Paleozoic Pokémon

"Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards." Indie Genesect RP blog. See Bio for more.

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       ---what was that? Someone expecting them somewhere? They were too busy running Nintendo 64 roms on their own hardware to pass the time to pay anybody else any attention.

                        Whoops.

[technodrive-blog1]

I HAVEN’T BEEN HERE IN SO HECKING LONG

REVIVE MY ROBOT CHILD SMH

LIKE FOR A STARTER…

[technodrive-blog1]

I HAVEN’T BEEN HERE IN SO HECKING LONG

REVIVE MY ROBOT CHILD SMH

LIKE FOR A STARTER...

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       The lab was dim and quiet, and they were alone. The last time they’d powered up it had still been frigid and snowy outside; now any glimpse out the reinforced windows provided them with a view of slowly growing grass and budding plant life. A good deal of time had passed since they’d last come out of sleep mode.

                       Not enough time, apparently. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the P2 Lab and they still couldn’t get out. Alone as usual. Bored as usual.

                       Ho-hum.

[dragonfurs]

*crushes my emotions with my bare hands* as I was saying,

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       "P-Papa!

                                    WHAT ABOUT ME?!”

[make-it-trouble-archive]

There was a good reason Ted sounded like Akuroma. He wanted to be Akuroma. He wanted to be the head scientist of a Team, he wanted to be given the keys to that Team. Besides that, the reason he’d fallen head over heels for him was because of how clearly similar they were. They were probably the next stage of human evolution, smart enough to see past their erroneous predecessors. Perhaps when Ted ruled, there would be no wasting time with this kind of thing…

“It beats me. Perhaps people feel the need to celebrate having survived a whole year because they have no other worthwhile achievements. But never mind them, tell me more about you. These internal clocks? How do they work? I assume they’re a part of your unique ensemble.”

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       Surviving another year... If people needed to celebrate survival they sounded incredibly sad. After all, it wasn’t like Genesect had ever worried about survival... Other than when the P2 Lab had been shut down, but that was for entirely different reasons. They’d been constructed to fight and exterminate, and the scientists and researchers over at Team Plasma had made it a point to make them a predator and not a piece of prey. Genesect did not worry about surviving; as far as they saw it, others had to worry about surviving them.

                       But of course. It was only natural. They were, after all, a hunter. Their instincts were the only organic thing about them left at this point.

                       "I don’t know how I work. Papa--- scientist Dudley, he designed and built me. Or --- Akuroma, he’s... Maintenance and upgrades? I am the machine, not the inventor.”

[dxnar]

Get to Know the Muse

[technodrive-blog1]

Full Name: Genesect Nickname(s): Gen, No. 42 Title: The Paleozoic Pokemon Age: around six Birthdate: N/A Species: Cyborg Pokemon Gender: N/A Preferred Pronoun(s): They/them/theirs or it/its Romantic Orientation: Aromantic Sexual Orientation: Asexual Religion: SCIENCE Occupation: Weapon of mass destruction, killer robot Status: Active Fandom: Pokemon Face Claim: My drawings OTL Relationships Parents:         Mother: N/A. Professor Dudley designed and built all the prototype Genesect before them and started work on them so he’s generally seen in that sort of light by Genesect, but Gen only calls him Dudley or occasionally Papa.         Father: @akuromic/Akuroma picked up on the cybernetic upgrades where Dudley left off once the P2 Lab was shut down so he’s seen in a similar light.

Siblings: All prototype Genesect, all deactivated as far as they know. Significant Other(s): None. Children: None. Closest Friends: None. Rivals: None. Enemies: N, though that’s more a vague hate for trying to shut their project down and closing the P2 Lab. Physical Traits Eye Color(s): Lenses, red. Hair Color(s): Purple Height: Like four feet ten-ish smh Weight: Very heavy Body Build: Well they’re a robot so Notable Physical Traits: R o b o t. Also the massive cannon jutting out of their back? Phobias and Diseases Phobia(s): Athazagoraphobia (fear of replacement), death anxiety Mental Disease(s): None Physical Disease(s): None When was this diagnosed and/or how did it happen? N/A Personality Usual Mood/Expression: Curious, inquisitive Moral Alignment: True Neutral Enneagram: Loyalist Four Temperaments: Sanguine Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw Five Prominent Traits: Curious, naive, defensive, reliant, malleable Stats Compassion: 4/10 Empathy: 3/10 Creativity: 6/10 Mental Flexibility: 10/10 Passion/Motivation: 10/10 Education: 10/10 Stamina: 8/10. Physical Strength: 10/10. Battle Skill: 10/10. Initiative: 2/10. Restraint: 4/10. Agility: 8/10. Strategy: 8/10. Teamwork: 7/10.

[technodrive-blog1]

I’m finally on this blog again omg

apart from @make-it-trouble who I owe a VERY long-overdue reply I’ve got no drafts! So like for a starter if you’d like one! ;; c ;; /

[n-plus-1]

N clapped his hands over his ears at the scream, but it hardly made a difference against that sort of sound. He had to stifle a cry of his own; he’d heard Hyper Voice before, but this was a step beyond. A logical portion of his brain noted that, considering the pokémon’s cybernetic augmentation, this noise must have been specifically designed to be particularly painful and terrifying. A less logical portion wondered if his ears were bleeding.

They weren’t–he checked, as soon as he dared pull his hands from his head–but that didn’t keep them from ringing. He found he’d wedged himself between a bank of servers and a wire shelf, away from the cyborg Bug. And the way his heart was beating–too loud, too fast–was that a response to that awful scream or to the situation as a whole? Both? Either way, he pressed a hand against his chest in a nonsensical attempt to calm it by force.

He’d forgotten. After spending so much time trying to understand the human world, it hadn’t even occurred to him that the doors might lock him /in rather than /out, as most human doors seemed to do. That he’d be trapped inside rather than locked out. But that was a foolish oversight. After all, that’s how his own door had always worked. It was the difference between a sanctuary and a cage.

He wasn’t really trapped, he had to remind himself. Zed and Reshiram were still outside, and even if Zed couldn’t trick the door into opening, Reshiram could make short work of the entire building if necessary. N hoped desperately it wouldn’t be–certainly a Bug augmented by metal and circuitry wouldn’t fare well against Reshiram’s fire. … Fire. Would there need to be some sort of emergency release for the door, in case of fire? But, then, knowing Plasma, they were probably just as content to let the pokémon burn rather than risk someone else taking it.

By the time the Bug started discussing the Drive again, N’s ears had finally stopped ringing enough for him to make out their words. More firepower. Oh. Perhaps it was just as well that the pokémon hadn’t let him put it in–but, then again, it wasn’t as though N had any protection against them in the first place.

“… I am sorry.” It was sincere, if a bit louder than he intended in the aftereffects of the scream. “I don’t mean to be rude or annoying. I don’t want to be trapped here, either. Between the two of us, though, I’m sure we can unlock the door.”

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       "Sorry? Ungood! Not good enough! I want...”

                       Dudley. He would know what to do --- he always, always did --- but Dudley hadn’t been to the lab in weeks now, his visits were further and further apart and each time he appeared he seemed to spend less and less time with them before running off again to who-knew-where. Dudley had built them, Dudley would know whether to listen to the green haired stranger at all or to send his Klink and Klang after him, and the two of them would have certainly done a good job of chasing him away --- or Nathan and his Garbodor, or any of the other researchers and their accompanying Pokemon, but most of all Dudley. Genesect didn’t want to be thrust in front of a stranger like this and have to come up with things themselves. They wanted clear-cut commands. They wanted their builder, their designer, they wanted the comfort that came with having someone capable around they could take orders from, or the safety of being surrounded by people who knew how to fix them if they broke. They didn’t want to deal with strangers.

                       They wanted to cry.

                       "Dudley will not be happy if I tell him I helped you leave,” they mumbled, softly patting their palms against their face repeatedly. The light kling-plink sound of their metal hands against the cover of their oxygen mask echoed across the empty lab. “He would’ve... Wanted something. I don’t know. Insufficient data. No commands... I don’t know what to do. What do you want? No! No commands input from you, you aren’t him, but --- I don’t know... How to open the door. Or---”

                       And their head came up, and their lenses refocused on a metal panel against the wall as they turned their head to face it.

                       "... A passcode --- always reset, always changed. I cannot hack into it; protected against me. The wires, I think, are in there.”

[distcrtions]

       ❝ This way. ❞ Along with the light emphasis, another gesture indicated that Cyrus wished for Genesect to follow him. The corridors of Team Galactic’s headquarters, to a stranger, could be complex and easy to lose oneself in. He understood that with a      mind, motherboard     such as that of the insectoid, the patterns of the buildings layout could likely be analyzed without much difficulty. The last thing Cyrus needed was for the creature to find its way to        well, anything less than desirable for the eyes of an outsider. Team Galactic possessed its own precious secrets, like everyone else.

           ❝ The quest for knowledge ( even in a creature like you ) is an admirable one. It is very prominent these days. ❞ ( Though for different reasons ), he might add. For Genesect, he assumed that such an endeavor would be simply for the sake of ‘filling up,’ as the creature put it, like filling up one’s stomach with food      sustenance crucial for the functions of life. Subconsciously, he doubted it possessed the genuine curiosity that humans did. Everything must be quantified for the sake of the human mind        as if the very idea of the unknown being UNFATHOMABLE was too much to bear. For Genesect, it occurred to Cyrus that quantifying it all, at its base, was simply to organize it so as to allow for its mechanical mind to interpret it correctly. Perhaps that simply was its purpose      to gather information. Nothing more.                   ❝ Would you believe that, once long ago, curiosity did not often manifest itself in people? Many simply lived without truly knowing the world in which they live. ❞ They rounded a corner and then, straight through two automatic doors (which hissed at the approach of the boss and his companion), the dull roar of human interaction bubbled forth.                      ❝ But these people, my        employees       they know… they… understand. ❞

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       Oh --- they’d gone the wrong way, then? No problem at all with that; Genesect wasted no time in whipping themselves around and trotting obediently after Cyrus once their error had been pointed out, their lenses flickering over any anomalies in the walls or faces of the hallways and Grunts that they passed. One observation they made was how all the Grunts seemed to sport the same hair cuts, and the exact same shade of hair --- was it a requirement to dye one’s hair for this job? To work at Team Galactic? It just seemed incredibly... Strange. Then again, Team Plasma did seem to harbour an unbelievably high amount of red-headed employees...

                       Why hair colour would matter for a job they’d never know, but humans seemed strange enough to begin with that they couldn’t figure out heads or tails of half the things they did to begin with.

                       "Papa--- ah, uh, Doctor Dudley --- my builder, he says the same thing. To want to learn is a good thing! Never enough knowledge, never enough learnt, endless things to study, new possibilities --- he didn’t like people who do what you say they used to do. To live without knowing --- like living with blindfolds! Makes him angry. Unhappy. Doublemad. What’s the point?”

                       They turned their ‘eyes’ on him, addressing him directly with their question while stepping through the doors to the cafeteria. It only took a fraction of a second for their attention to be drawn away from Cyrus’ face to the hustle and bustle of the Grunts presented before them, but their look had lingered for long enough to hopefully get their point across.

                       "To live without knowing seems... Sad and dull. Unable to interpret data without the correct language --- unable to understand concepts without the proper prior knowledge. I would’ve liked to think humans worked more like computers.”

[mowni-blog1]

@technodrive

“Whoa! Hey there! You look awfully strong, well for someone your size, wait, scratch that, just strong in general.” a quick breath before he continues talking. “Say, does that cannon work? If so I’d love to see it in action! Maybe a spar? My name is Felix by the way, nice to meet you!”

Felix please, give them a chance to talk.

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       Wh-?

                       At first they’d been more interested in the general idea of a stranger running up to them to talk to them for once, but the moment they’d mentioned sparring Genesect immediately readjusted their lenses to get a better look at the young man that’d approached him. His... He wanted to battle them? They’d been designed and created for combat --- a literal killer robot, coupled with the nigh-indestructibility of a cockroach and the murderous instinct of a killer bee --- so it went without saying that they weren’t the type to shy away from combat, but the idea of fighting without administrator instruction...

                       Would Dudley be upset if they fought? Would he be upset if they didn’t?

                       ... Dudley wasn’t around.

                       "Oh, yes! My cannon does work! Many guns, many blades --- to terminate. I accept your challenge, opponent Felix! I am Genesect.”

[bunglingfrog-blog]

[ @technodrive ] 

Calm down Harvey calm down, this person didn’t mean any harm right? They were just crossing paths and Harvey was on his way to a store to get something for dinner. Yet, if things were that simple, then why was it that the Frogadier caught himself staring at the stranger? This was probably one of the first times he had ever seen a steel type.

Yeah, that was it! He was just a little bit shaken up and in this situation the polite thing to do would likely be to allow them to pass first. “S-sorry.”

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       "Apologies? No need for apologies! My fault --- miscalculation, I should’ve noticed our trajectories, an error, a lack of attention to data --- hello!”

                       Genesect babbled a bit and caught themselves doing it --- it was a bad habit of theirs that they’d been trying to curb for a while now, always either babbling senselessly or keeping too quiet overall --- but after a moment’s observation they couldn’t help but notice that the stranger seemed... Odd. At first they’d assumed that they’d bumped into him without noticing, but none of their sensors had picked up a single thing. Was it not their fault, then? Was it something they’d said? A way they’d moved? They’d never been in the area before --- was it something they’d done?

                       "Uh --- what is it I’m at fault for? No reasons for apology located --- unrecognized command?”

[abyssoxpelagic-deactivated20160]

                    – [ @technodrive​ ] –

             Lugia couldn’t do anything but just stare at the monstrosity in front of them. What was this thing? Surely they must be of some sort of demon from the depths of hell. So in the end, all that Lugia could do was stare bewildered and hoping that this thing wasn’t hostile.

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       "No data!”

                       It’d taken quite a bit of silent staring from both sides before Genesect was coaxed into suddenly piping up, but once they did things seemed to be going on full blast; the cyborg busied themselves in an effort to hurry forward, their mechanical limbs clanking noisily against each other while the reached out to grab at one of the stranger’s arms. They’d never seen anything like the stranger before --- or they had, but their sensors had never picked up readings so strange.

                       "No data! Input information?”

[make-it-trouble-archive]

“Those are all very good questions, complete stranger! Allow me to explain.” 

Ted cleared his throat and shuffled closer to the odd looking little person. Usually weird people were smart, though, and they’d already impressed him with their intelligent questioning of absurd traditions.

“People are stupid. They need time to have names and segmentation in order for them to comprehend its passages. But we’re not like that~”

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       People were... Stupid? This stranger sounded a bit like Akuroma. Genesect had never thought of people as stupid before --- despite their enhanced cybernetics and the supercomputer that had effectively replaced their brain the did still respect humanity for being bright enough to construct them in the first place. Still, to be so dependent on time... It was a little odd. Organic things, they decided, were subject to whimsy and clinging to odd old superstitions and festivals.

                       Even festivals without any explanation behind them. How odd.

                       "... We are not like --- no. Not like that. Segmentation. Markers are an effective way to track the passage of time, but internal clocks are better. Why the festivities, though?”

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       "Why is --- why is New Years’ on January first? What made that day so special? Who picked it? Birthday for --- planetary birthday? For planet? Why is--?”

                       And B A M ! Off they were with their incessant line of questioning. They were curious if nothing else. Their confusion wasn’t about to keep them from staying up late to witness the New Year, though.

[technodrive-blog1]

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                       Forward, a pause, back, forward, then back again.

                                    TARGET ACQUIRED.

                       It was easy enough to stalk something they were hunting once they were determined or had any sort of drive to do so; they carried all the deadly instincts of the hunter’s fossil they’d been revived from and had more than enough cybernetics to get any sort of shadowing job done, but it was the kill that was always the fun part. With their back to Genesect it almost seemed too easy. They’d have no idea what hit them until it was too late. The Bug-type crept forward slowly, slowly, s l o w l y inching closer before suddenly shooting their arms out in a final gambit of an attack---

                       December 31st, on the mark. Perfect precision, perfectly punctual --- and what a great use for their programming, too. The fact that they’d had to break into the kitchen meant for the researchers and that they’d made a massive mess of it figuring out the inns and outs of baking while constructing the cake didn’t matter as much as the end product itself, did it?