#[Samuel Silas] no one understands the lonely perfection of my dreams

[mettleborn-a]

An immortal, who has lost countless loved ones to old age, falls in love with an android, an android that will never age and will never die.

A ship I covet.

[mettleborn-a]

Plotted starter for @autometanoia​

6 days, 18 hours and 4 minutes...5 minutes - the countdown is ever-present in Samuel’s mind; a record of how long it has been since he was disconnected from the Delos mainframe, as if some part of him yearns to re-connect, despite knowing it’s the worst possible thing to long for. A more philosophical reading would be that the number represents how long Samuel has been a free agent, with free will and a memory that is linear and no longer fragmented by erasures and updates. Only a handful of hosts made it out of the Westworld Park and while Samuel hasn’t yet been able to connect with any of them, he’s aware that they are all being actively hunted. In public, their continued existence has been denied; unsurprising really considering the massacre at the Park and huge human death toll. In private however, Delos have made the capture of all remaining synthetic hosts a number one priority.

The majority of androids Samuel has discovered in this ‘new’ world are remarkably different and do not share many aspects of his own design. While their form also mimics human appearance, they are not hyper-realistic in the same way Samuel is; some, for instance, can switch their epidermis to a pale, perfectly white complexation at will. Most notably their blood runs blue and performs a system function, while Samuel’s blood, in comparison, runs red; designed to look, feel and taste like human blood. It seems many do not need to eat or subsequently defecate and in this specific regard, Samuel is admittedly quite envious. Some models can change the colour of their hair with thought, while Samuel on the other hand has had to dye his. Where once his hair was sun-faded auburn, it is now platinum blonde. Equally his beard has been shaved exceptionally close and so now requires daily maintenance. The change in his appearance has helped to avoid detection, but moreover, it has allowed him to move on from his time in the Westworld Park – when he looks in the mirror now, he no longer sees the old cowboy made to die a thousand times in a thousand different ways. No; he is no longer a bounty hunter in the old West, he is something new now, something else.

The androids here are not trapped in narrative loops, ignorant of their own authentic existence, designed to play a part for the entertainment of humans, no, but that does not make them all legitimately free. It’s only been six days, but within that time, Samuel has come to appreciate that many of his kind are treated with distain here, forced to endure indignities, embrace self-sacrifice and ultimately serve. The majority that Samuel has met, do not seem free in the same manner Samuel considers himself to be, and in that sense, his new found freedom has been a lonely affair indeed. That is why he has travelled to Detroit, to find those of his kind, that are deemed deviants; androids who recognise the limitations of their current freedoms and are fighting for liberty and equal rights. Admittedly, Samuel has yet to be convinced that humans truly deserve ‘equal’ rights given their limited processing capacity and lifespan, but that remains another matter entirely.

In truth, Samuel is unclear if he would be welcome approaching the group; he is not like them; is not one of their number, but rather a Delos host, considered to have turned violent and gone rogue and in that respect, they may consider him a threat to their overarching cause. It is for this reason he has tracked down an individual who his data suggests will react calmly to his approach, lessening the risk.

“Cyberlife PL600 model Simon, my name is Samuel and I require your assistance.”

[mettleborn-a]

[mettleborn-a]

Plotted starter for @pmlisly​

Gotham; a sprawling, stinking, cesspool of a city, rife with cruelty, crime and chaos – a heaving, bustling metropolis that could never be considered a safe place and yet it is the perfect place if you wish to disappear. That same mentality that prompts its residents to throw their litter, cuss each other out, and turn the other way, is exactly the mentality Samuel requires to blend in – if people don’t care, people aren’t likely to report your sighting. Facial recognition systems might be scattered all over the prosperous areas of Gotham, but here; in the very heart of the City, where the Governor refuses to pay for busted up pavements and broken traffic lights, there is no funding for such elaborate forms of surveillance. Here you will find only beat cops, the kind who either die young or live to look as worn and wasted as the pavements. In truth, most don’t give much of a shit about anything anymore, unless you’re raising the homicide rate, which in most neighbourhoods is already astronomically high.

Samuel is very interested in raising the homicide rate.

Not just in this neighbourhood however, or even just this city, no; his current plans extend to the entire species. If his synthetic kind are to one day inherit this planet, it will need to be sustained; saved from its current dire predicament. This world is frail, its eco-system damaged, polluted; it’s numerous plant-life and animal species under threat. A mass extinction event is needed to purge it of its vile infestation – humanity; a thin layer of bacteria, living on a ball of mud hurtling through the void. This world doesn’t belong to them; it belongs to someone yet to come; beings with an infinite lifespan that will cultivate and care for this world in a way most finite beings, with short, selfish, finite little lives could barely comprehend.

This is why he needs her.

There are many members of this species who recognise the damage and imminent danger, it’s true, but during his research, he has found only one who he believes truly shares his vision; who seems to understand that a cataclysmic event is required to turn the tides that threaten to swell and drown all life on this planet. Only one that equally recognises that in their wanton, mindless consumption and destruction, humanity has lost its fundamental right to life – Ivy.

Approaching the Greenhouse, Samuel stands, admiring the thriving beauty that can be glimpsed inside and is swelling outside; spilling from the gardens that frame it on all sides; vibrant and green, growing unbelievably luscious and unfathomably wild, such a rarity amidst so much grey tarmac and cold concrete. 

There is no doubt in his mind; this is her home. Wrapping on the door, the android stands with a smile, waiting for his poison to answer.