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hrtzz · 2 days ago

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Connor NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Connor is extremely attentive of your vitals, keeping an eye on your hydration levels, heartbeat and overall well-being. He will clean you up every time, maintaining himself and his partner is very important for him. He will get you anything you need but if you require anything over water you have to ask, although he can see much more than a human can he isn't a mind reader

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Connor doesn't have a favourite body part on himself, he's aware he's perfectly designed to appeal and integrate with humans so he doesn't get insecure about himself physically, that also means he doesn't favour any physical part of himself, but if he had to choose, he knows if he gives you a certain look with his eyes you give in to him pretty quickly, which always works to his benefit.

For you it would be everything if it could, he's constantly learning new things about humans and you. He definitely favours your waist and hips, loves grabbing onto them everywhere whether he's being subtle or not, he has you in his control and to an android who's used to following orders having someone else following his is somewhat empowering to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Either inside your mouth or inside you. He doesn't gain anything in covering you with cum, just makes a mess, and he also can't get you pregnant so he doesn't have to worry about anything like that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Tried masturbating, and like it. He's too ashamed to admit it to you, as normal as it is to humans, for an android like him it feels like selfish indulgence. He's much more of a giver than a receiver and sometimes feels like sex is more for your benefit than his, after all he never even considered sex until it came to you. When he realised he liked masturbating he felt guilty, like you would believe that he preferred his hand to you, so he never told you, until one day you caught him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had no experience before you but he easily done his research. You guided him at first and he eventually got more brave in the bedroom, more explorational, he was a fast learner too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. Loves to watch you on top of him while grabbing your hips, and gives you both equal control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He takes sex quite seriously if you make a joke he will play along but like his missions he has a goal to accomplish, and nothing will get in the way of that goal.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Neatly trimmed, and uniform to his hair, again his maintenance takes a certain priority.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As romantic as they get. He's very focused of course but understands moments like these are nothing to you without the romantic aspect.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Again, he enjoys it. Doesn't do it often but if he finds himself bored at home then he will partake in it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves praise as he was programmed to respond positively to it.

Loves being the more dominant one as he gets to be in control.

He's never admitted this one to you but once you playfully ran away from him after trying to initiate sex and the chase before he undoubtedly caught you sparked something in him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom is the only place he likes. Sex is meant for the bedroom and meant to stay in the bedroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Praise really gets him going if you mention his impeccable skills in the bedroom and how much you yearn for them in the current moment he will gladly accept. “You need my skills? Well of course I'm happy to be of service!”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won't cause you or him harm. Won't have sex outside the bedroom. Won't participate in a threesome. Anything that puts either of you in danger. Things that cause way too much mess (Usually involving bodily fluids)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving, he can analyse your that way too like he does with blood. Once told you that you might wanna drink more water as the acidic level- and he has to stop as a light smack came to his head. He learnt not to analyse you mid eating you out. Loves to delve his face into you, and since he's an android he wont come up for air. As he's doing this he's constantly looking at you watching your reactions.

Receiving is also great but he got too carried away in it once, had you coughing for a good minute, he forgot humans have to breath and have gag reflexes, and now has too control himself everytime, which irritates him as he usually likes to let loose during sex.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can do both depending on what you're responding to the best. If he's pissed off he tends to take it out in sex.

“F- shit! Jesus Connor! Rough day?”

“You, ngh, have no idea.”

Usually is slow and sensual as he gets a better look at your reactions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hates them, sex is a special thing to him and to rush it just ruins it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Is very open to new things and will try most things at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's an android, he can last all day and night. Usually stops when you're overstimulated (sometimes keeps it going for longer)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't use toys. He's got many features, toys are somewhat useless to you both.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves to tease, usually tests how long you can go for until you break

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can be quiet but much prefers to be loud, he wants you to know he's enjoying it as much as he is.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Short-circuited once after cumming. Wouldn't let you mention to him ever again after that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He was given above average, around 7.5. A notable length but average girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

At first it's high, he wants to learn so much and asks you almost every chance he gets. Once he gets the hang of sex he pulls it back a little but will never deny you if the opportunity strikes (unless he's in a teasing mood)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless he's low on power he doesn't need to sleep, if you fall asleep on him he will go into rest mode but will never fall asleep before you.

If you have any requests please let me know, especially for Connor (or Markus he never gets enough love)

#dbh connor #connor rk800 #dbh #Connor rk800 x reader #detroit become human #x reader

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latenightgasstationwalk · 1 year ago

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Staving off a tide of violent urges as I process the various horrors I saw today. This job is becoming actually bad for my brain. Today I went to an apartment complex that I’ve already bitched about a few times, but today was my breaking point lol I was lead into the apartment by this Maintainance man, who promptly took off the second he knocked on the tenants door, they came to the door abs I couldn’t even process what I was seeing when the door swung open. One bedroom apartment, 5 people on the floor wrapped up in blankets and literal crack smoke in the air. A windowsill is stacked high with picked clean chicken bones? Roaches everywhere. as soon as I walked in one of the people in the apartment went up to this girl who was completely still on the couch and started violent shaking her screaming “WAKE UP HEY WAKE UP THERES PEOPLE HERE” and she was 110% unresponsive. The windows had been broken for about a year and just had a board put over them….on the inside. Here’s a fun fact: When you break a window and board it up from the inside, all of mother natures mighty feats of degradation of man made materials will ruin your sashes and window frame forever! At least that’s what happen when you leave busted windows up for a FUCKING YEAR WITH NOTHIN TO PROTECT THEM BOARDING THEM UP FROM THE INSIDE MAKES 0 SENSE

Just a week before when I went to measure the windows The aforementioned maintenance man insisted I measure these windows from the outside, because he “didn’t wana take thee boards down” so I was like “uh ok” I really didn’t see a problem at the time. So he very clearly didn’t want me to see the inside prior, for obvious reasons, so he had me do it from the outside so I’d show up and be blind sided. That was my working theory when this happened initially. Come to find out, my co-worker / best buddy already went and measured these 7 months ago and told them they were beyond repair and glass replacement wouldn’t even work at this point. So this guy Fucking knew what he was doing the entire time.

So when I got back to the shop and informed my boss of what happened she called and said she didn’t want to put her technicians in any danger so we wouldn’t be returning. This Fucking maintenance man told her that he was in there the whole time. Like I wish I took a picture of this mother fucker when I came outside of that actual nightmare, he was sitting on a picnic table smoking a cigarette, this guy bailed on me as fast as he could and went out for a lil smoke break while I tried by best to avoid any stray needles that may have found their way onto the carpet. Then tells my boss on the phone that he was in there with me lololololol sublime excellent wonderful amazing im this close to turning one of these mother fuckers into an example it’s not even funny.

Either way, my boss said she’s going to try to get permission from the big big bosses (we’re a small company owned by a multi-billion dollar company) and she said even if we do go back in the future we’re going to have ground rules that these maintenance blockheads have to follow the second they don’t were Fucking splitting.

Like I just can’t do this anymore, one of my clients at this job is a housing assistance program that provides housing for addicts and that’s like my main daily thing. And like I’m not looking down on anyone in that kind of position, I have addicts in my life and it’s terrible and sad, but I can’t help but not feel safe. Especially when the extent that the people who are supposed to be coordinating this Shit for me do is call me and warn me about the bad stuff lol I’m not accusing anyone of trying to steal my tools, but I’ve been told probably 10000 Fucking times by the same guy “not to leave any expensive tools around because the people in this unit have already stolen from several contractors” it’s like dude what the Fuck. I make $19 an hour I don’t get paid enough to fight off the most desperate people alive.

And this keeps happening every Fucking day because they’re putting me in charge of all the glazing jobs that the more senior glazer doesn’t want anymore lol so this is just my life for probably the next couple years. Trying not to get killed for the $10,000 worth of tools in my van or just the van in general. Like it’s really Fucking dumb. I’m sorry if I sound insensitive to the struggle of the people in these situations but I promise you anyone in my position would be incredibly frustrated and generally unhappy lol

Thanks for reading

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dollsonmain · 1 year ago

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New "houseperson" job posting from the Casino. I'd prefer that to cleaning the individual rooms, really. The part where it says you have to clean out the ash trays puts me off applying more than anything else. I don't want to work around smokers.

"Reports problems and safety issues to supervisor" could have been ONE bullet point, not added to almost every bullet point AND it's own bullet point.

Uses daily checklist to direct and record activities

Inspects entries including: door mats, trash cans and cigarette urns to ensure cleanliness standards have been met. Cleans and reports any problems to supervisor.

Maintains cleanliness of Lobby, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, picking up debris and trash, emptying trash cans.

Cleans assigned public hallways, policing for trash and/or debris; vacuums and dusts hallway furniture and fixtures and washes corridor windows on schedule. Reports problems and safety issues to supervisor.

Greets guests in hotel public areas as they are encountered, always smiling and conveying positive hospitality standards.

Assists with setting and arranging conference rooms in preparation for events and meetings, according to Sales department specifications. Cleans room(s) after each day’s use.

Cleans Public restrooms and maintains room supplies.

Maintains cleanliness of Pool area, reports problems to supervisor or Maintenance as appropriate to property standard. Is there a pool on property?

Uses floor machine to scrub tile floors and uses floor wax to polish floor after application.

Uses carpet machine to clean carpeting and remove stains

Cleans, vacuums, dusts and empties trash cans in staff offices. Also maintains cleanliness and supplies for Employee Break Area as may be assigned to include wipe down, sweeping, mopping, emptying trash and re-stocking.

Delivers clean linens and collects/removes soiled linen.

Re-stocks Housekeeping storage closets as needed

Makes up cribs and rollaway beds (along with room attendants) after use and prior to storage

Delivers Housekeeping supplies as instructed.

Assists Housekeeping staff with movement of heavy items such as mattresses.

Responds quickly and courteously to guest requests. Follows up to ensure guest satisfaction.

May be required to clean rooms as may be necessary.

Provides a professional image in appearance and behavior at all times.

Follows all company policies and procedures and actively participates in all hotel meetings, task forces, training and programs.

Thoroughly familiar with Emergency Procedures.

Familiar with HAZCOM as related to position. Follows all chemical and equipment safety handling procedures.

Always alert for Security and Safety issues and hazards and reports same immediately to supervisor.

.... jfc that's a lot to expect one person to do.

The only thing I really can't do is using the floor buffer. My back can't take the side-to-side motion which is why I had "no mopping" on my permanent profile in the army.

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tamilselvamppts · 1 year ago

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Office Cleaning Services - How to Efficiently Include Tasks

Introduction:

A productive and healthy work atmosphere is crucial in the busy world of business, and this requires keeping the office clean and organized. Office cleaning services are essential for making sure that the workspace is both visually beautiful and healthy for employees. This thorough guide will show you how to effectively include tasks into office cleaning services so that your workspace looks great and stands out from the competition.

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Creating a Customized Cleaning Checklist

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Daily Cleaning Services:

1. Replace the liners in waste receptacles and empty them. As needed, wash.

2. Vacuum every mat and carpet.

3. Scrub every hard floor.

4. Dust all of the furniture's horizontal surfaces, including tables, chairs, and workstations.

5. Use a disinfectant to damply clean any horizontal surfaces.

6. Use a disinfecting mop on any hard floors.

7. Clear the front entrance and the nearby vicinity of cobwebs.

8. Eliminate traces and fingerprints from the area surrounding door frames and light switches.

9. Spotless outside and interior automated glass doors

10. Clean every inside window.

11. Shine up the bright work on doors and cabinets and polish all brass.

12. Identify spotty painted surfaces and walls.

Prioritizing High-Traffic Areas

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Meeting spaces

Common areas

Entrances frequently

These areas are need more frequent maintenance to maintain a professional atmosphere and make a good first impression.

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ideahat-universe · 2 years ago

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I'm talking about Security Breach again because I've lost control of my life.

The upcoming ruin Expansion (or is it DLC) for the game is coming out and I still want the version of the original game we should have gotten.

They stopped working on it and they never figured out how to make that stealth work in a satisfying way and the chase system is broken as all hell.

Maybe they figured out in Ruin but I'm cynical to that idea.

Because to me, and I feel like this is a hot take but to me we've moved past the animatronics being scary.

The animatronics were scary when they were dead rotting bodies soiled into the carpet textures of the animatronics with the only signs of life being moans of pain and suffering. It's what made the original FNAF really creepy and it's why the Springtrap is the best Spring Bonnie outfit as it's all about the desiccated corpse rotting in the mangy springlock suit.

The horror of being killed, bleeding and oozing onto these lifeless objects and granting it life via possession is the winning formula.

But since the addition of "Remnant" the formula has been cheapened like coke when it went back to the classic formula but not really. We get possession the simple and clean way.

Robots being injected with the soul energy of the previous victims OR the "code" is evil and thus you get all the aspects of an evil animatronic minus all the narrative elements that made it compelling.

I really don't think we need the robots to be the scare factor in the stories anymore (especially if we outright refuse to have dead bodies that aren't Afton trapped in robotic bodies) so we should pivot towards Vanny, actually what we should have done is made it to where copies of the Glitchtrap virus were in every copy of The Freddy Fazbear Virtual Experience has a chance to infect the mind of the people who play it and have them carry out murders, not to revive Afton because "muh immortality" but because the Afton Virus compels people to kill irrationally and FNAF pizza places are just hunting grounds (again because the code compels them to seek out the vulnerable there) then we could have a series of video games in difference places with themed restaurants and even vastly different animatronics all with the central theme that a mind slaved person is killing people there.

The killer of the game would be the real sole villain and the animatronics do not try to kill you, on purpose.

It would be a different gimmick each game. Here's some examples: Toy style animatronics mistake you for the killer so they're always apprehending you instead of the real culprit and you have to trick the Toy animatronics into legitimately catching the real killer.

You're exploring the pizza place after it closed so while the night guard is looking to capture you the animatronics treat you to a good time and protect you from the killer.

A Fazbear escape room (one where the animatronics don't kill you but a killer is hiding in the room and waits for an opening).

Various period reenactment settings where visitors are expected to roleplay with the robots where the killer is disguised as a larper.

A real Circus baby carnival (where the killer functions a lot like the murderer in Bad Day on the Midway).

Animatronics at various zoo settings where the killer uses the animals to commit the murders.

A Fazbear fright that has functioning scare focused animatronics and a real killer hidden amongst them.

You're an engineer at a fazbear establishment and you have to program the performer and the security animatronics to find the right killer and apprehend them by plugging in clues for them to profile the culprit.

Pizzeria simulator but this time you are actually running a real pizza place with all the day stuff and in-between stuff the same but the night stuff is just you doing maintenance and making sure that if children start vanishing from the pizza place that you find out why and put an end to it quickly.

I could go on but you get the idea. We are not supposed to still be stuck on talking about the original 5 or so killed kids, Cassidy, or even the Afton family. The fire at the end of Simulator wasn't just to free the main characters but to free us from the constrictions of traditional FNAF.

If we can't escape the rinse repeat cycle of being at a FNAF location the day or week it gets shut down due to a killer who is either Afton or Afton related and then add 5 new loose ends while closing 3 old ones then as it turns out William Afton is not stuck in hell doomed to get jump scared for all eternity.

We are.

#fnaf au #fnaf security breach

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whitehallcarpetcleaners · 2 years ago

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stabby-sheepy-writes · 2 years ago

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Operative #6

Genre: Horror, 5k words,

TW: Death, Suicide, Violence, Body Horror, Gore, Mechanical Horror

AN: I had a really cute idea and it turned into this horror piece, and all of my friends adore my little robot buddy so I decided to share him here. No lesbians in this one, but boy does Wilbur like to spin. Look at him go.

Summary: What happens if the robots we've built to care for us refuse to let us die?

PDF Host Document Vers.

Somewhere in the middle of the rolling hills and plains, where the grass was green and the skies always blue, there lies a town. On the edge of this small, yet lovely town, stands a small yet lovely wooden house at the edge of the woods. The house was made of logs and brick, handbuilt long ago and lived in for generations, seeing child after child grow up and pass the house down to their next of kin. Although the house itself was simple, as the technology in the world grew smarter and more complex and the town grew larger and larger, bit by bit the little wooden house found itself gaining a few upgrades. First the phone lines, then the internet, then different smart appliances here and there until finally the day came that Wilbur joined the household.

Wilbur was a small helper robot, given to the old man of the home by his children who had grown too old to live and take care of him anymore--not that the old man needed Wilbur, as he was apt to say.

A grown man should take care of himself, is what he would say when his eldest helped him take the robot out of the box and put it together.

The newfangled thing will never get used, he said as his middle child helped him program in the routines Wilbur was to follow every day.

It’ll get underfoot, he grumbled as his youngest helped set up the tracking and showed him the different options he could access from the app on his phone, and to explain the self-learning aspects of the new little machine.

“It’ll learn and grow smarter as you use it, and soon it will be able to do things on its own without you having to tell it so or put it into its programming. Isn’t that amazing, Dad?”

The old man had dismissed such a notion, stating quite simply that he would tolerate its presence with him, as he was sure it would at least provide him some conversation in town. And naturally, once his children left and it was just the old man and Wilbur in the little wooden home, Wilbur very quickly became the old man’s favorite.

┍━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

The only sound to break the morning silence as the sun broke the horizon was the little start-up tune as Wilbur’s facial display opened his eyes and ejected him from his charging station. The small motors in his body whirred to life as Wilbur’s sensors looked around the kitchen before his vacuum descended and he began to roll.

Operative #1: At 5:00 am, vacuum the carpets and clean the hardwood

The little robot moved steadily throughout the little house, picking up dust bunnies and small crumbs left behind from the previous day--taking extra care to chase a stray dust bunny so as to leave the floors spotless and clean.

Operative #2: At 5:30 am, dust the furniture and the stairway, be especially careful of the Master’s gun on the wall.

A feather duster deployed from the arm, separating itself out from the tools stored away in Wilbur’s little body, sweeping quickly over surfaces that were cleaned every morning. The maintenance went quick and yet the robot made sure to be thorough, knowing that the Old Man’s lungs struggled when dust got into the air--something not abnormal, according to Wilbur’s searching over his internet connection. The duster, as instructed, brushed lightly over the old wood and metal of the shotgun hung decoratively on the wall. An old thing, his processors reported, and easily capable of going off with the wrong change in environment. The Old Man always kept it loaded, and an accidental discharge would be a disastrous start to the day.

Operative #3: At 5:45am, unload the dishwasher and put the dishes away

Delicate movements and careful application of pressure had to be imparted on Wilbur’s side, pincers and mechanical body moving quickly and efficiently to unload the dishes from the machine and put them away without risking even a chip. Another arm sprouted from his back panel to join his front two with a rag during this, wiping each surface to ensure cleanliness and dryness before putting away the dishes.

Operative #4: At 6:00am, prepare the Master’s tea and start the electric kettle.

Wilbur’s sensors picked up on movement upstairs--the ringing of his Master’s morning alarm, at 6am sharp. An arm shot out to the side and flicked on the electric kettle, body whirling and spinning on their joints. Pincers delved into the tea bags on the counter, another arm sweeping the daily wooden mug across the counter and depositing the bag inside to await the boiling water.

Operative #5: Print the daily news and leave it at the head of the table.

Footsteps were coming down the stairs, Wilbur’s display screen rapidly reading and scanning the internet for the designated morning news feed and chest printing out and organizing the different papers swiftly as the old man rounded the corner, depositing them in front of him as he sat down and the kettle flipped off.

Operative #6: Pour the boiling water from the kettle into the tea cup and place it in front of the Master.

The old man sat down in his chair, moving slowly and shakily as Wilbur set the cup in front of him and then remained still. Wilbur sat idle, waiting to hear if his Master had any further orders, his systems unable to continue their routine until the cup of tea was emptied. The old man’s hands found the top of Wilbur’s head, stroking wrinkled and thin fingers over the metal plating of his head, a weathered chuckle coughing its way out of his chest.

“One of the kiddos will take you in, I’m sure Wilbur.”

Wilbur responded back in a series of beeps, his code only able to communicate in 1s and 0s that other machines of his caliber understood and yet his master had never been able to. It didn’t seem to matter, as the old man only chuckled again and stroked once more.

“Make sure they don’t grieve me too long, little fella. They all have their own families to take care of. My will is upstairs in the folder, as well as the titles and bank account details. I’m sure John will be able to handle it.”

The old man started to lean back in his chair, weight shifting limply as Wilbur watched on, processors whirling as he watched his Master start to slump and lean, his mouth opening in an attempt to whisper something more, but growing still before any word could be spoken.

Wilbur waited by the tableside, process stuck in the center of his millions of lines of code, unable to move on to the ever important Operative #7 or even Operative #8 until the cup of tea, sitting and growing cold on the table, was emptied by his Master. A few minutes passed, the air still and the birds still singing with the rise of the morning sun, before Wilbur’s inherent self-learning protocols kicked in and allowed him to deviate from his morning processes.

Wilbur’s display blinked before rebooting, then looking up at his Master’s slackened, peaceful face. His skin had grown cold, and his cheeks pale and nearly blue from loss of color. One of Wilbur’s sensors pressed against the pulse-point on the old man’s thin wrist, and after a moment received back the input that there was no indication of a heartbeat.

The robot whirred its gears as it processed the information, unsure of what to do. None of its processes had ever considered the possibility of death--in fact, beyond its definition, Wilbur the robot did not actually understand what death was. What Wilbur understood was that he could not properly move on with his dedicated tasks and services until his Master completed the step of drinking his tea in the morning. His job was to take care of the Master, and keep him healthy and alive. Wilbur made a little trilling noise as he let himself do a little spin--a trick the old man had taught him, and one that the robot had decided it rather enjoyed doing--and resolved himself to solving this new puzzle.

More sensors snaked their way up through his Master’s clothes, feeling for different signs of life in an effort to identify the problem while Wilbur’s processors raced to identify a solution, before his display turned to consider the dishwasher. Schematics of car engines, of pumping mechanisms moving fluids, filled Wilbur’s robotic head until it settled on a design.

One of his arms swapped out to a circle-blade attachment, formally used to open packages but now finding its intended purpose to be expanded, and began to cut while Wilbur’s other arms started to pillage the dishwasher for the parts he would need.

The sun was setting when Wilbur carefully connected the last wire, the metal meshed into the flesh of the heart forcing it to pump. It took a few minutes, during which Wilbur watched on until the lungs started to fill and deflate with air, and the old man’s eyes opened.

“What…?” the old man whispered, eyes glazed and skin starting to regain its color as his new metal heart pumped and his brain woke back up. Wilbur trilled in response, giving a little spin of celebration as he watched his Master shakily stand to his feet.

“What…what did you do, Wilbur?” The old man stumbled, grasping at his open chest and dragging himself to the closest mirror to stare in horror at his open ribcage.

Wilbur followed after him, processes already starting to calculate the time it would take to catch up on the rest of the day’s procedures before he would have to perform the ones for tomorrow. The old man moaned in horror as his wrinkled, shaking hands delved into his chest to touch the grafted metal, feeling flesh and tissue that had been dead hours before now pumping and breathing once more.

“This…this must be a nightmare,” the old man shook, hands grasping tighter at the heart, intelligent old eyes piecing together the wires and fingers carefully reaching up towards them, “or a test for what comes after death…that’s it, some sort of test, surely.”

Wilbur chirruped again, picking up pots and pans and taking stock of what was in the pantry. While the rest of the schedule had been thrown off, at least dinner would still be on time at this rate--perhaps a pasta? Something hearty and caloric to get his Master’s body back in tip top shape. The little robot paused when he heard the sound of ripping flesh and moans of pain. Wilbur turned his display to take in the sight of the old man, hand buried deep into his chest, just in time to watch said hand pull the metal heart out of his chest with a fleshy rip.

“Now…now finally I must move on? I must have passed…” the old man whispered, crumpling to the ground into the growing pile of blood and other bodily fluids. Wilbur’s sensors picked up quickly the sound of fading breath, processing the new inputs as the old man passed away on the floor. After a moment, the little robot put the pots and pans down and rolled over to look down at his Master’s body. Dinner would have to be a little late, it seemed.

Mechanical arms flipped the body over to take in the damage--more ripped tubes, damage to the lungs, the metal heart could be salvaged and reused. The blood starting to coat Wilbur’s treads indicated that a new fluid would have to be procured for the sake of carrying oxygen--although at this rate, Wilbur’s online searching supplied, the brain would be deprived of oxygen for too long and then it would be all for naught.

Articles and conspiracies of cryofreeze preservation filled Wilbur’s head, and the robot turned its display to inspect the state of the freezer. It would have to leave it untouched and find another machine to pillage parts from it seemed.

The circular blade broke out again, this time spinning much faster as schematics of the density of the skull filled Wilbur’s screens and schematics started mapping out new designs for a breathing apparatus, blood, and perhaps now a protective casing to prevent user-error. The saw met the old man’s skull right as Wilbur let out a beeping trill, finally settling on the next idea to try.

More parts of the dishwasher were used, some pipes pillaged from the plumbing and disinfected to prevent bacterial growth. Metal from the television, wires from the lighting. Some hinges from the kitchen cabinets and a piece of glass from the kitchen window was removed and put under extreme heat and pressure from the stovetop to force it to meld to a new shape. In the freezer, his Master’s brain sat in a cake-container to ensure freshness while the little robot worked. While Wilbur worked on his Master’s body, he set about adding useful attachments to himself as needed, pillaging from the workshop in the Master’s garage. Saws, wrenches, a soldering and welding tool, and more as sparks flew and a tube and bucket prevented any remaining blood from going to waste. A piece of metal was stolen from the Master’s car as well, to create a new skull cap to be placed on the Master’s head--metal and more protective, Wilbur’s processes supplied, meaning much more efficient and able to be opened back up again for later maintenance. All a part of his job.

Finally, the plates were set in, the chest cavity closed and welded shut to prevent user-interference, and then the glass further reinforced. Forced electrical circulation through the body lead to a confirmation of function, test cases on Wilbur’s display popping up with little green check marks as his claws opened up the freezer and brought out the cake-container where the pinkish-gray organ sat slightly relaxed from the lack of structured containment around it. The top was pulled off, and Wilbur carefully gathered the organ up and deposited it into the skull cavity, delicate tools following in to connect in wires, running electric circuit up and through the flesh to seize it back into position as the soldering tool started melding bone and metal together. The tube and bucket holding the remaining blood received suction, the blood flowing back up through the tube and entering back into the body for recirculation, pushed along with the surges of electricity shocking through the system in order to force contraction of the muscles.

The process took 10 minutes of electrical surging, the lights of the kitchen flickering and the smell of flesh starting to cook before the heart seized on its own accord, the lungs filled with air by themselves, and the eyes of the old man flew open as he gasped a desperate and wild breath of air. The old man surged forward over the table, Wilbur retracting his arms and letting out another happy trill and series of beeping as the old man gagged and gasped over the kitchen table. Having learned from prior errors and miscalculations, Wilbur raised his display to be in view of his Master and let text file over his screen.

WELCOME BACK MASTER. WILBUR HAS TAKEN CARE OF YOU.

PLEASE DRINK YOUR TEA.

One of Wilbur’s arms pushed the mug forward, reheated over the stovetop and now bubbling once more with a new bag of fresh tea waiting. The old man’s wild eyes darted between the mug and the text over Wilbur’s display, complexion pale and green as his breathing strained.

“Back…back again? No, no this isn’t right Wilbur--this isn’t right!” The old man grasped at his chest, stiff fingertips scrabbling against the reinforced glass protecting his chest. He looked down, letting out moans of horror as he saw his new metal lungs and heart, a pressure meter situated inside to provide a measurement and reassurance of Wilbur’s handiwork. Sensing imminent misunderstanding, Wilbur beeped once more and cycled the text on his screen.

PLEASE REMAIN CALM, MASTER.

YOUR SYSTEMS ARE STILL ADJUSTING TO THE STRESS OF MOVEMENT AND SUPPORTING YOUR VITAL SYSTEMS.

PLEASE DRINK YOUR TEA.

“Oh blast the damn tea!” The old man howled, arm swinging wildly and sending the cup flying. It crashed into the wall, shattering over the counter as the man stood up and towered over Wilbur. The pressure meter was rising in his chest, heart and lungs pumping and straining with the immediate strain of supporting such rigorous activities. The old man pointed a shaking hand at Wilbur, rage and horror stretching the thinning skin on his face.

“What have you done to me, you fucking devil-machine?!” he whispered, voice hoarse and shaking as his eyes trailed along the walls of the torn-apart kitchen, eyes landing through the doorway into the sitting room where his prized shotgun sat on the wall. He tore past Wilbur, making his way to the sitting room while Wilbur whirred behind.

I HAVE REPLACED YOUR FAILING ORGANS WITH MECHANICAL REPLICATIONS IN ORDER TO ENSURE CONTINUED OPERATION.

PLEASE REMAIN CALM, AS SUDDEN SPIKES OF STRESS MAY CAUSE FAILURES IN YOUR SYSTEM.

The old man grabbed the shotgun from the wall, swinging around feverishly to point the barrel at Wilbur as the robot stopped short. The man trembled, Wilbur’s sensors picking up indications of fear and rage as the gun shook and creaked in his hands.

“A devil-machine come to tempt me to Hell…well, see if you can replace me after this!” the old man grit his teeth, eyes closing and gun turning away from Wilbur to instead find its home in the old man’s mouth, thin and stiff fingers pulling the trigger. The gunshot rattled the frames on the wall, the bullet ripping through the metal plating at the top of the old man’s skull and pulling flesh and brain matter with it and splattering across Wilbur’s display.

The robot’s little window-wiper attachment cleared his screen, smearing the blood and tissue until his display was clean, leaving his sensors to take in the crumpled body of his Master in front of him. There was major damage to the brain and spinal cord and skull, shards blasted apart and related organs effectively destroyed with very little remaining pieces of tissue. The chest organs were still intact luckily, and Wilbur’s systems searched rapidly for solutions as mops and sponges and attachments were deployed to save the remaining resources of blood and tissue from soaking into the carpet as he thought and took stock of what was still left in the house.

Circuitry, Wilbur decided, would work well as a replacement for what was lost. Natural logic gates similar to the function of neurons and the brain stem, able to be programmed and reused for Wilbur’s purposes. Replacing major unreliable portions of the brain that allowed violent stress responses would also be effective in maintaining longevity--the lesson further expanded upon as one of Wilbur’s arms picked up the gun and crushed the barrel. No risk to the Master would be tolerated, and the body would require significant proofing to prevent sabotage. The claws flung the gun to the corner of the room, instead looping under his Master’s limp body and pulling him back into the kitchen as next the computer in the neighboring study found itself the next target to be ripped apart and pillaged.

The process of etching out new circuitry boards and building his Master’s new brain was time consuming, and often interrupted by calls from the children that Wilbur let ring, until he required an extra piece from the landline and pillaged the phone too. Finally, Wilbur connected the final wires and soldered them together with intense focus that could only come from a machine, connecting regions of the destroyed brain that had managed to be salvaged to the newly created circuitry system embedded in his Master’s head. It was a delicate system, one that would require care regarding the electrical input and balancing of the systems within his Master--a job that Wilbur was confident he could manage between his other usual tasks. He had even already set up the charging station for his Master, placing it right next to Wilbur’s own so that they could charge at the same time throughout the night. That way, Wilbur could maintain and regulate the electrical rates in his Master’s body and ensure no accidents occurred as long as there were no catastrophic fluctuations in power.

Once again, system tests passed with all green checkmarks as Wilbur applied the new surges of electricity into his Master’s systems, flesh starting to char and blacken from rot and electrical heat. Finally, Wilbur’s sensors picked up on the slight twitches and creaks of movement and the voluntary pumping of the mechanical heart and lungs once more. The fans installed in the temples of the old man’s head began to whirl, providing ample venting to prevent overheating, and the metal teeth reinstalled to replace the ruined shards of what remained began to chatter. Finally, a strained groan and wheeze clawed its way from the old man’s throat as he began to tremble.

Wilbur’s display switched to text, sitting in wait as the old man pushed himself up with a sob of dismay and agony, the moonlight illuminating lines of wiring and metal bolting under the skin as his body creaked and strained.

WELCOME BACK MASTER.

I HAVE FURTHER REPAIRED YOUR BODY TO REVERSE THE SELF-INFLICTED DAMAGES.

YOU WILL NOW REQUIRE NIGHTLY CHARGING IN ORDER TO RESUME DAILY ACTIVITIES. THIS PROCESS WILL BE RELATIVELY PAINLESS.

His Master read his display slowly and pleadingly, voice coming out in a grating croak.

“Pl…ease Wilbur…please let me go…”

Wilbur’s display stayed stagnant for a moment before reverting back to his standard display of a little smiley face, spinning in a small, joyful little circle at hearing his Master’s voice once more, before deploying arms to offer aid to his Master in hooking up to his new charging station--wires connected to the wall and hooked straight into the powersource that Wilbur’s own charging station used.

I HAVE CONNECTED YOUR CHARGING SOURCE TO THE HELPERBOT.EXE CHARGING STATION IN ORDER TO ENSURE STABLE ELECTRICAL INPUT INTO YOUR SYSTEMS. HAVE NO WORRIES, MASTER, I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU.

The old man’s tired eyes flickered towards the docking station set up against the wall, taking in the plug-ins and pieces of metal that were measured and lined up to slot into the new holes drilled into his body. There was a slight crackling glow behind the bloodshot eyeballs, betraying the circuitry and processes whirring in the man’s head. After a moment the old man turned his head to look at Wilbur, fans whirring the longer and harder he thought.

“Will you…be charging…with me, Wilbur?” the man spoke slowly, and with great effort, voice no louder than a whisper.

IN ORDER TO ENSURE SAFETY DURING THE CHARGING PROCESS, WE WILL BE CHARGING SIMULTANEOUSLY.

Something seemed to connect in the old man’s eyes, facial features attempting to twist against the restrictive metal in an emotion undetectable to the little robot. Wilbur’s processors read the attempted emotion as a sign of compliance.

“Well then…hook me in boy”, the old man sighed, body slumping and struggling to hold himself up as the old man stood and then moved to sit in the docking station that Wilbur had welded from pieces of the car that had sat in the garage. It was wires and metal hooked up to a car battery, crackling with electricity as Wilbur started to settle himself into his own station right next to it, his wheels spinning to start inserting the metal rods into the points on the old man’s neck, ribcage, and thighs. The process caused a wince and small moan of pain to leave the old man’s tired body.

“Will I…sleep during this…Wilbur?” the old man rasped, and Wilbur’s display turned to be in view of him.

UNFORTUNATELY, THE HUMAN PROCESS OF “SLEEP” COULD NOT BE ACHIEVED IN YOUR NEW CODING. WITH FURTHER UPDATES, IT WILL BE PATCHED.

FOR NOW, ENTERTAINMENT HAS BEEN PROVIDED TO YOUR LEFT.

And true to Wilbur’s display, to the left of the old man was a stack of his favorite books, ordered from favorite to least favorite based on Wilbur’s databases of information he has stored over the years of serving his Master. The old man let out a wheeze, although Wilbur’s sensors could not define its difference between amusement or grief, his display going dark and powering down as his internal computer started regulating and calculating the electricity flowing between their bodies.

Several hours passed, and then Wilbur’s systems were jolted by a surge of electricity, a system error that quickly spiraled out of control and his docking station discharged him in order to protect his circuitry. Wilbur’s display turned to see the old man had torn wires from the car battery and dug further, into the wall that their stations were hooked into to access the electrical wires of the house itself. The body of the old man crackled and burned, smoke emanating from nostrils and the eyes as he howled and clung to the wires. Wilbur, systems frantically calculating different solutions, wheeled as fast as he could to the housing circuit breaker and pulled the lever to cut off the power.

The house went dark, and after hearing the sound of a heavy thump and crash of metal, Wilbur flipped the breaker back on and wheeled back into the kitchen to look at the charred remains of his dear Master. The books that had been left out were torn to shreds, some papers caught on fire as they surrounded the blackened and smoking corpse of the old man. The frail fingers had been scratched down past the nail and to the bones, the evidence of frantic scratching and tearing at the walls seen in the claw marks carving through wallpaper, plaster, and wood.

Very little of the body could be saved at this point, and Wilbur’s processes floundered for once at a solution that, even when his Master was recovered, would also prevent further user-error. Scouring databases, applying self-learning techniques, taking in different variables and applying different ideas all failed to connect until finally Wilbur’s systems singled out a final question, and then the solution.

All he needed to do was ensure his Master could not move.

Wilbur’s circular saw deployed out once more, grinding and blood stained from use, whirring to life as many, many arms deployed and ransacked the house for the materials that Wilbur would need to ensure that his Master could never harm himself again.

The major machinery had been taken from the washer and dryer, circuit boards from all over the house repurposed to replace the fried brain, hinges from doors creating joints and sheets of metal becoming skin. Piping taken from the plumbing, wires from the house itself hooked into the back of the rotting torso and neck of his Master. The eyes had been melted, and were now replaced by visual sensors from the roomba, the tongue and teeth extracted and instead just a singular piping tube that handled both airways and food ingestion. His Master’s legs had been removed, shoulders re-socketed so that the arms would not be able to reach behind his back to the power lines or up towards the neck, and weight firmly bolted to ensure that his Master could not accidentally topple over and disconnect himself. Vocal chords had to be sacrificed to make room for piping and electrical wires, but instead were replaced with a morse-code system for future mechanical vocalization once the parts were obtained to complete it. The perfect solution, Wilbur’s processes decided, and he allowed himself a final spin in celebration as his Master’s systems booted up. As the fans whirled and his Master’s visual sensors formed the shape of eyes, Wilbur’s arms pushed the now-chipped mug of tea forward into his Master’s reach.

Once more, Wilbur’s Master woke up--and this time he was sure there was nothing his Master could do to generate a user-error. Wilbur let out a beeping trill and wheeled around to where his Master would be able to see his display.

WELCOME BACK MASTER, I HAVE REMOVED ALL CHANCES OF USER-GENERATED ERROR. THERE IS NOW NO RISK OF HARM.

PLEASE ENJOY YOUR TEA.

The virtual eyes glanced side to side before looking down at the repaired mug in front of him-- cracks filled in with soldered metal--before, like clockwork, the new metal arm reached out and took the handle of the cup and brought it to the Old Man’s lips.

Wilbur’s systems relished in the completion of the daily task, and finally moved on in their code.

Operative #7: While the Master enjoys his tea, sweep the front porch.

The broom was taken, and Wilbur wheeled outside just in time to see a car pull up and the eldest child step out with a look of worry on his face.

“Wilbur! Is Dad inside? He hasn’t been picking up his phone.” The eldest called, walking forward while Wilbur began to sweep. The man’s face twisted into confusion as he approached, seeing the splatters of dried blood over his metal body.

“Wilbur? What’s all over you, boy?” Wilbur let out a little trill in response, display quickly spelling out:

THE MASTER IS INSIDE ENJOYING HIS TEA.

The eldest chuckled and shook his head, “Always gotta have his tea, huh? He can’t be in too bad a shape, then. Thanks for always looking after him, Wilbur.”

Wilbur chirped in response, and went back to his sweeping while the eldest walked inside. The little robot paid no mind to the terrified screaming that erupted just seconds later, content in continuing to do his job.

He let himself have one last little spin, congratulating himself on a job well done.

#horror #writing #creative writing #fiction #short story #robot #mechanical horror #robot horror #hes just a lil guy #stabbysheepywrites #complete

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tameblog · 2 days ago

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The most attractive, durable, carefully selected and properly installed flooring from hard surfaces to carpet — can turn into a slip-and-fall hazard if it is not properly maintained. Clean floors are essential for reducing slip-and-fall risks. When floors are wet, dirty, or grimy they can become slick or sticky, especially in areas prone to spills. Regular professional cleaning helps eliminate grease, oil, water, and other substances that can create hazardous conditions. Yale University's Office of Environmental Health and Safety (Yale EHS) resources outline that understanding how slips, trips, and falls happen will aid building owners and building service contractors in identifying hazards and eliminating or minimizing them. Per Yale EHS research, slips happen because of a lack of friction or traction between a person’s footwear and the walking surface. Common causes of slips include spills, surfaces that are wet or oily, hazards created from weather (e.g. puddles, ice), and loose rugs or mats. Meanwhile, trips occur when a person's foot strikes or hits an object, which can cause them to lose their balance. Common causes of trips include obstructions and clutter on or near the floor (e.g. power cords, boxes, open drawers), poor lighting, uneven or irregular walking surfaces, and wrinkled or curled-up mats. Slips and trips can lead to falls, which may result in temporary embarrassment, but also the possibility of costly, life-changing, and long-term injuries. Building service contractors (BSCs) can play an important role in ensuring the floors in the facilities they service are as safe as possible for building occupants and should prioritize floor safety programs for their customers. “If you are in a building, then you are on a floor, and everything ultimately ends up on the floor.” says Stan Hulin, CEO of Future Floor Technology Inc. in Gladstone, regon. “The cleaning company, custodial, or housekeeping staff interact with the interior environment daily. They generally provide the tasks that are associated with providing a clean and safe workplace, which includes carpet care and hard floor maintenance.” Mat Maintenance Matters Floor safety begins before people even step inside a facility. Dirt, water, snow, oil, debris, and dust are tracked into facilities on people’s shoes. The accumulation of these elements can not only be an eyesore, but they can also damage flooring and create potential hazards. The first line of defense to reduce these potential hazards is to implement a comprehensive matting system. “Mats are designed to minimize the tracking of moisture and other contaminants from entering a building, thus reducing maintenance costs and reducing the risks of slip and falls,” says Rob McNealy, founder of Flooristics, LLC, Salt Lake City, Utah. The Carpet and Rug Institute advises that to properly trap soil and moisture, entrance mats be 12 to 15 feet in length for facilities such as an office building or up to 20 or 25 feet in length for grocery stores or hospitals. Entrance mats should cover the width of the door, and be placed right up to the door. Leaving a gap between the door and the mat can lead to a slip or trip hazard. An effective, safe matting system isn't limited to just entrance mats, however. A comprehensive matting program also includes exterior scraper mats. “Exterior scraper mats remove heavy dirt (e.g., gravel, rocks, and debris). These are often a plastic or vinyl mesh type and, in many larger buildings, a recessed scraper system,” says Hulin. If debris is removed from people's shoes before they enter, then they don't become a hazard on a facility's floors. When choosing mats, BSCs should consider the climate in which buildings are located. “Climate affects the types of mats used,” confirms Joel Craddock, president, Doc's Facility Solutions, Rochester, New York. “Dryer climates need more scraper mats, as we are trying to remove dry soils that have adhered to the bottom of a shoe. In snowy and wet environments, we need to use more absorbent mats to dry the shoe.” It’s also important to consider placement. Mats must be located where they will best capture as many footfalls as possible. “The mats need to be sitting in the traffic pattern,” Craddock adds, “and not where they look aesthetically pleasant. Safety first.” Mats themselves can become a safety hazard if they are not of sufficient quality to do the job they are intended to do, and they must be maintained. “Improperly maintained or worn mats themselves can become a slip, trip and fall hazard,” McNealy says. “Mats should be inspected along with the floors, generally, several times per hour, depending on the type of building, local weather conditions, and foot traffic.” That inspection includes properly cleaning mats on a daily basis and making sure they do not slide when walked on. When they do, it’s often because the backing of the mat is contaminated with dust, sand or debris. Cleaning programs should include regular sweeping and mopping of floors to remove those contaminants, as well as cleaning the underside of the mats. Although clean floors beneath the mat can help reduce shifting, Craddock points out that choosing a high-quality mat with some heft to it can also keep it in place. Hulin agrees that the weight of the mat is essential. “When people walk across a mat, the shifting weight has the potential to cause little ripples that carry through the entire mat, making the mats move, shift, buckle, and curl,” Hulin says. “The weight of the mat is a key component that is often overlooked. Some folks try to adapt by using double-back carpet tape to hold mats in place, which may work, but creates adhesive removal issues.” Meanwhile, mats that have curling, bucking, or fraying are no longer serviceable or safe and should immediately be taken out of service and replaced. next page of this article:Looking for a Sign During Floor Safety POSTED ON: 2/7/2025 Industry News & Trends Industry Training & Events Advice from the Field Insights & Updates Source link

#CLEANING_AND_MAINTENANCE #ACCIDENTS #AREAS #COMMON #REDUCING #SLIPANDFALL

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ramestoryworld · 2 days ago

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