Can I see?

a favor captain, a word with you. i think i've gone and lost my mind. my right eye has done shed a tear. my gun i've left behind. will systems take me home and disassemble me? will i be termineated with you near? alongside the others that i hold so close. if i'm to be killed, then when? by whom? affiliated with stella city

[sinprinsipio]

@ofyorha

“Do you happen to know why so many sheep seem to hold high positions in municipal and civil services? I was under the impression that only humans had capacity for creating and maintaining such formless systems. Does this prove that I am within another world entirely?”

Just dumped all of those questions on her, without even thinking to introduce himself or ease into the topic.

[sinprinsipio]

--01110011 crying 0s and i’m nearing 111--

funnily enough, the Talosians weren’t originally going to be so ‘robotic’. my first conception of Sizer had him being made entirely of clay and being specifically referred to as a golem. Sizer was still going to be the first of his kind to have somehow been created with emotions, since it’s meant to mirror the biblical creation, where before adam was turned human with god’s word, he was a formless golem made of mud. 

then i wanted to have fun with the myth of Talos in his narrative. so the Talosians came about as automatons molded from clay and gears. it’s this sort of melding of technology and magic that i really love as a concept for a world. 

there’s coding in the minds of every Talosian, including Sizer, that is the entirety of their programming, written in a complex magical rune system that’s placed in their mouth or forehead. this in turn is propagated through the Talosian’s body through this science-y magic-y fluid called ichor. these two systems join together the Talos myth of a crafted automaton with ‘ichor’, the blood of gods and immortals, and the jewish motif of names and words holding powerful meaning (shem, a hidden name of god, is explicitly necessary to animate a golem).

Sizer’s connection to golems of jewish myth and to the myth of Talos himself is a bit more straightforward than i usually go about my metareference fuckery: golems are servile and aimless beings, and Talos mindlessly guards Europa, created by Daedalus (in some versions of the myth) for that one purpose. both cases relate to Sizer’s one purpose in life and his aimless nature clinging to a ‘master’ to provide purpose for him.

this in turn implies a journey to ‘become human’, at least in the sense of finding an individuality. given how i usually am with my characters and how Talos’ own ichor is displayed in his myth, i don’t think that ending is the one Sizer will get. 

keep this boy far away from anyone named Medea, at least.

[sinprinsipio]

yoyo sizermun here and i’m very frightened and nervous because i am always like that treading new ground with a muse who isn’t a loud knob bent on being the most boisterous tool in the room. help me.

ahhhhhhhhhh well lets get right to it then aye. like this for a varied length starter as i try to stretch this robutt’s legs and give it the ol proverbial walk.

[sinprinsipio]

Embodied in Shadow

There was a flash, a spark of creation. A secondary impulse that flooded sensation. Movement became possible. Awareness of movement soon followed. Feeling reacted towards action. Now, encoded from within, came a single question that persisted forevermore.

01010111 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01110010 00111111

[sinprinsipio]

Embodied in Love

There was a flash, a spark of creation. A secondary impulse that flooded sensation. Movement became possible. Awareness of movement soon followed. Feeling reacted towards action. Now, encoded from within, emotion from what had occurred overwhelmed every faculty for thought.

There was someone there, staring down at him. A boy, not Creator. It was the most logical thought to conclude it was this boy whom had reassembled him. It took him time to respond to what the boy appeared to be saying.

All he could think of was the fact he had been discarded. He read his surroundings. He had been dumped in an alley.

“Sizar Cayo El 3rd Cycle Model 5UA,” he replied to the boy’s question of who he was.

The boy only appeared perplexed.

“Sizer?” was all the boy responded with after a time.

“Yes.” He guessed that was his name now.

Sizer had once more been given life. Reborn after being disassembled and considered a failure. It was all thanks to this boy. He wanted to show gratitude; a drive for action that felt strange to him.

“No thanks,” the boy turned down his request. “I don’t need to be owed anything by some dusty old bucket of gears.”

“Noted,” Sizer took to memory the reason for his denial. He also felt a bit dejected.

Even so, Sizer would continue to persist, going against a direct order to put such a matter aside by the boy. Sizer followed the boy until slowly, and aided by his defending the boy from cutthroats, the boy would come to accept Sizer as a permanent fixture by his side.

The boy even allowed Sizer to call him ‘Master’.

Master was always a distracted individual--his quirk seemed to always be getting into the middle of things that piqued his interest at that exact moment. It was illogical to Sizer. It was better to plan ahead and take all variables into account, proceeding with the best course of action that could maximize efficiency and minimize 1.) effort, 2.) casualties, if possible.

Ah, that was his war machine programming at fault.

Master was fond of running headfirst into things, either way. And he did run headfirst into a guy who’d tried mugging someone in front of him once. That started a bar fight that took a few burnt tables and also people to stop. Then Master told Sizer to run, and he did. He ran with him.

That was the habit. Sizer ran with Master, no matter what Master did. Just ran with him. It was something he appeared to be fond of.

Oh, he supposed he found it fun.

Strange how Master brought forth all these new emotions, when Creator had only brought forth feelings of sadness and regret. Perhaps Master was the better person?

At one point in time, they decided to squat in an abandoned house along the farthest edges of a small village. He would hunt game with Master in the woods. Master patted his head whenever Sizer brought back more game than usual. It felt nice.

Master started to miss vegetables, which he said was very weird because vegetables were icky. Sizer didn’t comprehend this, though he did note that vegetables tasted bitter. So Master started a garden, and grew not only vegetables but also fruit. And something called ‘decorative flora’. Sizer didn’t understand what purpose that served, but their scent was comforting.

Soon, Master was drafted into war. Sizer was to follow with.

Master trained hard, but didn’t seem to want to. Sizer understood.

Master fought in his first battle, and he cried after staring into the distance for an hour. Sizer wished he could cry along with him.

Master was going to die, once. Sizer wouldn’t allow it. A grenade would have killed Master, but Sizer blocked it. There, he was dismantled once more.

Sizer didn’t know why he’d done so. It was not in his programming.

So it went.

[sinprinsipio]

3 Evils

There was a flash, a spark of creation. A secondary impulse that flooded sensation. Movement became possible. Awareness of movement soon followed. Feeling reacted towards action. Now, encoded from within, knowledge of what all this was was brokered and discerned.

This was ‘birth’ for a Talosian. When every gear interlocked and every synapse clicked in place. When consciousness was given from data gathered. Afterwards, what followed was the orders implanted and the complex functions in the mind to bring about their execution.

That was all.

No question of existence. No wondering as to why. Only following and loyalty.

They weren’t given personality, but only a false likeness to it. There would be unease and fear if someone were to interact with a heartless machine, after all. Bare minimum, an illusion of a real being, to functionally improve interaction. There was no emotion.

At least, there shouldn’t have been, in his case.

Something had gone wrong within him. Machinery had engendered a spirit, in a sort of sense. Here he was, a kinetic puppet, a tool built specifically capable to react to every possible stimuli and adjust for its purpose, wondering why this purpose was his.

Built for war? Meant to kill? What did it mean to kill, to take a life? To terminate a being on the side opposite him, but what for?

His creator said it just was so, but why was it so? Was the reason simple or complex?

He didn’t even know if it were, but the fact remained that he wondered if it was.

He was defective.

Creator said so. How could a war machine fight in a war if it questioned the reason to fight in a war to begin with? It made him sad to think that Creator had become so disappointed in him. As a creation, he was a failure.

But there was more to this moment.

It made him sad. It made him think. It him realize he felt sadness. It made him realize he thought things regardless of his purpose.

Confusion flooded his being. Conflict upon conflict upon doubt. Throughout his mind, ‘Why?’  Why did he feel sad? Why had he failed his sole purpose? Why was it even his purpose?

Why was Creator angry?

Why was Creator screaming and breaking objects? Why did Creator call him a mistake? Why was Creator dismantling him?

Why?

[yddop]

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‘cause I’ll never, Never sleep alone