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frakkincylons) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
station722016-06-11 10:59 pm
frakkincylons) wrote in station722016-06-11 10:59 pm
( OPEN ) Concordia day 009-013 stuff yooo
CHARACTERS: Sam Anders + YOU
WHERE: Bearings, maybe other places as stuff comes up
WHEN: Day 009-013
SUMMARY: Sam gets his robo-prophet on + starts to investigate the clues he'd gotten + checks out the bombing thing idk. Also catch all for general other things. There's two things in here with Sam going hella Hybrid, and if that's confusing as fuck to you, check the description for it. It's weird, I'm sorry.
WARNINGS: some blood and ickiness bc hybrid state is creepy. will update as needed!
A) DAY 009 - TECHNO PROPHECY;
B) DAY 010 - POST BOOM;
C) DAY IDEFK - HACKITY HACK HACKING;
D) DAY 011-013 - RIDDLES AND STUFF;
WHERE: Bearings, maybe other places as stuff comes up
WHEN: Day 009-013
SUMMARY: Sam gets his robo-prophet on + starts to investigate the clues he'd gotten + checks out the bombing thing idk. Also catch all for general other things. There's two things in here with Sam going hella Hybrid, and if that's confusing as fuck to you, check the description for it. It's weird, I'm sorry.
WARNINGS: some blood and ickiness bc hybrid state is creepy. will update as needed!
A) DAY 009 - TECHNO PROPHECY;
[ in the dim of the Bearing's commons room, Sam's lounged back on the couch command center he and Angel had set up, with several monitors and more gadgets than they likely need. if it weren't for the fact he's talking, you'd likely take him as just sleeping with his eyes weirdly open. ]
Allocate processes to data stream and monitor, a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it. [ Sam's quiet, blank murmuring shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, by now. Maybe the new kids, but even those Sam's likely made sure to warn about his Hybrid ability, what it looks like, and why you should really take him seriously when he says "block me out for the next few minutes". It's, mentally, incredibly loud, and anyone going diving into his head during this, without a mind suited for it like Sam's, would only hear something like high pitched, ear-splitting ringing, and feeling like their skull is being cracked open with too, too much thought, before either bleeding from the ears, or passing out. could be both. if you've been in Bearings, you've gotten this warning already. It's a good idea to heed it. If not block him (he shouldn't be outright invading anyone that isn't his Brood), certainly don't go actively following his mind. And just... ignore the guy with a computer wire pushed up into a small cut at the palm of his hand, like he's literally plugged into the computer, rapidly babbling nonsense in a blank, emotionless tone. ] Initiate sequence in subgroup, longview of scan paths merged back in the stream that feeds the ocean that feeds the stream. Throughout history the nexus between man and machine has spun some of the most dramatic, compelling fiction - function steady, event null. The lines bleed, ink into threads and fibers. The world burns, then colors.
New paragraph. Inset. The flower inside the fruit that is both its parent and its child, [ This city brings back so much of Sam's life before. Going back through the recordings of what he'd said while in this state, he'd been surprised to find a few things he'd heard spoken by the other Hybrids, and himself, even, here and there. He supposed that makes sense, given the circumstances. ] Clusters within clusters create a network not yet examined, we are already one, 'and I think to myself, what a wonderful world'. Poison in the well - fire, water, and government know nothing of mercy. Transformation is the goal. Trace archival tangents, referencing topical patterns - innovation and ambition burning minds and souls with wildfire, balance at the pinnacle reaching for truth and perfection. They wage war on shadow, not substance. End of line.
A closed system lacks the ability to renew itself. As the sun's shadow shifts, so there is no permanence.
[ and then, an abrupt pause, like the air just just frozen inside his lungs. Where his head is leaned back against the head of the couch, Sam's chin tilts just slightly, eyelids blinking rapidly (the light of the monitor seeming to flicker in time with them). We found something. ]
...Abort function. New command. [ The pause settles a moment longer, and Sam looks like he's peering through the ceiling, through each level of the building, through the roof and out into the stars. Eventually, a gasp, like being dropped into a pool of ice water, and he starts up again, the same babbling trance, but something more fervent in it now. ] All the old ones gather from the temples in all corners, realities in wax paper layers, time is a circle, a line, a knot whispers the divine mother from four mouths and four faces. Dreams of holy cradle sweeping rustled leaves through circuitry and synthetic tissue, spark of life clinging to the edges and echoes of substance, a thread that holds the dam. The river cannot meet the ocean, the stream interrupted.
Realign. Realign. Realign.
All forces between two objects exist in equal magnitude and opposite direction, inertia is the natural tendency to resist changes in a state of motion. A gap, a reaction, a combustion - the newborn fields burning.
Sparks, and--
[ and he starts to scream. all one long, monotone note, but definitely something you'd call a scream, echoing back through all speakers and audio devices set up at the couch command center, like the room is shaking apart. The hand free of the wire connection seems to be making a visible struggle to make it over to where the cable enters his skin on the opposite arm, like pushing against an invisible force. when he finally reaches it, there's a quick jerk, pulling it free, and Sam goes completely limp, eyes lidded and vacant.
give him about 10 or so minutes, he'll be back. this is intermission. ]
B) DAY 010 - POST BOOM;
[ Like most curious citizens to when something big and exciting (and tragic) happens, Sam follows the masses that huddle outside the police line where the explosions too place, already scanning through extraspace for details on it, seeing theories pop up here and there. there's a sense of deep dread in him, bleeding out, as he goes. all of the night and day before, Sam had been scrambling, trying to figure out what he'd seen about an explosion in his Hybrid state meant. Where it would happen, how. He's gone skulking through Subspace, wanderings around the Data Banks, checked government buildings, and found nothing that narrowed it down. And then, the city shook with the shockwave of the explosion, and he'd known, in an instant, that time was up. stepping up, and looking over the heads of the city goers in front of him, Sam's eyes finally land on the wreckage, and it's like cold confirmation. ]
Frak me, this is it.
[ There's the distinct sense of failure in him, and he's chewing at the inside of a lip, as he absently scans the area. What frakking good is all this nonsense you get if you can't puzzle it out enough to help anyone in time, Sam? Do better. A few people shuffle past him, and Sam has the misfortune of hearing a comment about 'at least no one died', and wants to punch something. Someone died. Fifty someones died. If John wanted him to form a grudge against humanity, he should've sent him to Concordia as the only sentient droid. ]
Gods. Okay. [ Turning back, he's squinting more at the crowd and the officers, now, than the wreckage, and trying to figure out what's the best way to make something out of this. Reaching out to any of the others from the Nest close enough to hear him, especially those at the site, he's mentally brainstorming possible ways forward - ] ( So there's the three injured witnesses, right? They'll be swarmed with cops and press. Do we have anyone with a power that could get to them? Reports said 50 synthetics were kil-- scrapped. But if there's any that weren't completely totaled, maybe we can try to get some kind of drive from them, see if we can fix it. Anyone know where the robot graveyard is? )
[ haha...ha... it's probably a landfill or a junkyard trash pile and he knows it. gods, he hates this planet. ]
C) DAY IDEFK - HACKITY HACK HACKING;
[ It's been a week and a half, and since Angel's initial network flagging, Sam's tried to keep himself aggressively under the radar, using his Hybrid state to surf for information and rapidly compile it, but not for any kind of forcible infiltration. Today's the day. The initial idea is to try getting the attention of someone within EXTRAAA, as they're the ones who seem to have the capability to get to the information he and Angel just aren't familiar enough with the world to sneak to. Who seem to have been doing it for a while, now. Tracing any down the old fashioned way had been a bust - after all, they're very legitimate criminals here, given how serious cyber crime is taken. So, this is more the Do Their Job For Them And See If They Say Thanks idea. Maybe. Sort of. We'll see how it goes.
He'd picked on of the targets EXTRAAA seemed to be after - not too high profile, not terribly low profile either. Somewhere in the middle. He goes as far as he can the old fashioned way - two hands and what he's learned from Anakin and Angel - and then he's letting out a slow exhale, and giving another warning shout to the level at large to wall up their minds form him again. tugging off the bandage over a small cut on the heel of his palm (which is going to be a really ugly scar, after a while), Sam starts to press a thin, network cable inside the wound, and about three inches up his wrist, beneath the skin. it's really, really gross. After a moment or so of heavy blinking, and sinking back against the couch, every inch of him seems to go sharply rigid, like something else just took possession of his body, the same monotone babbling starting up again. ]
Initiate breach with simulated parameters, traced patterns and a slowed forgery - machine plays human plays machine plays human. Conquer; but conquer to your cost. I know, utters the fool, be quick, be quiet. End of line. [ apparently he can now argue with himself like this. great. the rapidly shifting display on the monitor in front of him starts to slow, however. still fast, but something that seems more human. leave no traces, but if you do, make them inconspicuous traces. he'd spent the last week and a half in Bearings looking through sites and forums on network and database hacking, and the Hybrid side of him seemed to always have a window of it open somewhere, teaching itself. Heuristics is part of a functioning AI, after all. The mimicry is likely not perfect, but attempted, at least. Narrowed down to what can be done with one set of hands on one keyboard. ]
Moss over rocks, coral on a reef, life weaves and weaves and the city sprawls, feeds into itself and into itself and back into creation. Tunnels like ants, the lower levels crush and collapse under the weight of chariots driven above. Dragons guarding piles of gold with sharp minds, brave hearts, ruthless claws, cracking and splintering, backs broken. A boot clamped on top of a skull blocks the sky. Structure of lead, strict and rigid, black poison and ink corruption in the veins along the tiers of our fair city, the machine of production shovels out riches into the hands that favor the chosen. [ a blink of a pause, and the flickering screen seems to slow and complete the process. ] The fortress falls, sweep footprints from the snow with broken, brittle branches. End of--
[ His focus seems to falter, a rapid blink, and something is added on, like an amendment, before completing. ]
A star eyed son, a prophet in the counting house, a hand made of scars. The shepherd wears a crown of diamonds. End of line.
[ Aaand, unplug. Again, give him a minute or so to be a vegetable, and eventually, he'll be blinking back into consciousness, giving himself a quick shake, and then leaning forward to peer at the screen again, squinting around and trying to get as much from the database he's broken into as he can, as quickly as he can, before getting the hell out of there. Also, he remembers nothing of what he just said (he'll playback a recording later), so maybe telling him in a moment or so would be a good idea. ]
D) DAY 011-013 - RIDDLES AND STUFF;
[ This is probably the most intense Sam's been in the last week - sitting cross legged on the couch, a notepad in his lap and a pencil scrawling all over what seems like the fifth page, as a recording of what sounds like himself speaking utter nonsense playing from the computer in front of him. He's been recording himself anytime he goes into Hybrid state, and taking notes on bites and pieces that sound important, and today he's gone back through it, start to finish, because there's finally seeming to be something of substance in it.
His notes are a bit confusing, a scribbling of a lot of different phrases, some puzzled out, some not, but generally information relative to Concordia ((assume anything in what the mods gave is in some form recorded in his notes)). Frowning, he's chewing at the end of his pen, and mumbling-thinking outloud. ]
" A star eyed son, a prophet in the counting house, and a hand made of scars." Counting house, that's like... an accounting firm, right? Like operations for a business? Maybe a bank? ...Databanks? Or one of the corporations. Do they do their own accounting, or do they hire out? [ In any of those options, he still has no idea who he'd search out a prophet buried in there. Unless they just stood outside, with their ledger, proclaiming the End Times. Moving on. ] Star eyed son. Who important has a son? Or is a son? ...Every male in the frakking city, great, good job, Anders, way to puzzle that one out.
[ Sam's really starting to hate... himself. His Hybrid-self, because Gods, could we not just say something straight for once? With a huff, he flips the page, moving on to yet another point. ]
Whatever. Okay, four faced divinity, that's... [ some scrambling through notes here, pen held between his teeth like a cigarette. ] Lirinity. 'Goddess of four aspects; mother, daughter, world and self. Found in everything from the natural world to the man-made'. Huh. Sounds nice. So maybe the prophet we're looking for... is a Lirinitian? A Lirinitian accountant?
[ Very specific. Super helpful. ]
Hey. [ You. In the kitchen, or headed to the bathroom, or just coming in from the elevator, or minding your own business somewhere across the room. You. ] You any good at riddles? Or cryptic crap?
never apologize dude
People are people. No matter what defines a person, they all strive to live, survive, to be able to live with some selfishness in the face of adversity. Everything he says makes an odd sort of sense, not just because of the chip in her brain (though that certainly helps), but because of what she's learned here, in the Station, and what she imagines that she will continue to learn.]
Death is never the end, [she says, the words simple in their delivery. She focuses on the screen for a moment.] People are foolish to think otherwise. Your wife was wise to recognize this, to know what needed to be done for your people. [Lexa imagines that there was a bit of feet dragging there, too. It'd make sense.
As for the deliver of it all, she pauses, considering her next words, and then proceeds:]
But like all things, something that seems like the possibility for a new beginning can be lost in translation. I believe that may be what's happening. Death, like a jumble of information thrown together, sounds muddled, like muck. It would be ominous and uncertain. [And sound a bit dangerous, or a bit destructive.
So, she thinks it makes perfect sense.
If the Flame were designed so that all the commanders had control and lived on, how would they be able to abide by one another's wishes?
They couldn't.]
ffff tyty ;;
Yeah. Well, Kara had a way about her. When she decided something needed doing, it'd take a frakking armada and then some to stop her.
[ Maybe that's why it had to be her. Maybe because it would be her, that was why she had to grown into the woman she'd be. Chicken or egg, which is first, etc etc. In the end, it doesn't really matter. But on the subject of Conchordian - ]
Of course. Change is a constant, and it's something people naturally fear. They're also on the verge of making new life, and for many people, that's a responsibility they're uncomfortable with, or something they think is wrong. [ Unnatural. Only the Gods can create life. It's only made of metal and circuitry and coding, how can it be the same as we are. All that. ]
It's hard for humanity to look at something they constructed with their hands, wrote the programming for, and call it anything but theirs. Something they can turn on and off when they like. [ And in the infancy of what the synthetics on this world are, that's exactly it. Life, people, completely at the mercy of humanity's whims. ]
They feel like they can't assign a soul to that.
no subject
But what is clear is that there is limitations to some of the life she's seen within the data banks that they intend to upload about the people who lived. They can't just be information saved to a file like words to a piece of paper. They have to be able to be malleable, like Judtia said. Malleability is the most important part.
She agrees that change is difficult. She knows it all too well. It's for that reason that she's come to terms with the fact that if her world ever finds peace after Clarke does what she needs to do (if things should go in the same direction in her absence, she doesn't know if it will), her people might still rely on their old ways.]
no subject
They're slaves, most of them are living in fear, but it only takes so long for fear to become anger, and then action. [ And how can you blame them? What would humanity do, in the same position? What would any form of self-aware life, with feelings and desires and dreams and fears do? ]
The life they've created here, whether the humans like it or not, are people, and they can't take that back. [ The technology's been introduce, you can't unintroduce it. That's just the fact of the matter. Someone, somewhere, will reproduce it, and wiping out the remaining AIs would be genocide. Genocide the next generation will, inevitable, learn about, and feel rightfully threatened by. ] So the real question you're asking is 'should people be enslaved'.
no subject
Still, it makes her wonder how their enemy benefits from it. Why should the enslavement continue?]
Have you found anything that tells you why they're so certain they have to keep them enslaved? [she asks.] Or is the answer to be found in your words?
no subject
[ It isn't just that, though. Not that Sam thinks. There hasn't been a single violent crime done by an android here that he's seen history from thus far. It's so, so easy to look around this planet and see Caprica, before the bombs. Earth, before the war. 'This has all happened before and it will all happen again'. ]
A guess from my experience? Convenience. That's what you make tech for - making chores and daily annoyances easier. And, fear. Thinking something you'd liken to a vacuum cleaner or a car could have identity and feelings and morality is a hard thing for people to get their heads around. Scary thing, when you start letting them run free and trust they'll act like humans do. [ And that's the crux of it - humans only have the definition of humanity. Either you are like humans, or you are something lesser, because that's how they understand the world. When you're something that runs on coding, they can accept that there's a soul there, and if there's no soul, they can't call it human, and they can't call it life, and if it isn't life they can't trust it. ] Back on Caprica, before we understood anything about them, how they'd evolved, we used to call them 'toasters'. And the ones with organic bodies 'skin jobs'.
[ 'we', but then he didn't realize he wasn't really part of that 'we', still thinking he'd been human, that he'd lived on Picon and Caprica for a couple decades and change. didn't know the centurians and cylons he was blowing up and gunning down were practically his children. ]
Guess it takes a catastrophe to reach a middle ground, sometimes.
no subject
They're making a mistake. [That goes without saying. Lexa pauses as she gathers her words.] The longer they prevent the androids from evolving, the more likely they will cause violence when they are finally set free. This is a chance for unity, and they're failing it.
[Still ... still ...]
Do you know if there is some way that you can connect to the androids in this city? To bypass their programming in some way? [Her question is one that unfortunately comes from a place of ignorance. She doesn't know the answer personally.]
no subject
There is a way to connect to them and-- [ sam pauses, a bit sheepish, because it was kind of an invasion of privacy, but he needed to know. ] I already did it.
[ it's how he'd learned about the block in the first place, along with other pieces of android culture that aren't so relevant to the conversation. no one's acting like they're about to start a coup, at least, so that's something. ]
But I can't reprogram them. Not all of them, anyway. If you mean removing the block, maybe, but doing it with even one of them would probably flag me for cyber crime. [ besides that likely exposing the rest of the Hosts to the locals, they'll probably figure out real fast that Sam isn't human. There's a spike of something like fear that jumps in the back of Sam's mind, underneath all the calm and chill that he's typically settled in. Humanity and Cylons both were equal in the cruelty they visit on things they don't deem their equals, when researching to further there race. He'd be pulled apart like a lab rat under a microscope. ]
no subject
As much as I wish it were an option, force can't be met with force. I believe we'd be able to risk the cyber crime. We're not citizens of this world. [Though they would have to prepare for that in advance. She's fairly certain they can probably manage that, especially if they can have a whole big business made up for them.]
But it's the force that would make it seem like we're a threat. Our enemies would capitalize on it.
no subject
[ Meaning, they'd have to get to the other, more protected droids eventually, and the city would know, and more than that, they'd know how he did it. Which is the larger problem for him specifically here. ]
My data signature doesn't really look human. So. If a human sees it, chances are they'll come looking anyway. [ and he didn't derail from sailing into the sun just to die here, thanks. once they find him, it won't be long before they find the rest of the Nest. then, entire operation blown, and all of them imprisoned or worse. citizen or not, what they're trying to accomplish is governmental sabotage. ]
no subject
Are you certain there isn't a network involved? Not everyone supports the anti-synthetic movement, so there would be some who would break the law if given the opportunity.
[Quite simply, she finds is hard to believe that they could track everything here.]
no subject
[
companion quest, yo.one of the actually native AIs, who's seen all of this, been connecting to it all, and isn't afraid to speak their mind any longer could be highly beneficial. especially if they're going to have to prove, later, that synthetic life is as much "human" as any organic. ]But altering something that's a governmental standard like that - we'd have to make sure we could keep that AI safe in the mean time.
no subject
They would have to give up their life, though. If what they live now can even be called that.
no subject
We can offer them the choice, try to convince them it's for the betterment of things here. But I'm not doing it unless they consent. [ it's completely reasonable to want to just continue existing without trouble, and sam won't force this on anyone who doesn't want it. it's a risk, a huge one, and if they push it on them that makes them just as much slavers as the humans. ]
no subject
It's odd to her that this world could be progressing forward, but have such a stubborn stopping point.]
OH GDI FORGOT WHICH THREAD THIS WAS FJKDLSHJGLAS
[ hell, the war that had destroyed Earth - his Earth, the first Earth - had been Cylon against Centurions. if that doesn't prove humanity and synthetic life are practically the same, he doesn't know what does. so, funny in a way that's not really funny at all. just sad. ] It was a physical piece, made our of metal and wires and circuity, and it just... had to be taken out.
When it's hardware like that, you can't sabotage it with a virus or by screwing with the programming - that's the advantage of it.