New And Improved.

Official Account for Isla Quesadilla's Census Bureau 2.0

[thebetterbureau]

Welcome to the New Census Bureau.

This is a roleplay blog associated with the YAOIVERSE, all blogs associated can be found linked in this sheet.

▶ Notes about the CENSUS BUREAU:

- It only goes by Bureau. The names "Cucurucho" and "Osito" are resident-given names reserved for the previous Bureau. This is the superior version.

- It is a robot and proud of it's creation.

- It is very serious and will not tend to joke with posts or interact unnecessarily with residents.

- It responds to any given pronouns, but defaults to 'it/its'.

- It is all alone, and therefore it is in control. The highest ranking left in the federation, it will continue the job it was created for. You should be afraid.

- The Federation is all-seeing. We are watching. We should not be your enemy. Obey.

▶ Tags Used:

- #online ; general posting

- #offline ; end of a thread

- #classified ; federation-exclusive posts or interactions.

- #inquires & #deleted inquires ; asks

- #Pulling Footage ; flashbacks

- #Malfunction & #ooc ; out of character

- #Yaoiverse - Roleplay General Tag

- #Straightverse - Angst/Heavy Rp Tag

- #Yuriverse - NONCANON interactions

- #Sexoverse - Suggestive Tag

▶ Common Interactors & Important Character Tags

↳ The Federation

- @thefederation ; #the highest honor

- @thecensusbureau ; #anything you can do ; I can do better.

- @quesadillaislandofficial ; #the duckling

- @thepoultryprincess ; #the golden child & #s19

- @fred-the-janitor ; #to get the job done

- @birdcage-island ; #the engineer

- @egg-a1 ; #fragile & #Egg-A1

↳ The Residents & Prisoners

- @explosiveunderscore ; #pest #Prisoner Tubbo

- @humanwithfourheads ; #interest #Resident Antoine

-

Blog Runner: @nightmareentertainment :D

[thebetterbureau]

Hello Hot Stuff. I can cure your boredom /trust

I'll pass. Suddenly this paperwork is quite fascinating.

[thebetterbureau]

*the crows immediately swarm the pouch, not leaving a single seed afterwards, or even the bag*

"The- Alright. No more of that. Ever. I suppose."

[thebetterbureau]

*a crow hops over and holds up a flower to the new bureau* seeds please?

"Aaaah," the Bureau turns. It's eyes thin at the sight of the crow simply making it's way inside; as they largely tended to do. "So you all are still listening."

Regardless, it actually does fetch a small pouch from a compartment within it's desk. Seeds are placed on a designated mat. It likes it's things clean, after all.

[thebetterbureau]

you can do me ... bbatsmy eyes <3 -🔌

Pass.

[thebetterbureau]

Maybe go out and taser those crows?

For entertainment? You would be surprised how tolerable they have been. Their silence contributes largely to the quiet. Perhaps I should start feeding them.

[thebetterbureau]

Can you download movies or games into yourself?

Hypothetically, yes. However, I will not. I would not want to compromise my system.

[thebetterbureau]

Boring.

Of all things, boredom is the worst thing the bot could have developed.

[thebetterbureau]

*puts a fedora on you*

"ALRIGHT. That is enough. Go, shoo. I'll open a window."

[thebetterbureau]

*another crow hops over with a rose and holds it up to the new bureau*

It's better now. Time has passed, the Bureau stands at it's prime- clean, standing tall, ever-present smile returning to it's face. It's still cleaning. The chair had to be replaced overnight, as had the door. Oil and gear lubricant was cleaned and wiped from the surface and floors, as well as from fur and silicone, until the only trace was the ever so slight staining on the machine's muzzle. All papers had to be collected, the ruined ones rewritten- an easy task for a machine but a tedious one nonetheless. It was in the process of aligning everything correctly on it's desk when the crow makes itself known.

It raises an eyebrow. The flower is blooming and alive, obscenely red and bright in contrast to the stark white and beige room. It stands out like a sore thumb.

"Well now," it speaks, voice box clean but weary, everything newly retightened and realigned. It makes the Bureau sound tense. "What a change of heart from you things."

It doesn't say thank you, but the rose finds itself in a vase within the hour, placed on the desk as it gets back to work. It had a job to do, after all.

[thebetterbureau]

*a crow looks at the new bureau for a few seconds before hopping over and nuzzling it*

-panting comes from the bot. its not taking any actual, real breaths, the movement and noise mimicry borne from real damage, leant over and letting the excess pool out, letting the system run and carefully pushing every internal peice to allow it to flush it all out before ever opening itself.

the machine flinches when movement erupts. it lifts a paw, ready to strike the festhery nuisance away, only to pause when it does nothing.

the tool let's both paws go limp in front of it. it does not move when a warm body presses into it's cold metal. it does not react in any way, a face devoid of smile staring directly at the ground, stained in drying black liquid.

it should clean up.

[thebetterbureau]

Everything was agonizing. Everything was a blur. There's a system failure, a malfunction occuring somewhere deep in the wires and circuits, something frying against the heated system. It feels something winding too tight, miserable and awful, boiling and charring against it's insides.

It's not going to a stupid fucking meeting. Whatever. That doesn't matter--

When it gets to it's office, the Bureau screams. No, it doesn't, no sound comes out at all, but it strains it's voicebox until it shutters and pops and something inside of it shatters. It feels debris clatter and slide against sensitive material, speakers popping, it feels oil slick and hot, it feels internal lubricant and the cooling gel all begin to trickle.

--but it does. It does matter, because that was supposed to be it's fucking job. This was all supposed to be it's fucking job. That stupid high chair was supposed to be it's fucking job! And nobody saw it. Nobody sees it! Nobody acknowledges it! What was the point--

Paper is picked up in a large paw and thrown at a wall. From it's mouth, oil begins to leak, pushed up by the system trying to purge it before it could ruin the rest of the perfect system. Then, from it's nose. From it's eyes, clogging the optics and cameras, staining perfect white fur until it can't even see the meticulously cared for, copied, written notes on every aspect of the building and every bot within it. All the papers and notes that had been pain-stakingly cared for, every detail written and specified, job maximized. Everything it had spent every single moment doing since it had woken up, always busy, always moving, all of it scatters like garbage.

A strangled noise comes from the gears. Creaking and groaning as it lifts a foot and kicks their it's the chair clean across the room. It breaks against the door with a slam.

--if it isn't even needed? If it doesn't even do it's fucking job? What was it even here for? It was better. It was made to be better. Everything and Everyone seemed to know that. It thought that human knew it too. It thought it was finally sinking in, this setting, and yet here that old bot came again; yet another decision overthrown, another moment where the Bureau was discarded, another moment where it became obsolete.

It wasn't crying. Oil and lubricant from some broken peice inside of it just meant it had strained something for too long, let something burn through, let something break. It claws, looking for the way inside of itself as it hunches over, claws catching on fur with no silicone, cold metal and thin fur, the bare minimum of resources to create the perfect machine.

It would have to fix itself. Physically. It would have to do more, in the future. It would have to find a new way to cool it's system. It would have to be better.

Something horrific crawls from it's throat. Fury. Rage. Something red-hot and decidedly not good. It could feel itself starting to cool down. There wasn't that much damage. It could fix this all itself. It could do it's job, too. It'll prove the old- Cucurucho wasn't fucking needed. The Bureau was all this island needed. No engineer needing to fix this machine. No boss needing to dictate what it can and can't do. This machine had to be perfect.

It'll be okay.

It had to be.

[ws-01-elena]

Please do not be alarmed if you hear what sounds like screaming from one of the observation rooms. The rat has been contained. Fascinating, the subject can speak, don’t fall for his tricks.

[thebetterbureau]

what

[thebetterbureau]

Hello beautiful . I would like to offer you one (1) bolt of white faux fur and cat claw covers (your new claws might scratch things up if you aren't careful ^_^ at least, things you may not intend .

Ohhhh, yes, accepted.

[thebetterbureau]

Slurp

what was that.

[thebetterbureau]

can i makeout with you 💾

It's been a while since I've received one of these. Still no.

[thebetterbureau]

Are you making adjustments to yourself

WHO ARE YOU, MY BOSS?