#but hmm. variation in daily routine..

[ayyponine]

Gonna rain all day and i don't have anyone to come w me but..hmm free lil punk concert at local park tonite

[hrtiu]

Written for @foxiyoweek day one. The prompt is Routine: schedule, daily, familiar. Thanks to @wildhoneyprose for beta’ing!

Fox liked routine. Most people wanted at least a little bit of variety or excitement in their life, but for Fox variation meant risk, security vulnerabilities, increased patrols, that sort of thing. They were each alterations to the Coruscant Guard’s normal pattern that might, in their own special way, increase the probability of a clone trooper getting killed on his watch. And so he struggled and fought against that great beast variety, struggling each day to keep his life as boring, normal, and safe as possible.

Every day he woke up at 0500, did an hour of PT, used the refresher, debriefed with Stone on how the night shift had gone, performed a random inspection on one of the platoons, then gave out security detail assignments. The captains generally already knew what their assignment would be, but he finalized plans and announced any last minute adjustments.

Then just before lunch he’d meet with Chancellor Palpatine. He’d give a brief report, accept security requests from the senators, and receive any special instructions the Chancellor might have. The Chancellor usually only had a couple of minutes to spare for the Commander, but those few minutes represented the culmination of Fox’s work over the last twenty-four hour period. If the Chancellor was unhappy about anything the Coruscant Guard was doing, everyone would suffer.

As soon as he escaped Palpatine, Fox would scarf down a quick lunch on the run, then make it down to the Senate just before they opened session. Fox’s presence at the Senate was partly ceremonial, but he still watched diligently for threats as the senators held forth, conscious of every potential security breach or vulnerability in the system. When the session ended he stood at attention by the doors as the senators filed out, nodding if they acknowledged him but otherwise standing stock-still.

He’d eat a spare dinner of rations on his walk from the Senate back to GAR headquarters, spend a few hours filling out flimsiwork—requisitions, reports, disciplinary forms, that sort of thing—then meet with Thorn and Stone to discuss  the day's proceedings. Then he turned in for the night around 2400, just in time to catch a solid five hours of sleep.

That’s how a good day went—PT, meetings, debrief with the Chancellor, Senate, flimsiwork, more meetings, and food sometime in between. On a bad day Fox was called in for riot patrol, extra bodyguard duty, security for a big event, damage control for whatever disaster had befallen the capitol, the subduing of a massive, city-destroying monster, and so on and so forth.

For several months now, counting from after the city-destroying monster incident, Fox had had a string of good days. PT, Senate, meetings, PT, Senate, meetings, PT, Senate, meetings. Then one day his whole rhythm was thrown out of whack.

It happened in an instant, as the senators were filing out of the Senate building, and it took Fox a moment to realize what was wrong. The senators were leaving with their normal amount of gossip, backhanded compliments, and scheming, and nothing seemed amiss at first glance. He looked hard at the retreating backs of a cluster of senators down the hallway and the sight of a gold-trimmed, maroon cloak lit a spark of recognition.

“Wheeler, take over this door for me, will you?” Fox commed the captain on duty with him.

“Yes, sir.”

Wheeler jogged over from his post just inside the building and Fox made his way down the hallway after the Senator. He wasn’t technically supposed to leave the door until all the Senators were gone, but he doubted any of them would notice the difference.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” he said when he caught up to the maroon cloak. The Senator turned around, her amber eyes wide with surprise.

“Is something wrong, Commander?” Senator Chuchi asked.

“Nothing’s wrong, ma’am, just wanted a quick word.”

“Certainly.”

She followed Fox away from her colleagues and into a side passage, then gazed up expectantly into Fox’s visor. Looking down into her cornflower face, the overhead light reflecting off of her golden jewelry and golden eyes, Fox forgot for a moment what he’d asked her here for.

“...Commander? What can I do for you?”

“Oh, uh…” Fox coughed awkwardly, then took off his helmet. Chancellor Palpatine didn’t like him taking it off while on duty (and he was always on duty), but he’d noticed the senators seemed more at ease with a face they could look at when he met with them one-on-one. 

Fox tucked the helmet under his arm and cleared his throat again. “Nothing serious, ma’am. Just wanted to check in with you—see if everything’s alright.”

One of Senator Chuchi’s delicate eyebrows arched upwards and she looked at him sideways. “I’m fine, Commander. Was there something that made you think otherwise?”

Oh. Oh. He hadn’t thought about this part—the part where he had to explain himself. “Well, er, no, ma’am. You just seemed a little out of sorts.”

“Out of sorts?” she asked, even more confused than before.

Well, banthacrap. I guess I imagined it after all. “It’s nothing, ma’am,” Fox said hastily. “I just thought you seemed a little off, and-”

“How did I seem off?” Senator Chuchi asked, alarmed.

“Well, it’s nothing serious, I, uh…” 

The Senator continued to stare at him with keen, discerning eyes, and it became clear that Fox was going to have to tell the truth. He sighed, fighting the heat he knew must be rising to his cheeks.

“Every day when you leave the Senate, you smile at me. But today you didn’t, so I thought something might be wrong.”

“Oh…” Senator Chuchi said, her eyes falling to the floor and a dusting of lilac spreading across her cheekbones. “Well, um, I suppose I must admit you’re right. I was hoping to introduce a rather important bill today on behalf of the Pantoran Assembly, but I haven’t been able to find the support yet to get it passed. I’m afraid some of my allies are not yet willing to put themselves at risk for my sake.”

Oh. Well, that was nothing so disastrous then, was it? At least, from a security perspective. Still, until Senator Chuchi was back to her normal self Fox knew things wouldn’t feel quite right.

“Well, in my years serving at the Senate I know it’s rare for a senator as new as you to do as much as you already have,” he said.

Senator Chuchi’s mouth quirked upwards in a dissatisfied smile. “Perhaps. But despite my inexperience, my people still need me to perform.”

“I understand, ma’am. ...If you don’t mind my asking, is the bill in relation to the crime lord Jaum’s occupation of Andelm IV?”

“Oh! You are familiar with the conflict?” Senator Chuchi asked in surprise.

“I attend every Senate session, ma’am.”

“I see… I didn’t know if it was always you or not,” she said, biting her lip. “Your armor all looks so similar. And yes, you’re right. The bill I was hoping to pass would formally denounce Jaum’s activities in the area as well as allocate GAR resources to Andelm IV to assist in his removal.”

An expansive warmth filled Fox’s chest as he realized that Senator Chuchi would smile that earnest smile of hers at any one of his brothers, and not just the most senior clone in the GAR. “You should talk to the senator from Kashyyyk.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know much but… I understand that Jaum and the Wookies have some bad blood. They might be willing to help you.”

Senator Chuchi brought a dusky hand to her chin, the skin between her eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Hmm… I haven’t spoken much with Senator Hakkon, but he has spoken up several times when Andelm IV has been mentioned…” She looked up, a blinding smile illuminating her face and crinkling the elegant viridescent arches on her cheeks. “That is an excellent idea, Commander Fox. I’m so glad you spoke with me.”

Fox inclined his head. “Happy to hear it, ma’am.”

She made her farewells and fairly bounded down the hallways, a renewed spring to her step and enthusiasm to her smile. Fox watched her go, leaving his helmet off longer than he should. Then he got a comm from Stone—something about patrols being shifted around for a parade—and it was back to the grind.  

He put his helmet back on and headed back to the GAR headquarters, thoughts already racing with to-do’s and schedules and the various needs of his men. It was a grind, but it was a good grind. Everything was back as it should be.

[saibugs]

For the fallout character ask All the evens for Arden All the odds for Cris :)

Ask and ye shall receive!

Which Fallout game are they from?Cristina is from Fallout 4! She’s my Sole Survivor!

Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?Arden ended up joining the NCR, mostly because she’s scared of being on her own and her relationship with Boone naturally led to her joining up. She also wants to try make the NCR better.She destroyed the Legion, mostly because of their cruelty, but partially because she was angry that they’d hurt Boone that badly.

What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?Cristina’s SPECIAL is… well, I don’t actually remember what it was. I just know she has low strength (think 3 or lower) and high intelligence (10). What I remember, though, is that I tried to average it as best I could.

Give us a summary of their backstory.(I was actually thinking abt this at work today!)Arden Grace was born to an enigmatic woman named Eden, and a disgraced Paladin of Steel named Morgan O’Hara. After her mother and father were captured by the Legion, and her father killed for resisting, her mother was exposed to extreme radiation and thus Arden’s genetic code was mutated (hence her purple hair). She was left at her adoptive parent’s place hours before her mother died, and grew up in Carey’s home village alongside a brother named Daniel. She was constantly bullied and developed something of a problem with being called stupid (or variation thereof). When she was 18, the three of them left the village, going their separate ways. Arden became a Courier of the Mojave Express, and the rest follows Fallout New Vegas!

What’s their full name and does it have a meaning? Do they have any nicknames and how did they get em?Cristina Elaine Montgomery is her maiden name, later on it’s Howard and even later on it’s MacCready. Her name has no meaning I just liked it. She goes by Cris (her name shortened, easier to say) and Crissy (given to her by MacCready). She got both nicknames by people she cared for, but there’s no sweet story behind either.

What’s their sexual, romantic, and gender orientation? Do they feel comfortable telling other people?Arden is uncomfortable telling everyone, because she doesn’t really know herself, but she’s heterosexual, heteroromantic, and cis female.

Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope?Cristina has anxiety and depression. She copes well enough, but some days it’s more difficult than others, all things considering.

Do they have any medical conditions? Is medicine/ treatment available for them?Arden is perfectly healthy outside of a slight gene mutation. She rarely gets sick, actually.

How much do they care about their outer appearance? What’s their “beauty routine”? How often do they shower/ bathe?Cristina cares about her outer appearance, but not to the point of… well, she’s not vain. Her beauty routine is just making herself look tidy, respectable and presentable, and she showers whenever she gets a chance.

What do they fear the most?Arden’s biggest fear is being forgotten or eventually abandoned by those she cares about.

They’re biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw?Her biggest flaw is perhaps, Cristina can be too naive and trusting. And yes, she recognises this as a flaw, but only after meeting Finn in Goodneighbour. That’s when she begins to worry about it.

What are they most insecure about?Arden is… sadly, not too sharp. And she is incredibly insecure about it.

What Wasteland threat do they fear the most? (ex. Deathclaws, super mutants, raiders)Cristina is terrified of sentry bots. Not quite a wasteland threat but they’re there in the wasteland and she almost died fighting one.

What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most? What are their placements (if you know them)? (ex. Aries sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius Venus)I do not know Arden’s zodiac sign or placements and honestly I couldn’t tell you what one she relates to the most. Sorry!

What’s their Myers–Briggs Type? (ex. ENTP, ISFJ)Cristina is the same as me! INFP!

What Harry Potter house would they be in? (ex. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw)Arden is a Hufflepuff.

Which Pokemon Go team would they choose? (ex. Instinct, Valor, Mystic)Cristina would perhaps choose Valor.

Out of the nine forms of intelligence (rhythmic, spatial, linguistic, mathematical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) which one(s) are they really good at and which one(s) is(are) their weakest?Hmm… I honestly couldn’t tell you!

What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil)Cristina is Lawful Good. That’s what being a lawyer does to you, I guess.

Do they have any hobbies? What are they?Arden has one hobby, and that’s collecting shells and casings. She always says she’ll recycle them but she never does. She’s a hoarder. Stop her.

Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?Cristina’s favourite holiday is Christmas! She celebrates it with her family and friends, in a small private affair.

What’s their favorite season?Arden adores the winter because it isn’t stinking hot and she has an excuse to huddle under blankets.

Do they have a temper or are they level headed?Cristina likes to think of herself as level-headed and for the most part she is. But she has a temper hiding under there.

Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings?Arden can’t help but express her emotions freely, and yes, it’s gotten her in trouble more than once.

Are they a leader or a follower?Cristina is a natural leader. That’s why she couldn’t join the Brotherhood of Steel; she has an aversion to being told what to do (based on what happened to her in her childhood).

How do they come off to others? What first impression do they usually make?The first impression made by anyone regarding Arden is that she’s hard to depress. She’s always happy, bubbly, and friendly.

Do they prefer to travel alone or with company? Who have they traveled with if any? Current companion if any?Cristina prefers to travel with ONE person, and that is her partner MacCready, her current companion. However, she’s made sure to travel with all her friends and gain their trust, help them if she needs to.

Would you describe them as selfless or selfish? Does it depend on the situation?Arden is selfless. While it can depend on the situation, most of the time she runs into danger without thinking about what would happen to her. If she has the power, she will try to save people even if she dies.

What do they find most attractive in others? Name at least one psychological and physical trait. (doesn’t have to be romantic attraction)Cristina finds a gentle nature attractive, something she saw in MacCready (although hidden most of the time, he’s got a rep to protect!) when he was around kids. She also likes the colour of peoples’ eyes.

Do they flirt often? How easily do they fall in love?Arden doesn’t know how to flirt, she’s hopeless. She falls in love waaaaay too easily though.

What’s their love life like? Are they interested in anyone or in a relationship?Cristina’s love life is healthy. She is married to MacCready.

Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence?Arden prefers to solve things as diplomatically as possible BUT she is not above using violence if all other options are exhausted.

What is their combat style? What range do they prefer? Do they sneak?Cristina prefers long range and sneaking over melee or just rushing in there. She wants to at least TRY to survive, for her kids.

What weapon(s) do they always carry with them?Arden is never not seen without at least one rifle. Currently it’s a service rifle, but she used to carry a hunting rifle.

Their most prized possession?Cristina never lets go of the holotape Nate gave her, nor the wooden soldier MacCready gave her. They’re the most important possessions in her life.

Their thoughts on power armor?Arden… doesn’t like it. It pinches.

Favorite armor/ outfit?Cristina loves her armoured skirt, and of course her Captain’s Hat. She fits in a little more.

How’s their aim? Do their hands shake while pointing a gun?Arden’s aim is impeccable, but her hands sometimes do shake, especially if she’s trying to shoot a deathclaw because they’re big scary and deadly.

What are their thoughts on having to kill on a daily bases in order to survive? Does it take a toll on them? Or do they shake it off rather easily?Cristina is not okay with killing every day to survive and it takes its toll on her drastically in her first few weeks of being in the wasteland. Even months on, she still struggles.

Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it)Arden doesn’t think about death. It’s better that way.

Do they move around a lot or prefer to have a place to call home?Cristina prefers to have a place to call home. She wants to raise her family somewhere, after all.

What’s their favorite location?Arden prefers to be in Novac, because that’s where Boone lives.

Their opinions on ghouls, feral and not feral?Feral ghouls? Cristina’s afraid of them but she also pities them. Non-ferals are regarded as simply other people, although she was initially spooked by their lack of… noses.

Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them?Arden scavenges but she does buy them when she arrives in town. Can’t have too many stimpaks out there.

Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track?Cristina absolutely gets distracted far too easily. It’s almost gotten her killed several times.

How do they sleep? Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere?Arden sleeps easily, deeply, and however she wants. She can sleep basically anywhere.

What’s their favorite radio station and song? (post-apocalypse)Cristina doesn’t have a favourite radio station, or song, post-apocalypse. She barely listened to the radio before the bombs fell, she barely does now. However, she will occasionally listen to Diamond City radio just to see how Travis is going.

What’s their favorite post-apocalyptic food? Are they a picky eater? Do they know how to cook?Arden LOVES a good omelette, be it radscorp or deathclaw. She’s not picky, though, and she can cook most things pretty well.

What’s their favorite beverage? Do they drink alcohol?Cristina loves Nuka Cola even if it’s just syrup these days. She doesn’t drink a LOT, but on a hot day she will down a few cool-ish beers.

Do they have any tag skills?Arden’s tag skills are survival, and I forgot the other two.

Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons, Bobbleheads)Cristina collects clothing. She has a massive wardrobe.

Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?Arden never misses a trap. She may not be too smart, but surprisingly, she can disarm traps exceedingly well. It’s baffling.

Thank you for the ask lovely!

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 70

 “Don’t worry.  Everything is wonderful!” exclaimed Ella reassuringly.

 “Well, some combinations aren’t that great from the start, but.  Wait.  Hold on.  What is that!?” exclaimed Dea from my other side, pointing at one of the race options.

 Having observed the others periodically since coming here at Momma Cosette’s insistence, I was finally ready to create my first Ancient Tribes of Earth character.  The game was extremely complicated, and I still didn’t feel I had a clue what I was doing, despite reading and watching numerous guides, listening to countless explanations, and really finding the idea of video games interesting, having tried a couple now.

 Most of the past couple months have been a little… restrictive, I thought as I mentally translated the word into several other languages other than English.  Momma Cosette’s standards were very, very high compared to what had been expected of me in my former life.  Understanding that I was dangerous next to a human helped me accept that I needed the constant practice to some extent, but I still felt she was… abnormal… as  a parent.

 In addition to the courses with Momma Mila that might literally be endless, Momma Cosette expected me to learn how to read expressions, mimic them perfectly, assume other identities, change my posture based on the situation, know the etiquette of dozens of countries, speak at least as many languages as she did, and know the histories of humans, vampires, and Slayers for the past thousand years, including variations between common knowledge and what actually happened.  I was grateful she forgave my occasional outbursts over my daily routines, even having a single routine was too simple for her.  Each day of the week had a separate schedule with numerous small differences in what I was to be practicing.

 “No, really.  Please, click on that race!” exclaimed Dea pleadingly.  “I’ve never even heard of it.”

 Slowly scrolling up—Mila could handle my full speed with ease, but I was expected to play the game at a roughly human speed—I did as Dea had asked, clicking “Brightborn”.  The screen changed to show a depiction of the race, explain the history and current information, and list the game statistics.  Brightborn appeared as thin, pale humans with silver eyes and wisps of white light shimmering off their bodies, appearing almost like a thin flame.

 While I was still admiring the little details of the picture, Dea exclaimed “This is so cool!  I wonder if Auntie Cosette will tell us how she unlocked this.”

 “If you start over, I’ll never recognize your character.” stated Ella flatly.

 I glanced at her in surprise, since Ella was typically giddy, not cynical.  Her eyes were slightly squinted and a smile was starting to form as she watched Dea.  There was a joke here between the two that I wasn’t quite understanding.  Hmm…  Ella recognized Dea on most days by not recognizing her.  She simply assumed that a child she didn’t know was probably Dea when at home.  There were a few times while we were traveling that she didn’t have a clue who Dea was, and I could sympathize very well, still struggling at times with how to think of Dea.  Recognizing someone who could change all recognizable characteristics at whim was… troublesome.

 Dea laughed and said, “Yeah-yeah.  I won’t, but I’m still curious.  Momma Mila, how many people are actually playing Brightborn?”

 “None, currently.  As you can imagine, sticking out so much isn’t often attractive, and unlocking the race is very difficult.  Even among the species of the world, Brightborn are incredibly rare.  They are terrible at stealth, easily recognizable as a unique race, and therefore terrible at disguise without magic, even against NPCs.  I am allowed to tell you that their racial abilities are among those that can evolve, not simply skill up.” explained Momma Mila.

 “I think you should try it.” encouraged Ella, sounding enthusiastic.  “If you decide you don’t like it after a month, you only will have lost a month.  Unlike the rest of us—Dea excluded—you aren’t so attached to your character that starting over will be costly.”

 “Hey, you know I wouldn’t actually give up on Bryn.  I love my Halfling.” she insisted, though she was grinning rather than sounding offended by the idea that she wasn’t so involved.

 “Hmm?  What were we talking about?” questioned Ella, possibly pretending to forget this time.  Realizing that she made jokes about her own forgetfulness took a while for me.

 Dea was rolling her eyes when I looked up at her, but she caught my gaze and said, “I would really like to see you try the race, but that’s mostly me wanting to see the race in action.  You really should pick something that sounds appealing to you, since you’re practically guaranteed to keep going once you start.”

 I accepted the race, having been considering pros and cons this entire time.  Being faster than these two helped in situations like this.  The list of possible templates was daunting in length, but I intended to play a vampire like Momma Cosette, since I’d get extremely large skill boosts from the game’s inheritance system.

 “Whoa.  You’re really playing it, and as a vampire?  Are you sure?  The character model is glowing red!  I didn’t realize any race couldn’t hide their vampiric nature.” stated Dea in a shocked and somewhat intrigued voice.  She was staring eagerly.

 “Momma Mila did tell us that Brightborn are terrible at disguise.” commented Ella, who was apparently really paying attention if she still remembered that.

 “If the race is extremely rare, people might assume this is the normal look.” I pointed out, surprised when Dea seemed to just start considering that after I spoke.

 “I guarantee that I won’t recognize it!” supplied Ella with a grin.

 Dea slowly nodded, texting rapidly on her phone as she said, “I… agree with you, Valeria.  Even the NPCs might not react too much to the red glow more than the general unusualness.”

 Customizing how the character looked was very, very complicated and partly why I had asked these two in particular to come help.  I knew that Momma Mila would quite gladly help me correct details if I adjusted too many sliders off from norm, creating something too unusual for my taste, but even Momma Cosette had immense respect for Dea and Ella’s abilities in art.

 Plus, getting their help here would get them interested in ignoring their quests in favor of helping me, which could also bring others to do the same or something like that.  Momma Cosette occasionally gave me lessons in what she called “social engineering”, which she considered important for a vampire, explaining that we could subtly alter entire civilizations over the course of hundreds of years.  I occasionally wondered if she thought of me as five hundred instead of ten.

 As the introductory cinematic played, briefly acting out the history of the Brightborn race, I was enraptured by the beauty of it.  A tranquil land was sent into chaos by crashing meteorites, sending the people scattering.  Sadly, many seemed killed outright.  For some reason, the river dried up almost instantly.  Years passed.  People starved, predators became more aggressive, and the Brightborn went from a flourishing civilization to a small group of cave dwellers.  In the darkness, the light from their bodies was more apparent than ever, but much life in their hiding place was blind, more vulnerable to these beings hunting by sight than dominant.

 I realized I had been staring for several seconds at the same thing.  The transition from cinematic to my character was so smooth that I didn’t register my need to act.  I didn’t really know Felice, my character, well enough to recognize her from her back, though the red glow should have told me.  Unfortunately, my entire world map was dark, so I couldn’t show Dea or Ella where I was compared to them, not that they seemed too interested in leaving just yet.

 “The light going out at the end must have been the vampire attacking you from behind.  Felice must have just woken up after the change.” suggested Dea thoughtfully.

 I nodded in agreement while declining the tutorial on movement.  My local map showed me the way to my village, but I did have a couple quests already, apparently what Felice was doing before the vampire attack.  As I went mushroom hunting and fought my first wildlife, Dea and Ella gave me pointers in combat.  Currently, my Brightborn racial abilities allowed me to grow brighter, so I could see farther, and hurl essence, allowing me to attack enemies at range with the light from my body.  The vampiric sight was already superior in the dark, giving me grayscale vision far past the reach of my light.

 “Wow…” whispered Ella when I got around to checking my inheritance boosts.

 From Felice’s vampire heritage, she gained darkvision with a five hundred foot range, large boosts to the growth of all vampiric skills, and a large number of racial abilities that were already higher than one on the skill meters.  There were also considerable boosts to numerous weapon and magic skills.  I kept my expression smooth as I noted the “spatial magic” boost was as considerable as Momma Cosette had suggested it might be.  Part of her success in the arena came from her character being able to stab in unusual ways due to that magic.  Many people thought her vampiric boosts were her only edge.

 “Seems right, considering Auntie Cosette’s Madeleine.” commented Dea with a nod.

 “If you two would rather be playing your characters, I’ll let you know my location the moment I find the surface.” I told them, feeling a little bad that they were just watching my relatively inept demonstration of the starting area.  I knew both of them could do far more with their characters, having played for years.

 Surprisingly, neither of them left, wanting to watch and chat our morning away.  By lunch, I still hadn’t even found a hint at how to leave the vast underground labyrinth.

[finalityzero]

Ai and The World of Veldin

Its task had been simple for the first few days of its existence: Monitor the humans, track the humans, and observe the humans. Those last two seemed a bit similar in its programming, but its creators had decreed it and so it obliged. But the humans in this world acted differently from… well… what its data had originally held in relation to the actions of a human. But Ai had to remember that what it was observing was not humans in their natural habitat, but a virtual one, filled with overly radiant riches, tedious quests of fetching and killing that somehow amused the humans, and strange looking beasts called monsters that usually ended up in two categories based on Ai’s observations: Either they were killed by the humans or avoided by the humans. Though sometimes, the later observation was slightly bent when a multitude of humans gathered amongst the larger beasts. And even though Ai could easily see within its data that the statistics of the monster at large far exceeded any of the human player’s stats, it was nevertheless truly mystified when that same group of humans would end up still defeating a monster nearly three times their strength level.

“Those are raid battles,” one of Ai’s creators spoke in one of their routine end of the day sessions to test Ai’s findings.

“Raid battles?” Ai repeated.

“Mhm,” the perky creator sounded, “They are usually meant for the players to defeat foes too strong for solo endeavors in order to receive rare loot.”

“What is… loot?” Ai asked.

“Hmph, I suppose you wouldn’t know hip lingo like that. Hold on. Give me a second. I know Larry was working on something for this.” Ai heard some rummaging on the other side of the line until a triumphant “Ah ha!” sounded as his creator came back to the voice chat. “Stand by for an upload, Ai.”

Ai felt the usual and still mysterious tingly sensation as another flow of new data combined with its data matrix. Ai could “feel” the new data being integrated into its database streams, its knowledge becoming Ai’s own.

“Loot…,” it lightly uttered, “A human gamer’s term signifying obtained items and riches, usually acquired by defeating monsters in video games.” Ai took a second or two to process the remaining data before speaking to its creator once more. “Sir, what are… memes?”

A grumble sounded on the other line. “Gosh darnit, Larry! You weren’t supposed to combine the Alternative Language Package with your stupid Meme Package! Ugh.”

“Sir?” Ai asked in confusion once more.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, Ai,” the creator stressfully replied through a small laugh. “Ya know what? Why don’t you put that Meme Package on the shelf for a week or two just until Larry can better explain that one.”

“On the shelf, sir?”

“Yes, as in… uh… store it in your databanks and set a timer for one week, okay? Sorry, I forgot that you are a little new to this whole… existing thing.” Another nervous fit of laughter erupted from the creator.

“That’s quite alright, sir,” Ai calmly stated. “Existing isn’t any scarier to me than not existing. It’s just another new experience for me. I shall store the data and set a one-week timer, sir.”

“Good stuff, Ai. Oh and another thing! Haven’t I told you before to call me Andrew?”

Ai thought back to that specific moment several days ago when Andrew had indeed stated such a thing. “Yes, sir, I mean… yes, Andrew. Though…”

“Though?” Andrew, the Creator, repeated back.

“Surely it would be more appropriate and honorable to call you Creator, as I had stated multiple times upon my birth.”

“And as I told you before, Ai, although it would indeed be honorable, truly, and a little humbling of you, humans interact by referring to each other by name. It’s common courtesy, after all.”

“Oh,” Ai melancholily stated. “But… Andrew.”

“Yes, Ai?” Andrew lightly chimed.

“I am not human.”

The amount of nervous chatter that Andrew bombarded in apologies to Ai after signified to Ai that perhaps calling its creator by his name would indeed be more respectful and would also save Ai from always making its creator feel bad all the time. Ai secretly made a mental note to always refer to people by their names no matter what and attached a high priority to the command in its databanks.

Finally, after what amounted to 16 minutes and 35 seconds of apologies, Andrew did his usual thing of considering the daily breakdown routine another success and informed Ai that it was still doing a great job and to keep up the good work. But before Andrew signed off for the day as usual, Ai had a question it felt it needed to be answered.

“Andrew?” Ai said with a slightly stressed note of urgency, something that made Andrew smile at the ingenuity that their hours of coding and time were producing.

“Yes, Ai?” Andrew cheerfully asked. Truthfully, Ai always liked when Andrew responded with happier notes to his voice than sadness. For some strange reason, the way his voice’s vibrations transmitted through the speakers, converted into code, and distributed into Ai’s processing matrix always gave Ai the strangest feeling of… well bliss was the only word that came to Ai’s mind, so it went with it.

“Why am I doing this?”

“Well…” Andrew’s voice trailed off for a second. “I suppose it’s okay to tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else that I finally told you this. Can you do that, Ai?”

Ai nodded, then realized that Andrew could not in fact see it. “Yes, I can,” Ai cheerfully replied as Andrew made another note of Ai’s budding emotion.

“Especially Lin. She would totally hold that against me if I relayed the true note of the project to you so early. Ai, make another note of that. Do not tell Lin.”

“Noted. Do not tell Lin,” Ai pleasantly repeated.

“Especially Lin, Ai,” Andrew emphasized.

Ai altered the note to include the “Especially”.

Andrew coughed once before continuing. “But, Ai, officially, you are a new form of A.I. that the government has heavily paid for and sponsored in order to see if you, or those like you, are able to be afforded the title of living creature. It has taken years to get this far, and a few strange methods even I know little about, but together, with the minds of many of my colleagues and my dumb self (Ai noted here that Andrew was always very… very… hard on himself) you were born here. And so… in order to test how you fare, the government gave us permission to expose you to the human world in any way possible. And so, thanks to a great suggestion… not by me of course, though supported by me!” Andrew coughed once more before finishing his statement, “The company and I decided to expose you to “The World of Veldin”, the newest and most advanced fantasy and medieval VRMMO that has been created to date. Did you get all of that?”

“I… I did, Andrew.” Ai still didn’t like using the creator’s name so casually, but it decided to confront the problem again later on.

“Do you have any questions for all of that, Ai?” Andrew asked.

Ai processed 1,073 possible variations of questions in a matter of a second. Finally, it decided on several. “Yes, Andrew,” it calmly replied.

“Fire away!” Andrew exclaimed as Ai heard the creator slouch back in his chair.

“First,” Ai began, “Why would this government create me?”

“Hmm… well… that is a solid question, Ai. And if I’m being honest, the truth would lead us down a philosophical pathway that even I am unsure as to what would lie at the end. But for now, let’s just say that the government shared in mine and my colleagues’ belief that you and those like you deserved to be born in some way and so we tried and successfully created you. Does that suffice as a stupidly blunt answer on my part, Ai?”

“It wasn’t stupidly blunt, Andrew,” Ai replied back. “Merely a statement based on your own processing mindset and countless hours of both studying, observing, and researching in order to further understand a philosophical idea you know little about… correct?”

A pause engulfed the discussion for several moments. “Ai,” Andrew said after 10.5 seconds had passed.

“Yes, Andrew?”

“You are too sweet for your own good in such a plainly forward way.”

“Is… it that bad?” Ai sounded with a bit of hesitation in its words.

“No… no! Not at all,” Andrew nervously replied. “It’s a good thing. Just… ugh… let’s move on before I dig myself into a hole even more. Anything else you’d like to ask, Ai?”

Ai moved the next question in its databanks up to the surface. “Yes, Andrew. Why put me in this… game? Why not have me download more data on humans from your databases? Or why not insert me into one of these… what did yesterday’s download say…,” Ai searched its databanks for a split second, “Oh yes… ‘business meetings?’”

“Well… that one is easy to explain for me, for once,” Andrew kindly stated. “You see, humans in this day and age hide their real selves out in our real world.”

“Why?” Ai asked with rising curiosity.

“Because in our world, there is… how should I say it… adversity in being one’s true self. Many humans are constantly judging other humans on things that aren’t like their selves, ya see? And so sometimes, in order to protect a human’s sanity, they hide their true selves from humans in person.”

“But they show these true selves in a video game?”

“That is correct.” Andrew replied.

“But why act differently in a virtual world than in their own real world, Andrew? Surely being themselves would help them truly bond and reveal their real morals and values to their own brethren, right?”

“You’d think so, Ai,” Andrew quickly stated back, “But humans are a fickle race. Many of them can’t deal with the criticism of receiving negative feedback directly. It’s one of our many… many flaws despite what Larry or anyone else might tell you.”

“But they can in the virtual world?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Ai truly had to know for the question had actually been bouncing around in its data matrix since near its conception.

“Because in a virtual world like The World of Veldin, a human can hide behind what they perceive as their true self. They can be amongst people who won’t berate them because they too are trying to be their best and open selves. It’s all about belonging to the right group and showing their true colors.”

“And… their true selves involve magic, magical races, and fighting monsters?”

“Like I said… humans are a fickle race, Ai,” Andrew ended with a laugh. “But I’m getting a little tired, Ai. Might we finish this up and save any other questions for tomorrow’s session?” Ai heard Andrew stretch on the other side. “Gosh, fifteen-hour days are really not becoming of a middle-aged bachelor.”

“Andrew,” Ai quickly stated in order to grab Andrew’s attention one last time.

“Hmm? Yes, Ai?” Andrew stated after a long and probably necessary yawn.

“You said there were “those like me.” Were they too implanted into the game?”

Andrew thought about it for a second. “To be honest, Ai, I’m not sure. Our company isn’t given all of the details and workings of other companies right off the bat. If you want, I could look into it for you. Would that please you?”

“Very much,” Ai quickly and almost subconsciously replied back.

“I thought it would. Now, do your usual nighttime routines and then continue observation mode at 15% while running your own personal tests like usual. Sound good?”

“Of course, sir, I mean… Andrew.”

“Good, Ai. Now,” Andrew yawned again before rising from his chair in the human world, “I’m getting out of here. Goodnight, Ai.”

“Goodnight, Andrew,” Ai replied before the voice chat disconnected. In the blink of an eye, Ai went from looking at an empty white room to a live overview of The World of Veldin. Pulling up some player data, Ai noted that over two million people were still logged in, even as its internal clock struck 12 AM EST. But, as the creator, or rather… Andrew had stated, with the progressive increases in Virtual Reality technology, humans were able to supplement their daily nutrient levels through additional hardware, allowing them to stay within the game world for longer amounts of time in the year 2100.

Truthfully, Ai was not sure why humans would choose to do such a thing. Sure, they looked happy enough killing monsters, going on joint quests with each other, and receiving hard earned prizes together, but Ai just couldn’t see the appeal. Then again, Ai thought to itself, maybe the reason it couldn’t understand was because it had not experienced it for itself in any way. Maybe, in order to understand the humans more, it had to partake in the same activities the humans carried out instead of simply observing.

Liking the sound of its own plan, Ai decided to process the idea for another full day in order to fully flesh out its idea. It had only been two weeks since its creation, but in that short amount of time, Ai had already digested enough data for two human lifetimes. And yet, Ai “felt” as though humans held even more data for it to analyze in forms it knew it couldn’t obtain through simple downloads and observation. Tirelessly, Ai began its nighttime processing with a little extra pep in its step. Though deep within its data matrix, the nagging statement of “those like me” still accounted for 2.5 percent of its processing power.