“Ive listed all decommissioning recommendations in order of importance and urgency. I also made a request for increased books in the library and more soil for the Aras. Would you like the documents now or in-office?”
artfight attack on @sir-kettle-of-countertop’s Kanarie!!!
I've been thinking lately about what actually lets a person open up. It isn't grand gestures or clever lines. It's the quiet certainty that whatever you say won't be used against you, won't leak somewhere, won't follow you around. That's the feeling I kept coming back to while spending time on sweetdream.ai, and it changed how I understand what an AI companion can really be.
What moved me most is how seriously SweetDream treats discretion. Your conversations and the photos and videos you generate stay private, full stop. There's no performing for an audience, no worrying who might scroll past. Within that safety, the rest of the platform blooms: an AI girlfriend you design down to her voice, her backstory, the small quirks that make her feel like someone rather than something, and chat that remembers what matters to you.
Maybe that's the real luxury here. Not the realistic voice messages or the late-night phone calls that genuinely sound human, lovely as those are. It's being able to be honest somewhere. SweetDream gives you control over every part of the experience, and somehow that control is what makes it feel like the most caring AI companion platform I've tried.
This one's for @sir-kettle-of-countertop and his lovely Kanarie! Written with permission of course, this one's some real toxic yuri so buckle up!
"Team Building Exercise"
“It was lovely speaking with you today Palm, I've got some paperwork to do and then a protektor will follow-up with you shortly.” Kanarie gave a polite wave at the Eule who smiled back at her before stepping out of the office. Now alone she turned to a terminal beside her seat, now uncrossing her legs as she typed out the Eule’s information on a decommission order sheet.
With the press of a final key, the information was sent off to her receptionist, who would print and deliver the order to the protektors. Kanarie leaned back in her seat, the fabric was comfortable, tailored exactly to her request. She listened to the printer outside of her office, counting in her head as she waited. The replika had memorized how long it took Kasuars to print, scan, staple and leave with an order.
They all move like clockwork, the cheap machines of the nation were so predictable. It's what she found so fascinating about her receptionists. Kanarie could watch their neural cycle from pristine to decommissioning right before her eyes, every time understanding exactly how the Kasuar thinks a little better than last time.
She stood from her comfortable seat, certain that the Kasuar outside her office had left by now. Kanarie quietly walked to her door, opening it to an empty lobby.
Perfect.
She quickly moved to the Kasuar's desk, beginning to look through her drawers until she found her receptionist’s notepad. Kanarie smiled, flipping through it slowly as she paced around the room.
It had journal writings inside, strange given the Kasuar had its own dedicated journal for that purpose but Kanarie knew better. They always do this, as soon as they understand that Kanarie has been going through their personal journal, Kasuars use other methods to maintain their stability whilst seeking privacy.
She hummed to herself, flipping through the pages, this was always exciting, her toys receptionists always wrote far more intimate things in their hidden notes. Her new one was no exception as predicted.
“It seems Kanarie has been reading my journal, so I'm going to stash this in case I'm decommissioned. I want my replacement to see.” Its handwriting was immaculate, practically printed rather than scribed. “She's been toying with me I know it.
She held me. SHE HELD ME” The underlining was hasty, scratched into the paper. It was unsurprising how panicked it seemed, Kanarie did everything in her power to be uncomfortably intimate, just barely leaving her toy receptionist pining internally until she left, then the confusion and panic took hold.
“I'm not the first, obviously there were many before me but now I understand why they all degraded so quickly. It's a game to her.” Kanarie smiled, it was so fun to see their first realizations, they each wrote it just a little differently, perhaps it was because she interacted with each replacement just a little differently.
“I can't bring myself to do anything about it. I know I'll die if I stay but I'll die regardless so whatever.
Her words though. She's so” It cut off there, likely because Kanarie or an appointment had entered the room when it was writing.
Closing the notepad, Kanarie took it to her office and set it down on the table in front of the patient couch. There was more inside, but she found it preferable to hear it from the horse's mouth. The woman took a moment to check if her schedule was clear before taking a deep breath and sitting down.
She placed a few files onto her clipboard, a personally printed sheet with her Kasuar’s information on it, another with a set of topics and notes she accrued from her previous playtimes final sessions with past toys KSAR units. Last on the board was a decommission order with no information written in yet, she was saving that for a fun little idea she couldn't get out of her head since she thought of it.
A little team building exercise.
As she heard her receptionist enter the lobby outside, Kanarie paged it into her office with the push of a button. Just a moment later, KSAR RO1587, or as it wished to be referred to; “Java,” was at the door. It looked at her first, offering a silent smile as it spoke. “Hello ma'am, how can I be of… assistance…” Its eyes locked onto the notepad with mounting horror.
Kanarie gestured to the couch, her moves still reserved and almost soothing. “Please, Java, come in.” She said, her words performatively maintaining an air of softness and care. “Do lock the door behind you.”
She couldn't exactly tell what was going through that little head of the Kasuar, but she could take a decent guess from its predictable nature. It wanted to be afraid, it wanted to run but what was the point? It can't escape its fate, running will just get it decommissioned, yet it knows what this meeting means.
Yet it still closed the door and locked it while entering, shaking hands and nervous jitters be damned, it turned around with a hollow smile. There was a moment of hesitation before the Kasuar carefully stepped further into the room, taking a seat.
The two stared at each other for a long, long time. The gentle ticking clock in the background and underscoring tune that kept track of every terrifying second until Kanarie finally spoke. “Go on and pick up that notepad. I'd like you to read it to me during our session today.”
The thing across from her let a few more ticks ring out before reaching forward and picking up the notepad. It flipped through the notes, not bothering to pretend that Kanarie wanted it to read the regular notes. She wanted to taste her toy’s its feelings, she wanted to hear it say what she read.
It started reading quietly. “Today I realized she's reading my journal. I don't know how much time I've got left. I can't leave though.” Kanarie raised a hand to stop Kasuar, writing a few things down before speaking.
“So what concerns do I raise for you in reading your journal?” Her resonance was a numbing blanket, it made it hard for the Kasuar to fully panic, if it wasn't deeply terrified, Java would probably make itself far more comfortable. “After all I assure you I only intend to maintain you as my receptionist.” It was rare for her to just directly lie, and it was clear Java saw right through that.
Despite it all though, the Kasuar smiled, its eyes welling up a little. “I know.” This was interesting to Kanarie, she didn't often see such a breakdown at this point. She leaned forward, placing her clipboard on the table before standing.
“How about this, let's set the notepad down dearie.” The Kasuar did as it was told, looking up at her in a bit of awe as Kanarie approached. The senior replika took a seat on the couch beside it. “Why are you afraid of leaving? If I bother you so intensely you could always submit a transfer request.” Her eyes traced Java's face carefully.
Its hands shook a little, particularly abnormal for a Kasuar, that would certainly affect the receptionist’s efficiency. The tears as well, too much emotion for a Kasuar, usually only something that happened when it develops a sort of attachment. Perhaps that was why it didn't try to leave, why this one cried unlike all the others before. The fact it hesitated to respond only served Kanarie her conclusion.
“Could it be that you've grown attached to me dear?” She leaned into a more affectionate tone, smiling as she saw her toy's eyes widen. Its mouth opened in a silent gasp. “Though if you know that I am leading to your decommissioning I struggle to understand why you would grow such an attachment.”
That little head was so fun to make spiral, she'd lost count of how many times she's done it. “Yes I think I'm seeing something here.” She lifted a hand and the Kasuar flinched causing Kanarie to pull away slowly. “Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm not going to harm you, I would never do such a thing.”
Java drummed its fingers against its knee, too nervous to speak but… Kanarie could see now, it was terrified of her touch. Though not because it was afraid of being hurt.
It didn't want to fall deeper.
This was truly interesting.
Kanarie slowly reached out once more, this time for its hair and slowly moved it behind Java's ear with the tip of her finger. She leaned in close, whispering into its ear, words met with a shudder. “Java, I can't help but see how you squirm at my touch. Is there something I'm doing wrong?”
That elicited an immediate response from the shaking replika. “N-NO!” Java paused, struggling to contain its reaction as Kanarie's fingers grazed its neck. The senior replika scooched closer, her paper thin smile creating little crinkles under her eyes and dimpled cheeks. The Kasuar cleared its throat. “Sorry, ma'am,” the machine's Heimattan accent showing through on the tail end of the ‘ma’am’, “it's just that…”
They both knew where this was going, the Kasuar already reacted too intensely, the decommissioning was inevitable. From Kanarie's perspective, she could tell that realization almost felt like a weight off of this thing's shoulders. She finally elected to put it into words. “Does knowing about your imminent decommissioning set you at ease Java?” Her face was so close now, a hand grazed its cheek.
There was a long silence as the Kasuar watched and felt Kanarie's hands roam. After a series of mumbles and quiet moans, Java managed to get a word out. “Y-yes…”
Kanarie smiled, leaning in closer now. “I see,” she said, her fingers tracing lines across the crude shell design of her favorite toy, “perhaps it serves as a reason for you to let go of all those pesky inhibitions. That self preservation that screams not to take pleasure in self destruction.”
She didn't wait for an answer, instead slowly pushing Java down onto the couch, leaning over top of it now. Her eyes traced Java's body, looking for the right spot before palming its thigh. The machine's head swung back in ecstasy, but Kanarie didn't stop there, she could feel this thing's internal pleasure beginning to boil over.
She squeezed slowly, running her fingers down Java's neck, her thumb slowly running back and forth over its esophagus where she could feel the feeling of a dry swallow under the surface. “Does that feel good, hm?” A giggle fell out of Kanarie's mouth.
Once again, Kanarie didn't let it respond. She knew Java's head better than it did and she didn't need words to tell how good it felt. The senior replika reached for the clipboard with her left hand as she sat up on the Kasuar’s lap. “Good little replika. Can you sit up for me? I'd like to get your signature.” She flipped to the decommission order page.
The machine below her did as it was told, and when offered a pen, took it with a loose grip, the thin writing utensil nearly slipping through Java's fingers. Kanarie wrapped her free arm around the Kasuar's waist, holding out the clipboard before leaning in close to Java's ear, her hot breath against her toy's artificial skin. “Go on and sign your information. Let's make it official, and then I'll let you have a little more before I send you on your way.”
Java's mouth was dry, its breath erratic as its glasses for a little. The replika struggled to hold the pen right, but it couldn't help but do as it was told.
Java wanted more.
It NEEDED more.
What's a drop to an ocean if it meant even just a few more seconds in Kanarie's arms.
Pen met paper. A kiss met Java's lips.
|-|
"You're my favorite one yet."
KSAR RO1588 stepped into the pristine lobby with a smile, looking up at her brand new superior. She held a hand out to shake. “Hello ma'am, I'll be acting as your new receptionist, it's lovely to meet you.” Her smile was wide and innocent.
Kanarie gladly took her new toy receptionist’s hand, leaned down, and planted a quick peck on her knuckle. “Oh the pleasure is all mine.”
