#h.a.s.s

[lyrate-lifeform-approximation]

⚠

With a gesture of her hand, LYLA finds her form just about hovering in Bridge's palm. Though the hologram was unable to be touched physically, the 'idea' that Bridge was attempting to carry her was conveyed decently enough.

"Hello."

Exclaimed the automaton, her face looming in a bit closer to greet the other AI.

A giggle comes to LYLA's lips, her face bright. "Hey Bridge!" She 'sits' in Bridge's palm, her hands reaching out to 'touch' Bridge's cheek, "How are you?"

[purple-venus-70]

Woah...cool android...

@asciiid 's supremely cool spidersona, H.A.S.S. with a bonus Armadeira going stupid in the corner because COOL ROBOT

[nan0-sp1der]

sits on your dash like this

[nan0-sp1der]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 ?

𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦. you give and give. you are a gentle heart, broken but still standing... always lending a hand for those who need it, expecting nothing in return. you deserve someone taking your hand and kissing your open palm, the hands which have selflessly helped so many others. { thieved from @templeofvengeance & @spiderman2-99 } { tags; @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @ghostly-sunflower , @whosmoraless , @noir-spider-noir , @spiderpunkofficial , @pavitr-prabhakar-50101 , you. }

[nan0-sp1der]

Bridge gently makes her way past Miguel as he goes about detaching Kari from himself and placing them somewhere else, placing her sights on the aforementioned hazard box with all sorts of... Malicious little trinkets in it. Molotovs, glitterbombs, other things that she was honestly mildly impressed with. The lengths people will go to cause an inconvenience of any sort.

She proceeds to--with as much precision as her machinery could muster--remove items one-by-one, trapping them in their own psionic bubbles of some sort and levitating them out of reach. You know, just in case anyone decides to get ant funny ideas and tries to snag one. Until, at the very bottom, she spots a jar. It is, indeed, the jar the man in white was looking for.

This, too, is removed from the Pandora's Box of Varying Inconvenience, whereas she returns the rest to their place within it. The jar makes it's way over to the stranger, the protective force field dissolving as it reaches his hands.

"I believe that should be the item you seek, yes?"

Ooc: Sorryyy it's a little long of a descriptionnn hope you guy have fun doing this!! The party has started!

@spiderman2-99's office is a spacious room that could be incredibly cozy with the right ambiance and decor—but that’s not something The Miguel O’Hara would do. So, of course, others had to intervene.

It was late evening, a handmade banner with "slumber party!!!" was put up, some confetti was here and there. Lyla was hovering at the top, near the banner, she was a little messed with, her communication system just a little lagging, but her program was too advanced to have been properly hacked by these amateurs, so by her grin she was probably going with it of her own volition. The monitors had been hacked to blink with soft, multicolored stars across the ceiling, casting a glow perfect for relaxation— just that there was nothing quite calm happening. It looked overall chaotic, and fun.

@spider-lily929 had been here earlier but left for something. Miguel (the bigger, more fun one, @itsmiguel2099) was here, and @spiderpunkofficial had just walked in, balancing several pizza boxes in a way that defied physics. To the right, @tinidor-theodore and @spider--queer were deep in conversation. Next to them was a pile of pastel-colored pillows with a few plushies on top.

On the massive work table, now cleared of all of Miguel's thingamajigs, a large checkered tablecloth was spread out. It was packed with unlabeled syrups, glasses, mugs, juices, fizzy drinks—even a random gallon of milk. For snacks, there was an enormous bowl of popcorn that was somehow already half-empty, and a platter of chopped fruit that no one seemed interested in. Kari had just set down a bowl of gulab jamun and… spicy chicken nuggets? He looked doubtful, wondering if anyone would actually eat them. Someone had tried to label allergens on the table and gave up; the only labels read, “Apple juice, contains apples,” “Milk, contains gluten lactose,” and “I think this is chocolate syrup.”

Kari lit up when he saw Spiderpunk’s pizza haul. He grabbed a whole box and a drink from the table, stuffing down two slices while scurrying across the room. He accidentally bumped into @green-goblin-59 on the way.

“Oh, sorry! Pizza?” he offered, handing over the box after taking two more slices. He got absorbed in the movie playing on the big screen—something he didn’t recognize, didn't they call it Blade runner?—for a moment before remembering he had something to do. He almost tripped over a large box labeled “HAZARD BOX,” covered with sticky notes like, “Maybe bring Molotov mocktails next time, lol,” and “I am NOT cleaning up a glitter bomb, so whoever brought it has to deal with it if it ever goes off.”

Finally, Kari reached River @hotgaybitch.

“Hey, didn't you or Theodore invite @crybaby-spider?” he mumbled, sipping his concoction of fruit juices through a purple straw.

Btw dividers credit

[nan0-sp1der]

The stars sing to me.

[nan0-sp1der]

17:15:45 UTC, Greenland, E-928. A small impact had just erupted in the snowy fields several seconds ago, creating a streak of scarlet in the setting sky. While the impact does not leave a crater, what is left is a clearly disoriented individual who is now stumbling through the landscape. After meandering a few feet away from the steaming hole in the snow, they stop to finally try and get their bearings.

“... Re-entry… Successful. Commencing return to…”

She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence as she inexplicably finds herself landing face-first in the snow. The sheer heat still radiating off her body makes the snow boil and evaporate beneath and around her, the temperatures she reached when falling through the atmosphere at Mach-Jesus being high enough to turn any normal human into beef jerky.

And, frankly, it just about nearly fried her, too.  Even though she did account for this by landing in as cold an area as possible while still being close enough to H.Q. that she could be recovered God forbid, it was going to take some time for her internal hardware to cool down enough to be decently functional.

For now, she just lay in the snow like an overcooked vegetable, blanching in the snow.

She just needs to rest for a bit. Just a little while...

She'll be fine. When she can move her limbs, again, anyways.

[nan0-sp1der]

I have a bit of a dilemma.

I seem to have recently acquired a companion of sorts on a recent mission to a particularly winter-y area, and... Well...

I have named him Columba, after a constellation just south of Canis Major and Lepus. I have already fitted them with their own device to stabilize their atomic resonance and avoid any upsets.

Debating whether or not I will devise a translator of sorts for Columba, unsure how much chaos that would create. We will see...

[nan0-sp1der]

I believe that is due to a universal concept known as the "Rule of Cool". If it's cool, it simply defies all reason. Something unique to Hobie's sense of style, I would imagine.

Ever pranked Hobie back??

-🤖

gah, ive tried but he’s so good at avoiding it. the only time i got him “back” was when i took his denim and swapped it for a construction worker jacket, but that didnt even count cause he rocked that look as well!

[nan0-sp1der]

> H.A.S.S._INFO

Greetings. It seems you have found my internet blog, or 'Tumblr', as one would call it. Here you will find some basic information about myself, as seen below. Do read through it at your leisure or at your convenience.

> NAME: " BRIDGE ", HUMANOID ANDROID SURVEYOR SYSTEM, NAN0-SPIDER, "BB"

> ACTIVATION DATE: DECEMBER 24TH, 3048, 4:00:35 UTC

> WEIGHT: 95 LBS / 43.09 KG

> HEIGHT: 5 FT 8 IN / 172.72 CM

> SPECIES: ANDROID, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, " SPIDER-PERSON ", " THING "

> LOCATION: EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE

> MBTI: ENTJ-A

> ADD. DOCUMENTATION 🔗

> AUDIO RECORD 🔗 [MISSING ENTRIES]

> VISUAL REFERENCE:

> CONNECTIONS

> Boss - @spiderman2-99

> Allies - @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @glowing-arachnid , @kari-araneaai , @noir-spider-noir , @peterbsideparker , @spiderbite-from-0202 , @ghostly-sunflower , @itsmiguel2099 [INCOMPLETE DATA SET]

> Enemies - Deimos

> DIRECTORY

// post tags

> .IMG - reposted images

> .TXT - reposted textposts

> .LOG - IC blog posts

> Active Processes - physical interaction posts

> H.A.S.S./nano spider - general IC posts and muse tag

> { mun's art } - you get it

> { mun's writing } - self-explanatory

> { ask the mun/muse } - the ask game tag

> { OOC } - mun posting

> { Patch Notes } - small but relevant updates to the blog and other yammering from mun about the blog that is supposedly relevant like seriously who cares?

> { a blip on your dash } - queued posts

> MUN_INFO/RULES

Mun/Admin: misnomer/misno/'mis', she/they/them--nonbinary preferred

lives in the EST timezone

Other Blogs: @asciiid, @ a secret third thing

{ OOC looks like this by the way. This is mun, hi. A lot of Bridge's blog posts might have this weird formatting, but more often than not it'll just look like a normal post without the additional formatting and whatnot. If this lowers readability for anyone, do let me know asap so I can use a more readable method. }

{ here's some basic guidelines for interacting with the muse or myself }

18+ content is permitted, but smut is a no-go. Gore and violence are ok (I'll include a CW out of courtesy ofc).

Haven't really (openly) dived into shipping the muse yet, but if you're considering, hit me up with a DM and we'll discuss things further for the sake of cohesion. Please, please ask me first.

My activity is a bit scattered. if im slow on the pick-up, im either: burnt-out, busy, still trying to figure out how to reply, or with my head deep in a project of some sort. it's never going to be personal.

If I ever forget about a thread, hit me up! I have the memory of a goldfish (/j) and tend to forget most things with ease. Just remind me.

Asks directed at mun are ok! just be mindful and specify who the ask is for. :)

It's self-explanatory that if you come to cause (genuine) trouble, you're not going to receive a warm welcome. think before you speak.

Kind-of a personal rq but if you're ever curious about oc lore or wanna interact to explore it a bit more, I'll happily oblige! This character has been a passion project for about three years now, so I have plenty to share--both tangible and in the form of thoughts that have yet to see paper... oops.

Random starters to my ask box or tagged are ok! Mind the brief period of inactivity as I formulate a reply.

Wanna do an art or writing collab of some sort? Hit me up at @asciiid! Alternatively, DM me here and we'll discuss there.

Thanks for reading, and see you somewhere out there in the rpc. (^^)

[nan0-sp1der]

*slides out from behind stairs after being sebt to their dimesion*Are you an ally? Can I trust you- oh. I must be in the wrong dimension.*puts away knife and holds out hand for a handshake* im spider bomb. Nice to meetcha.

Bridge picks up on Spider Bomb's presence as she strafes out from under that stairwell, their footfalls and movement being the first and second things picked up by Bridge's sensors, the weapon in their hand being caught in their sights immediately. She whips herself around to face the stranger, initially preparing to disarm them, the target indicator in her iris glowing alight. Though, they just as soon put the knife away, so she drops her stance immediately when she is met with an outstretched hand instead. After some hesitation, Bridge returns their gesture with a firm shake in return.

"... Greetings."

Her ocular readings tell her this was an anomaly. Luckily, they were nowhere near H.Q., so there was going to be a generous delay before Lyla would tip Miguel off to their presence. But they're still in E-928. At the very least, she'll be able to bring them in peacefully. She should introduce herself to the newcomer.

"I am Nano-Spider. 1-of-1 Daedalus manufactured Humanoid Android Surveyor System. You..."

She looked the newcomer up and down.

"You are lost."

[nan0-sp1der]

"I know how big words are!!"

"Do you, now?"

A vague streak of... Was that amusement? Crossed the android's face as an old friend of hers, Fable, defensively exclaimed an attestment to their own intelligence. Of course, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to put that intellect to the test.

"Pray tell, what is the biggest word you know?"

[nan0-sp1der]

The open door ushers Bridge in, and she just as soon takes notice that Kyoki was in full uniform, save for the mask. Concerning, that the woman was putting herself in further danger when she was already very likely hindered by her ailment. The last thing she needed now was to go out there and throw herself into danger when she barely had her head on straight enough to send a coherent text.

Nevermind how her body temperature read in Bridge's thermal sensors. She was undoubtedly running a fever, and yet she was pushing herself to continue her patrols like it was nothing. Gingerly, she placed the still warm container of soup down on the kitchen counter before wandering back out to try and stall a bit for time. Maybe she can get her to stay and rest a while.

"Going somewhere?"

" You [sent] me a long and incoherent text that held about 90% of the emoji list and about four different languages. [I] figured it wouldn't hurt to drop by and see how you were doing. "

Bridge already had a container of wonton soup from the best Chinese place she knew in-hand, with extra lemon added at her request. She was ready to play nurse for the day and nobody was going to stop her.

Kyoki groaned, really not wanting to be 'mommed', but she knew there was no stopping Bridge when she had her mind set to something, so she opened the door all the way to let the elder spider in. “I don't even know four languages, how the hell did I manage that?” She sat down on her bed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. There was no time for her to be sick, and judging by the fact that she was in her Spider-Suit sans the mask, she'd been getting ready to head out when Bridge showed up.

[nan0-sp1der]

"You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God."

'A vibe check from God' may have been the best way to describe brushing hands with Death himself, but the fact that it was in such poor taste made her bristle. To see someone so young go and treat their own life as cannon fodder--with this instance not even being the first--gave her something of a vicious headache. Who knew machines could even get headaches?

"It is still incredibly reckless, Morales. You should know better than to tempt fate in such a manner."

It was incidents like this that tested her temperance. Other people--human beings with everything to lose--don't get to dive head-first into danger like she does, like she can. They simply weren't built that way.

[nan0-sp1der]

💔

CW: depictions of gore, religious imagery, and mature language

It was the last thing she could have anticipated happening. How, in this vast emptiness, was she receiving a distress call from the bunker? How could such a thing even be possible when they were all supposedly in a deep cryogenic sleep, unable to consciously bring themselves to any of the consoles to execute the code? Most importantly, why was this signal being sent out at all?

Not a second was spent speculating as she traveled as fast and as far as her legs would take her, the sand beneath her being kicked up behind her as a split in the desert was formed in her wake. Driven by fear, by the uncertainty of what she would find, she traveled at inhuman speeds to reach her destination: A twisted behemoth of steel that was at one point the doors to the subterranean bunker’s lift. She need not open the double doors as a massive hole was bored between them like the exit wound of a shotgun blast, which meant she only needed to walk into that gash to find the lift was still at the bottom of the shaft. Which meant

Someone… Someone was here. It can’t be, not–

She throws herself into the abyss, landing at the bottom with a harsh clank as her metal hooves and her one knee caught the fall, only denting the elevator pad more than it already had been before. Dust kicks up from the impact and obscures her vision briefly. Oh, how she wished she could have stayed blinded by that obfuscation. Truly, she wished she didn’t recognize the shapes lying on the ground after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, lying in puddles of scarlet and copper. Freshly spilled. She needn’t perform optical scans on any of them. It was made obvious by their lack of movement that they were recently deceased.

Her first instinct is to scream. Bellow into the empty corridor stretching out before her and to whatever force had carried out this blatant act of violence. It would achieve nothing in the end. So she pressed onward.

54 bodies. As she navigated through the halls of the underground facility, taking in the crude work that had been made of her fellow researchers, she counted a total of 54 bodies, most especially including the ones whose remains were made indistinguishable from scraps of meat one would discard from a beef cut. There was one more. One of them was missing. Who, who was missing? She could name all but one body, the samples she took of the carcasses allowing her to give names to all victims but one. Even without having a stomach, she thought she felt it drop as she knelt over one of the more in-tact bodies.

“... No. No, no, no, why…?”

Her footing comes to a halt at the edge of the garden’s tattered lawn.

She lifts her gaze to one last corridor. It was at the very back of the facility. Far removed from everything else in that building was one garden pavilion which was now shrouded in pitch black like the rest of the area. She felt the coolant pump in her chest lurch. Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet once more to meander over to the beginning of that hall. She remembers this hall. Pure white, shrouded in the glow of fluorescent tubing and granting entry to that luscious greenery that she grew to know so well. No longer did she see that greenery in her vision as she stared into the room. All she saw now was rubble. And, she thinks she sees something else. Someone else.

Her faulty footing guided her down that corridor, stumbling, every joint in her metal frame nearly rattled as she forced herself to push forwards to find whatever lay at the end. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to know. She couldn’t accept what she knew was true, and yet she knew that she had no choice but to bear witness to the reality she helped give life to out of sheer negligence and her inability to enforce the same cruelty that was bestowed upon the only remnants of humanity that were left, that she was supposed to help thrive and advance.

By God, she couldn’t bring herself to describe what she saw. No living being should have to comprehend what she did. But, she did. Her savior lain out on a cross of iron that was ripped from the very walls of this room, leaving a great ravine where there was once a roof. Now there was only the surface above and its light that it cast down from it. The only tether she had to her sense of humanity was slain and hung to bleed herself dry on some tastelessly forged cross.

Cattle on a meat rack.

A joke.

A fucking joke.

Where the head of the body was, she didn’t know, but without investigating further she already knew who this was, as her wireframe glasses were left twisted to shit on the floor, one of the lenses shattered and tinged with ichor. Gabrielle. The final victim.

There wasn’t a single thought that ran through Bridge’s mind as she stared upon the monument of one of her greatest failures. It was a blaring silence. As loud as those sirens that rang in her head when she first received warning of what had unfolded here, the silence droned. In that silence something awful brewed. An emotion she never thought possible to manifest on her conscience, but found its way to her in her moment of weakness. Blinding, grating, overheating the circuit boards in her cranium.

White hot rage.

She has failed at the only thing she was meant to do. What she was made for.

Even though she was being drawn to that great hole in the ceiling to chase after the one who brought ruin to this place, she still found it in herself to pick up the damaged glasses from the floor. It was pointless, a meaningless gesture that would only serve as an object to tie to the memory. Though she realized that before she corrected her error, she would need to cement it in reality first. This was proof. Proof that she had failed. And she was taking it with her and existing in that reality whether she liked it or not.

It was time she shared the blame.

[drawingdullahan]

It's high time I drew the gorl

Another attempt at painting ofc