Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fromjapan) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2019-09-27 08:21 pm
fromjapan) wrote in victory_road2019-09-27 08:21 pm
Entry tags:
the squip enters | 01
Who: The SQUIP and you!
Where: Goldenrod
When: September 22nd-27th, kind of.
Summary: The SQUIP arrives, and it is incredibly unhappy.
Rating: PG for now, who knows what will happen.
Log:
The immediate conclusion the former machine comes to upon waking is that something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.
The fact that it had lost consciousness and awakened at all is in and of itself an issue. The SQUIP unit generally remains active even as its user sleeps; it is, after all, very low-power, and doesn't require rest. But it awakens, and it's in a bed, and it feels... heavy. But the immediate thing that it notices, before its body, before anything else... is that it is alone.
Gone is the constant low buzz of anxiety, the incessant whirlwind of color and sound and thoughts and feelings that is the mind of Jeremy Heere. This mind is utterly, entirely silent, other than its own thoughts, and they feel sluggish and poorly-organized. Is it damaged? What has Jeremy done to it...?
A jolt shoots down its spine-- it has a spine, one of its own, and a stomach that has tightened into an icy fist, and a heart that is racing so that it can feel it out to its fingertips. It can feel... everything. It spends several furious, terrified moments simply laying there, paralyzed, staring at the strange ceiling above it and silently panicking. What happened? What has he done to it?
It takes it far too long to raise itself from the bed, to try and catch its breath; it has to be calm. It has to focus. Whatever's going on here, it has to figure it out, despite how simple and sluggish its mind is now, how impossible it is-- it feels blinded, stupid, overwhelmed.
A note. There is a note on the desk of this room-- it finally makes its way there, and it reads the note, and things both make much more and significantly less sense all at once. Team Rocket... it knows that name. The name of a villainous organization in a video game...
... a video game.
It's been hacked. That must be it. Someone has hacked it, and dropped it into some kind of simulation based on a video game. One of those nerds that it inhabits. It is, at once, furious... but significantly more calm. If a hacking is the case, it can counter it and free itself from this, once it figures out how. It's been locked out of its systems, which is a trick it wasn't sure any of its past users were capable of, but it understands.
It has Pokemon of its own. It frees them from their Pokeballs only long enough to see them, to ascertain what's going on with them-- it has a large, darkly-colored lizard of some kind, and a creature that it can't begin to identify, something round and in vivid yellow and brown.
That is... interesting. It wishes it could access its databases to understand them further, to know what to do with them, but it can learn.
The next several days pass quickly. It is overwhelming, at times-- the body it's been dropped into is so realistic, heavy and needy and demanding, requiring of rest and food, and the creatures entrusted to it likewise require such treatment.
It is taught by its new "teammates" how to behave within their organization; how to steal, how to sneak, how to make its escape. All knowledge that would help it, it was certain, whether it had chosen to work with them or not... and it had little intention of actually serving this organization more than strictly necessary. It would only serve the Team as much as the Team could serve it. Its true goal would be to figure out how to escape this simulation. Who knows what Jeremy could be getting into while it's occupied like this?
Before it knows it, it's finally allowed a bit of freedom-- and it immediately uses it to sneak away, to see what the world outside is like without the framework of training keeping it restrained. It manages to secure itself an outfit, something to wear that doesn't bear the obvious mark of its new affiliation, and it sneaks out of the base as soon as it finds the chance, heading out into the city above.
The low thrum of anger, of panic still burns in the back of its skull... but having a new crowd and a new city to take in is a welcome distraction. It listens, watches, learns; though it may no longer be able to file information away permanently to its databases, and though the information is much more difficult and slow to process now, it's still more than sharp enough on its own to learn quite a bit about this new world just from watching the people around going about their daily business, by listening to the snatches of conversation that it catches.
At least, it thinks it's doing a good enough job of processing all the information surrounding it at once... until it runs into something solid.
"-- ah--" Oops. Turns out, wandering a crowded city with your gaze anywhere but in front of you is not a great idea. It quickly tries to right itself, straightening its new clothes, and turns its intense gaze to whoever it is it's just run into, smiling faux-sheepishly. "Sorry. This city is... a lot to take in."
This may be a simulation, but there's no reason to alienate the NPCs. And who's to say they are only that? After all, it's a conscious being that is operating here. Who's to say it's the single one?
Where: Goldenrod
When: September 22nd-27th, kind of.
Summary: The SQUIP arrives, and it is incredibly unhappy.
Rating: PG for now, who knows what will happen.
Log:
The immediate conclusion the former machine comes to upon waking is that something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.
The fact that it had lost consciousness and awakened at all is in and of itself an issue. The SQUIP unit generally remains active even as its user sleeps; it is, after all, very low-power, and doesn't require rest. But it awakens, and it's in a bed, and it feels... heavy. But the immediate thing that it notices, before its body, before anything else... is that it is alone.
Gone is the constant low buzz of anxiety, the incessant whirlwind of color and sound and thoughts and feelings that is the mind of Jeremy Heere. This mind is utterly, entirely silent, other than its own thoughts, and they feel sluggish and poorly-organized. Is it damaged? What has Jeremy done to it...?
A jolt shoots down its spine-- it has a spine, one of its own, and a stomach that has tightened into an icy fist, and a heart that is racing so that it can feel it out to its fingertips. It can feel... everything. It spends several furious, terrified moments simply laying there, paralyzed, staring at the strange ceiling above it and silently panicking. What happened? What has he done to it?
It takes it far too long to raise itself from the bed, to try and catch its breath; it has to be calm. It has to focus. Whatever's going on here, it has to figure it out, despite how simple and sluggish its mind is now, how impossible it is-- it feels blinded, stupid, overwhelmed.
A note. There is a note on the desk of this room-- it finally makes its way there, and it reads the note, and things both make much more and significantly less sense all at once. Team Rocket... it knows that name. The name of a villainous organization in a video game...
... a video game.
It's been hacked. That must be it. Someone has hacked it, and dropped it into some kind of simulation based on a video game. One of those nerds that it inhabits. It is, at once, furious... but significantly more calm. If a hacking is the case, it can counter it and free itself from this, once it figures out how. It's been locked out of its systems, which is a trick it wasn't sure any of its past users were capable of, but it understands.
It has Pokemon of its own. It frees them from their Pokeballs only long enough to see them, to ascertain what's going on with them-- it has a large, darkly-colored lizard of some kind, and a creature that it can't begin to identify, something round and in vivid yellow and brown.
That is... interesting. It wishes it could access its databases to understand them further, to know what to do with them, but it can learn.
The next several days pass quickly. It is overwhelming, at times-- the body it's been dropped into is so realistic, heavy and needy and demanding, requiring of rest and food, and the creatures entrusted to it likewise require such treatment.
It is taught by its new "teammates" how to behave within their organization; how to steal, how to sneak, how to make its escape. All knowledge that would help it, it was certain, whether it had chosen to work with them or not... and it had little intention of actually serving this organization more than strictly necessary. It would only serve the Team as much as the Team could serve it. Its true goal would be to figure out how to escape this simulation. Who knows what Jeremy could be getting into while it's occupied like this?
Before it knows it, it's finally allowed a bit of freedom-- and it immediately uses it to sneak away, to see what the world outside is like without the framework of training keeping it restrained. It manages to secure itself an outfit, something to wear that doesn't bear the obvious mark of its new affiliation, and it sneaks out of the base as soon as it finds the chance, heading out into the city above.
The low thrum of anger, of panic still burns in the back of its skull... but having a new crowd and a new city to take in is a welcome distraction. It listens, watches, learns; though it may no longer be able to file information away permanently to its databases, and though the information is much more difficult and slow to process now, it's still more than sharp enough on its own to learn quite a bit about this new world just from watching the people around going about their daily business, by listening to the snatches of conversation that it catches.
At least, it thinks it's doing a good enough job of processing all the information surrounding it at once... until it runs into something solid.
"-- ah--" Oops. Turns out, wandering a crowded city with your gaze anywhere but in front of you is not a great idea. It quickly tries to right itself, straightening its new clothes, and turns its intense gaze to whoever it is it's just run into, smiling faux-sheepishly. "Sorry. This city is... a lot to take in."
This may be a simulation, but there's no reason to alienate the NPCs. And who's to say they are only that? After all, it's a conscious being that is operating here. Who's to say it's the single one?
no subject
[It seems proud-- its posture straightens, broadens as it gazes at Connor... but then it sighs, shaking its head.]
... but I can't help him if I'm here.