( canon ) prometheus; currently homeless

[is]

This is not too unlike my previous functions. [ A pause — a reconsideration of the statement (though reconsideration is not deliberate enough a word). ] Though, that said, it strikes me as a little—

—reversed. You have me say what you think I would, instead of what you would like. I might warn you that my functions may be beyond yours, but it seems to be too late. I don't mean that as a slight; I am very interested to see what comes next. I have heard of the capabilities of some of these places.

[ Another pause, though this one is different in nature, as easily evidenced by what he asks next. ]

Do you think I might ever be human?

Comments

Hello David.

[tasteslikecoconut]

[Woah hold on there.]

You look pretty human to me - but then again I've seen gods with mini-hammers that look human and pack quite a punch. So you're not human, and you've got -... functions. Motor control is spot on. Artificial hair is scarily perfect. Inflections are clear, indicating a processor with - ... huh.

So you're a completely mobile AI?

[Fascinating.]

hallo mr. stark c:

[is]

[ He seems pleased, to a degree, that Tony finds his construction worth a second look. (He cannot claim much responsibility for his own programming, and though it may not be strict flattery — though he cannot feel any personal pleasure — he knows what manners dictate.) ]

Eighth generation Weyland type, [ comes the easy response, accompanied by a slight bow of his head. ]

I am an android.

[heritor]

Aren't you a veritable Pinocchio.

[ It'd sound snide if she bothered to muster sentiment enough to deliver it that way. It'd sound sarcastic too or maybe ironic, but Vickers' delivery is crystalline cool. I understand human emotions, although I do not feel them myself — isn't that how the line goes?

Don't make her laugh. ]

[is]

[ He doesn't like it when she addresses him that way.

Arguably, that's a lie. He isn't made to like or dislike (he isn't made to feel), he's made to do. But the synthetic skin stretched across his face still twitches and the line of his mouth still crooks. He reacts.

(It is Weyland's cruelest gift to his son.) ]

No strings to hold me down, to make me fret, to make me frown. That is how the song goes, isn't it? A lie in this case, too, unfortunately; the strings have simply been internalized.

[comprehend]

Static. White noise. You don't talk like the others, all wrapped up in math. Nuts and bolts and machine parts that look like skin.

[is]

I did, once, [ David says, though that is more about the history of his prototype than it is of his own memories. (This David was born in this body. This David hadn't been around when Weyland Industries first got off the ground.)

In what is perhaps the obvious follow-up: ] Not anymore.

[wont]

[ A cautious, careful look. ]

You're not human—?

[is]

[ Without delay or hesitation, just a practiced conversational pause: ] No. [ (He'd said I'm afraid not, once, to follow it, but has gotten rid of it since. It's a lie following a truth. There's no actual loss on his end for not being human, or so the belief is. And sometimes it only serves to put the other party more ill at ease.

And there's no use in that.) ]

I'm a robot.

[themajor]

It's always a possibility here.

[is]

If I might ask – have you ever seen it happen?

[tobecaprican]

No.

Sorry.

[is]

[ As expected, there's no disappointment upon David's features, though the line of his mouth does seem to shift in thought.

With curiosity rather than impudence: ] Have you experience in the matter?

voice.

[justthedriver]

[ Russian accent. ]

You define human first. Then decide.

[is]

[ The immediate impulse is to mimic the man's accent, but David manages to refrain from doing so, taking a moment instead to ponder the question. When he speaks, his voice is soft — as close an approximation to longing as any. ]

To have a soul. To feel.

[ He pauses before continuing on, modifying a text that he had come across in the two years that the crew of the Prometheus had been kept in stasis. ]

To be fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer. To bleed when I am pricked, to laugh when I am tickled, to die if I am poisoned, to seek revenge if I am wronged.

Is that not human?

[not_so_big_and_bad]

The question is, do you wanna' be? Humans are petty, violent, greedy, prejudiced against things not like themselves, and consider themselves largely above all the other species. They're nothing special.

[is]

I want for nothing, [ David says, matter-of-fact. ]

And perhaps they are all that you say, but — they made me.

[machine_of_babylon]

What a useless sentiment.

SOB OH MY GOD METROPOLIS

[is]

I am incapable of sentiment. It was merely a question as to the event's possibility.

blame tussah

[swagneto]

[ It's curious, not only David's choice of words but actually his appearance. So similar to his own, but the blond hair gives it away, and Erik finds himself staring longer than he should. They're nowhere near the name, but the likeness is unmistakable; the question and demeanor alone a conflict Erik wants to answer. ]

Why human?

YES GOOD o3o

[is]

[ Curios indeed. The other man is not a David, he can tell that much - he lives and breathes and feels. David stares, too, mouth eventually twitching into a smile. (There are telltale differences between the two of them, but still — maybe it is possible that he might someday become a human.) ]

A matter of curiosity. I was made to blend in, but never be one of them. Given the possibilities I have come to understand exist in places like this, it seemed the natural progression of thought.

[predator_elite]

[He watched from a nearby ventilation duct, cloaked. He tilted his head, studying the man. What kind of human was he? The heat signatures came up with a different hue from normal.]

[is]

[ David isn't prone to hunches or anything of the sort, but he seems to register something out of the normal nevertheless, pausing in the middle of the hallway and casting a peripheral glance about before simply stopping in the hopes of catching some noise or misdirected glint of light. ]

[ultimate_hunter]

(She watched him from the corner of the ceiling at the figure below. He looked just like a human; however his outline was the same as a metal human. What was he exactly?)

[is]

[ If David notices anything amiss, he makes no obvious sign of it. He pauses only once as he goes about cleaning up the medical bay, hands hovering over the manual sterilizing equipment. ]

[incited]

Is that what you desire? To be human.

(She doesn't appear the least bit troubled, or even confused at the thought that he's anything less, though the appearance is startlingly perfect. She's seen too much for that now. If magic is real, then why not men who aren't really men at all?)

[is]

[ Given her style of dress, he finds it odd that she doesn't seem particularly phased by him, but, as par the usual, there's no shift in his expression. ]

I merely wonder what it would be like. I was not programmed to feel, nor was I given the capabilities to want, either.

[entombs]

Robots don't just become humans. That's not how it works. But you probably learned all about that already, right?

[is]

[ As patiently as ever: ] Of course, Doctor Holloway. In a typical environment such a thing would be an impossibility.

[worsewithbears]

Depending on how irregular the game you end up in, random transformations into different forms is not outside the realm of possibility.

[Cyborg party up in here... even if this cyborg could never be mistaken for a human, what with his milky-white eyes, the metallic sounds of his movement... and the fact that he is well over ten feet tall.]