger for me to say I don’t know if I’m an alien? The androids from my home say we were built by aliens, but I’ve never even seen one! Or a human, for that matter. But, the androids know much more than I do...So I suppose they would know better....” They trail off for a moment, clearly lost in their own tangle of clarifications.

“Aren’t we all aliens here, though?” Pascal gestures to the ghostly figures once more, “They were here first, after all.”

They realize only after they’ve started to do it that they were also slightly swinging their legs alongside hers, her enthusiasm infectious. Pascal’s copy of the movement is more stilted, more like they were raising their leg and letting it fall than a ‘swing’. 

“So you can transfer your consciousness into this suit without your core?” They say, and their eyes shift slightly, like a pair of binoculars twisting in to fit someone’s face more adequately, “That’s quite amazing! You have two fascinating bodies, Hajime!” 

Pascal nods, a note of pride and congratulation in their voice. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

whxrlwxnd‌:

＞　He blinks.

  And he blinks again.

     “Uh. Zaveid.” He takes the offered hand, raising an eyebrow when all he feels is cool metal. “Nice to meet you too?”

  He’s been in the city for a little while now, and he’s seen some pretty weird things. Some pretty weird people. So there’s a first time for everything, whether it be a fallen angel or some kind of… metal… person…?

     “Sorry, did who send me? I’m afraid I don’t really follow.” The seraph turns his confused expression up into a friendly smile. “Also, this might sound rude, but can I ask what you are?”

“YoHRA...?” They try again, but drop the rest of the question when they see Zaveid isn’t getting any less confused. Pascal supposes they were mistaken, with a small pang of disappointment. At least he was friendly!

“I’m a machine.” Pascal clarifies instead, “But not like rest! I promise, I have no interest in fighting, even if you aren’t an android!” 

“But if you aren’t an android...” They awkwardly bend their other arm to rest on their ‘hip’, “Are you an organic? You look so much like an Attacker unit...But it must have been rude of me to assume.” 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

hollowstorms‌:

He feels rather young again, doesn’t he. Never has he wished for his voice again then this feeling of-

No wait. Right he can still say hi. He just forgot how words work since most of the dragons had died off. Plunging the world into a age where everything keeps repeating over and over again. 

At least with the dragons, the abyss was actually afraid to last against them. 

Or cautious. 

He pats the ground beside him. 

Sit, it seems to say. 

They laugh a bit, starting to understand the way this person had to communicate. 

It made sense, in a way, that foregoing speech would be simpler than trying to remember all of the different ways people spoke to each other. Pascal had made more than a few mistakes of their own when learning to communicate outside of their machine network - where meaning was implicit and words were foregone.

Pascal happily sits beside him. 

“Might I ask what to call you?”  They ask, “That is, if anything at all.”

[gr4ndciseaux]

rbff (robo-best friend forever) ; pascal

[flxwersfxrmachines]

gr4ndciseaux‌:

Hajime brightens at the clear presence of a kindred spirit, someone who’s also invested in getting through to these people however possible. And so friendly and sweet, too! She beams, and she takes Pascal’s hand with both of hers, shaking their hand enthusiastically.

“Hajime! It’s really nice to meet you, Pascal! It’s a shame that they’re being rude and not paying attention, I’m sure that your stories must be a lot of fun! I love to hear new stories.”

She smiles and she sits next to them, once she’s finally let go of their hand, all bright and bouncy energy. “I hope that they can at least talk to each other. It would be too sad if they couldn’t talk to anyone… No one should be so lonely.” And she looks over at the flickering figure, a faint furrow to her brow as she looks at them.

But then, something seems to occur her, like she’s just remembered she’s left an oven on as she bounces back upright, looking over at Pascal with wide eyes.

“Oh! I hope it’s not rude to ask you this! Are you a person in a suit, or is this your body? It’s a really cute body!”

“A suit..?”  Pascal laughs, “No, no! This is my body. It’s alright for you to ask, but I can’t imagine why.”  

They hadn’t considered the possibility of this new world having, well, organics in it. They don’t believe they’ve seen any yet, come to think of it. But it’s a big, strange world.

They turn their attention back to the ghostly figures, poking one of them with the tip of their finger and trying to comprehend the strange combination of touch-without-touch, the meeting point where their hand seems to disappear into the plane these people existed on but pass no further.

“I am sure they have each other. Networked machines are never alone. It is hard to say if they are happy or unhappy...but they are never alone.” They return their hand to their lap, “I was like them once.”

Pascal’s tone takes a melancholy edge as they speak of the apparitions, but they soon shake it - almost literally, a small ripple running up through their body as their engine jumps - and focus back on Hajime. 

“But not anymore! And now I get to meet people like you!” They nod enthusiastically, “But now I have to ask...are /you/ a person in a suit?” 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

reveuraventurier replied to your post: ((i…just realized i cant install xkit on invisible...

are u using invisible browsers for rp stuff? ive been making seperate users on chrome for my rp blogs which works great bc it also saves yr tags. seperate chromies for seperate characters

you saved my life lol ok everything is good now

[flxwersfxrmachines]

((i...just realized i cant install xkit on invisible broswers. so i cant edit reblogs or reply to replies. um. ill work this out somehow))

[dorgustorms-deactivated20180817]

flxwersfxrmachines‌:

  A great, hulking man with withered skin and an empty face. Pascal is sure they’ve only seen such things in books. They access their memory of ancient human works, pulling up images of ‘ogres’ and ‘trolls’ and ‘giants’. None of them seem to match.

 They stare back intently. Was this man even alive? Were they staring down a statue?

  Cautiously, they raise a hand and wave. 

The hand that waves back is equally as withered as the rest of his face. Dark and almost rotting to look at. If he could smile, he would have. But his face seems to be stuck in a state of perpetual agony. 

So the machine knew basic functions. He wonders what else this metal golem would know. 

 He motions the other to come closer. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

 Pascal approaches gladly, though their movements are stiff and slow. They sort through potential modes of communication with this new type of person. How woefully unequipped they would be for sign language...

 They crouch down in front of the man and study his poor face. He must be quite upset. 

 “Are you okay?” They ask and tilt their head to an unnatural angle. 

[gr4ndciseaux]

rbff (robo-best friend forever) ; pascal

@flxwersfxrmachines

She’s entranced. Totally entranced. She’s sitting on the bench, watching the robot in utter delight. They’re such a cute robot. She has to be their best friend right now. So, the girl gets up, putting the bag of candy in her back pocket and walking over to the robot, who seems to be having a rather peaceful time of it, sitting next to one of those ghostly figures, the both of them on the bench across from Hajime.

“Hi! Are you trying to talk to these guys too? It’s so hard to get them to talk to you. I’ve tried asking them everything I can think of! But none of them will tell me about their favorite ice cream shops or what color pens they like.”

[flxwersfxrmachines]

 Pascal perks up immediately. Had their ghostly companion finally spoken? They look left, right, and center until they spot Hajime as the actual source of the noise. Now they felt more than silly for assuming such a voice would come from a barely corporeal data ghost...

 But that does not dampen their delight at a friendly face. 

 “Hello! Yes, actually!” They chirp, then tap a finger on the blank lower half of their face, “But you’re right that they aren’t very talkative...I keep wondering if they are stuck in some kind of network, but they won’t tell me. It would explain why they have no favorite things!” 

 Their voice does the work of emoting where their face cannot, their disappointed tone exaggerated with a low crackle.

 “I’ve tried telling them some of my favorite stories from memory, but they didn’t pay attention. I thought they might prefer essays, but...” Pascal continues to ramble before realizing they had completely skipped pleasantries, “Ah, I’m so sorry! I’m Pascal. Nice to meet you!”

 They extend a jittery hand and the meter on their chest ticks in a happy rhythm. 

[dorgustorms-deactivated20180817]

flxwersfxrmachines liked your post “A small starter call while I get the things ready. warning if may get…”

A machine that moves on its own. He senses no outside interference at all coming from this machine. How odd. Sitting on the ground to appear less threatening, he wonders if this thing …

no its impossible. 

 “….”

A staring contest? Yes. Its likely. Or rather its hard to tell, because the hollowed form of the former god has no eyes to speak of. And he’s just staring in the robot general direction. 

Maybe he might nap soon. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

  A great, hulking man with withered skin and an empty face. Pascal is sure they’ve only seen such things in books. They access their memory of ancient human works, pulling up images of ‘ogres’ and ‘trolls’ and ‘giants’. None of them seem to match.

 They stare back intently. Was this man even alive? Were they staring down a statue?

  Cautiously, they raise a hand and wave. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

  Pascal jumps as the light washes over them - flooding their sensors in the moment of impact and leaving them suspended in a moment of white light. 

  As their vision blinks on again they see that grass has bloomed beneath their feet, crawling up around their ankles like they had been standing there for weeks. 

  They lean down and gently pick a flower they’ve never seen before, and watch dewdrops roll down its petals. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

@whxrlwxnd

  They’ve charted a path: one mile south of their house and twenty yards to the west there is a hill of rubbish that reaches higher than anything in the vicinity. Its high enough to provide a view of the land around, all the way to that horrible center of the island. Wind buffets them every time they climb it, and though they do not have to breathe, it rattles their outer plating quite uncomfortably.

  But, it provides an outward view. They hope at some point they’ll find an exit, or a landmark. Something.

  So they climb again. They get so tired flying here - only able to keep up momentum for a short period of time, but they waste it on the uphill portion for this trip. Their legs were going to need work again later, and the wind was awfully strong today.

  And for the first time they find someone at the top. Sleeping, his wild white hair tossed over his eyes and his arms folded behind his head as he rests against a curved sheet of metal. 

  “Hello…?” Pascal says, “Are you okay?”

[whxrlwxnd]

＞　One of the highest points in the city—sure, it appears to be mostly a mountain of human garbage, but the top was gusty, and there was plenty of sunlight(currently) for a nap.

  Zaveid has never had any trouble sleeping almost anywhere, a trend he’s noticed among others of his kind, feeding into his further evolving theory that seraphim were just some kind of evolved, ethereal cats. To be fair, some of them actually were cats. 

  He’s roused from his dozing by a rather soft voice; he hadn’t expected anybody to reach him here, figuring that 1. no one would want to climb all that rubbish for any reason in the first place, and 2. no one could. The seraph holds one hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, opening one to get a look at his surprise guest. 

  He is… not quite sure what he’s looking at. Who he’s looking at? Sitting up to assume a cross-legged position, he blinks owlishly at the odd contraption that seems to be speaking to him.

     “Uh, yeah? Are… are you?”

[flxwersfxrmachines]

  Pascal does not retreat from Zaveid’s personal space at first - having little understanding of the need. A delighted chirp rings out from a speaker somewhere inside their chest at his response.

  They study him a few moments longer. White hair, solid build, seemingly stronger than other creatures around here, resembling an organic but not quite...they wonder if he might be an android. 

  “I am as well as I can be,” they say with a wistful, digitized sigh, “I’ve never found anyone up here before! I was hoping you were not malfunctioning.”

  The way their eyes blink seems to be an attempt at imitating a smile. They fold their legs up inside their body and sit down next to Zaveid. 

  “I am Pascal. It is good to meet you!” They say and offer a hand, “Did YoHRA send you here?”

[memedelene]

MUSIC MEME; 

Send “♪” for a song that reminds me of my muse.  Send “♪ reverse” for a song that reminds me of your muse. Send “♫” for a song that reminds me of our muses relationship. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

@whxrlwxnd

  They’ve charted a path: one mile south of their house and twenty yards to the west there is a hill of rubbish that reaches higher than anything in the vicinity. Its high enough to provide a view of the land around, all the way to that horrible center of the island. Wind buffets them every time they climb it, and though they do not have to breathe, it rattles their outer plating quite uncomfortably.

  But, it provides an outward view. They hope at some point they’ll find an exit, or a landmark. Something.

  So they climb again. They get so tired flying here - only able to keep up momentum for a short period of time, but they waste it on the uphill portion for this trip. Their legs were going to need work again later, and the wind was awfully strong today.

  And for the first time they find someone at the top. Sleeping, his wild white hair tossed over his eyes and his arms folded behind his head as he rests against a curved sheet of metal. 

  “Hello...?” Pascal says, “Are you okay?”

[flxwersfxrmachines]

((thank u so much im glad i could give u a good one!!! ;u; take your time!))

[flxwersfxrmachines]

@sociennus

 Pascal does not find themself spending much time inside since arriving - everything is missing, after all. Their books, their building supplies, their stockpiles, and most importantly their children. So they wander instead.

 And oh, the things they’ve found! From behind the pile of rubble they were rooting around in they peek up to see a grand dragon - and immediately duck back down. It is a loud retreat, grinding and clanking in an attempt to make themself smaller.

 They wish to approach, but...but how? Ah - of course. They had no white cloth, but something else should get the message across... They pick up a brittle wood beam and tie a ragged strand of what seemed to be dirtied tarp to it. Raising it above the pile, they wave it slowly back and forth, hoping to impart their message of surrender. 

[flxwersfxrmachines]

   Reset timer complete. Initiating startup protocol. 

   Pascal’s internal systems whir into motion - their primary processor first, the engine responsible for their motor functions second, their internal heat monitor third. The rest follow like dominoes, one tripping the next and finally bringing them to full capability. It had been a long time since they had a complete shutdown, though, and their boot-up process is slow and dreary. 

   Searching for file VxcvGxc. File not found. Search again?

      They respond passively to the background prompts until everything is in order. One last message flickers across the inside of their vision, no prompt to answer: Isola radiale.

  Their vision flickers on, the pale green of their gaze no match for the pitch darkness before them. They’d read something about this once, staring into nothingness. They can’t remember right now whether it advised them to do it or not.

  The muttering voices of hundreds bloom around them: audio processors online.

   “Hello?” The driver repeats, “Please, allow me to take you to your home.”

   “Ah - coming! Wait. Who...?” They say, feeling more than a bit rude. Confusion is starting to set in, the pieces of their body that let them interpret emotion filling out into panic. Though it twists something in their chassis, the easiest thing to do for now is follow someone else’s lead. Wherever they were, it was far from home - trust was the only option. 

 If only they’d brought a car with wider seats...