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ok! things are mostly set up, so as this blog slowly gets back on its feet, i’m going to put up a permanent starter call here!

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hello vonnie
dirt enthusiast
almost home

pixel skylines
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Today's Document
NASA
trying on a metaphor

Love Begins

izzy's playlists!
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Jules of Nature

@theartofmadeline

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Sade Olutola
KIROKAZE
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Xuebing Du

#extradirty
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seen from Malaysia
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@positronicminds
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ok! things are mostly set up, so as this blog slowly gets back on its feet, i’m going to put up a permanent starter call here!
“respect is ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ, not bestowed.”
semi-selective, independent, low-mid activity DEANNA TROI written by court
this is the most movie ever made
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sorry for the bad timing, but it’s the end of my senior year and things have really picked up-- i’ll be back after graduation in a few weeks, tysm!
bystcrdust:
She’s delighted, to say the least, both by his response, and by the fact that he hadn’t told her to leave him alone, that this wasn’t the space for a child around. Her hands clap together in excitement a warm smile taking over her features. “Oh, wonderful!”
None of her questions pertained to anything regarding her position, the real reason they were here, but they all were interesting to Adrastea.
What was she to start with? Seeing as the briefing before they had left Paradise was… Sporadic, as most of the others had gotten individual ones, she was left either joining in or wandering. “Have you been here long? I haven’t been out of Paradise in a calm area for a while.” The last few stops had been mostly to check with those who had allied with them recently, or to planets where there was still some sense of a revolt.
Now, however? It was calm, and though he didn’t seem to be a man of many words, that hardly phased her. “There are so many interesting places in the galaxy, like here! Is there anywhere here that you’d recommend going to? I get a lot of free time while we’re here.”
She seems happy. B-4 smiles slowly, mirroring her expression, and claps his hands together, too. There is something slightly off about his timing and the curve of his smile, but he does seem genuinely excited.
“I do not know,” he says, still smiling happily. “What is ‘long’?”
His internal chronometer is mostly accurate, when it’s not malfunctioning. He has a good estimate of the amount of time that has passed since his activation, but whether or not that counts as a “long” time is not something his clock can tell him.
“What is Paradise-- like?”
These are not the sorts of questions he had expected. While the first was predictably beyond him, the second is a question of opinion. B-4 has opinions.
“I like being at my home. I see my father there. I also see my mother there.” His head cocks as he looks around, considering. “I like to visit the forest. And the Handy farm. Do you... like animals? There are animals in those places, and you are allowed to touch them if they come to you. ...I could bring you there!”
i am unofficially official DaForge garbage save me
actually don’t i’m happy.. it makes me happy..
this blog shall officially be a place to hide my shame fanart, nsfw art and i don’t know’s ;D
@positronicminds liked for a starter ( for data! )
Sirise calls his attention by placing a hand on his shoulder – which, to be fair, is a rather personal way to introduce herself, but perhaps that energy is correct for their meeting, seeing as she’s tracked him down personally. “Hey!” Her mic pops up moments after she waves. A small holographic screen, oblong and fit with clean letters. “Are you LT CMDR Data?”
He turns to face her with a few small, curious jerks of his head, mirroring her wave with a raised hand after a few seconds.
He does not recognize the lieutenant, but she has correctly identified him. It’s not altogether uncommon for Data to be approached by people who know more about him than he does about them, whether they’re visiting researchers, cyberneticists, or have simply heard about him from other members of the crew before coming across him in person. He finds himself equally intrigued each time, however, and this instance is no exception-- despite his blank expression, there is an obvious hint of polite interest in his eyes as his gaze flicks up from her screen back to her face.
“I am. Did you wish to see me?”
After another moment of consideration, he repeats himself in FSSL, making one addition to his response.
“Would it be preferable for me to communicate nonverbally?”
{ @positronicminds }
Traveling for diplomatic reasons were almost always preferred if she was to leave Paradise. It meant less guards, less waving, and more free reign. She could wander about with almost no consequences, so long as she returned when called. That, and it meant she could find people who weren’t other elites to speak to, today’s target being someone she had seen for a few days, and was at least somewhat interested in speaking to for reasons other than what she’d start with.
Adrastea practically beelines for the man when she sees him alone, making sure that she’s approaching in a way he could see her, and she stops before him, a hand extended. “Excuse me, do you have a few moments to answer some questions? I don’t know if you’ve seen me around, or heard my name, but-” She takes a breath, trying to settle down before she overwhelms anyone. “Adrastea Áed, here with the rest of Titan’s Elite.”
B-4 watches the stranger’s approach, eyes wide and curious. There’s something about her that seems set apart from the other humanoids he’s seen, but what that might be eludes him completely. Perhaps it’s the simple fact that she’s approaching him, offering her hand as though he knows what to do with it.
The prototype stares for a moment, slowly reaching out to touch her extended hand. He smiles, his expression blank and hopeful and inviting.
“Hello.” Has he heard that name? He isn’t sure. But he knows the other one, vaguely, and he looks at her with shock. Why would a member of the Titan’s Elite want to ask him questions? He’s usually the one requesting clarification from everyone else-- he doesn’t know anything that might be of interest to Adrastea.
“Yes,” he says anyway, because he has many moments free right now, and the girl didn’t ask if he could answer her questions, just if he had time to.
He will do his best.
Inner Lights by Shade [ Twitter | Instagram | DeviantArt ]
let me assign you a celestial body
neptune. you've been hurt, deeply. you're scared to make connections again after all that's happened, and you have a hard time believing people genuinely care about you. you tend to be a loner, struggling to fit in with acquaintances, and you probably feel like you're socially awkward. you're probably involved with various forms of art, music, or dance. you have detailed dreams and may be in touch with your spiritual side; the earth is your home and you feel most at peace in nature. your friend groups tend to be small, you don't interact with many people. though you've been hurt, you know that you still believe in the kindness of humanity. in the past or present, you feel like you haven't been loved the way you should be. despite all this, you are one hell of a light. the things you make are truly beautiful, and you are trying your best. you should be proud. allow yourself to be adored the way you deserve. i love you.
tagged by: stolen from @sampati !! tagging: @bystcrdust / @outlawiism / @proditeur / @waywardcollective / @flightsimulation / @mvrderbot / @perihelionpilot / @goodliest / @bonetagonist / @ncthingstars / and you!
“In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who loses a child.”
data when his extensive lifelong research into social situations has failed to prepare him for the unique and terrible awkwardness of almost having a drink spilled down his front
☆ ESTABLISHING TRANSMISSION WITH : [ @positronicminds ]
THERE’S A strangled gasp tangled in his throat when he just barely manages to save the drink from tipping off the tray and spilling all over Data’s nice yellow uniform; the pause between his almost-blunder and the awkward aftermath is stifling, staring at Data with parted lips as he struggles to decide whether to apologize or simply act like nothing happened.
INEVITABLY, 683 goes with the latter. Deftly slapping down a napkin, he carefully places the glass of water onto it, ensuring safe transport to the table surface with no further incidents. ❝ Welcome to the station ! ❞ he says, full of chipper cheer. ❝ You’re probably one of the new Starfleet people who just came aboard. ❞ There has to be a more eloquent way to describe the crew of the visiting ship, but he’s still vastly unfamiliar with Federation-standard terminology; he makes do with his assumptions. ❝ Can I get you something to drink ? Or to eat ? ❞ he asks, fumbling to manage the tray under his arm and pull the padd loose from his apron. ❝ First time visitors get a free drink ! ❞ he offers excitably, ❝ but, um, after that, you have to pay. ❞
Neither Data nor the waiter seem quite sure how to react to her quick reflexes, and so, for a long few moments, they don’t. Brows raised and gaze flicking from the drink to its narrowly-avoided destination of his own shirtfront, the android seems to be considering speaking up, but is saved from having to do so by his server’s timely shift in topic. Data’s perfectly content to move on without comment; no unfortunate spills have actually occurred, after all, and it’s not as though he could have cared even if they had.
“Thank you,” he says, watching the waiter handle the glass in case another dangerous tilt makes his own reflexes become necessary. “That is correct. Have you met any of the others?”
Most of those visiting seem preoccupied with their own tasks or routes of exploration, and Data has been left to find his own way around the station. Even Geordi has declined to accompany him this time, and Data has taken the opportunity to people-watch and practice interacting with strangers without his crew around to offer support and advice.
Considering his reaction-- or lack thereof-- to the near-spill, he isn’t sure how successful this attempt has been so far.
“I will only have the one drink, then, as I have neglected to bring money with me.” It’s unlikely that anything with a silicon-based liquid is a common order here, despite the range of lifeforms aboard, but that’s fine-- any order will make a good excuse for staying and chatting more.
“Do you have a recommendation?”
bystcrdust:
At first the ship had been perfect for what she needed. Small, quick, and the crew hadn’t seemed to notice her. So long as she could keep herself hidden, which normally wasn’t much of an issue for the Vengess, the ride was going to be smooth. Maybe she’d finally catch up on some much needed rest.
All of those ideas fly out the window as the sounds of violence erupt around her, shouts and cries, death and destruction. Ava doesn’t dare move until it’s settled, and even then she only moves enough to get away from a corpse that had landed near her. After all she’s been through, that shouldn’t be as shocking of a sight as it is.
Finally, finally, Ava works up the courage to leave her hiding spot, creeping to look out for any signs of life, to see what had happened. Seeing someone wasn’t entirely out of the question, but it doesn’t stop her from letting out a strangled cry as they make eye contact, and the teenager scrambles back towards her hiding spot. Not that she gets very far before she hears him approaching, and she’s once again frozen in fear.
“Ah, f-funny story-”, she says, hands moving up in what she hopes is still a universal sign of peace, of non-violence. “I k-know a stowaway is bad, b-but, uhm…” Trailing off, Ava looks around wildly, looking for something to focus on that wasn’t him.
“…S-Swear I won’t say a damn thing if you let me stay on.” Playing to the notion of secrecy was far easier. “‘M… Hiding out, s-so there’s no way ‘m gonna sn-snitch on you.” If he was at all familiar with any galactic wanted boards, he might actually recognize her.
He laughs at that, the cocky, cruel edge to his mirth entirely at odds with his initial reaction.
“Say anything to whom? Everyone else aboard is dead already. And tossing you into the vacuum of space would assure me of your silence far better than your word alone.”
Lore eyes her, crossing his arms, and considers her with mild interest. He’s not impressed by her promise of secrecy, but that second part-- hm. She certainly looks as though she’s been on the run, if her clothing and the... general state of her appearance is anything to go by.
He has no sympathy for her situation. She’s an organic, and he can’t afford to fall for every sob story he meets now that he’s out in the big wide universe. And yet...
“Are you, now.” Lore leans against the doorway. He's going to kill her, of course, but he can wait-- she’s clearly not a threat, and he could use some amusement on the long trip. His willingness to let her talk has nothing at all to do with compassion, though, or with curiosity about a life that might be more similar to his own than that of any non-Soong he’s met before. Not at all.
“Why don’t you elaborate? Make your story interesting enough, and I might not even get bored of you until the end.”
2016: A confusing, sudden, and violent conversion into a Trekkie
perihelionpilot:
“Just you,” it confirms.
Not a fan of people, then. “My crew are good people,” it says, because that’s the truth. It doesn’t really expect B-4 to sustain a debate in the abstract like this, though. Maybe it can explain better later (it is already designing approaches that he might be more amenable to). Either way, it won’t force him to stay.
Oh, hmm, that’s a lot of wrong assumptions. It should be more exact with the things it says. Although, even running back over its own dialogue, it doesn’t think it could have predicted this train of thought–or at least not assigned it any appropriately high likelihood percentage.
“I have never met Noonien Soong. I read about him.” It didn’t really ‘read’, per se, but that is the simplest way to convey it, especially if he is more used to humans than other bots. “You did not create me. It is very likely that you don’t know anyone who was involved in my creation. …I apologize for the confusion.”
There are a few ways out of this room; Perihelion decides to open the door B-4 is facing towards. The control deck is objectively the most risky place to let an unattended foreign entity into, as that is also where most of its mind is located, but it isn’t terribly worried about B-4 trying anything. Nor about its capability to prevent damages if he did.
There are terminals here, although at this point they’re more to avoid visitors’ suspicion than to be functional. It doesn’t need commands contextualized as computer input.
“This is the control deck,” it tells him. “If I did not fly myself, humans would fly me from here.”
He doesn’t respond to that, but his eyes do flick back and forth as he considers the claim. He likes his new vessel; Peri is fun and kind to him in a way that no other spaceship has been before. People sometimes say things that B-4 later learns are incorrect, but he has no reason to believe that that would be the case now. Perihelion’s crew are good people. B-4 does not know whether he wants to meet them when they return.
“Oh,” he says, thinking again. “That is alright-- I am not confused anymore.”
The door opens for him. Despite knowing that the entryway is a part of Perihelion, B-4 does not consider that the ship might be choosing his path for him. Doors open when one goes near them, unless they do not-- and if they do not, that’s usually a good indicator that B-4 isn’t supposed to be in whatever special, secret rooms lurk beyond. He takes the opportunity presented to him and walks through the open door.
His expression lights up with interest when he finds himself out of the room with chairs and in a room with computers. He knows what these are-- he is a computer, too, after all!-- but has never been allowed so close to them without supervision and a cable trailing from his head. They’re important, and special, and fascinating.
B-4 takes a few hurried, excited steps toward the nearest console, then slows guiltily, as if expecting to be reprimanded. ...but the ship has said he is allowed here, and has not changed its mind yet, so...
“What does this do?” he asks, pointing at a control in the upper leftmost corner of the terminal. “What does this do?” he asks, pointing at a control just to the right of that one. “What does this do?” he asks, moving his finger to the right again, and then seems to realize something about Peri’s explanation of the control room that gives pause to what was sure to be a rather long series of questions.
“Are-- humans-- the only ones who can?” B-4′s gaze flicks again, looking around at the empty room.
“...can I fly you? I am. Shaped like a human. And it is just us here.”