[ Both? no, not really. Not like how Hera is both, and how the new Earth will be made so indistinguishable that people forget what was human and what was human made. That's the point of it, after all.
What he is... hell, not even Sam's really sure what he is most days. What to define it as. ] I was biologically born with an organic body to two organic Cylon parents. Cylons were the race of artificial intelligence created by man, in my universe.
[ it feels like he's making a lot of disclaimers there for but i'm basically almost human, and part of Sam feels a little lame for that. But after being on the other side of looking at human shaped Cylons, he knows how hard it is to make AI come to terms with Life in a human mind. ] For about ten years, I was convinced I was just normal human. Got some memories back, and turns out, not so much. But--
[ holding up his left arm, there's been a bandage wrapped over the heel of his palm and wrist for just about every day since the night he'd told the others in his brood to close off from him. the cut that he's been reopening every time he needs to plug in, for the past few weeks. probably not the greatest, or most healthy way, but he's at least been obsessive with antiseptic. unraveling the bandage, he's showing steve the cut there, and the scabbed blood that's attempting to heal over it now. ]
I breathe, I bleed, I eat, I sleep. Fear, joy, anxiety, love. I know all that. I was a captain of a pro sports team, and I had a wife, and I had friends.
[ "the point where you're not sure if you can call a machine a machine and a human and a human." it's something he thinks about every day, now. ]
no subject
[ Both? no, not really. Not like how Hera is both, and how the new Earth will be made so indistinguishable that people forget what was human and what was human made. That's the point of it, after all.
What he is... hell, not even Sam's really sure what he is most days. What to define it as. ] I was biologically born with an organic body to two organic Cylon parents. Cylons were the race of artificial intelligence created by man, in my universe.
[ it feels like he's making a lot of disclaimers there for but i'm basically almost human, and part of Sam feels a little lame for that. But after being on the other side of looking at human shaped Cylons, he knows how hard it is to make AI come to terms with Life in a human mind. ] For about ten years, I was convinced I was just normal human. Got some memories back, and turns out, not so much. But--
[ holding up his left arm, there's been a bandage wrapped over the heel of his palm and wrist for just about every day since the night he'd told the others in his brood to close off from him. the cut that he's been reopening every time he needs to plug in, for the past few weeks. probably not the greatest, or most healthy way, but he's at least been obsessive with antiseptic. unraveling the bandage, he's showing steve the cut there, and the scabbed blood that's attempting to heal over it now. ]
I breathe, I bleed, I eat, I sleep. Fear, joy, anxiety, love. I know all that. I was a captain of a pro sports team, and I had a wife, and I had friends.
[ "the point where you're not sure if you can call a machine a machine and a human and a human." it's something he thinks about every day, now. ]