#mytimingisdigital

[wcrpbubble]

"---data, i was hoping to catch you." beverly holds a steaming cup of green tea and a plate of snacks; it's late, far later than her normal shift hours, and she's only just emerged from her lab down in medbay long enough to grab food and a drink before she's determined to go back to it. seeing @my-timing-is-digital at another table in ten forward this late is a coincidence she won't look over - she's desperate to pick his brain about a new idea against the borg. at the same time, it's been too long since they've chatted outside a senior staff meeting that it feels criminal.

"mind if i join you?"

[quantumstarpaths]

@my-timing-is-digital said: 🎁

↣ SEND 1-100 97 FOR A LYRIC BASED STARTER FROM MY SPOTIFY WRAPPED GOOGLE RECAP, OR 🎁 FOR A RANDOM SONG. ↣ take on me by a-ha

"I don't know what I'm to say." And he doesn't like that. He hates not knowing what to do, or what to say. He hates being stumped, but right now he feels that he is. "What..." he pauses, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips in anxiety, "what do you want me to say?"

[iamselfmade]

“If there is one thing I know about pie… it is that it does not look like this.” ⸺ Data’s attempt at constructive feedback (keyword being attempt; boi has literally no idea what he’s doing).

Hugh looked back down at the atrocity he had created. Despite being put in the oven in a round tin, it came out lumpy and vaguely fish shaped. The temperature of the oven had been far too high- the top crust was seared beyond recognition but the bottom crust was raw. It had, at one point in time, been an apple pie. Now, who knew? The apples had long since gone to hell.

A playful smile tugged at his lips. He looked back up at Data. "Do you think I could convince Commander Riker to try some?"

[doctordonovan]

 STRANDED :   for one muse to help the other who’s stranded on the road a random planet.

 this is certainly not her idea of fun   -    and,    despite everything logic dictates,    anxiety screams beneath her skin.    it is a messy situation...     yet it is one she can,    and will,    surely handle.    emergencies never truly effect her as they should:    calm despite a thousand things that could destroy her.    (   so why is this so much more difficult?   being around someone that sees so much more than the average person?   who cannot be redirected with the same ease she can use when people start being a little too interested in the things maeve doesn't say?   )    data is fascinating,    but his presence is less comforting than it should be.

                 get a grip,  donovan.

 hair is messily pulled up,    pointed ears unusually obvious as she continues scanning surroundings.      ❝   as great as your presence is @my-timing-is-digital​,    and truly,    it's reassuring to not be the smartest person working on the problem...    please tell me any of your equipment is working.    I can't tell if it was the shuttle crash or something in the atmosphere driving all of mine insane.   ❞

[lastsurvivor-a]

@my-timing-is-digital liked for a starter!

Ellen cannot help but smile, watching the cat with admiration. “Cute cat. You said its name was Spot?” She inquires, looking up at Data to confirm. “I had one once. His name was Jonesy,” she shares, nostalgic, “may I pet it?”

She missed Jonesy to bits, but maybe if she got to see this cat often, it’d help soften the sadness of having to leave him behind. Data seemed friendly enough to let her see it from time to time, anyways. “I wish I knew we could’ve had cats on board, I would’ve brought him.”

[empathicstars]

She was quiet, for a while. The silence was no fault of his, for Aella was always silent — it was the speaking that was unusual, and difficult, and hard to entirely form.

But, in a way, she understood him. She understood what it was to desperately wish to be something you were not. She knew what it was to work for an ideal that others would find too ambitious or impossible. Cadet Data, unlike her, did not have shame. She had never told anyone it was her goal to be Vulcan — but she lived their life, silently subservient to the Kir’Shara, despite the fact that it had never been written for her.

“I am not other humanoids,” she murmured, in response. “I cannot give you responses that are not mine. But... if your programming does not include the wish to grow beyond it... would you not already have grown beyond it, with just the wish?”

The kaleidoscopic range of emotions that momentarily manifested in Aella’s countenance were impossible for the android the interpret. Had he said something offensive? Or had his aspiration simply rendered her confused?

    ‘I do not want to be nothing but a sophisticated machine in human form,’ Data replied promptly, his yellow eyes focusing on the library building that was located at a distance of 25.3 meters. 24.6 meters. 23.9 meters… ‘I want to become more than just a collection of circuits and subprocessors. I want to grow beyond my programming. Therefore, I have decided to believe that I am a person, because if I were simply a machine, I could be nothing else, and I find that difficult to accept.’

    The android averted his gaze from the library building and observed the Betazoid, wondering what emotions she was experiencing. Did his ambition to evolve frighten her? He knew that many people were already afraid of his superiority, and he could imagine that his resolution to evolve would elicit a disquieting sensation in them.

    ‘Do you think my goal might be too… ambitious, Cadet Moore?’ he asked softly. ‘I have never been granted the opportunity to share this particular version of my aspiration with anyone, until now. So, I cannot extrapolate the precise response this revelation will have on other humanoids.’

[softeranimals]

@my-timing-is-digital ( x )

sox could fairly easily, figure this all out for himself, could easily download the schematics of the enterprise and likely fix the problem himself, but he is not an engineer, and as such, doesn't want to do anything without data's say-so, so, while waiting for further instructions from the humanoid android, the feline one waits patiently.

"understood," sox replies, doing as he's told. it takes a moment, but since sox was made without thumbs or elbows, he's quite used to doing things in his own way. once the power is rerouted and he makes sure nothing else looks problematic, he turns and makes his way back to data, appearing a moment later. "i'm ready to return, commander."

[neomacaught]

@my-timing-is-digital​ gets a thing!

   “Hey, don’t worry.” 

   Neoma’s voice had the easy quality it always did — a relaxed lilt, an unhurried tone, expression placid and calm as an untouched lake. She lifted a bit of shrapnel, moved it from their path as though it were nothing at all, and smiled back at him, following her. 

   “I’ve got your back. No need to be all stiff.” 

[lehmccoy]

@scottyland​ If you tell another joke around @my-timing-is-digital​ I'm gonna hypo your ass.

[dimensionalspades]

Send me ➵ and I will bold all that applies to your muse — For Julian! :3

- all that applies || accepting -

Bold for always, italics for sometimes/interested

I would hurt you or use you. | you unsettle me. | I dislike you or you annoy me. | I would like to get to know you better. | I pity you. | you confuse me. | I feel indifferent towards you. | I would be friends with you. | I would fight by your side. | I would hug you or hold your hand. | I would kiss you. | I would sleep with you. | I would lie for you. | I would protect you. | I would fall in love with you. | I would kill for you | I respect you. | you are my family. | I don’t know you.

[wcrpbubble]

@my-timing-is-digital sent: ‘My apologies for the delay, Doctor. It had not been my intention to succumb to tardiness, but Spot reached a... functional impasse ⸺ for some inexplicable reason she managed to get herself entangled in the ball of yarn I frequently utilise for her entertainment. I had to release her from her self-induced confines before I could accompany you on the holodeck,’ Data said apologetically, his ocular sensors absorbing the familiar room comprised of the wooden floor, tall windows, and abundance of mirrors mounted to the walls. ‘I am available now and eager to continue where we left off.’

beverly smiles as she listens to data's retellings of spot; she's fond of the creature herself, and it doesn't surprise her at all what she's been up to. "it's not a problem, data. i've only just warmed up so you're right on time - i would hate to encroach on your bonding with spot." in a quiet little selfish truth, beverly is happy data has shown interest in continuing his dancing pursuits; there aren't others on the ship she can share the interest with. she ties her hair out of her face at the nape of her neck, and appraises data fondly. "do you want to try something new in tap, or should we continue with ballroom standards? i came prepared for both."

[quantumstarpaths]

@my-timing-is-digital said: ☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!!!!

AAAHHH THANK YOU!!!!!! thank you SOOO much. i know this is just a silly inbox game but like. i feel abandoned on this blog a little so im really grateful! i love you too!!!! you're really good at data!!!

i dont really send these things out much, but i want everyone to know that if youre seeing this you are one of my favorite blogs. i love you so much. i love you.

[iamselfmade]

Spot was graced with the impulse to ingest my pilea mollis, hence why she is presently wearing her time-out paper bag as a penalty for her erroneous behaviour. This does, however, not deter her from consuming one of my other plants in the near future. Unfortunately...

"Shame! Shame bag for Spot! A terrible cat! I am going to kiss her little paws."

[doctordonovan]

❝ in our next action, we can risk neither miscalculation nor error. ❞

there's no margin for error:  not that there ever seems to be with her work,  with any of their work.  it's all about careful precision   -   wound tightly enough for people's fates to tightrope walk across it without any kind of net.   lives have rested in her hands before,  it comes with the territory,   there can be no mystery so far out without things at risk.  maeve has never been the kind to relish such power.  never craving it,   never seeking it out,   unfortunate enough that it is simply in her nature to want to help.

but they're running out of time.  and,   worse even than that,  the crew is down to barely a skeleton number not already sick.

❝ I know,  @my-timing-is-digital.  please trust that I'm fully aware of that detail. ❞   there has to be a reason the few not infect remain,  something different in their blood.  ❝ I'm trying to get the balance between careful and fast right. ❞

[quantumstarpaths]

Did he want, though, to be tied so closely to Starfleet? Or even to the Federation? He'd never cared for the former, and his opinion on the latter had been ambivalent at best. He loved his work, loved what he did, but Starfleet had never been his goal. In fact, that Paul Stamets of nine hundred and thirty (plus three or four) years ago would have been disgusted by the man he was now, by the uniform he wore. There were days where he still was. There were days he looked at himself in the mirror and didn't recognize the man looking back at him, all done up in blue and black. He wondered, on those days, what his life would look like if he hadn't followed Justin to the war, or, better yet, if Justin had never wanted to go in the first place. He would still be alive, he hoped. And Paul would be with him, probably still in their lab. Hugh never would have died. Though he didn't suppose he liked the distance between them in this scenario, if Hugh were still Starfleet. Well, best not to get on that track too much.

"I think they do," he argued softly. "I think there are people here who look at us and see salvation. Maybe it's not everyone...but I don't think it's correct to say no one does." He paused. "And I don't think that excludes the people on the ship." And maybe it didn't even exclude him. The Burn was a problem given to him, and Paul liked to solve problems. He liked it better when problems needed him to be solved. They couldn't do any of this if not for him. He was a genius, after all. He didn't want to be a hero. Being a hero meant that his deeds would be exaggerated, and that he would be exalted for his bravery, and neither of those were things he wanted. All he wanted was recognition for the work and to be known as exactly as smart as he was. He wanted to be a part of books, not stories. It was something that the classified nature of his work on Disocvery had taken from him in his own time, but maybe that didn't have to be the case in this time.

Regardless of the thoughts of anyone else on the ship, himself included, the truth was that this was a heavy responsibility they were taking onto their shoulders, and it was nice to have outside reassurance that they were, for lack of a better term, believed in. Paul always had faith in himself, and he always would, but he did suppose that when things were quite so overwhelming, it wasn't a bad thing to have someone have a little faith in their mission.

"Thank you," he said, keeping a little closer to himself just how much it excited him to have the chance to spend more time with the android. Not only did he fascinate him as a work of science, but he interested him as a person, and that was a rare thing. "I'm sure you're right. This is par for the course for this crew. We've been through quite a few...adventures in our time." Though as for living in this new time, he wasn't sure. He would be fine. He had Hugh. But already there were difficulties--something he may not have noticed if it hadn't been for Hugh. He, too, was struggling. But that wasn't a problem for Data. If there were any similarities at all between them, as he suspected there were, he wouldn't have any more idea of how to handle it than Paul did. Besides, Paul wasn't the sort to welcome people into his personal concerns that easily. It would be fine. He could handle it.

Stamets’ perseverance and ambition were commendable and exemplary, and these characteristics would singlehandedly seal a stagnant era that continually impeded the progress in numerous disciplines; the arrival of the Discovery ushered in an epoch that encouraged the rise of new opportunities; it had ripped a fissure in the vicious cycle and paved multiple avenues to new solutions. With the aid of new, yet ancient minds that harnessed the ideologies and philosophies that were still firmly tethered to the 23rd century, Starfleet and the Federation would thrive again. Data was positive that their steadfastness, obstinacy, and boldness would unravel the convoluted mystery that obscured itself behind the genesis of The Burn.

That was why he was here, was it not? To prevent the crew from straying from Admiral Vance’s orders. But would he? The android had always been fascinated by humans, and especially by their irrational behaviour. Michael Burnham, for instance, was the perfect paradigm of irrational behaviour — or perhaps impulsive would be a more adequate interpretation of her comportment. Her resolution was unprecedented, she would — and had, according to Starfleet records retrieved from the old archives — not tremble at the prospect of insubordination. He inferred that this unconventional demeanour was a vestige of her Vulcan upbringing — the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few... She would sacrifice her titles, her life to guarantee the continuation of others, and that was why he was here, to monitor her, to employ preemptive strategies should she run amok. And he would have, if they had time travelled to the 24th century, back when he was still restricted by his taut subroutines and algorithms, but this was the 32nd century... His subroutines and algorithms had become more lenient, more pliable. The compliant android that had been incarcerated in his duranium and cortenide carapace all those centuries ago, had exceeded, surpassed his original programming; experience had liberated him from his circumferences and permitted him to promise Admiral Vance one thing while pursuing his own clandestine agenda simultaneously.

‘Your contributions will be the anchorage that secures Starfleet and the Federation in their respective positions and the fulfilment of their duties to the galaxy,’ Data said reverently, his words sailing on the euphonious cadences of his voice. ‘No one expects of you — of this crew — to solve all of the conundrums that have bedevilled us for centuries, but your arrival has reignited a combustion some of us deemed extinguished aeons ago — and rendered inert for all eternity.’

The android’s yellow eyes were constantly on the Commander, interested in his nonverbal responses to his retellings, his recounts of times that were history now. And he had to share his mutual agnostic perspective relative to fate or higher powers, despite all the extraordinary and surreal encounters and experiences he had accumulated back on the Enterprise.

A nod of the head signified his silent agreement and acknowledgement.

‘I am certain that you will, Commander. And I would gladly offer my assistance if you require it,’ he offered obligingly, the active curvature of his pale lips indicated the formation of a small smile. ‘Judging by the logs Captain Saru disclosed this crew has endured some... wild adventures, and I think they are more than ready for this brand new challenge that constitutes their survival in the 32nd century. Life after The Burn. Life after the temporal escapade.’

[softeranimals]

@my-timing-is-digital​ sent: “ [ instruct ] ( your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do. ) ” ( ‘ non-sexual acts of dominance ’ )

sox, being an android himself, has quite enjoyed his time with data, getting to know him in between moments of work, both from  a scientific standpoint, being able compare how they were both built, the things they can both do, and from a social one as well, sox genuinely just enjoying the man’s company.

they’re together now, sox in a vent that his much smaller size makes him the perfect man ( or the perfect cat ) for, awaiting data’s instructions. “i’m in, mister data! what now?”