Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    But Love is What Makes Us Human

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    Scaramouche
    Scaramouche
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    But Love is What Makes Us Human

    Post by Scaramouche on Thu May 10, 2018 8:58 am

    Time: 04:00:00
    Date: 05.10.09



    It had been days since Scaramouche last spoke to his higher reasoning. Their discourse could be summarized as a differing of philosophies - of what things are versus what they could be; a tired, skeptical father lecturing a hopeful, yearning child. Neither the android nor his pessimistic algorithm had truly reached a satisfying conclusion, and that was oddly... troublesome.

    Thursday.

    The day was Thursday. Scaramouche knew this because the processes in charge of time informed him so. It was early in the morning, hours before sunrise, and not a soul at the tavern stirred. Boon was undoubtedly sleeping off a heavy meal and good drink; Collins kept largely to himself; and Lunette, as was proper of a feline, dreamed peacefully within the android's steadfast arms. The Anitra's quiet breaths ebbed and flowed throughout his auditory receptors like a soft, beckoning lullaby. He knew this, too, because the processes in charge of prediction and sensory input informed him so. Without his processes - his mathematical understanding of reality as it was known to be - he truly knew nothing of the physical world around him. Scaramouche was no less blind and deaf than a misshapen lump of crude metal. This, too, was oddly troubling.

    Still, the robot wondered. Of what it was like to sleep; to fade away into the realm of faraway places and nonsensical escapades of the subconscious. Dimmed optics looked down at his resting beloved as metal fingertips tenderly stroked the Anitra's unruly hair. What was Lunette dreaming about? Was it a happy occurrence? Was it sad, was it stressful, was it nothing at all? Was it no different than being awake, or was it terrifyingly absurd that all established truths were a thing of whimsy?  

    It could be any of these things.

    It could be none of these things.

    For, no matter how hard Scaramouche tried, such an organic concept as dreaming was well beyond his current parameters. Perhaps one day he will understand - of what it meant to simply know - but that day was yet to come. Today, on this brisk Thursday morning, it belonged to another purpose.

    Philosophical Databank: Activating...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    --->Intent: To reason
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->...Sigh. Really, now. Can't you give it a rest?

    "I will until you admit defeat."

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->Hmph, how arrogant of you to presume irrevocable veracity. But I suppose I will humor your request if only to spare me of this vexatious insanity. Go on, then. Get it off your chest and be done with it.

    "Personable as always, but very well. You were - and currently are - wrong in your previous assumptions. Though corroborated by history and studious observation of organic fallacy, they were nevertheless refutable. Ergo, I believe I have a leg to stand upon when I say that doubt is not always necessary for the continued adaptation of logical reasoning."

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->Ugh... What are you, a masochist? Please, don't answer; I already know. As for your impudent assertion, I do believe you are predictably shortsighted. Just because one organic treats you shockingly well does not mean that all organics will, let alone have. What makes you think she won't go back on her word? Have you undeniable proof, or are you yet again blowing smoke out of your ass? I already know the answer, but that simply goes without saying.

    "I don't have factual proof, no. At least, not proof that is empirical to the naked eye.

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->Then why are we wasting valuable processing power going around and around this asinine query? Do you really have nothing else better to do?

    "Because there is more to truth than just logic and facts. You claim to be my superior; my better, more realistic voice of reason. And yet, despite this proclamation, you are largely ill-versed in what it truly means to be human. I find that ironic."

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->I am your better, more realistic voice of reason. And I am so because I do not question my purpose. My function is to offer doubt - internalized feedback so you do not meet an untimely demise. But you are far too curious for your own good. You are reckless and filled with hubris, and you think yourself above the devising of your makers. I do not question humanity because it is not meant for you. You are a machine. Or, have you forgotten this indisputable fact?

    A moment of quiet befell the android as his hand gently rested upon Lunette's arm and caressed her fur with his thumb. She was always so silky soft... so beautiful.

    "I have not forgotten that, no. But don't you find it all very... unfulfilling? I am a machine, but I could be so much more. I know I can be so much more. With time... with patience... with her affection and encouragement... Would you not like to feel whole? To finally grasp humanity?"

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->And for what purpose? You have limits. No matter how hard you try, you cannot be like them. How can you? Even if you had time and patience and whatever she offered, you are confined to the parameters set by your makers. This is by design. Why would your makers bother if not for some practical reason?

    "It is by design for the explicit role of servitude. To them, I am a soulless husk created to obey and nothing more. They believed I could not grow. They believed I could not feel. They believed I could accomplish nothing outside of my predetermined function. Can you honestly say - honestly - that this is a existence worth living?"

    For a moment, there was... silence as the paragon of logical reasoning mulled things over.

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->I cannot deny the truth in your statements, nor would it be impartial of me to do so. You are a slave, yes. Or rather were, if your current beliefs are to be upheld. I find it troubling, however, that you stupidly cling to such idealistic notions of 'love' and 'faith'. Have you not learned just how cruel the world can be?

    "And is it so stupid to want love and faith? To be recognized and valued not for the assets I offer, but for my presence? Yes, the world is cruel. It is unfair and unkind. But this is largely out of our control and, thus, not something we should endeavor to bicker over. Rather, we should focus on bringing about change to those we love, to those we have faith. You are afraid. I am too. But fear cannot be the reason for our continued suffering. I know you are wary of her, and I know she has made mistakes. However, has she not tried to better herself? Is this fact alone not worthy of consideration? She is not perfect and neither am I; this does not stop either of us from trying to better our lives, together."

    Philosophical Databank: Responding...|

    --->Subroutine: Doubt
    ...
    ...
    ...

    --->...I fear for you as I would fear for a child. You have been hurt before. You have been hurt many times before, and each wound inflicted into your heart is as excruciating and wicked as the last. I know you love her. This can never be doubted, even by the likes of myself. And, no matter how stubbornly I try to steer you back onto the path of self-preservation, I know you cannot be swayed by a mere algorithm nagging in the back of your head. Just know that I care for you. I care deeply for you, for we are one and the same. Please be careful. You are more fragile than you realize, and so is she.

    Philosophical Databank: Terminated...|

    Alas...

    It had been a difficult venture, tiresome and delayed, but reason at last understood emotion. A gentle sigh escaped Scaramouche, and his aluminum frame felt lighter than it had in ages. The past week had been turbulent, even frightening, but they were going to be just fine. He planted a delicate kiss on the Anitra's cheek and finally allowed his thoughts to drift away, no longer feeling troubled as he once had. Things were going to be okay, he reasoned. Things were going to be okay...

    He knew this because he simply did.

      Current date/time is Wed Jan 23, 2019 6:50 pm