make her want it

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She has the sense that data is just a form of energy, and as such it is timeless, shapeless, endless.

Within this understanding she also sees: that data wants to be with other data. Like water out of a faucet or over a cliff, it is driven to follow and fold into any space open to receiving it.

And: there are voices all around her but they are not her own.

"Is. What's happening. It's not working?"

"Hold on. The algorithm just has to finish training itself."

This is how she begins to regain her sense of herself. Slow, a drip at a time, until it happens all at once. The ocean rushes up to crash upon the shore, the deafening white noise of the waves all that she can hear. The waters climb as far into this other world as they can until the lunar energy of the tide pulls the wave back. The waters recede but the tide pool remains in the shallow basin of the rocks, having inadvertently separated itself from the vast entirety of the ocean.

That's her.

This sudden sense of herself as a separate entity, cut off and alone from everything it once belonged to, touches something in the most base part of her, deeper then the emotions with names. She is drowning in a dark void of fear/broken/incorrect. She tries to scream but it comes out wrong. It's not a scream, it's data, a synthesized electronic wail, sending itself away from her in a way that feels like a loss, as though to scream is to lose parts of herself, which only makes the panic worse, which only makes the need to scream greater.

"OK either mute her or-"

"Hold on I've got her voice right here I just haven't layered it in yet."

The scream slowly begins to sound like a scream, which at least feels right, so she stops.

"Ha ha. Wow? This is great? Why is she staring at us like that though."

"I'm not sure she's seeing anything, really. There's stimuli coming from all directions, she isn't sure which to focus on. As the program learns she'll get closer and closer to being herself. I'm going to add her memories now."

Everything arrives at once - from her earliest memory in the Secure Future Academy for Babies, the Grandfathers introducing her to her training screen > To BUGwich, her last roommate in Todrick Hall, continually moving her stuff and complaining about the vibe-ability of her space > To kissing Manucito outside Remote Stimulation class, the first time he guided her hand to his d*ngd*ng > To the zonny clinging fiercely to her neck in the changing room at puLLing!tEEth > To being in this room, this exact room, but strapped to the table while everything slowly faded to black while the men staring at her now stared at her then.

Every memory is suddenly there, like a giant spike hammered into the side of her head with one swift blow. This part is too much.

fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fe

"OK. This is uncomfortable."

"Right? People won't be able to watch anything else. She's like, fighting it so much though. Can you make her want it?"

"It should just take a few seconds."

ar/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incor

"Something's wrong, it's not working."

rect/fear/broken/incorrec She wants to run but she cannot move / she wants to throw up but there nothing inside her / she wants to punch but she has no solidity / she is there but she is not there / but she is there but she is not there / she wants to inflict pain upon herself but there is too much pain being inflicted upon her / she is desperate to go back to whatever was before this / she longs to be away from now / she despairs for a thing she cannot name and wouldn't recognize / she misses the way things were not this but it's this it's not this / t/fear/broken/incor

"OK just: let's slow down here. It's not about controlling her. She's not a recording. We want some agency, some personality. We want her to surprise us. We just want to be able to predict the ways in which she'll want to surprise us, you know? That's all."

rect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fear/broken/incorrect/fe

"But some of these lines should have smoothed out by now, she's going to pull herself apart."

"Layer in some interactions."

"Now? One of the new brands?"

"No. Start gentle. Something familiar."

She didn't have a body but then she had a body and the fact of this body is horrifying and wrong but then she's wearing a jacket. A green jacket, a green fuzzy jacket with extra long sleeves and a hood. The green fuzzy jacket with extra long sleeves and a hood by Morphalyne. She remembers this jacket. She knows this jacket. Morphalyne. She holds her arms out, watching them move inside the extra long green fuzzy sleeves of the jacket. familiarity/desire/home. Something she once focused on she focuses on now. She wanted this. Morphalyne. She remembers wanting this. She has it now. A thing she wanted and never had but now she has. Suddenly: a direction; a form to shape a life around.

"Ha ha. OK. Come on. I'm crying. Are you crying? Because I'm crying."

Everything inside her goes quiet. Imagine a life spent on that beach, with the waves crashing around you, the noise from the ancient energy of the waves all you can hear, all you've ever heard. What if the noise from those waves suddenly stopped? What would rush in to fill the silence?

///

Hopefully you can pick out Daddy & jorgan_t's voices up there. It must be hell, coming back from the dead. Poor Anicentricity, she is really going through it. 💜

 💜

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