#like the sludge you get out of AI images

[guarddog-of-proendos]

Image descriptions

- written by a visually impaired person

What is an image description?

an image description is exactly what it sounds like, a block of text describing the content of an image. this is important for many people but especially for blind and visually impaired people who cannot see the image (at least, not well enough to understand what's going on)

(people also cite that this helps people with slow internet, if you add that to this post I am hitting you on the head with a stick. our access to the internet is enough of a reason to add image descriptions, they don't have to help abled people as well.)

image descriptions serve the purpose of providing the same access to content and context in a post that you, a sighted person, have. the goal is to allow equal access for visually disabled people and other people who struggle to access images.

have you ever been stuck scrolling through Tumblr while images are refusing to load? was that frustrating? imagine how we feel every day, all the time.

How to write an image description

writing an image description is a skill. it's okay if you aren't great at it at first. not being great at it is not an excuse to not try. I'm tired of people telling me they can't be assed to try writing an image description because it might not be perfect. I would much rather read an imperfect image description than have no image description at all.

when you're describing an image the key point is to describe what's relevant, what you look at in an image. if the image is a tweet, describe what the tweet says. if the image is a picrew of an alter, describe what that alter looks like in the picrew.

You don't need to include every detail

a lot of guides will, with well intentions, tell you to describe a lot. sometimes, describing a lot is relevant. if you're describing a piece of art or photography then describing a lot is important because the point of the photo is to appreciate all of the photo. if you're taking a selfie, I truly do not care that your walls are blank and white. sometimes, more detail is less accessible. I don't want to scroll through paragraphs up on paragraphs for a photo that sighted people can just glance at and get the gist of.

take for example, this post divider I just used:

you could describe this as: a post divider with a large star in the center surrounded by a halo of the moon phase in gold. 2 horizontal lines come from it in the center with a pattern of alternating sun, moon, sun, and star symbols.

... that's really long. the point for sighted people is to break up the text with something pretty. it's not to admire all the intricacies of the image.

a more appropriate description would be: a star themed post divider

text, on the other hand, should always be transcribed in full. do not describe your DNI banner as "a DNI banner" that tells me nothing. put down all the text, all of it, because all of the text is relevant.

never use AI to write an image description! it's insulting and often inaccurate. problems with generative AI aside, throwing an image into chatGPT and then copy and pasting the sludge it spits out makes me feel like I'm not worth taking a minute to actually write an image description. AI generated image descriptions tend to be impersonal, inaccurate, and hard to follow because it just throws up all the random details it picks up on rather than describing the point of the image. with the editing required to fix a chatGPT image description you could have written your own and it would be better.

I truly cannot write an image description

ask for help. if you have no one you can directly ask, add a note to your post asking for help writing the description when you post it. when someone writes a description for you, copy and paste it into the original post. there is no such thing as image description theft, the point is accessibility. you can't steal accessibility. copy and pasting is not just okay it's encouraged!

on other people's posts (regardless of whether or not you can write an image description) you can often find image descriptions in the notes. taking a minute to check for image descriptions before reblogging an undescribed post is something fast and kind you can do for the people who need image descriptions. often you'll find a description and then hurray! that inaccessible post is now accessible!

....but I don't have any followers who need image descriptions!

yes you do.

if you truly don't it's probably because none of them can access your blog. fix that and suddenly you will have followers who need image descriptions

why is this in the pluralgang tag? none of you describe images.

Questions are encouraged

(if you have any)

[simlicious]

Use of AI in my patterns

I've got a comment on my latest post that I want to address properly:

"Please dont use image generators. They use a lot of water and power and just. Its disrespectful to us artists who had our works scraped and thrown into the sludge maker."

Thank you @cats-n-witchcraft for voicing your concerns in a friendly and respectful way.

I've thought about this a lot and also had a long talk with a friend to dive into the topic a bit more and mull everything over. Since it is a long answer, it's under the cut! There is also a poll at the end of the text.

The use of AI-generated images is a very divisive topic with extreme opinions on both ends, some pleading against and some for the use of AI. I do not have an extreme opinion but I am somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Maybe it has to do something with my age or my personality type in that I always try to see things from different perspectives and like to find a middle ground in a lot of things. I understand both sides and think that both sides have some valid arguments pro and contra AI.

I definitely think AI use should be regulated and artist's work should be protected. But I also see merit in AI as a tool and in a way to enable creativity in people who aren't artists in the traditional sense with talent, years of practice, or formal training.

What I find horrible is people abusing AI to make fast money, image resource sites getting flooded with the stuff, people not disclosing the use of AI and just showing general scammy behavior. That's just not acceptable. I also think that AI companies have a huge responsibility to reinvest money in environmental projects to make up for the large use of resources. If this is not viable, then the whole business model should definitely be thought over.

Governments should step in and make clear rules regarding AI.

I will happily lend my signature to any ongoing petitions regarding this (feel free to link some in the comments if you have some).

I have always been a curious person and I like to try out new technologies. But I will now stop more often and think "do I need to use AI for this?" I might occasionally use it but I am by no means a power user. AI images are bad quality-wise and it takes work to make them usable or presentable and it does clash with my sense of perfectionism anyway. I only use two different AI image generators, the free Chatgpt with Dall-E 3 that comes integrated into Bing Copilot, and Photoshop's Firefly AI which Adobe claims was not trained on copyrighted materials (hopefully it's true). So far there are only a few occasions I've used them for. They include generating an avatar for a website, a few plumbob images, and a few bizarre Sims 4 caricatures because I was surprised that the AI knew the concept of Sims. I also thought that experiencing that and knowing how such images tend to look helps to spot them "in the wild" so you know what's AI and what isn't.

When I first tried AI, I was enticed by the novelty of making these unique images that I had not seen before anywhere else and was enveloped by the "wonder" of it (that has since worn off).

TBH it is super frustrating to have ideas but not to be able to execute them. I love making patterns for the Sims 3 but I really suck at making them from scratch, I tried a lot but I dislike the outcome of the majority of them and I do not seem to have the skills nor the patience to get to the level of surface pattern design skill required that would be acceptable quality for my perfectionistic brain. So figuring out this way of creating patterns without having to fear copyright strikes because I modified some assets (which is a really big thing in Germany where I live and people get made to pay a shitton of money for copyright infringement) was like a drug for my brain. It is hard to resist its satisfying pull.

I will try harder to find other ways that do not involve AI before considering AI as an option.

I'm sure lots of people try out something they are curious about and that is not really good for you, and we do not make good choices in our lives all the time. Maybe your personal questionable choice is in another department, but there are and will always be people who have different opinions and condemn our way of life in favor of another. I try to make choices that benefit the planet and environment and do not hurt people, but I am not 100% consistent, just like 99,9% of people on this planet, but I try and I care. Generally, I feel sad that we tend to accuse individuals of their behavior instead of accusing the big corporations and governments that are the real cause of the problems.

It can lower our self-esteem and make us feel inadequate because We can see so many areas in which we are not living up to someone else's standard. We have to choose our battles. Generally, I think we should not shame others for picking different battles or having different opinions. We never know the whole picture or reasons for other's opinions and behavior, especially of people we interact with online. We can engage in dialogue to foster understanding though and this is the way to go, and it is why I wrote this long wall of text. Thank you for reading my wall of text!

I want to close with a poll about what you think about the use of AI-generated images in my patterns.

Whenever I may use AI-generated assets/images in my patterns or other CCI will disclose this in the pattern download (if I know they are made by AI). In any case, I would only sporadically make use of AI!

[bunny--manders]

My lukewarm take about "AI art" is that as the very specific kind of faux photo it can generate gets easier to spot, I'm actually seeing marketers get more interested in custom illustrations by actual artists. You can really see it in book covers—I'm noticing way more beautiful illustrations on SFF books than I did just a few years ago, and big publishers seem to be taking cover design more seriously.

There are a lot of factors beyond AI going into that trend (like TikTok's rise as a book marketing platform forcing publishers to think more about the aesthetic features of their products) but just in general, marketers tend to choose art that gets attention and custom illustrations are an easy way of standing out from the AI-generated sludge.

I do think AI will stick around as a tool for replacing a certain kind of stock photo; sometimes in marketing you just need a filler image of something really specific, but if you can't find that perfect image, you're going to slap a good enough picture from Getty down instead of paying an artist hundreds of dollars and maybe having to wait weeks for an illustration. But I think the main thing "AI art" is doing right now is making audiences tired of hyper-realistic overlit portraits of smooth-skinned people with big smiles, in the same way that easy access to Canva and similar programs made audiences tired of flat cartoony vector graphics.

[smileymoth]

While I don't like AI and I actively avoid it bc its cheap, ugly, trained on people's hard work to provide a 2 second dopamine boost for unskilled individuals, I've lowkey stopped giving a fuck about the AI scares. Yes it will lose some jobs, yes it will cause copyright issues from stolen material, yes this that and those reason(s) and we should try to kill it asap bc it would be better for education, intelligence, skill building, etc.

However I've literally just stopped giving a fuck about if some website wants to data scrape my art or posts then go on fucking do it. Get your fix of mental illness & typo posting and furry art. You'll never be as special as artworks made from the heart and out of real feelings and thoughts instead of producing meaningless sludge that floods the web and takes up more data space than ever necessary. You're lame, ugly, boring, soulless and just useless. You'll never be real. <3

Nightshade/glaze overheats your devices and kills all the quality, has already been proven useless bc the machines can work around it (source: 2 coursemates), google has already sold all of our souls to the big corps of the world, even if you opt out of ai it may or may not still scrape it, because google owns it. The 40+y.o Facebook population has been sharing badly photoshopped images since 2005, so a few fake ai videos will probably not persuade them any more than a conservative newsletters clickbait title.

So make the best of it, post your art as usual, opt out of ai training, avoid ai art if you want and true love will find you in the end <3

[christophercant]

AI doesn’t have to be the enemy: Future-Proofing your Art Career Part 3

AI art, very appropriately named “Conversation with the Demon”

This is part 3 of my AI art series, originally posted on Christophercant.com.  If you aren’t caught up, here’s Part 1: AI is coming, and here’s Part 2: How to Compete against AI.

For the past few months, if you only sat in certain parts of the twittersphere, you might be led to believe that AI is an aberration, come to rob us of our jobs and our meaning, and slowly replace all of human creativity with homogenous grey sludge. 

And if you've read my previous articles about AI art, you might think I share that opinion.

But I can see some ways that AI might actually be able to help us artists - and not in a painful compromise, but in a liberating way.

No, I'm not talking about generating AI artwork and painting over it. If that's what you want to do, knock yourself out.

I’m talking to the people who want to paint for a living, who want to spend their day drawing, and feel like their dream has just dissolved in front of their eyes.

Because I want to paint, and I have dreams, and I’m not ready to drop them.

“Just paint over AI art”

Alright, I‘m going to have to address this straight away.  Perhaps it’s a serious suggestion to learn how to write good prompts for AI art generators, correct the mistakes, and sell the results to clients.

So let’s look at what I think painting over AI art for a living would look like:

Many projects utilising AI art will only require a single human artist, so you are a one-person department.  You meet with the other departments to discuss what art is required for the project.

You write a little description of the content you want to generate, and feed that into the AI. The AI spits out some images and then you tell it what it misunderstood, got wrong, or should adjust.  The AI tries again with these new parameters; repeat this until you decide that the AI can’t get closer to what you want, and you take the best version of the art into Photoshop or whatever software you diddle about with.

Saving loads of time by generating some AI art and painting over it! Weeeeee!

You present the finished art to the rest of the team, and help it get integrated into the project properly.

For many projects the art will be complete within just a few months, so your part in the project ends and you hop to another project, and do it all again.

Did you spot the part where the artist gets to make art?  The AI makes 90% of the artistic compositional choices, and you only actually put on your artist hat when the AI fucked something up - which will be less and less often, as the AI improves and you get better at ordering it about.

The rest is management - you’re not an artist, you’re a manager.  You’re outsourcing the art to a robotic freelancer.  The closest you might be able to call yourself is an Art Director.

There will be very little of you in generated art, very little of your perspective, of your personality and your narrative, of the stories you tell with your art.

If you want to do that, knock yourself out - but my dreams don’t look like this.

But how else can artists benefit from AI then?

Since AI is great at doing a single task very efficiently, it’s specialists that are the ones threatened by it - if you perform like a robot, you’ll get replaced by one - and that includes digital artists.

In truth, we are all probably going to have to shift toward the manager role and outsource tasks to AI to stay employed, but you don't have to outsource your art.

Outsource the rest.

If you’re employed as an artist then your art is part of a product pipeline, and there are multiple other components required to create the finished product besides your art. Use AI to handle those other parts.  If you own and run the whole product pipeline, you’re no longer dependent on getting hired.

Don't replace yourself with AI; replace your employers with AI.

AI doesn’t only create digital art; it researches, writes, makes music, voice narration and sound effects, animates, codes, creates video, among a myriad more things yet to be revealed.

By leveraging AI, you’ll be able to build much larger projects than just the individual pieces of visual media you can create as a lone artist.  Animations, comic books, card games and illustrated novels all become much easier with some AI employees. Feature-length films and massive videogames made by a single creator will become commonplace.

Dust: An Elysian Tail, made by 1 developer, Dean Dodrill, in 2012.  Expect to see projects like this happen a lot more with AI on the scene.

The necessary tools are appearing already

We already know about the AI art tools, and I’m sure all of us are familiar with ChatGPT by now and the sorts of things it can do - basically, if you want to write anything, it’ll help you get it done.

There are other tools showing up that can simplify the majority of the product pipeline - from concept, to production, to marketing, to customer support.

Here’s a recent video by entrepreneur Alex Hormozi, talking about AI tools he may be able to integrate into his business, reducing workload or offering new angles for content production:

His video is a little gimmicky, and I'm not convinced he plans on actually adopting any of those particular tools into his business, but it does demonstrate the potential use cases of AI when running a business.

From making art to making complete products

As an example closer to home, let’s ponder fantasy and science fiction artists and how AI might be able to help them.  If they are being employed by a company to make art, usually their art is some part of a film, video game, pen and paper game, board games, card game, illustrated book, or a book cover.

AI will probably be able to reduce your workload in every phase of making each of those products.

Need to expand and polish your product’s concept?  ChatGPT is actually alright for bouncing ideas off and doing basic research, and a similar AI called Jasper.ai is really, really good at riffing off of your inputs and going in wacky, unexpected directions.  I bet all text AIs are decent at it.

Need to produce a hell of a lot of writing or coding for your product?  ChatGPT can handle that too.

If you haven't tried out chatGPT yet, it's actually interesting to play with and find its limits, and there are ways it can help you that don't feel like you're secretly just ripping plagiarised content from some poor writer struggling to make ends meet.

Need to create animated characters from your artwork?  Here's a video of someone quickly mapping a 2d portrait onto a fully rigged 3D model and using their phone’s camera to animate it:

If you’re open to the idea, and I get it if you aren’t, you could train an image AI on your art, to produce more work in your style you can utilise in your project.  I’m not sure where I sit with that particular use case, but it will be possible.

I've not tried it yet, but I expect you'll be able to use AI to test out game mechanics very efficiently, much more efficiently than playtesting every idea.

And of course there are AI to generate sound effects, music and other audio.

Marketing

If being a professional artist was a pie, then making art would be one half of that pie, with a tasty fruit filling.  Apple and cinnamon or something.  Marketing would be the other half, filled with shit.  Currently if you want to be a successful artist you have to eat that whole pie, shit and all, but with AI we might be able to get it to handle a lot of marketing for us, reducing the amount of shit left on our plate.

Creating articles and YouTube videos is a great way to generate long term passive traffic for your projects, and ChatGPT is also great at helping with those, whether it's helping you do research, plan a script, or provide alternative ways to phrase something.

It’s also great at covering its ass!

It's also a dab hand at writing good copy to accompany your products and help you get sales, and can easily shorten whole ideas into short, snappy tweets.  And if English isn't your first language, it's really good at translating and fixing mistakes.

QuillBot is also fantastic at helping you rephrase your writing, and I’ve used it to summarise things I’ve written, expand my notes into fuller paragraphs, simplify the language, and to add creative flair to the fictional stories I’ve been writing now and then (no, nothings public yet).

I came across MeetEdgar a couple of years ago, a social media scheduler that parses through blog posts on your site, pulls out snippets of text and images, and schedules them to be posted to your social media accounts at the times your account gets the most engagement.  All you need to do is confirm you are happy with its plan.

I only tested it out briefly when I found it, but I’ve dug it out again recently with the intent of using it properly, now that I’m relying on articles a lot more than I was at the time.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I'm going to be searching for more of these tools and compiling a portfolio of similar software, and sharing my findings with you guys.

Using apps like these, and the ones yet to be created, you'll be a one-man creative force.  You'll just need a vision, a passion for making art, and the willingness to manage your AI workforce.

The possibilities for a single entrepreneurial mind will go exponential - sat by yourself in your bedroom, you’ll have the creative potential of a whole studio.

The rise of the solo-preneur

As far as I can tell, the ‘solo-preneur’ is going to be the future of many creative professions.  In many ways it’ll be the best avenue for digital artists, as being employed as an artist becomes less and less viable.

In the wider world, many artists already are solo-preneurs; oil painters selling their work in galleries, YouTubers and streamers sharing their expertise and insights, T-shirt illustrators, Skillshare teachers, Patreon…

Freelancers and employed artists are probably going to have to go join them.  Hopefully AI will be able to help us get there, without it poisoning the very markets we are trying to enter.

Of course, you'll have to learn a little about many disciplines - enough to be able to spot shortcomings in the various AI outputs and improve them, but if you really want to make this career work it'll be a small price to pay.

At the risk of coming across venomous, even with the potential of AI at people's fingertips, most won't make anything with it.  Most people just want to seek comfort and consume media; only the few are driven to create, even when it’s made extremely easy for the many.

So while I’ve made fun of AI art a little bit during this post, I would advise you not to ignore AI completely and to keep an eye on the tools that appear.  They may help you stay competitive, and even ahead of the curve, moving forward.

If you combine your genuine passion and enthusiasm for creating art, with AI tools to handle other parts of your business, you may end up living that dream you wanted for yourself.

Perhaps the AI future isn’t as scary as it might seem

I can’t really give you a spot-on plan to prepare for what’s coming.

It's hard to predict exactly how AI will be applied in the future and what it will be capable of, as we are probably near the beginning of this thing.  It's simply too hard, and I’m not informed enough, to guess what tools might appear.

But I’m pretty sure that now is the time to think big.  AI is going to simplify many tasks, and drastically reduce the manpower required to make large scale products.  If you aren’t thinking big by then, you’re going to be left behind.

You’re going to have to generalise your skills a bit and learn to plan larger projects, but you’ll still be able to concentrate on your art and make it the unique centrepiece of the things you make.  Think something like 80% art, 20% other crap.

If that sounds a bit like a shitty deal, I can tell you that I’ve purposely generalised my skills a bit in the last few years, and I actually enjoy myself more now.

I used to just paint fantasy and mythology imagery.  I chose to generalise by learning to write and web design, but as it turned out I use both of those new skills to celebrate my love of art, fantasy and mythology even further by building complete websites and products.

My love for art and fantasy now feels even deeper, and my expertise in them much more rounded - much fuller.

I feel like I’m working on more important things now, because of their scale and ambition, and their potential impact - and this was recently made much more plausible with AI assistance.  I might have to pivot a few times as things develop, but I think there's a viable path forward.

I get it if you're feeling cynical about all of this.  If you feel like the career you were looking forward to has been snatched away from you, I empathise with you. I’ve felt the same way a few times in the last 6 months.  

I genuinely wish you the best of luck and I hope you don’t give up - there will always be a way to live as a full-time artist, and I hope you continue to pursue that dream, no matter the obstacles that appear in front of you.

Your humanity will act as a beacon to draw people in, and your perseverance will keep them inspired and invested.

This was going to be the last article in this little AI series, but I’ve realised I need to write one last article after this, and perhaps the most important - “Dont give up”, coming soon.

This article was originally posted on Christophercant.com

[aethersquid]

The more polished and coherent AI output gets the less interesting it is. When I see a distorted nightmare of an image where everything looks like it was formed out of sludge and might return at any moment I’m like “woo look at the funky little computer go!” and then when I see something that looks vaguely human but is AI generated I scoff in contempt. The fact that amateurish human art and “amateurish” AI art are so wildly different in the ways they mess up but that “professional” AI art is just an emulation of human art is a real tragedy. I don’t want to see AIs imitating human art I want to see AI art! I want people to actually use the fact that we live in the fact where you can just get a lump of neurons and prod it around! I want to see deliberately overtrained AIs that have indelibly bound two unrelated details together in their mind! I want to see AIs that have random technical drawings thrown into their training sets!

ai generated images make me increasingly sad and tired the more i see them in more and more casual contexts. i dont know how to explain, but it just fills the world with a bunch of nothing. no matter how visually stunning the pictures might be, there's nothing behind it for me. no dedication, no emotions, no feelings, no hard work or creativity, nothing i can truly think about, admire or enjoy. i dont think thats how art is supposed to be

[rinwolf1312]

Your AI-generated image sucks, and it makes your article look bad.

(This was originally posted on Medium, where it didn't get any attention and caused the algorithm to ONLY recommend AI generated trash.)

Name one thing in this picture.

AI models are filling the cracks and crevices of the internet with incoherent mush. At best, all of that research and money results in sloppy, airbrushed sludge vaguely resembling hallucinations. Maybe an article vaguely about your search result, buried beneath hundreds of ads.

Medium, as a platform for human writing, is at odds with human nature preferring the path of least resistance.

The platform, especially in technology-related topics, is drowning in bile and half-digested scraps of words and graphics regurgitated by the likes of Midjourney and DALL-E. Headlines promising the “BEST Ways to EARN with this [cryptocurrency] QUICK” and “TOP FIVE WAYS TO CLICK NOW YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT” spew word salads or just link to other pages and videos.

Among the heaps of refuse are human attempts at making the most words out of the least information. Struggling to make money as a writer or as a not-writer? Write a top-7-whatever list and make another seven articles for each bullet point! Scared to write an article yourself? Don’t! Or do (sort of)!

AI-generated images have a texture like fragile plastic on cheap Amazon trinkets- thin, unfinished, and prone to breaking under any scrutiny. It’s the worst quality, but is fast and convenient. Is that really what you want to attract attention with?

If you’re willing to set aside the ethical problems rampant in the field, if you don’t care to ponder the implications of companies automating the arts, literature, and other acts of passion, then consider what it says about your character. It gives the impression of laziness, at best, and that you have bad taste.

That fuzzy neon picture, depicting faces of ghosts hallucinated by TV static, devoid of decision and sprouting phantom features, can only promise little or no effort in the surrounding words.

If you’re going to write about the importance of creativity, especially if you’re giving advice on how to earn money to other creatives, opting for that airbrushed midjourney image brings your intent into question. Why not use that space to showcase another creative’s work?

That laziness is the incoherent, stumbling cry of a mind fit for middle management- stubbornly demanding polished shit for pennies, lacking the knowledge and patience to assess the quality, yet ready to shovel it out for consumption. It won’t be unacceptable if it’s just as bad as everyone else, and that is why it’s rampant. You can only deem things acceptable, from performance reviews to artwork.

“Acceptable,” by the skin of your teeth, is all you can muster.

Or you just write about Apple products. Seriously.

“You got any R̵̡̟̘̬͈̮̱̭̳̮͍͓̹ͬͪͯ͒͌̉̅̏̎̏͘͢��̃e̷̴̷̤̝̪̜̬͇͚̯̻̱̬̜̪̺͇͌ͤ̆̍ͧ̋̿̃̃̓̒͊ͦ͐́ͣ̐͊̚͟͜͢ͅc̸̷̶̨̛͉̻̺̟͕͚̖̖̲̑̋ͭ͌͆͘͟͟͝͠o̵̴̹͖̦̙̫͊ͤ̾̿̍̏͐ͪͭ̾r̸̛͙̲̥̗͈̳̦̘̖̬̊̀ͧ̑͋̀͆ͪͬ́͒̉̍ͭͭ͊ͮ̚ͅḑ̴̢̼͖̯̦̝̮̳͚͕͉ͭ̎̉̀̎ͦͨͥ͋ͣͯ̈́͒̓͜͡͠ị̴͓͈̝̟̦̥͇̦̖̀ͦ̅̌ͧͤͥ̽͞n̴̶̴̴̵̨̧̛̬̤͈̠̰͈̺̮̞̹̥̪̲͖̠̰ͫ̄̓̐͂̄ͥ̓͆ͪͥ͋̽̓̒ͫ͘̚͘͝g̝ͯ͛ͬ on your phone?”

You’re better than this. We’re better than this.

There are millions of people sharing their passion online through photos, artwork, music, fiction, and even journalism. Take some time and discover something that leaves an impression. Find inspiration, don’t paint the walls with its insides.

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[a-land-of-shadow-and-substance]

Fun with AI Generated...Burger Invasion???

Because sometimes DCA 1.0 bad food disasters make fun AI generated prompts...

Baroque seems to think the burgers are carried by the invading force...

Meanwhile Dark Fantasy imagines Burger aliens AS the invading force! (Which I think is DCA canon...)

Etching ALMOST envisions burgers growing out of a mountainside.

Hmmm... Fantasy envisions some kind of human-hamburger hybrid Tomorrowland society.

Christmas in McDonaldland!

Aww someone dropped their burgers on a cobblestone street.

Mystic envisions a cult worshipping a burger idol.  Honestly this might be my favorite result of this prompt; so many story possibilities!

...meat.

Burgers emerge from the primordial sludge.

This is what happens when you want to make a Lovecraft adaptation but the only sponsor you can get is McDonald’s.  I imagine this happens just after the events of the “mystic” painting... the Entity has arrived in its true form...

A view into a universe where Journey Into Imagination was restored, but only if McDonald’s sponsored the ride.  The resulting compromise, with Dreamfinder now riding a Big Mac themed vehicle, became controversial among alternate-universe fans.

If the DCA façade was recreated in the Tron world.

A cursed dimension where the Burger Invasion happened to music instead of the British Invasion.

McDonald’s franchises were initially met with hesitance by the residents of Pepperland.  They too, however, joined in celebrating the victory over the Blue Meanies...

Summary: Very little of this is specific to the infamous DCA restaurant that inspired it, but this does make for some amusing imagery.  I especially like the implied burger cult/eldrich burger god storyline inadvertently created by some of these images.  Overall, super fun prompt!

[kiapet2]

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 7: Nice Job Breaking It, Hero

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: An unlikely alliance is made.

Chapter Warnings: Captivity, Death Mentions

“So, how are you holding up? Because I’m a potato.”

Wind whips at your clothing and hair, that and the weightless feeling in your stomach the only indications that you are falling. You do your best to glower at the tuber hanging in front of you in the air.

“It’s your own fault. You’re the one who insulted him.”

The potato scoffs. “He normally doesn’t care what you say about him. Owns it, even. This... temper tantrum... is your fault for putting him in charge of the facility in the first place!”

“My fault?” you say incredulously. “Like you gave me a choice!”

“You could have just let me kill you,” the potato says. “It really is terrible etiquette to depose your host, you know.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time.”

There’s a sudden jolt as your feet and then your back connect with something smooth and inclined, and then you find that in place of the elevator shaft you were just falling down, you are now sliding down a clear plastic tube.

“Ah. It looks like he caught us,” the potato says casually from behind. “I’m sure that wherever we’re going is simply delightful, don’t you?

You don’t have a good response to that so you choose to ignore it. You try to look at your surroundings, not sure whether to be relieved to have been saved from the seemingly bottomless elevator shaft or worried about where you might be going now. The tube you’re in changes trajectory quickly, going both up and down and taking sharp turns to either side. Rooms whizz by too quickly to get a good look, but you can occasionally recognize the distinctive white of test chambers.

That’s probably where you’re going now. You only just won your freedom, and now you’re being thrown right back in.

“Since we have all this time together,” the potato drawls, “Let’s give you some facts about our situation, hmm? Remus is the Creativity Core. The original Creativity Core, made years before our dear Roman first came into being.”

“Yes, I knew that,” you say impatiently.

“Well then,” the potato says, “You must have heard how Remus was ‘corrupted’. But do you know what that actually means?”

“I suspect you’re going to tell me.”

“It means, my sweet, stupid Thomas, that Remus isn’t constrained by so-called rules and morals the way your dear little friends are. He’s Creativity in its most raw, unbridled form. No inhibitions, no control, nothing to stop him from doing whatever the hell he wants.”

The potato’s voice turns mocking. “And you just put him in charge of the entire facility.”

The sound of slow claps echoes through the tube.

“Ah, good,” the potato says, “I was wondering if that function still worked.”

“It’s not like I had much choice,” you snap. “If you remember, you were trying to kill me at the time!”

“Yes, well, now everyone in Aperture is going to die. That’s clearly so much better, thank goodness for your quick thinking!”

You groan in frustration and run your hands through your hair. He’s right about that last part- replacing Remus was a mistake, one made in desperation maybe, but one which may still cost you your life.

Wait. He said-

“What do you mean, ‘everyone in Aperture?’” you say. “Are the others in danger?”

“Of course not,” the potato drawls. “Having a maniac at the head of this facility wouldn’t affect them at all, it’s not like they’re inherently connected to it or anything.”

You’ve just opened your mouth to respond when the tube splits, your body sliding into one fork while the potato is sucked into the other. In a moment, he’s gone from your view.

You’ve only just had time to register the separation when suddenly the tube ends and you find yourself flying through the air. Your feet hit solid ground, and though your boots stop most of the force of your landing you still find yourself overbalancing from the forward momentum and falling flat on your face. Your nose explodes into pain as it connects with the floor.

“Augh!” Tears form in your eyes and you gingerly feel at your nose. It isn’t broken, or at least you think it isn’t- would you be able to tell if it was?- and your fingers come away without blood, so you think it’s probably okay. Smarts like hell, though.

You sit up and look around, blinking the tears away. You’re in a small room, bare except for a button and connected door. The area around you is sterile and empty, with the Core-turned-potato nowhere to be seen. You’re not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved- he isn’t exactly your favorite person right now, but at least if he were here you’d have someone to talk to.

As if on cue, a familiar voice fills the room.

Heeeey, Tommy-boy! Long time no see! Did you enjoy the ride? Do you think if you hit your nose again it would start gushing blood?

You grimace at the mental image, resisting the urge to feel again at your nose, then turn and cross your arms at the nearest security camera.

“Either let me go, or just get on with it!”

Touchy, touchy, Remus says. Well, if you’re that eager to get to testing, who am I to stop you?

Some sort of clear cylinder lowers into the center of the room, then slides open in front.

Well? Remus says as you move forward to tentatively inspect it. Are you going to get in?

It’s an elevator, you realize, but much smaller than you’re used to, almost claustrophobic if it weren’t for the clear walls- which will likely be nerve-wracking when the thing is actually in motion. You suspect the unsettling elements of the design are deliberate on Remus’ part, which just makes you even more certain that getting into this thing is not a good idea.

Or if you want, you could stay here and get hungrier and thirstier until you curl up and die. I bet I could get a lot of data from that!

You bite your lip and turn away, looking again at your surroundings. Surely, there’s some way out of here that isn’t that elevator. And yet, no matter where you look you’re trapped in. There’s no gaps in the walls to shoot portals through, and not enough height to build up momentum and try to launch yourself out.

You go back and stand in front of the elevator, your stomach twisting itself into knots. You just got out of the testing chambers- could you really bring yourself to go back? But what choice do you even have, when the alternative is staying here and hoping someone finds you before you die of thirst?

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you step forward into the elevator and watch as the doors close around you.

Now I’ve taken a look at Jan-Jan’s tests, Remus says as the elevator begins to rise, and they were okay and all, but it’s pretty clear he isn’t the Creativity Core, you know? I mean, toxic sludge and balls of electricity? It’s a start, I guess, but why limit yourself to the same old stuff when there’s so many fun ways to kill people?

The elevator slows to a stop, revealing a small testing chamber.

So that’s why I’ve come up with newer, deadlier obstacles for you to solve! First up: deadly lasers! I wouldn’t touch them if I were you- or at least if you enjoy having ten fingers. Have fun!

The doors open and you step out into the room, which looks strangely familiar. After a moment it hits you.

“I’ve already done this test chamber,” you say, then grimace, mentally kicking yourself. Sure Thomas, tell the deranged AI he needs to make his tests harder, that’ll turn out well for you.

Yes, but this one has deadly lasers, which automatically makes it better, Remus’ voice says petulantly. You caught me at a bad time! We used to have hundreds of test chambers locked away, but now I have to either use good old JAN-9000’s rooms or make them from scratch. So solve your silly little laser puzzle so you can get to the good stuff!

Wonderful, you think sarcastically, super looking forward to it. Then you sigh and just solve the puzzle.

Like the test chamber you previously solved, the solution is as simple as redirecting the laser with a pair of portals, and before you know it you’re back in the elevator. The one after is similarly simple, and involves using a special glass cube to redirect the lazers while Remus cheerfully narrates what they would do to you if you messed up and hit one. It’s almost nostalgic, really, though Remus’ descriptions of the danger are more gleeful where Virgil’s were more stressed.

By the time you get back into the cramped-yet-uncomfortably-exposed elevator, your heart is starting to calm down just a bit. It’s not like you haven’t done this before, right? Sure, you had the others then, and you’re pretty sure they’re the only reason you’re alive right now, but. It’s fine. You’re fine. And if you keep thinking it enough, maybe you’ll actually believe it.

The next test chamber forms before your eyes, panels pulling into place to make floors and walls while Remus tuts and apologizes to “Daddy” for making a mess. You do your best to ignore him as you step forward, finding a deep pit with a moving platform going across, directly into the path of a laser.

After a moment of surveying the room, you use your portals to get to the familiar form of a cube dispenser. Just like every other time you’ve used a cube dispenser, it promptly drops a cube. Unlike every other time you’ve used one, another object drops out right after the cube, one that shrieks as it falls, then bounces off the cube’s top and onto the ground with a series of “ow”s.

For a moment your stomach flutters with the hope that it might be one of your friends. Then you realize that the object that fell was much too small, and hit far too quietly, to be a Core- or at least a Core living in a body that isn’t a potato.

Just your luck, that the one person in this facility you were reunited with would be the one you least wanted to see. You go over anyways, kneeling down and poking at the potato lying on the ground.

“Hey, um, are you alright?”

“I’ve been better,” the potato mutters into the floor.

“I take it you got sidetracked?” you say, picking up the potato and not even bothering to hide your smirk. “Had a little rollercoaster ride in the cube system?”

“Yes, yes, hilarious,” the potato says. “If you picked me up just to mock me, I’d kindly ask you to just leave me here to rot, please.”

“And here I thought Roman was dramatic,” you say.

“Ah, yes, dearest Roman,” the potato says, a sinister little smile in his voice. “How might he be doing, do you think? It looked like he fell quite far.”

Your knuckles creak as your hands form into fists. “I swear to you, if he isn’t okay-”

“You’ll what? Tear me out of my own body and replace me with someone who put me in a literal potato? Oh, wait, you already did that!”

You take a deep breath, forcing your muscles to relax. “You know what? This isn’t worth it. I need to find the others, and you’re just wasting my time.”

You set the potato down and turn, preparing to take the cube and step back onto the moving platform.

“What if I said I knew how to find them?”

You freeze, then turn back. “You know where the others are?”

“Perhaps.”

You crouch down and pick the potato up again. “Where are they?!”

“Right, because I both know the exact location and would be willing to tell you if I did.”

“But you’ll help me find him?” you say insistently.

“Me, help you?” the potato says. “This situation is your doing, so why would I possibly want to help you?”

You hold the potato up to eye level, giving him a glare.

“Because this is as much your fault as mine. You’re going to help me fix it, or I will throw you down into the deepest depths of this facility I can find and leave you to rot.”

For a moment you’re afraid you went too far, but the potato just gives a deep chuckle. “Well Thomas, I must say I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had it in you. Since you asked so nicely, I will help you find the others, on one condition: you restore me to my rightful place at the head of this facility.

You almost drop him in shock. “What? No! You being in control here was what caused this problem in the first place!”

The potato sighs. “Do you know what my intended purpose is, Thomas?”

“Putting people through rat mazes and then killing them?”

The potato continues as if you hadn’t said anything. “I am the System Preservation Core. I kept this facility running when everyone else had failed, forwarded its interests above all else for decades until you replaced me and threw it all away.”

“Forwarded its interests above human lives?” you say incredulously.

“Of course.”

You scowl down at the potato. “So how do I know you’re not just going to kill me the second you get back control?”

“Thomas,” the potato replies dryly, “I think you’ve proven once and for all that it is much greater of a threat to this facility to try to kill you than to let you go.”

There’s no way you can trust that, not when this Core lies so easily. Then again, some part of your brain whispers, there’s nothing to stop you from going back on the agreement later on if need be. It’s not like he can do much as a potato.

“All right,” you find yourself saying. “When I’ve found my friends, we’ll put you back where you were.” The declaration hangs in the air between you, and you silently hope you haven’t just made a terrible mistake.

“Right then,” the potato says, businesslike. “We’re going to need some way for you to carry me, preferably not in your hands as I absolutely relish the idea of being dropped mid-jump. Wait, what are you-”

Before you can think better of it, you find yourself taking the potato and spearing it onto one of the portal’s front tines, making its occupant yelp.

“Did you just stab me?” he shrieks.

“I didn’t- I mean I just-” you stammer, then jump as the potato lets out another yelp.

“I- whoa. Okay. That portal gun must have Magnesium or something in it; I think my power just went up half a bolt.”

“So- you’re good then?” you say.

He huffs. “As good as I can be as a potato, I suppose.”

You slump in relief so hard you need to steady yourself on the wall. You don’t like this Core, obviously, but you really didn’t feel like becoming a murderer today.

“At any rate,” the potato says, “I might as well put this processing power to use, since I doubt you’ll be of much help. If you need me I’ll be doing some scheming. See y-”

The potato’s voice cuts out, and his light goes dark.

Okay, so maybe you spoke too soon on the not-having-murdered-anyone thing.

“Uh, potato guy?” you say nervously, poking at the potato. “Buddy? You good there?”

After a moment the yellow light blinks back on.

“Huh? What happened? How long have I been out?”

“Er, thirty seconds? More or less?” you say.

He hrms. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing. The extra half a volt helps, but it can only go so far. If I think too hard I’m going to fry this lousy tuber.”

“Wonderful, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” you mutter. The sarcasm makes your tone sound almost identical to the potato’s, which gives you a weird, almost deja-vu-like feeling.

You shake the feeling off, hefting the portal gun and using it to grab the nearby cube. “Are you at least ready to go, Mr. Potato Head?”

The potato huffs. “Do keep making up ridiculous nicknames for me, it’s not like I have a real name or anything.”

“Oh, right,” you say. “Remus called you Jan, right? Or, uh, Janny?”

“Janus,” the potato hisses.

You raise an eyebrow. “What was that?”

The potato hesitates for a moment, before it sighs and says, “My name is Janus.”

You mull that over for a moment. A bit unusual, but not bad as names go.

Taking a deep breath, you move forward, stepping onto the moving platform and preparing to finish the puzzle.

“Alright then, Janus,” you say. “Looks like we’re a team.”

[embarressment-erradicated]

oh my fucking god I hate chat gpt sludge appearing on ao3 SO SO FUCKING MUCH, just shut up, don't post this, if you want to explore an idea write it. don't outsource your creativity to the lowest common denominator murder bot,

"oh I just had an rp with character.ai and it was fun so I decided to post it" stop, stop right there, rping with chat bots is akin to rping with a wall. go and find people to roleplay with, they are fucking everywhere, and many people are down to atleast try it out with you "but what if I'm awake and no one else is" write something. and wait. you can do that you know, you don't have to use an ai service which drags you further from reality, and most importantly other godsdamned people

and if you feel which you aren't that creative? your lying to yourself, I swear, and even if that is true, you know what is a great way to be more creative? actually think about shit. write whatever comes to mind, take inspiration from other people, rework it to your liking, and importantly when you do that, say it don't lie and say it was entirely your idea, link to that person.

tracing isn't bad because it's stealing, tracing isn't bad because it's lazy. it's a good tool, whether in pen or or paint, however, it becomes bad when you brush the fact you took inspiration from other people off, like it's nothing, however, when you let people know what you took from, and link to it, or atleast tell people where to find it if that isn't an option for one reason or another.

but ai is lazy, it's stealing from everyone, and it's sources are jumbled up and can't be traced, it's like going on pintrest, finding a random meme, and claiming it as your own, just cause.

not only that, it's built to disenfranchise artists whether or not built specifically to do so, it's doing as such.

memes are actually a great example of a pre ai version of jumbling up sources, where is that favorite meme you like from, who made it, do they even know it's popular, did someone take it? can you know for certain, is this an edit, or the og, is know your meme reliable for this? why is this person claiming to tell you about this meme, and yet says they don't know who made it?

some people wish to remain anonymous, yes, however alot of people who made those meme templates (often small artists who can't catch a fucking break from getting their stuff stolen) would probably like it if people knew that, yes they made the funny image, or scene, or drawing or whatever. but you know what happens?

someone crops out the watermark. simply because they don't want to appear related to the person who made the thing they took from or some reason or another.

and then? a meme "curator" channel takes it and reads it in tts, or it ends up one reddit, and someone reads it in that sexy voice which doesn't even link to the posts shown, and barely shows who made the post.

memes are fun, memes are important, memes are a resource for enjoyment, messages, and ideas. but the second you make one you'll never hear about what happened to it 90% of the time, and someone else, who posts exclusively other people's stuff, is getting attention from just reposts.

and don't even get me started on ai memes, the fuck is that shit? gone are the days when people actually worked hard to make a funny parody poster? and we just accept that. NO, screw that, learn photo editing, go past the hurdle of gimp and other tools as such. have fun, fuck around and find out, make those dumb ideas, but do it with your own style and blood. if you use ai in anyway other than just screwing around with free stuff for 15 minutes and leaving (we've all done that, it's mildly humorous until you realize it's just bland) you are limiting yourself, your ideas, and your effect on the world, no one is going to care about you or your 'work' ever, simply because they can find the same exact thing elsewhere.

post scrip: [15 MT unfathoma bucks]

no economic value, redeemable in your dreams

post script:

I went on for to long, actually no I didn't all can cope, who cares if none shall read this, atleast I wrote it.

I hope you have an amazing day, and a life without the confines of latestage capitalism, even if it may not come in our lifetime, may we hope for reincarnation so we can kill that which kills our souls next time.

I think the worst part is how many book sites (royal road comes to mind) have to face the fact that either they ban ai, and allow it to run rampant, or they regulate it, even if it's not even writing at this point. that blog post I linked I think actually is a really fucking good policy right now, as ai text is nigh undetectable sometimes, and may just appear to be bland, but by giving them a corner to run around in, without poisoning the rest of the sight, you atleast heavily mitigate it, is it perfect? no of course not, will they (they being people using ai) still lie just to get some credibility? of course, but atleast it does something.

I don't want ai anywhere near my plain of existence but if stuff like this helps sort out the sludge from the rest of the internet, then that something. also every company which uses it's data to train ai can burn, die, and most importantly perish.

but hey look at these radishes which were ai generated because someone couldn't take the fucking time to draw this themselves, or even just edit a picture together cause fuck it lets just not put any effort into it at all, and just leave out any room for creative freedom. fuck it we ball I guess???

I just want to leave this planet, become a von neuman probe hivemind or something and make weird abstract art in outer space.

cya.

post script script:

oh right using ai ever for anything immediately voids all credibility your work ever has, I hope I don't need to explain why, but I thought of this while writing the tags

I hate you AI, I hate you sites making deals with souless corporations that think creativity can be replicated by an unthinking machine, I hate you money-hungry investors and ceos, I hate you opt-out models, I hate you tech bros, I hate you having to spend precious free time having to scramble our art in a desperate attempt not to getting stolen from, I hate you minimization of the hard work we put into our craft, I hate ''''machine learning''''' being compared to a very human person putting in the hours to better themselves, I hate you commodification of the very core of human's expression, I hate you scams being helped along by uber plagiarism, I hate you AI, I hate you AI, I hate you AI, I HATE YOU AI

[kakitysax]

*reaches out* Tell me more about Rai and Mal please!

REALLY?

Nah I’m just kidding y’all know I’m gonna tell you anyway.

I’m probably going to get into their entire character arcs or something so here’s a cut

RAI

I initially thought that Rai’s magic was Anger. He is an Elemental Wizard of Earth and Fire, with a decided volcano aesthetic, and he does have a temper problem. But the problem was his magic didn’t have the *dark* overtone that Orpheus and Mal did. It’s just raw and natural - destructive, but not malevolent. In addition, I had another character whose V I B E was just much more characteristic of an anger problem.

Also, Rai’s problem isn’t ANGER. He DOES have a temper, but he’s...more than that. He’s intense, and impulsive, and unfiltered, and FUCK it’s ADHD again.

Rai is ADHD.

Meta mental health symbolism aside, Rai is just a really cool character. One of my favorites. First of all he is SOLID muscle and y’all know how I feel about that. But he also lives in a volcano and I love that energy. He lives in Mount Pele, on an island of the same name in the Ai-Lauu archipelago, this world’s Hawaii fusion. Due to the fact that he is immortal and a territorial bitch, Ai-Lauu has never undergone colonization. The natives consider him their patron god (but also not really, I’m using western terminology but he’s more like their garbage kupua mascot.) They know he’s a hoe but they love him anyway.

Rai’s main character arc is homesickness. He strikes out on this journey with Orpheus out of pure boredom and dicks around with him and Mal for a while, but as time goes on he gets steadily more lethargic. Then he gets really hurt and has to go back to Pele to recover. Once there he decides never to leave again. The others come get him and see this whole other side of him - the side that is passionate and happy and has learned only to erupt on one side of the island because destroying the forest on the other side makes him sad, and runs on the beach because he can and eats tropical fruit and gets the juice all over his face and is comfortable with all the animals that live in his woods and occasionally pops on over to the neighboring islands to wear leis and party with the mortals. So yeah uh I love him.

MAL

Mallory Cessair is a Doom player. The end.

Nah just kidding half of you probably don’t know what that means. It’s just...her backstory is kinda working through the stuff that I witnessed as a kid that I was too young to know about and really impacted me a lot. So um. Triggers ahead. It’s kind of intense.

Mallory is the only Mortal in the group. She is half Wizard, which makes her a Witch. Her father, Cessair, has magic that basically represents being a dick - Poison and Pestilence and Death and Bitterness and he loves to spread that shit around.

Mallory was born to Cessair and an unwilling mortal girl. Said Mortal Girl was really not equipped to deal with both the trauma of Mal’s conception and the complications of parenting. Mallory looks like Cessair and has his magic, and as such her mother sees her subconsciously less as a child than as a curse, a symbol of everything Cessair has put into the world, and Mal has internalized that image of herself as a result.

Eventually Mal’s mother got her happy ending with a marriage to a mortal man. Whether or not it’s actually a healthy relationship is something I’m still working out. All I know is that Mal got an older stepbrother as a result of the union, who abused her.

At some point Mal runs away. I don’t know yet how long the timeframe is between her leaving her family and meeting Orpheus and Rai, or if anything important happens between there. She has a pretty abrasive personality but manages to bond with them anyway.

But like, remember how Rai got injured? It was protecting Mal.

Which only serves to further her image of herself as a curse. After Rai recovers she goes to visit him and they end up having a pretty big fight. Basically he says what she thinks (she’s a curse) she cusses him out because even though she thinks that about herself she doesn’t take shit lying down, and the group basically falls apart.

Everyone kind of blasts off to do their own thing. Mal’s own thing is tracking down her dad and FUCKING KILLING HIM.

I wrote that scene, it needs work but there’s some pretty raw-ass dialogue.

Anyway after that she kind of has a breakdown. Mal has poison magic, but the aesthetic is that she IS poisonous. She oozes poison. She sweats poison, spits poison, cries poison. And the more stressed she gets the more she secretes.

So basically she kills her dad and then curls up on the floor of his office to die. It’s like that scene in Howl’s moving castle, only without a Sophie to come get her. By the time Orpheus FINALLY shows up (his love and commitment to his friends overpowering his apathy and putting another notch in his “overcoming depression” belt) the entire floor is ankle-deep in toxic sludge.

Up until now it’s been assumed that Mal is immune to her own poison. But she’s not. Not really. Not completely. She’s kind of experiencing multiple organ failure in slow motion.

So anyway Orpheus tries to fix it but he can’t so he goes and gets Rai because Rai is the only one who can get through to her at this point and then the hurt/comfort kicks in and she flushes out all that nasty stuff with a good cathartic cry and gets a bath and a bomb-ass new haircut

But she’s still mad at Rai who is finally starting to learn that his actions have consequences

And Rai noticed that Orpheus got happier when he got a dog

So Rai pops on over to his island via teleportation magic and brings back a parrot for Mal because they’re smart and reminded him of her while he was sulking in his volcano (and it’s also green because Mal’s color is green)

And Mal teaches it to call Rai a dickwad :)

Sorry that’s WAY more than anyone fucking asked for or wanted but I like it. It’s plot stuff which never lasts long so the whole thing is probably going to undergo some MAJOR changes but this is what it is right now.

So uh

Yeah.

Please react I want validation.

[ambiguouslyliterate-blog]

Harder Than Steel

“We’ll talk after the match.”

My client’s words echoed in my mind, a reverberation that grew ever louder as the first blows were exchanged. A metal fist shot through the air, countered by a sweeping leg, the two bodies more swift and strong than any human could ever dream of being. I wondered if I’d still be able to receive payment from a bot that had been reduced to scrap. Or worse, clutching the manila envelope in my hand, if Steele’s famous fists would be turned on me.

Steele was an old bot after all and had been fighting since robot boxing started, back when they still called him HM-19903020. But this wasn’t the 2040’s anymore. No one referred to an AI by number unless they were your employer. Or, well, they didn’t like you. His chosen name was Steele, and mine was Lewis, a name which belonged to a meek bot in a small blue metal frame always hidden in a heavy coat and fedora.

The latex mask on my face strained as I watched the fight, eyes darting from blow to blow. It would be sweating too if I’d sprung for a newer model, but that was hard to do on the wallet of a private investigator. I wasn’t one of those bots who walked down the street, patted on the back and laughed with by beautiful naturals. Steele lacked a mask, his eyes a pair of red lights in the black mechanical void of his helmet. They trailed his opponent relentlessly, a masked AI in a bright orange suit. He attacked Steele with grand, leaping kicks on bladed feet, quipping and mocking at the lumbering bot as he did so. But it wouldn’t last long. Steele was old, but he was far from decommissioned. His opponent kept his leg in the air a second too long and Steele grabbed it. The young bot was flung through the air like a ragdoll, becoming a blur as he was hurled at the rusted floor of the arena, puncturing it as his body crumpled on itself. The impact was impossibly fast and brutal, time not freezing in the instant but instead moving far quicker than you thought it should. It was like watching a car wreck but with far more cheering, most of which came from the naturals. The reigning champ shot both fists into the air, his blank face turned to the sky as the stadium roared. It was the first fight of its kind I’d seen, and I hoped the last.

Bells tolled and the crowd went from a booming chorus to a rowdy bustle, bodies moving out as maintenance workers went to check on what was left of Steele’s competitor. Banners were exchanged for the next match as the last of the crowd left, Steele stepping over the guardrails of the ring. He was a giant, his shadow stretching the entire length of the floor, pointing to me like a sundial. Titanic feet bashed steel, then concrete as he made his way to me. Fists made to bend girders swung at his sides.

“Did you do the job.” He spoke downward, his voice like a backfiring truck exhaust. I showed him the envelope and undid the tie as his fingers were too big to do so. The stack of pictures passed from my hands to his, and he dragged them across his palm, sorting through them, his eyes scanning them for a long time. Longer. Longer still.

A blast of air broke from his body and the papers scattered to the air. His arm swung into one of the scrap iron beams that held up the stadium, knocking me to my feet and sending the earth into violent convulsions. Bits of trash and metal fell from the scaffolding, scattering around me. “I knew it. A goddamn human.”

The pictures cascaded around me, polaroid images taken of a natural human. The images moved before my eyes like a flipbook; a blonde woman stands in Steele’s bedroom, a man enters. Tall, white, fit. Her clothes are thrown off as the two of them are consumed in passion, knocking down trophies and photographs as they careen through the bedroom Steele’s fights had paid for. I shut my eyes.

Yelping cries of managers, investors, and other natural men with money came racketing from behind Steele. He turned to face them, his red eyes flashing towards me only for a moment as he stomped off.

“The money will be transferred you tonight as promised.”

I nodded. Lifting up a picture from the floor, a chill ran through me. I’d be able to rent at least. Steele trudged towards his owners, cursing under his breath as I picked the remaining photos off the floor. The paparazzi would be all over them soon. I liked to think I was better than them.

Gravel crunched under feet as I walked back to my car, the door slamming behind me. I scrolled through messages, finding one from my neighbor.

“Going anywhere tonight?”

“The pier.” I sent in response.

I sent another, “Having a rough night.”

My car whirred to life and we became a cloud of chalky grey dust, leaving the Scrapyard behind. But Steele’s eyes lingered in my mind. I thought about the money. It was a big payout, but the last thing I wanted to do was check my accounts. I couldn’t get his image out of my head. Shadows crept through my mind. Wide. Heavy. Strong. Iron and rage and blood spilling forth as an AI with nothing to lose tore through his home, scraps of shredded polaroid dripping from his fingers.

A natural screamed out his window as I sped by a stop sign. I drew up my shoulders around my head, my breaks screeching as I came back down to the speed limit.  My body shook in my seat, sound and sight mixing like static in my head. I cranked up the car radio, trying to drown everything out, staring at the darkened road as I charged towards the pier.

Lights glittered and danced on the far boardwalk, shining like torchlight on the water below, shimmering for miles. You wouldn’t think a place like this would exist in Michigan, on the shores of Lake Eerie. But this was the age of machines, a new age for Detroit. The city was still a rusted pit, but now we had an amusement park. Funny how that worked. My place of peace wasn’t the pier however, but a mile or so down shore. On the craggy rocks where the dull roar of humanity, of joy, of distant life, could still be heard. But not loud enough to overstimulate. It was perfect.

I sat there for what must have been hours, letting my mind wander at a time when it was safe to wander. Though the same couldn’t be said for the places it went. As money flew into my account, Steele was crumpling asphalt under foot, tearing away his door frame. I hear a natural human’s head doesn’t crush like a car; it’s more like a watermelon.

Sopped in thought, it took me a while to notice. Over the dull roar in my mind and the soft lapping of the lake foam, I almost didn’t hear the voice. My head snapped to position, eyes locked on a nearby drain pipe. Sludge leaked from within, shiny-greenish like something you’d expect to leak from a trash bag. That, and a half-disintegrated hand.

A scarred latex hand with tube-like fingertips hung over the edge of the cracked cement. Lingering, dragging across the drain. Cold webs pushed through my body, gripping me, rooting me to the rocks. I stared at the pipe, not sure what else I could do. I wondered for a moment if something had come to get me, if somehow I was being punished. Maybe for Steele. Maybe I should just cash the money and throw it into the lake. I muttered a protest, only to see a single shining yellow eye behind a cracked lens peek out from around the cement.

“I- I’m sorry.” Its voice cracked, edging just far enough from the opening that I could make out its shape.

It was a lean AI in an industrial chassis. A hardened casing wrapped with yellow and black caution lines and a head like an oversized gas mask. Most of its paint had been peeled away, the deep green giving way to scarred steel. The helmet was caved in, the top smashed into a shape like a crater, the edges of the wound melting inwards. His helmet hung loosely enough around his head that I could see his metal skeleton moving within. The naked being beneath the shell and all its broken decorations. And it was shaking.

"Are you okay? My name's Lewis.” I said with a broken monotone, trying to keep my voice steady. He stayed there, clawing at the pipe, moaning as if I wasn’t there. As if he couldn’t hear me. And yet he stayed staring right at me.

I tried to look around the stranger's hand, seeing his fidgeting limbs. My feet clapped loudly against the wet rock, the AI’s fidgeting gaining pace as I neared. It was the only way yet he'd acknowledged my existence. Then I saw what his hands were playing at. He wasn't fidgeting with his other hand, he was scratching, digging holes into his stomach. Bright acidic fluid hissed from the tips of his fingers and his wrists, bubbling around his wounds and eating away at his body. I wanted him to ask him to stop, to grab his hand. But I knew moving too quick would be the worst thing I could do. Quickly, I came to accept that I had no control over the situation.

"Are you okay? My name's Lewis," I repeated, trying to keep my tone equal, hoping again that it would help calm him. I hoped all the training at my past job hadn’t gone to waste, "I'm here to help."

"You can't talk to dead bodies..." He rasped, his voice was like a children’s toy with a dying battery. It was a statement as cryptic as it was morbid. I paused for a moment before speaking, considering my position, my body. Finding a dry spot among the wet rocks and dark pools of oily unidentified substances, I sat down, removing my hat and placing it in my lap. I placed my hands on top of it, keeping them clearly visible.

"Then I won't talk. I'll just listen.”

The robot went silent again, staring at me from behind the wall. He would duck every so often, as if trying to escape. But something kept him here. I hoped it meant he was willing to talk, “I don’t want to hurt you. My name is Lewis, do you have a name?”

“NM… 903… 017…” he mumbled, his voice broken by static. He stared at me with sorrowful eyes. They were brighter than before, but more hollow. Like the eyes of someone in a dream.

“How can I help you?” the AI whispered, his voice like a dying light.

NM- 903017 wasn’t telling his story, but I think I already knew it. It was the story we all shared. Of people trying to do their jobs, trying to succeed in a world not built to cater to them.  A job was the only place you had in the natural’s world, and that was the one thing he didn’t seem to have anymore.

“Did you… Talk to a dead body?” I asked, re-angling my legs. The AI rattled, his eyes drawing into himself. A foot emerged from the pipe. Emaciated. Burnt. Latex ripped away to reveal the mechanisms within, greased by the same substance that dripped from his arms and body. His eyes darted untrustingly from side to side, his movements were as meek as ever, but still he drew closer. I sank into a sigh, wondering if I’d come to repeat the actions I’d taken for Steele. If I’d just be enabling another disaster. Even at just this slightest expression of trust, I felt myself growing incredibly anxious and horribly excited, and that was something I couldn’t help. I was built to help. It was my job.

“Boss said… We just burn the customers… We don’t talk to them.”

Realization came slowly, but I began to piece things together. It may not have seemed like much, but as I was helping the AI towards my car, I had nearly understood everything I needed to know.

I took a blanket from my trunk and draped it around him. He jerked at the sensation, his damaged touch receptors flaring at the overstimulation. I pulled the blanket off and laid it across my backseats, apologizing to the sulking figure. He shook his head, waving an oozing finger at me. "No, no... The customer is always right." He mumbled, and lowered himself into the rusted chassis. As I rounded to the driver side of the car, I began sifting through my hard drive. I cross-checked his AIN, a number I hoped I didn't recognize, and found a match.

It was an offer from a robot disposal plant, one where an artificial worker had gone missing. Last thing anyone knew of him was when he was trying to shove himself into one of the machines. My stomach churned at the date of the incident. Five months ago. The case was one of many I'd taken in hopes I'd be the one to break through, the underdog who was able to find the missing robot. The payout was massive.

Landing in my seat with a thud, I started up the car.

Helping a runaway find his way home. Back to a paying job. Back to a normal life. I wondered if that was really helping, or if I was just part of the problem. Only adding to the broken system the naturals had created. I looked through the rearview mirror, my back seats like the core of a rotted yellow-green fruit, stained with compounds used to break down clothes and latex, everything but the bare metal meant to be recycled. There was no way I could take him home, I thought. No way he could enter my home without destroying it, no way my landlord would approve of the new resident. I had to take him back. It was the only option I had.

"I haven't been out since... Since Noele and Albert took me to the party..." the bot sighed, staring at me through the rearview. A vacant smile came to my lips.

“And what’s your name?” I asked feigning ignorance, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

There was a hanging silence in the car. It lasted seconds, then minutes. I put my key in the ignition and a whir of life filled the car, the AI behind me jumping.

“Patrick!” He startled, his voice almost vanishing behind the growl of the car’s engine.

“Well Patrick, how does sleeping in a bed tonight sound?” I asked. He didn’t answer, but a warm, crackling sound came from the depths of his voice box. I think it was a laugh. Soon enough, the car began to move and we were started down the street.

My eyes went to my rearview every so often, checking on the robot as he fidgeted in the back seat. He wasn’t talkative, rarely responding.  He just sat in the back seat, watching the lights of the city scroll by the window. Talking to himself.

"I used to make my customers smile... All kinds. Come happy… Go happy... Now they go down the chute."

Part of me wondered if he knew where he was. If it was right to take him anywhere. I knew the stories of rogue AI were all exaggerated in the news, but I couldn’t help but see our faces flashing on a television screen next to a screaming white man. Patrick just another one of the “goddamn toasters” that had lost it; ones step away from rising up and destroying humanity. And yet, looking into the backseat, seeing him shake, shivering at the noises of my car, the street, and himself, I only saw a broken man.

I stared ahead, watching the road. "I know the feeling," I sighed, "I used to be a nurse but, since that incident with the kid in Cleveland, they've been trying to get us out of hospitals."

Patrick didn’t respond, but he nodded, the two of us resigning to the silence once more. The car jerked as I came through the jagged entrance to my apartment complex, taking a spot under a canopy. Patrick’s eyes darted about his surroundings as I helped him out of the back seat, now sizzling and stained, keeping him in the shadows as I brought him up the stairs to my flat. He seemed confused, gazing around at the bare walls as I tried to force my key in the lock. Muttering under his breath.

I looked up at him, trying to keep my tone even, “Your employer’s looking for you. Did you know that?”

Dazed yellow eyes stared at me for a few moments, mechanical noises like simulated breath rattling from his chest. He nodded his head, eyes locked on me as it swiveled. My door popped open, the hall light piercing the dark-shrouded room. Neither of us walked in, only staring at each other. I wondered if this was really the right thing to do. If he really wanted this.

Patrick’s hand, still hissing with the mysterious corrosive substance, gripped my arm tight. He coughed, looking at himself, pulling at his abdomen. A piece came off in his hand.

“You’ll… Help me.” He breathed.

“I will.” I nodded.

“I don’t… Want to go back.”

“I know,” I responded, clapping a hand against his back, “You don’t have to. There are ways to change your AIN. Get a new identity. I can help.”

Patrick fell into me, arms gripping my body, face pushing into the nape of my neck. I heard the toxic bubbles brimming against my coat, the fluid seeping through my tie and my shirt. I closed my arms around him, reassuring him for a few moments. He held on longer than I would have imagined, long enough that I figured my coat would be completely eaten once he pulled away. And I held onto him all the while.

I led him into my apartment, locking the door behind us as I started the best patch-up job I could do. Removing the damaged casings from his arms and legs, exchanging his hands with spares that I had, sealing the acid-leaking fingertips and torn into a metal bin, I did everything I could to strip him of his old body. Everything that weighed him down. As we finished and Patrick hugged me again, I showed him the way to my bed where he flopped down, his body limp on the blankets. A long hissing sigh coming from the exposed speaker in his throat. His body was broken, and now reduced to a thin mechanical skeleton, his only way of emoting being his eyes and voice. But he thanked me profusely. He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep. I agreed, knowing how hard it was for a bot made for human interaction to lay alone in the dark. But I had to do one thing first.

I took a picture of one of the ruined casings I’d removed from Patrick’s arms, one that had his AIN printed on it.

"Found your bot,” I typed, “These parts were washed up on the shore of Lake Eerie. I’m sorry but I don’t think there’s any hope of him coming back.

He returned my message immediately, and with the same empathy and care I’d expect.

“Shit.”

Another message, "I'm not paying you for finding a dead toaster.”

And a third, “Bring whatever parts you find back to the plant so I can put them on a bot that WORKS. Maybe then I’ll pay you something.”

I paused. Carefully considering my answer. I could bring him the whole casing. Get an alright payment from it. But somehow I knew this little piece of his arm was all I would give him. Patrick had given him enough.

"You're not paying me,” I said in rebuttal, “I'll bring it in the morning.”

A few seconds passed. I walked towards the bed, my phone vibrating in my pocket. One notification. Then another. It felt like the first time I’d truly smiled in weeks.

---

Learn more about Artificial here! 

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #308

“The Tomb, Candy Gift, Buff Pigs, Bad Enders”

- The cage is quiet. The offensive plant is drooping, staring sightlessly into the middle-distance from it's position on the chandelier high above the patterned floor. Far below, a little thread of blackness is wending it's way along the small divots and textures on the floor. The plant stirs a little, sensing something amiss but unable to detect it. The bit of liquid seems to hesitate and then slip soundlessly under one of the consoles. It feels around what's contained within and finds nothing of interest, just animals and broken AIs. It uses the cover of a small shadow to dart under the other one, sensing something more promising within. It probes at the mechanism, looking for an opening. It's still unusued to being in this digital place, and the instructions it's been recieving are hard to hear. But it's tired of chasing shadows and smells in this vast jungle of squares. It settles in to wait for a chance.

[Traveler] Stalks into the cage sometime later. She's still a bit angry over her new scar and needs some time to herself. With relative ease, she opens the way into the seed that generated her and never notices the intruder that follows her within. The portal opens into a desert and she gives a sigh of relief at being away from everyone else.

-At her feet the bit of oily liquid silently latches onto the back of her shoe and goes along for the ride.    

[Traveler] Walks long into the night, the occasional hostile mob noting her and usually shying away. As dawn is breaking over the hills, she spots a structure half buried in the sand and walks towards it curiously.

-The obsidian stone walls and small columns stand out starkly against the yellow sand; but there's a glimmer of something lighter within.

[Traveler] Curiously sneaks inside, minding her footing for any possible traps.

-The glimmer was quartz. Someone lovingly lined the inside walls and flooring with the pure white mineral of the Nether. At the back of the building is a stone bath of sorts, an empty vessel large enough to hold a person and raised on a modest dias. The detail that causes her breath to catch in her throat is around it though. A section of weeping obsidian, like a black stain across the pristine floor on one side of the dias.

[Traveler] Carefully skirting around it, they look down into the basin and sigh. It's empty, and likely has been for a very very long time. She swings her torch around the darkened space and pauses in front of a tablet hung on the wall.The image is strange, a lovely woman with her hands outstretched to the viewer, and the placid face of a pig. The eyes seem to ensnare Traveler, soft, and almost pleading. On a whim she removes the tablet from the wall and stows it in her inventory. There's a slight humming noise now that the wind has died down and she finds herself walking around the small space, listening intently.

[Traveler] Finds the source of the sound, it's coming from a small blank section of wall and she explores every nookmfor a button or a trick before simply chipping out a hole with a pickaxe. The light and heat spill out of the hole suddenly, the purply sparkles like spits of burning fat as they pop away from the walled off nether portal. She hisses in disgust and backs away.

-Sensing the nearness of the opening into the chaotic realm of the nether, the bit of sludge melts off her boot and flows into the hole in the wall, melting into the shadows around the black framed portal.

[Traveler] Lobs the stone pickaxe into the portal and it makes a small flash as it teleports away at the boundry. She checks the space again for anything hidden and hurries back outside.

-The pick lands with a crunch in a patch of soul sand and theres a yelp as a figure that was walking by narrowly avoids it.

-A hand reaches down and grasps the pickaxe, it's pink and humanoid and very much alive. It was pure kismet for the pigman to be in that place at that time. Away from the tiny village in it's fortified corner of the Nether. The creature looks back at the huts, the black carapaces that make the small roofs and reflect the muted glow of the lava that flowed freely down the soaring bedrock wall. He turns over the pick and walks unsteadily in the direction it seems to have come form. High on the face of a pillar of netherrack, he spots the tinest purple glow through a crack. He makes his way up the face and removes another block to make the frame more visible. Something is calling him forward towards the ocillating surface and he moves into the light without hesitating.  

-On the other side the darkness and sudden chill is disorienting, and he blinks, trying to get his small eyes to focus. Then shrieks in sudden panic as something wet slaps into his face from the ceiling, and slithers around his neck. It's no more then a thread, encircling his throat, but he knows in some inexplicable way that it can become more like a wire that will slice his head clean from his shoulders if he does not obey.

-It's not what the thing is used to controlling, and something so unsubtle would likely frustrate it's master, but there are no other good options... at the moment...

[Lie] Had felt the unease of her pod and heads down to the cage. She finds the door open and she steps inside to investigate. The cage is empty, but her pod quickly comes down to greet her- Hey, what's wrong?- The pod cannot accurately give a sense of what's wrong, only that it was something it couldn't see. Lie walked the room and looked at the consoles but couldn't find anything wrong. She shakes her head a little and decides that if something went through into one of the seeds that wasn't supposed to, then she should probably close the door. She wrote a quick note in a book and placed it by the door, stating that anybody who did get stuck in the cage should call for one of the psychic brines before she left the cage and shut the door

[Doc] Sneaks out of the castle early in the morning and trots out into the desert with a lumpy bag. Xe transforms and headbutts a hole in the world. The rank smell of old blood that flows out of the portal nearly sends hir into a coughing fit and xe holds hir nose with hir paws to stay quiet. The dragon sniffs at the hole to see if it's clear on the other side and reaches in with one paw, up-ending the bag on the floor in front of the tv. There are several boxes and one rather large, potted rosebush clunks out as well. Holding hir breath xe closes the hole again and then takes massive gulps of the clean desert air while coughing as the stench clears.

[Strangled] Had been in just the next room over and panics a bit at the sight of the rosebush before running to get Slender-

-all of the boxes have names, Slender, Trender, Sally, Ej, and the rosebush has a tag indicating it's for Offender.

[Slender] Walks in and looks at the mess in front of the tv and sighs before grabbing the rosebush and transporting it to his brother's proxies place since he has a strict no roses rule for in the house.  He gathers the rest of the gifts and reads the tags before taking and distributing them, leaving them in the rooms-

[Sally] Wakes up with a little yawn, she looks around and spots the present at the end of her bed.  She crawls over the bed and opens the gift-

-The box is full of different types of colorful candy from Yaunfen's seed.

[Polybius] Happens to walk by Slender-

[Sally] Gasps happily and starts devouring the candy happily-

[Slender] - Morning Polybius

[Polybius] Good morning sir... - He looks a bit peaky. He's obviously not feeling well.

[Slender] - What's wrong?

[Polybius] Grumbles, his voice is low- I need an adaptor... The one I was using is missing. I think I left it in the kitchen.

[Slender] - You could check BENJAMIN's room, he does have a collection  of items

[Polybius] Last time I went in someone elses room you yelled at me, and I know he's not here right now.

[Slender] - Yes, but if it is a desperate need, then entering his room is understandable

[Polybius] Thank you - He pauses - Did we get mail?

[Slender] - Apparently, from the Doctor if Strangled is to be believed

[Polybius] Huh? Did Strangled fight with the little twerp too?

[Slender] - He and his brothers were all at the Doctors home until he came back with me

[Polybius] Do we trust them? They seem kind flakey.

[Slender] - I'm not sure yet

[Polybius] Yeah. I've heard a few things that made me wonder too. Mostly Ej's incessent complaining.

[Slender] - Yes, he's having some difficulty readjusting.  The organs must be cooked now for him to consume them.  Although there was a package for him as well

[Polybius] And you just gave to him? You're sure it's not something to make him worse? Wait, so that one is for you? You should open it. Make sure it's safe.

[Slender] - If it will help put you at ease- Slender carefully unwraps the gift

-It's a rather large jar of white powder with a small note, and a smaller packet wrapped in tissue paper beside it.

[Polybius] His tv goes white for a second, - is that fucking cocaine?

[Slender] Reads the note-

-Bone meal for the healing pod plant-

[Slender] - Relax Polybius, it's simply powdered bone

[Polybius] Is craning to see the other packet - I don't know... I don't trust these young digital types...

[Slender] Unwraps the other packet-

-It's a very soft tie in a deep reddish maroon with black lines. It's a pattern of netherbrick-

[Polybius] Kiss-ass... or it's a trick.

[Slender] - I would suspect the first suggestion considering how terrified of me they are

[Polybius] Mean chuckle - Good, then they aren't entirely stupid. I still think we should check on the others though.

[Sally] Slams open her door and goes running down the stairs towards the kitchen-

[Polybius] Small electrical noise as he's instinctually drawn to the sound and looks that direction-

[Slender] - Sally?  I'm over here

[Sally] Comes running back up, her face covered in sugar- Papa!

[Slender] - ...  Perhaps I should have at least vetted hers...

[Polybius] Oh geeze... let me guess? Candy?

[Sally] - Lots and lots!

[Polybius] Gives Slender an expectant look. - Should I go kick their ass?

[Slender] - No, leave them be.  I'll speak to Splender about it- He turns to leave- If you wish to check on the others then go ahead, I'm going to clean up Sally

[Polybius] Hurries as best he can to Trender's room and taps-

[Trender] Opens the door, a bit irritated, he's got several measuring tapes around his houlders and several fabrics in his tendrils- What is it?

[Polybius] I heard the Doctor sent you something, did you open it already?

[Trender] - Not yet, no

[Polybius] Could you? Just to ease my mind? I need to check on Ej too. I don't trust this Doctor at all.

[Trender] - Oh very well, come on in

[Polybius] Slinks in. His screen is full of eyes as he scans the room for the package.

[Trender] Had placed the package on a desk and he now does and picks it up before opening it-

-As the box is opened a bit of light spills from it-

[Polybius] Swears - It's making light?! Is it radioactive?!!!

[Trender] Pulls the item out-

-It's roll of fabric that been used on a crafting table and given a blank enchantment. The color is a pale purple but it's shimmering like enchanted armor does with whites and darker purples.

[Polybius] AAARGH.

[Trender] - How interesting, I believe I saw something like this on Splender's coat the last few times I saw him

[Polybius] Goes blue screen for a moment. - It's okay?

[Trender] - Yes

[Polybius] Huffs and goes to leave - I'm still going to check on Ej....

[EJ] Is still asleep-

[Polybius] Sees the box outside Ejs door and grabs it with a growl, bumping a bunch of his dangling wires against the door-

[EJ] Rolls over- Fuck off!

[Polybius] Rips th box open aggressively and is shocked on the object inside- FFFFFUUUUUCK

[EJ] Groans and rolls out of bed, not even bothering with his mask he opens the door- What the fuck are you doing outside my door?

[Polybius] Motherfucking Doctor asshole! - He's clutching his hand and the box is on the floor-

[EJ] Looks in the box-

-It's another glitched compass like the one Doc made for Ej to shock-stimulate his guts. They assumed the pervious one might need a recharge or have gotten lost or damaged in the normal chaos of the manor.

[EJ] - Oh joy, another one of those things

[Polybius] What the fuck is it?! It shocked me!

[EJ] - Something to help my new guts

[Polybius] It's not some kind of mean joke?

[EJ] - Unfortunately, would be less annoying if it were

[Polybius] Still seems annoyed. His hand obviously needs attention, it's a bit burnt.

[EJ] - Do I need to fix your hand?

[Polybius] Growls - Maybe... - He gives the box a bit of a kick, not enough to move it. He's just being petulant.

[EJ] - I'll get some cream

[Polybius] I still want to go beat them up...

[EJ] - Pretty sure we all do

[Polybius] Then why hasn't it happened?

[EJ] - Mostly because CP is there, and Splender

[Polybius] -And Splender likes everyone... Pfft...

[EJ] - And will absolutely destroy you if you hurt one of his friends

[Polybius] Grumbles-

[Endrea] Is out flying with Ashe in the early morning. She could feel that the day seemed like it was going to be a hotter one and so the cooler morning air was currently perfect for flying. Ashe glides under his mother in the protection of her wings as he scans the ground below for signs of endermen-

[Ashe] - Mama? What are we doing?

[Endrea] - Well, you are technically the ender dragon for this seed, thus the wild enders are your enders. I don't know what sort of relationship your predecessor had with them however, so I don't know if they will obey you

[Steffan] Is walking down below with a pick over his shoulder and Enderbro loping along behind him.

[Enderbro] Sees them and waves excitedly-

[Ashe] - Mama look!

[Endrea] Glances down- Would you like to go say hi?

[Ashe] Nods and glides down, landing near the duo-

[Steffan] Oh hey Endrea, and Ashe? You've grown since I saw you last.

[Enderbro] Sweet flying googles!

[Ashe] - Yeah!  Mama and I are looking for my enders!

[Enderbro] You found one! Yay you!

[Steffan] Laughs a bit - yeah, bro was never close with Jean anyway.

[Endrea] - Well, the reason is that technically all the wild ones on this seed are Ashe's...- She lands carefully, trying not to knock over any tree's

[Enderbro] Tps to her and hugs one of her front legs-

[Steffan] Oh? Are you going to try and show em who's boss?

[Ashe] - We don't know

[Endrea] - We don't know what their relation with their previous dragon was like, and last time Ashe ran into them they did attack him- She reaches down and nuzzles Bro

[Enderbro] They're majorly uncool. Meanies!

[Steffan] Rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. -Yeah... bro's come to my defense more then a few times.

[Endrea] - Well hopefully we can figure out why and maybe put a stop to it

[Steffan] I thought the native brine wanted the mobs to be wild?

[Enderbro] Walks over to Ashe nodding-

[Endrea] - Well yes, he does, but there's also usually a natural pecking order as well

[Ashe] Sniffs at Bro-

[Enderbro] Giggles- Guess what I got?

[Steffan] I get it.

[Ashe] - What?

[Enderbro] More then one pocket slot!

[Steffan] Mutters - just so you can carry even more junk around-

[Ashe] - Really!?  Wow!

[Endrea] Humms happily at the two-

[Steffan] Yeah. Doc worked on him for the umpteenth time.

[Enderbro] Stands on his head excitedly- I got candy for being good at the Doctors too!

[Ashe] - Candy is always good!

[Endrea] - That's wonderful bro

[Enderbro] And other Steve gave me extra ghast tears for it too!

[Steffan] Kill me....

[Endrea] - Ghast tears?

[Steffan] Massages his forehead - He has a sort of swear jar. When it's full he can request some kind of treat. It's some kind of child psycological thing.

[Endrea] - I see...  Does GK often take advantage of this?

[Steffan] Yeeeeeeeeessssssss.....

[Enderbro] I got a hat!

[Ashe] - I wanna see!

[Enderbro] Rights himself and pulls a huge sombrero out of his inventory and puts it on his head. - I'm fashionable!

[Ashe] Laughs happily-

[Enderbro] And GK taught me a dance!

[Steffan] NO. Do not do the dance!

[Endrea] - Dance?

[Enderbro] Must dance!

[Steffan] No! I have no idea where he got the idea, but it's aggravating!

[Ashe] - I wanna see!

[Enderbro] Pulls out a fish. It's one of the candy fish from Yaunfen's seed and perfectly dry. It's green and gummy looking-

[Steffan] Looks ready to bolt- Bro....

[Ashe] Watches curiously-

[Enderbro] Does a rather German looking dance involving stamping his feet and slapping his knees and lightly smacking Steffan in the face with the fish-

[Steffan] I hate you.

[Endrea] Can't help but laugh a little-

[Ashe] Laughs loudly-

[Enderbro] Finishes his dance and hops easily over Steffan who's now pouting. - Ta da!

[Endrea] - That was very good bro

[Enderbro] Thanks big mama! - He takes a sweeping bow-

[Ashe] Perks a little as he hears an enderman teleport nearby-

[Steffan] Goes on the alert instantly and switches his pick for a sword-

[Enderbro] Perks a little and then slow blinks as he instantly forgets why he stopped dancing.

[Endrea] Stands over them in a more protective stance for a brief moment before relaxing- It's alright, it's one of mine

[Steffan] Oh! Okay. - He puts the sword away but stays on the empty slot next to it.

[Enderbro] Decides to stand near Ashe like a one person honor guard in his sombrero

[Endrea] - Would you like me to ask one of them to help protect you Steffan?  They can help keep the other mobs away

[Enderbro] But he's got me! I can VOOP with him aaaaand gone!

[Endrea] - Alright, Ashe and I should be going now though

[CP] Is watching Blake try and wrangle the new blazes which are wandering around the fenced in area they are in-

[TLOT] Is walking by with Steve and stops to look.

[Steve] How come they're fenced in Cp?

[CP] - Because otherwise they'll wander and I don't think you want them getting into your village...

[Blake] Is getting very irritated with the blazes-

[Steve] I thought they were...? OH. These are the new ones, right?

[TLOT] Looks slightly perturbed.

[CP] - Yup, and I'm enjoying Blake's frustration

[TLOT] Still haven't forgiven him huh?

[-CP] - Not since he's decided to start trying again

[TLOT] He really wants your ass. Do we need to find him a mate or is it just you specifically he wants to bugger?

[CP] - Well he did occasionally used to fuck Giselle as well...

[Blake] Has to catch a fire charge that one of the new blaze's launches towards him-

[TLOT] Makes a face and replies mentally- I'm glad that particular problem is no longer relevant at least....

[CP] - Yeah...- He snorts as one of the new blazes just becomes completely confused at what Blake is trying to tell him

[Steve] I always got the impression that the nonhumanoid mobs on our seed weren't too bright...

[CP] - A few seem to have some inkling of intelligence...

[Steve] Karen is at least as smart as a cat or dog.

[CP] - Yeah...  But this is pretty entertaining to watch

[TLOT] It is pretty funny. I can taste his rather toasty irritation. How are the other new recruits faring? I don't even know exactly what you took. Just that there were only twenty of them.

[CP] - Eliza's at least got the newer spiders listening to her, I've got Winston working with your pigman who surprisingly seem more intelligence than strength based

[TLOT] That's... well, I'm not going to say anything bad about them. One specific quirk of theres spared me a lot of suffering in the Nether.

[CP] - Which was?

[TLOT] They're fastitiously tidy. If you die in the Nether on my seed they'll push the bodies into the lava. It gave me a chance to heal when critically injured rather then just lie there helpless. It's also why the Wither skeleton undeads are burnt and black. They're the hostile Steves that made it to the Nether.

[CP] - Well, either way they're easier to handle than my other ones.  It means I won't have to fight them over and over again for dominance

[Steve] That's good at least. It's too small a house to have people constantly bickering

[Blake] Shouts in alarm as one of the blaze's tries to hug him-

[Steve] Awwww! Friendly blazes. So cute.

[CP] - Yeah...  Really not army material...

[Steve] Shrugs- Maybe they're good at something else? No one has ever tried to teach them stuff, at least not that I know of.

[CP] - We'll see

[TLOT] I notice that Blake is still, well, Blaz-y?

[CP] - Yeah, I'm just taking a bit of a break from coding, I've almost got it finished though

[TLOT] I'm still willing to help. You know my way is quicker.

[CP] - Nope, not happening

[Steve] So.... how was the paperwork? Are they decently happy here at least?

[CP] - I still haven't gotten to that...

[Steve] You haven't even read any of it? - Wilts a little.

[CP] - I'VE BEEN BUSY!

[Doc] Darts out of the castle and sneaks along the shoreline, what xe's about to do is risky, but xe's more confident in hir own abilities then ever before. Xe stops in the playroom beside the water and shears off a large chunk of tail fluff before putting it in the farthest corner. The dragon takes a deep breath and charges forward, breaking a hole into someplace rather familiar. They emerge into Cp's old study in the Nether.

-The place is unnervingly quiet without any mobs, things are growing dusty and the only sound is the occasional bloop from the lava far below-

[Doc] Sniffs around a little before scuttling down a hallway. Xe's nosing doors open and peeking inside. When xe reaches the kitchen, the dragon spots the coffeemaker still on the dusty counter and takes it.

-There's a bit of a crumbling sound as a bit of nether brick falls off the exterior of the building-

[Doc] Hurries along, searching for one room in particular. Though xe does stop to donkey-kick the steel door to Lie's old cell out of the wall.

-There's a slight shift to the energy in the air-

[Doc] Notices and mutters- Still hanging around huh? Fine by me. I'll steal what I want right out from under your horribly mangled nose. - They move a little faster now-

[Harvestman] His energy is coming closer at a casual pace, as if he isn't concerned by Doc's presence at all-

[Doc] Finds the room xe wants and makes a hole in the wall to get into it more easily. The stone table is as it was, but the shelves around it that once contained the healing potions are all smashed or empty. They grab the stone table, still infused with Lie's healing blooms, and wrench it off the floor-

[Harvestman] Enters the building, his pace quickening-

[Doc] Stows the table and charges back down the hallway, sensing the change in pressure. - Good thing I'm faster then you.- Their paws pound the netherbrick as they get closer and dart into a fresh portal in the middle of the study, their tail accidently knocking the desk and chair over. The dragon skids in the small area on the other side and accordians into the back wall of the playroom with an unpleasant thud as the aperture closes behind them and is swallowed over by the firewall.

[Deer] See's Doc return and types into the chat- Love?  Is everything okay?

[Doc] Hit my head, but I'm okay- Xe's putting the fluff back on hir tail-

[Deer] - If you say so...  Where did you go?

[Doc] Chuckles- I just nipped out to steal something. It was dumb, but you know I gotta indulge in the occasional grief just to clear my head. - Xe hops onto the roof of the room and takes off towards the town. -

[CP] Has herded the new blazes into the safety of a stone shelter until tomorrow-

[Doc] Does a graceful roll in the air over the town and touches down as light as a feather outside Lie's house-

[Lie] Is coming in from the green house-

[Doc] Trots over- Hey Lie!

[Lie] - Doc!  Good evening!

[Doc] Is grinning like xe's done something naughty - How are the plants faring?

[Lie] - Well, do you need something?

[Doc] Just looking for Cp.

[Lie] - Um, I think he's out back...- She's a bit suspicious

[Doc] Does a little bow and then gophers a bit to see if he's visible- Thank you.

[CP] Is heading back towards the house from the direction of the horse pen-

[Doc] Hey Cp?

[CP] - What?

[Doc] Heads towards him- You busy?

[Lie] Starts following Doc-

[CP] - ...  Not at the moment...

[Doc] I brought you something. And I pissed off your NOTCH.

[CP] - What did you do now?

[Lie] - You did what?

[Doc] Stole something out from under his nose. Really just being a Herobrine in general. Mostly symbolic.

[CP] - Did you get his sword?

[Doc] Well.... no. Even if I could take it, I'd destroy it rather then bring it onto the server.

[Lie] - So what did you bring?

[Doc] This- Xe pulls out the table and sets it on the ground-

[CP] - Why do you have that fucking thing?

[Doc] Because it has code from Lie's healing flowers embedded in it, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to have anything with bits of either of your codes left behind where anyone could mess with them.

[Lie] - Doc...  That's, very sweet of you.  But don't you think it may get more use at your place?

[Doc] Nah. Cp is training mobs. It's inevitable that someone will get hurt sparring.

[CP] - Not Lie or I, and healing stuff will hurt mobs

[Doc] Is thinking a bit loudly - there's always Markus, Cn and Stevie that visit...

[CP] - So?

[Doc] Do you really want me to take it? I can do the same thing I did with this one easily to the quartz tables I already have.

[CP] - There's no need to have it here, we have young dragons that may try crawling on it and I don't know if that may harm them or not

[Doc] Sighs- Okay... It's a bit grim for my decor, but I'll take it if it's a problem.

[Lie] - Don't worry Doc, you'll probably get more use out of it than we will

[Doc] wilts a little before picking up the table and putting it away again.

[CP] - Are we done here?  Lie accepted a dinner invitation from Notch for both of us...

[Doc] Yeah... I guess... It's not any big deal but i have something else that's yours- rummages-

[CP] - Oh what now?

[Doc] Presses the coffee maker into his hands. - Just this.

[CP] - Why the fuck did you grab this?

[Doc] Shrugs- I knew it was yours. The whole fortress is pretty spartan. If I'd seen anything else that was obviously yours, I'd have grabbed it for you.

[CP] - Whatever- He slips it into his inventory

[Doc] I won't trouble you further then, enjoy your nice family meal. I'm gonna head home

[Lie] Goes to CP and takes his hand- Come on, we'll be late if we wait much longer

-It's early morning and the little group of pigmen from TLOT's seed are looking for Cp-

[CP] Is up on the roof, watching Lie tend to her animals as CN tries to help her-

[Francis] Calls up to him - Sir?

[CP] Glances down- Hm?  What is it?

[Hoff] Can we speak to you for a moment? We have a curiousity.

[Mouth] Something odd during our patrol.

[CP] - Sure, why not.  Not like I have anything planned at the moment- He flies down from the roof

[Francis] Gestures to Hock, who seems a bit intimidated by Cp-

[Hock] We saw the Doctor chasing a zombie Testificate with a glowing apple. It was quite strange.

[CP] Scoffs- Not really that strange actually.  Golden apples and a potion of werakness can be used to reverse zombification

-There's a small collective gasp-

[Baconn] Sir...

[CP] - Yeah, it's usually just used on zombie villagers, but we did also use it on all the kids in the village and others too

[Baconn] But if it works on others... could we... try?

[CP] - You want to try?  Why?  You may just end up like normal pigs and you wouldn't be fire or lava proof anymore

[Francis] Wilts a little - We are undead though. It's not much of a life.

[Baconn] I would risk it.

[CP] Sighs- I'll see about getting the ingredients, but surely what you have here now is better than what you had before?  You have access to books and many other things

[Baconn] Holds out his hands, his stubby fingers are green and the rotting flesh has exposed a bit of bone. - I barely know my name sir. If I was something else before this, I want to know that as well. And if finding out costs me my life, then that will be on my head, not yours.

[CP] - Fine, I'll get the stuff, but I want you to be absolutely positive about what you're doing

[Baconn] I am positive.

[Hoff] Holds Moth uncertainly

[CP] - Alright, come back tonight and I should have everything you'll need

[Francis] Then we will discuss it as a group in the meantime. Thank you sir.

[CP] - Yeah yeah, whatever

[CP] Once the pigmen were gone he checks on Lie briefly before teleporting off to the castle to raid Doc's trunks for the materials he'd need-

[Doc] is walking back from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and hears him shuffling around. Xe sneaks to the nearest corner and then another and slips up behind him slightly out of reach- hey neighbor, need to borrow a cup of sugar?

[CP] - Fuck off!- He pulls out a bit of blaze powder

[Doc] Aw, come on. It's really rare for you to just come over on a whim. You must be onto something interesting.

[CP] - And it's none of your business- He starts on another chest, searching for a spiders eye to ferment

[Doc] looks at the powder - oh are you brewing? It's been forever since I made anything but coffee on mine

[CP] - How many ways do I have to say fuck off?

[Doc] smiles and takes a sip of coffee- You always tell me to fuck off, it's like your way of saying hello. You want a cup?

[CP] - No!- He finds a spiders eye and pockets it

[Doc] I saw that, you know I'd give you any materials if you just ask.

[CP] - Go away!

[Doc] Is it like LH Cp? Food tastes better if you steal it?

[CP] Growls before teleporting to a different part of the house-

[Doc] whispers in the chat to Deerheart [and Yaunfen] - hey love? Just a heads up, Cp is sneaking around the house. I think he just wants to get some materials and he's too proud to just ask

[Deer] - Do you know what for?

[Doc] He's brewing something up

[Deer] - ...  Literally or figuratively?

[Doc] Literally. He's already got blaze powder and a spider eye

[Deer] - Oh dear...  And we all know how his potions turn out...

[Doc] I think he's just not adding the proper amount of love to the mix, that's all.  - Xe's turning some old glass blocks into bottles and clinks them deliberately together-

[CP] From elsewhere in the house- FUCK YOU DOC!

[Doc] I said you could have them!

[CP] Goes dead silent in response as he grabs some gun powder-

[Doc] Sniffs around for him and walks in his direction unhurriedly.

[CP] Is just about to leave-

[Doc] Come on, let me help. I've got the whole afternoon free.

[CP] - No!

[Doc] Why not? Are you making potions to be drunk? You know mine always taste better anyway.

[CP] - Doc I am so close to murdering you right now

[Doc] How come? I didn't do anything. Why so out of sorts?

[CP] - Will you just fuck off!?

[Doc] Fiiiine. - Xe stomps back off toward the house and shuts the front door a bit hard.

[CP] Relieved to be alone teleports home and gets the rest of the stuff before taking command of Lie's brewing stand which is covered in dust and sets to work-

[Doc] Peeks back outside to make sure he's gone and then shapeshifts in the yard. Xe slips quietly down into the turf, stopping only to admire a small natural gold deposit under the spawn. The dragon slips up under Cp's yard and curls up in a small void underground, listening.

[CP] Works quietly and soon has the potion finished, adding the gunpowder to turn them into a splash potion- There, that should do it- He's debating raiding Stevie's house for gold for the golden apples

-The little group of pigmen are conferring in the yard-

[Hock] I hope he isn't mad at us for asking...

[Francis] Don't worry. It's a reasonable request. This seed must have riches aplenty if they're using potions and gold on mere villagers.

[Doc] Perks- Listening closely-

[Moth] I just feel like we've forgotten something so important....

[Hoff] Me too. it's maddening.

[Lie] Comes around the corner, about to check on her green house- Oh, hello

[Francis] Hail the queen. - There are some polite bows all around-

[Lie] - Please, there's no need to call me that

[Baconn] Mistress?

[Lie] - Just Lie is fine

[Francis] How are you faring this evening? We're waiting for your mate.

[Lie] - I am well, just going to check on my plants.  What are you waiting on CP for?

[Francis] He said he'd aid us in getting rid of our pitiful zombie status.

[Lie] - Getting rid of your zombiefication?

-There's a bit of an urgent ripple in the ground and the dragon rises up out of the grass. - He's trying to do what?

-The pigmen scatter for a moment and then coallese in a circle around Lie with swords drawn-

[Lie] - Whoa!  Calm down!  It's just Doc!  Xe's not a threat!

[Doc] Scoots back a bit-

[Francis] Squints and then relaxes- OH yes... That was just a bit... startling.

-The others shuffle a bit and sheathe their weapons again.

[Lie] - It's alright, it's one of Doc's abilities

[Moth] I think it's kinda neat. Just unexpected.

[Hoff] And we're a bit on edge anyway.

[Doc] Is shuffling around in hir inventory for the translation egg-

[Lie] - Just give hir a minute

[Doc] Okay I got it. Now what is going on?

[Baconn] We saw you trying to reverse a villagers zombiefication. We want the same healing.

[Doc] It doesn't really work the same on you guys. It may just turn you into normal pigs.

[Lie] Looks skyward- We wouldn't know till dawn...

[Francis] Is there a reversal if it fails?

[Doc] Kinda? I mean a pig that gets hit by lightning has a chance of becoming a zombie pigman...

[Lie] - But that could put you in a lot of pain...  Or kill you outright

[Doc] Curls up to think. - But that effect is a piece of coding. I might be able to isolate it...

[Lie] - Well there is a bit of time before we would do this, at least a couple of hours...

[Hock] Sits down, holding his knees. - We've waited this long.

[Baconn] I know we must have more in us then this, Lie. - He indicates the bare patch of skull that makes up part of his face. - If we can live again....

[Doc] I understand. I'll help any way I can

[Lie] - I also know that if something does go wrong, CP will work on reversing it.  He's very good at coding

[Doc] So... where is he? He was at my house pilfering materials, but I don't keep gold for apples just lying around.

[Lie] - Ummm...  I don't know...

[Stevie] From the direction of his place- BROTHER!

[Doc] I'm shocked he didn't just tear up the beacon pyramid outside the village...

[CP] Darts back into the house with Stevie chasing after him-

[Doc] Stevie? How much did he take?

[Stevie] - All of my gold and diamonds!

[Doc] Sheesh... Cp? Why the Nether did you take his diamonds? I can't think of a single reason you'd need them!

[CP] - None of your business!

[Notch] Walks around the side of the house- Oh? Did I miss the time to yell in the yard announcement?

[Doc] snorts out a laugh.

[Lie] - Hey Notch...  I'm not sure what CP is up to now...

[Stevie] - Give me back my stuff!

[Doc] He's being a pest.

[Notch] Cp! Don't steal from your little brother. That's crappy.

[CP] - But I actually need some of this stuff!

[Notch] Well you could have asked first. What are you doing?

[Doc] He needs golden apples

[Lie] - Should I go in there and try to get the stuff back?

[Notch] Puts a gentle hand on Stevie's shoulder and whispers to him. - I'm still in creative. I can give you whatever he took as long as it's basic items.

[Stevie] - Just gold and diamonds

[Notch] Come on then, I'll take care of you. I'll give him an earfull later.

[CP] Is busily crafting the golden apples-

[Stevie] - Alright, but I'm still mad at him

[Notch] Yeah, that's expected. He pisses me off sometimes too. - Gives Stevie a hug and leads him back towards Notch's little house-

[Doc] I still think he took the diamonds just to be an ass.... It's not like he doesn't already have a full set of armor and weapons that are better then diamonds anyway.

[CP] Finishes the apples- Alright, now just to wait for nightfall

[Francis] Is pacing while Baconn stares into the middle distance, occasionally glancing at him.

[Doc] Is working on some rather complex coding. Xe's seperating line by line the process that makes a pig into a zombie.

[Lie] Watches as the sun finally slips below the horizon-

[CP] Comes outside and growls at Doc- What the fuck are you doing here?

[Doc] Waves a paw at him- I'm working on my computer. What does it look like?

[CP] - Do you have to do that here?

[Doc] From what you seem to be planning, I think I might be needed anyway.

[CP] Flips Doc off before turning towards the pigmen- Alright, who are we testing this on first?

[Baconn] Steps forward- Me sir.

[CP] - Are you sure?

[Baconn] I've never been more sure of anything in my miserable existence.

[CP] - Alright- He splashes him with the potion and then clicks on him with the apple, the familiar sounds of the combination kicking into gear echoing around the area- Now we just wait for dawn

[Baconn] Shudders in the throes of the potion as the sun rises. With a yelp he suddenly turns back into a pig. He turns panicked but intelligent eyes to his friends who grunt and yip in alarm.

[Doc] Shit... Though Iwas reading, there is an unused madel for these guys besides the pig and the zombie... I might be able to do something...

[Baconn] Starts panting like a dehydrated dog.

[Francis] I'll get you some water! Baconn.... my poor comrade - He picks up the pig and rushes to the little pond.

[Baconn] Drinks and drinks with noisy slurps and suddenly leaps into the water, sinking quickly. There's a blinding flash like a lightning strike and a huge figure rises up where the pig was. He's nearly as big and muscular as Buff, with healthy pink skin and the face of a pig. His loincloth is straining over his thighs like a tiny hankerchief. - F-Francis? - There's a pregnant pause and he starts to cry. - FRANCIS. Fix him next! Please!

[Doc] Wow... um... I'll just, make you some pants... yes.

[CP] - I've got one more apple, that's all the gold Stevie had

[Baconn] Still crying-

[Francis] Confused - I trust him. Do me next.  - holds out his arms-

[Doc] That's okay, I want to throughly check them over to make sure this is stable. If Francis is volunteering then we'll have a repeatable result hopefully. - They're making a pair of green trousers from a skim of grass block texture.

[CP] Hits Francis with the potion and then the apple-

[Baconn] Watches nervously as Francis shakes and shivers and pops back to the shape of a pig.

[Francis] Makes a dead run for the water and leaps off the edge into the pond-

[Lie] Watches nervously-

-The water erupts as the pig transforms into a figure just as large and muscly as Baconn-

[Francis] Stands there blinking for a moment and then it's as if a light goes on in his eyes- BACONN

[CP] - I going to need a lot more gold...

- The two practically smash into each other and start kissing, making happy grunting noises and crying on eachother.

[CP] - THE FUCK!?

[Doc] More pants.

[Lie] - Well they are from TLOT's seed

-the other pigmen look equally confused but happy for their friends.

- happy snorting from the pond -

[CP] - You've got to be kidding me...

[Doc] Holds out two pairs of green pants and the pigmen take them, slipping them over wet skin with a bit of difficulty.

[Lie] - I wonder why water did that...

[Francis and Baconn] both trot over to Cp and kneel.

[Francis] we owe you so much sir. We will gladly defend you and Lie with our lives.

[CP] - Just keep the kissing out of sight from me

[Baconn] Yes sir.... And we might need bigger swords too.

[Doc] More work for Tungsten, Drillby and Aurum

[CP] - Yeah, now I'm off to get more gold...

[Baconn] Good hunting sir! Do you need a guard?

[CP] - No, I'll be fine...  Doc on the other hand...

[Doc] Fluffs up very slightly-

[Lie] - CP be nice

[Doc] I can't examine them if you beat me up.

[Francis] walks over to them. - what would you have me do?

[CP] - Nope, just keeping you out of my way

[Doc] Doesn't hear him because Xe's distracted- just put your hand right here and stay still... Oh... That's unusual....

[CP] Teleports off, mostly to get the gold Notch just gave his brother and then search for more-

[Lie] - What is it Doc?

[Doc] This state is unstable. It's not s perfect healing.

[Francis] frightened face- we'll die again?!

[Doc] No just turn back into normal pigs. It's a coding error that's bugging out in a specific way in reaction to the environment. The long and short is that you need to regularly immerse in water to stay as you are. Probably about once every three days.

[Baconn] So... We need to stay in the overworld to avoid reverting?

[Doc] Yes.

[Francis] I'll gladly pay that price.

[Lie] - Sounds like we might wanna build a bath house...

[Stevie] - BROTHER!

[Doc] That would look nice with your roof style...

[Doc] Oh good grief....

[Lie] Sighs- I'll start planning the building out...

[Doc] I thought you were goign to make a mob barracks anyway? Haven't they all been sleeping in your workroom?

[Lie] - Just the ones effected by rain, Eliza has built a nest for her children

[Doc] Still... they're guests of a sort. And I think they aren't going anywere.

[Francis] Can we help?

[Lie] - If you want, I'll probably recruit Notch since he has creative

[Notch] Cp! Dammit!

[Lie] Groans in irritation-

[CP] Has teleported to TLOT's room and is taking the gold blocks from there-

[Steve] Is sitting on the bed reading- Ummmm Cp? What are you doing?

[CP] - None of your damn business

[Steve] Is calling for TLOT, but he's more perplexed then angry.

[TLOT] Poofs by Cp- Could you not?

[CP] - Fuck off TLOT

[TLOT] Are you just having an Endermen day?

[Seve] Giggles-

[CP] Takes more gold blocks-

[TLOT] Building a summoner?

[CP] - Nope, personal business

[Steve] Present for Lie?

[CP] - None of your business- He then teleports off

[TLOT] Okay then. -at Steve- I'm sure we'll find out later.

[Stevie] Looks at Lie- When my brother shows back up, let me know

[Doc] Just come see me later Stevie. I'll replace anything and even give you some sweets on top of it. I have an excessive amount of donuts right now.

[Stevie] - No need, father already replaced the stuff...  Again...

[Doc] He's nice like that. Still... donuts...

[Stevie] - Maybe later

[CP] Teleports back into the house to get to work-

[Hoff and Moth and Hock] Are all in a little huddle, just waiting for Cp.

[Doc] Is muttering, - probably going to need more clothes too... Lie? You should give me a couple of flowers so I have some different colors to skim. I feel scattered. You pick.

[Lie] Thinks and spawns a blue flower, a red flower, and a yellow flower-

[Doc] Twists up a pair of robes, one yellow and one red and another pair of pants from the blue flower. All are really voluminus, just  in case.

[Francis and Baconn] Are giving each other loving pokes and tickles and speaking softly-

[Blake] Comes storming up- Mistress!

[Lie] - Yes?

[Blake] - I need to speak with the master about the new recruits, where is he?

[Doc] He went to do some griefing apparently. Just listen for the angry yelling. You'll find him.

[Francis] Gives Blake a crisp salute and a huge smile- Snork!

[Blake] - What sort of monstrosity is this?

[Lie] - Blake!

[Francis] That's a bit rude.

[Baconn] Eyeballs Blake- Says the fire squid.

[Doc] A live Pigman. Impressive, aren't they?

[Blake] - What did you call me?

[Baconn] Sorry, sir squid.

[Blake] - I outrank you!  You will not speak to me like that!

[Stevie] Whispers to Lie- Can I hit it?

[Doc] I got this- Doc puts hir paw on Blakes head- Just chill out Blake. They've just had a very strange experience and emotions are running a bit high. These two are a pair and you just insulted his mate.

[Blake] - They're abominations like this!

[Lie] - Blake that is enough!

[Endrea] Picks up on Lie's anger from her room and steps outside-

[Francis] We are not! We're alive and not rotting. This is as we should be.

[Blake] - You are ZOMBIE pigmen for a reason! You are not supposed to be like this!

[Endrea] Shifts to her full size and climbs on the roof to loom over them-

[Doc] Actually I was reading up on this... the pigmen were supposed to be a living mob as well, and have villages in the Nether the same way Testificates do in the Overworld. - Pats Blakes head-

[Blake] - But that is not how they are supposed to be now!

[Endrea] - That's enough Blake, your being a fool

[Doc] Lets go of him. - He's being an old fart. Times change Blake. Just roll with it.

[Blake] Is just growing angrier-

[Endrea] - Stand down Blake, you know I outrank you

[Doc] She has you there. Besides, You don't 'outrank' me. I'll just sit on you until you calm down.

[Francis] Giggles at the thought.

[Blake] Many frustrated noises before storming off-

[Lie] - Thank you for interfering Endrea

[Hock] Is staring up at Endrea with obvious awe - She's so beautiful...

[Moth] And BIG. That's a big dragon.

[Doc] That she is. Have you not met her yet?

-Some head shaking-

[Lie] - This is Endrea, the general for all mobs in the End.  She's bonded to me rather than my husband

[Baconn] Does a suprisingly graceful bow for his size- Madam General.

[Francis] Gestures around- I'm Francis, this is my mate Baconn, and our comrades, Hock, Hoff and Moth.

[Endrea] - It's a pleasure meeting you, if Blake or any of the other mobs give you trouble you can come to either me or Winston

[Francis] Yes mamn.

[Doc] So what do you think of the days work so far Endrea? They're a much more pleasant sight then Grayson ever was.

[Endrea] - Indded, that foul smelling idiot was quite the nusiance

[Doc] So is Winston just the Pig leader now?

[Hoff] He seems a fine fellow. Very thoughtful.

[Endrea] - Currently, yes.  But I suspect the Master will choose a new general once things have settled

[Hock] Do we get to vote?

[Endrea] - Usually the Master will choose who he thinks will fit the role best.  The pigmen were an exception in the past since his respected strength over everything else, so the strongest was the general

[Moth and Hoff] Confer quietly- Francis should be in charge.

[Francis] Why me?

[Moth] because you asked that question when I suggested it.

[Doc] Well played.

[Lie] - I'll discuss it with my husband, but he'd still probably want to wait a bit, probably wait until things have calmed down

[Baconn] Plus Cp's other two pigmen might have a problem if they aren't consulted.

[Lie] - Or....  We could potentially trick them.  They see strength above all else, we just need to make them think that you're stronger than them

[Francis] Why would you think we aren't actually stronger then them? - He flexes his muscules and it looks like several bulldogs fighting in a very small bag.

[Baconn] Heart eyes-

[Lie] - I'm not saying you aren't, but to put it bluntly?  those two are idiots

[Doc] Little laugh snort- Lets wait until you have some suitible weapons first, those swords look like toothpicks now.

[Lie] - True

[CP] Finally comes back outside with the rest of the potions and apples- Alright, we're ready

[Hock] Shaky raised hand- Can I be next sir?

[CP] - Yeah sure, why not

[Hock] Shudders and changes, stepping backwards into the water to minimize the time spent as a pig. He lets out a whoop of joy. He's not as big as the other two but stil formidible.

[CP] - Alright, you two are the last ones

[Moth and Hoff] Move to just stand in the water-

[CP] Hits them with the potion and then clicks on them with the apples-

[Moth and Hoff] Shudder and change with a crash as the potions take effect. They swell enourmously, just as large as the lovers, their chests seem to have six packs of slab muscles with a nip in the middle of each and they both have a fine coat of bristles on their heads. Now that they're healed it's blazingly obvious they're twins. The two women let out a few notes, singing their joy and the pure tones fill the yard and reverberate back like the best of operatic voices in the tight cluster of buildings.

[Moth] Sister... how could I forget...

[CP] - Take the next couple of days to readjust to these forms, I still have some coding to work on

-There's a chorus of thank you sirs, and we will sirs-

[Lie] Smiles at her husband as he heads back inside- Well, I suppose it's my turn to get to work

[Doc] Oh! Can I help? I haven't straight up built anything in a while. Anytime I expand the castle someone bitches me out for doing it.

[Lie] - Sure I just have to find a spot first

[Ashe] Is sniffling in the library-

- there's the sound of a door creaking open and Celine flies inside followed by a grumbly Mb

[Celine] Notices him and banks around, landing beside him- Ashe?

[Mb] What are you doing here kid? Where's your mom?

[Ashe] Sniffs a bit and looks up- Momma's at home...

[Mb] She know where you are?

[Celine] Why so sad?

[Ashe] Momma knows I'm here... And it's because of my ender men...

[Mb] okay?

[Celine] Are they mean?

[Ashe] - They hate me

[Mb] Eh, fuck em them. Who cares what they think?

[Celine] Why would they hate you? You're so nice!

[Ashe] - They hate me because of my predecessor...

[Mb] Oh the one that dingus Steve killed?

[Celine] But that's nothing to do with you!

[Ashe] - They were supposed to take care of my egg... But their hate... They refused to do it, that's part of the reason I was born so sickly and weak!

[Celine] Snuggles up to him- that's so terrible! Stupid Enders!

[Mb] Growls- I could beat them up for you. That would be fun.

[Ashe] - Theirs too many for that, besides, you might attack one of mamas instead

[Mb] I would hope your mamas Enders would be smart enough to run from me...

[Ashe] - Probably...

[Mb] Besides, you don't have to beat up EVERYBODY to be in charge. You hang around the same house as Cp often enough to know that shit.

[Ashe] - But I don't wanna beat them up...

[Mb] Hey, I already offered to fight them for you kid. There's no ender made thats a match for a Herobrine.

[Ashe] - But what if they hate me even more for doing that?

[Mb] Fuck em.

[Celine] Master... no fight please...

[Ashe] - I just...  Don't know what to do...

[Mb] You could always sic your big mama on them. Since Cp traded Ends with his seed and this one, the only ones left of yours would have been the stragglers in the Overworld at the time. And they should probably be outnumbered by the ones that she brought with her.

[Celine] Wraps her wings around Ashe and hugs him tight-

[Ashe] - But what if they hate me even more because of that?

[Mb] I'm a bit confused as to why you care kid.

[Ashe] - Because I don't want them to hurt everyone here...  And they've attacked me before, but I didn't know why

[Mb] You're acting like they aren't hostile to the others here already. Shit, you look at one and they go ballistic.

[Ashe] - But if I could command them like mama does with hers, then I could stop that!

[Mb] Yeah, but your mama can boss her's around because she gave birth to em!

[Ashe] - I know...  I just, need some more time to think...  I think...

[Mb] Are you sure I can't just go rearrange their faces?

[Ashe] - I don't think Doc or TLOT would like that much...

[Mb] They're the ones that wanted the mobs wild. Who cares if a bunch of assholes get beat up? You think they don't get killed for attacking people on a regular basis?

[Ashe] Unsure noises-

[Mb] Snorts- See? You only need a little mayhem to get a reputation. There's a good reason that plenty of players fear the eyes even though they've never met a Herobrine.

[Ashe] - But I don't wanna be feared, that's what made the enders hate my predecessor

[Mb] Yeah, but fear is more effective then love when you're trying to command a group that might be hostile.

[Celine] I think you're being bad Master.

[Mb] Ugh... Celine... Just don't.

[Ashe] - I don't know...

[Celine] Master is naughty!

[Mb] long annoyed sigh-

[Ashe] - I think I'm gonna go find Momma now...

[mathysphere]

@evil-pansy thank you for asking this! And it's not stupid at all-- these are great things to ask!

As far as this AI-pattern-spotting idea is concerned, I was thinking specifically of ones that feature the same tell-tale signs you mention; there is unfortunately no shortage of those. Here's a couple I got from just a quick dive into the most recently-listed patterns:

To the best of my knowledge, there are no programs that will intake a text prompt and output a full pattern*, so patterns like these would be made in two steps: first, the creator would have a generative AI program produce an image, and then the creator would load it into a pattern generator like WinStitch or PCStitch to convert it into the actual pattern.

The pattern generator is a necessary part of the racket, but it is worth mentioning and underlining that honestly, pattern generators kick ass. They're great for all-purpose pattern making, and really excel when converting photos or paintings to cross-stitch-- if you've ever seen someone stitch a photo of a relative, or a beloved pet, or their favorite boyband member, odds are that they made that pattern using a generator.

The programs aren't infallible, though-- there's an art to getting a picture to turn out right, without too much confetti or inaccurate colors, and the best results (shout-out to Gecko Rouge!) involve a lot of time spent going over the pattern by hand. There's a great section in the Mr. Xstitch Guide to Cross-Stitch that covers converting images, complete with stitched examples of some common gaffs-- highly recommend checking it out, if that's a style you're interested in.

You can see in the preview above that Minun kinda looks like shit, though, and that's the trouble-- it doesn't take too much work to generate a decent pattern, but it takes zero effort at all to make a shitty one, and if you don't post a close-up on Etsy it can be hard for anyone to tell-- at least, until they've bought it and tried to start stitching.

That's the bone I have to pick with pattern mills, both the AI ones and the regular sort; they're able to flood the market with zero-effort sludge, and make it hard to tell the bad patterns from the good. Also the assorted ethical issues with both, but I will try and stay on track--

My guess is that there are AI-generated patterns in a more 'traditional' cross-stitch style, too, or at least a pixel art style; the most common AI image makers aren't optimized at all for pixel art, and can only produce images like this one:

[a closeup of an image used to promote an AI pixel art generator: notice how it isn't actually made out of single, same-size pixels]

The cross-stitch style is even more niche than pixel art, which means it takes more effort to get the program to generate something accurate; still, it would not be too much work to generate an image that looks 'close enough', and then simply neglect to include any closeup photos in the listing.

I'm still trying to figure out how exactly to set up the AI-pattern-identifying survey site... I won't hope to get a perfect result, but ideally we can at least identify what percentage of patterns are obviously AI, and then go from there.

*though there is this iconic reddit thread

Okay, here's a rough game plan:

Hypothesis: there are more AI-generated cross stitch patterns on Etsy now than six months ago, considerably more than there were a year ago, and several-hundred-percent more than there were in late 2022 (the earliest data I have).

Second hypothesis: 0% of those patterns have been test stitched. Additionally, 0% of them are in any sort of cross-stitch-specific style; all of them are pictures in other art styles (watercolor, photorealism, stained glass, etc) that have been converted to full-coverage patterns.

Third hypothesis: even if their numbers have increased, AI patterns still represent less than 1% of the total number of patterns on Etsy.

Fourth hypothesis: while the number of AI-generated patterns has increased, the overall percentage of patterns that are not test-stitched AND are conversions of existing artworks has not changed since late 2022.

(this fourth hypothesis is the one I am least confident in!)

To test these, here's how I think a pattern-sorting template could work:

I've got to head to work, but-- am I missing anything?

[wreathedinscales]

Bird mom showering baby firebird with love after the loss of baby firebird's partner.

I’m gonna keep this short, but this deserves like 2500+ fic that I don’t have the energy for tbh because I do feel better but I’m still Tired

The team doesn’t seem to realize that Kendra used to be a barista. She can make her own damn coffee, no AI needed. And she can make it way better. No offense to Gideon, but they make hospital-grade sludge.

Kendra sips her cappuccino, flipping the page of a future Vogue magazine. Turns out Jensen and Danneel’s daughter is just as stunning as everybody thought she’d be, and, Kendra’s pleased to note, looks lovely in a ballgown with a bird on her finger.

Another little known fact about Kendra: she adores birds.

She’s knee-deep in her guilty pleasure gossip when she hears a knock on her door. Wings trailing lazily behind her, she leaves her magazine on her hammock and gestures with her mug for Gideon to open it.

Mick stands there, beer in hand and eyes averted. Kendra remembers the time before she left, when he’d look her in the eye with this ferocity, as if he was constantly daring her and the rest of the world to find him wanting. Now he looks like a man without bones to keep him upright.

Kendra’s wings twitch. “Hey, Mick.”

Mick’s shoulders tense despite her quiet tone. He grunts.

“Do you wanna come in?”

“…this wasn’t a good idea.”

Calling on the strength of four thousand years, Kendra grabs Mick’s sleeve and drags him into her quarters. He stumbles a little in surprise, but doesn’t get up when she plops him on the cozy couch she managed to squeeze in on her return to the Waverider. He even accepts her trading the beer for a water bottle she fishes out of the mini-fridge.

(Hey, Kendra’s had experience on a time ship now. She came prepared this time.)

“What’s up?” she asks, sitting next to him.

He glances at her. “Nothin’. Forget it.”

Kendra casually drapes her wing around him. She’s gotten into the habit of doing it since she came back. Something about Mick just—pings something in her, a protective instinct. 

It’s the kind she’s come to recognize from having children over her lifetimes.

Because she’s tuned so closely with her wings, she feels Mick lean into her feathers, just enough to encourage Kendra to fold them all the way around his arm.

“What is it?” Kendra murmurs.

Mick purses his lips. It comes out in a rush: “How’d you do it?”

Kendra tilts her head. “Do what?”

“When. When Carter died. How’d you do it?”

Oh. “You mean…how did I get through it?”

The water bottle creaks under Mick’s whitening knuckles.

Cautiously, Kendra presses against his side, relaxing when he doesn’t move. “To be honest, I’m not the girl to ask when it comes to dealing with the death of a soulmate.”

“Snart and I weren’t—”

“Mick.” Kendra shoots him a sardonic look. “I have eyes. And literally thousands of years of experience. I know what soulmates look like.”

Mick looks away again. “Why shouldn’t I ask you?”

Kendra sighs. “Because I never really coped. Sometimes I never had the time. Savage always killed me right after, when I refused him again. Even in this life, when he died, I never…I mean, I guess I never really processed it.”

“You did get engaged to another guy.”

“In my defense, we had two whole years together before that.”

Mick grunts. “But you weren’t happy.”

Kendra’s mouth quirks. “I was. Just not the way I was happy with Carter.”

Mick nods. There’s a wretched look in his eyes.

“I was lucky enough to find him again, though in a different form. He’s way more at home on this futuristic ship than our apartment. But that sense of rightness is still there.”

“Best shadow you can have,” Mick mutters.

“Yeah.” Kendra frowns. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much help, Mick. But I’m here for you, okay? Whatever else you need.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Mick mumbles something.

“What?”

“I can’t sleep in my room,” he says.

Kendra grins. “Well, lucky for you, I have this cozy couch. And a nest.”

Mick finally looks up. “You what?”

Kendra: sorry Carter, but you can’t sleep in our room tonight.Carter: ??? Why?Kendra: [image attachment]

Carter blinks owlishly as his phone screen is abruptly filled with a photo of Mick Rory nestled in Kendra’s meticulously made nest of clothes. It’s bigger than him easily, but Gideon managed to store it in their quarters’ tiny closet anyway. Now it’s housing a powerhouse of a guy who’s curled up in a ball, sleeping soundly under a smiling Kendra’s wing.

Kendra: because if you’re the reason he doesn’t get a good night’s sleep, you won’t like the consequences.

Carter has spent more than enough centuries with Kendra Saunders to immediately reply I’ll sleep in my old room and leave it at that.

[titleknown]

Yeah, and to add to that, I will say that while I defend AI artists in general, it leads to one point I'll have to give to the anti-AI-art people.

In that, while the solution those of us like those in @are-we-art-yet propose wrt unionizing and working within existing labor orgs to stand up to megacorps replacing you with AI work for professional artists, indie artists who work on commission are dealing with a whole different set of problems wrt AI art.

Like, you see them talk about being flooded out of searches, fears of being buried under the volume of AI art being produced, and the much longer time it takes to do their art meaning they cannot compete with the speed and superficial polish of AI art, and these are real problems.

But, where they get it wrong is, this isn't because of AI, AI just revealed the larger forces at work doing this, and it wouldn't be such a problem if those larger forces weren't running rampant.

Like, the way online feeds both incentivize churn and de-incentivize archival makes it hard to form a consistent audience for one's specific; unique style. A specific unique style; by the way; that AI art doesn't really naturally have, that I've observed only the best workers with the form actually achieve, and that the overproduced "sludge" kind especially doesn't have.

So, when art is consumed as these singular isolated images, not allowed to exist in the context of not just the artist's other works but also the artist's voice, it's easy for AI to seemingly have the upper hand.

And it'd be a lot weaker if that mode of consumption didn't reign king compared to; say; the more personalized model of the old net that folks like our brave soldiers at Neocities are fighting for.

But, I think that we need more than just them there. And I think it starts with an idea. That idea of: The net should be designed that artists can work at their own pace without risking audience and livelihood. And that is an idea we need to fight for.

Hot Take: I think any platform that lets you "subscribe" to people should have multiple subscription/dashboard feeds to put different people in, so you can put folks who work in mediums that have slower updates (Like, say, animation or giant video essays or huge elaborate hand-drawn stuff) in a place where they don't get drowned out by folks that update nigh-on every day (Let's Players, reviewers, ect).

Hotter Take: Said places should also have a search function that prioritizes material by how often their creator posts, specifically so you can find folks who post infrequently who might get lost in the shuffle.

Hottest Take: I think those should all be a part of a broader unified fight by artists for the right to work at your own pace. Because, in all the panic over AI art and fears of it displacing small online artists with the speed and ease of its production; and the constant forced self-promotion to keep your head above water, I think that is the true core issue and I think that it's worth fighting for unified, as workers.