Re: Journal of Sociology [S!6] - [Round One: The Pacific Spire]
09-13-2012, 02:30 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by dynamicEquilibrium.
Jean strained out and down for some sense of her sweater. It was awfully far away, almost as far as she could reach it from. Simiel was definitely still there but it would be awfully hard to get a message through from so many floors away. She struggled and emitted a suppressed "mmmmf, trying to move her sweater enough to get some attention.
Simiel was busily if ineffectually scrubbing at the blood on the mailroom walls when the enigmatic device that Jean had given her moved under its own power. A much more interesting task... Simiel owed it to the strange, frivolous creature to at least investigate this gift. She examined the knitted pink folds for evidence of their internal mechanism and found nothing but faint impulses originating (apparently) within the fiber strands themselves.
She stood up straight and declaimed, "Your movements are very incoherent, but sufficiently pseudorandom to indicate some intelligence behind them. Do you wish to communicate?"
The wiggling grew more frantic but still contained no discernible message.
"I was told that you will... improve me. Sweater, is this your form of interfacing with my systems? I am afraid that I am not compatible. I am attempting to communicate with you in the local language but I do not know if you understand. If you have an important communication I am afraid you must find some other way to convey it."
Simiel's inability to understand made her feel... or at least, made her recall the experience of being alone. Two devices cast together, each a lone alien in this world, compatible not even with each other... it had a meaning but this escaped her. The Cores would have understood. She lapsed into silence.
Jean was starting to get a better idea of where her sweater was... she strained harder to focus and managed to make out a vague picture of the area, along with Simiel's funny voice saying "...not know if you understand. If you have an important communication I am afraid you must find some other way to convey it."
Oh dear... the nice machine lady couldn't tell what Jean was trying to say. She supposed there had been a lot of wiggling and not much else. This was the time to use whatever talent let her shout through the scarf, but Jean still had no idea how that happened. It might have been because she was so angry that something happened to her scarf, Jean supposed. Being stressed all the time was a lousy way to talk to people but this was a bit of an emergency, so she gave it a try. Jean thought long and hard about how terrible it would be to be trapped forever in this dismal little floor, how she feared being left behind here and unappreciated forever...
"Cores, I wish you were here to explain to me my purpose. I am trapped forever in this dismal little world... I will surely be left behind here and unappreciated forever. This makes me experience brokenness, or maybe even more. I expect at any moment for liquid to run out of my eyes like a human. I think perhaps I am in grave error and what I perceive no longer corresponds with reality, or I would not feel this way. Sweater, do you feel the same?"
But as her thoughts turned to this last idea, Simiel suddenly and incontrovertibly knew that the sweater did in fact feel the same. It was somehow transmitting directly into her thoughts; in fact, the ideas she had just voiced were not the products of her own mind.
"You have learned to interface. What a clever sweater."
Simiel carefully reviewed her thoughts and found a number of external ones had been introduced, namely the experience of needing help, the experience of sadness, and the experience of being exactly 195.21 meters away from her current position at an angle of 31.9% right of her midline and 82.3% above lateral.
"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I think perhaps you are not sad at all. I think Jean is sad and she is communicating with me. Is that correct, sweater?"
It was. And another thing... The elevator was badly malfunctioning and the stairs had fallen in. Jean thought that they might need help from Blacklight. The circumstances were less than convenient, but Simiel could fix things from the floor below. She began to move through the building with her unnaturally measured pace.
Jean strained out and down for some sense of her sweater. It was awfully far away, almost as far as she could reach it from. Simiel was definitely still there but it would be awfully hard to get a message through from so many floors away. She struggled and emitted a suppressed "mmmmf, trying to move her sweater enough to get some attention.
Simiel was busily if ineffectually scrubbing at the blood on the mailroom walls when the enigmatic device that Jean had given her moved under its own power. A much more interesting task... Simiel owed it to the strange, frivolous creature to at least investigate this gift. She examined the knitted pink folds for evidence of their internal mechanism and found nothing but faint impulses originating (apparently) within the fiber strands themselves.
She stood up straight and declaimed, "Your movements are very incoherent, but sufficiently pseudorandom to indicate some intelligence behind them. Do you wish to communicate?"
The wiggling grew more frantic but still contained no discernible message.
"I was told that you will... improve me. Sweater, is this your form of interfacing with my systems? I am afraid that I am not compatible. I am attempting to communicate with you in the local language but I do not know if you understand. If you have an important communication I am afraid you must find some other way to convey it."
Simiel's inability to understand made her feel... or at least, made her recall the experience of being alone. Two devices cast together, each a lone alien in this world, compatible not even with each other... it had a meaning but this escaped her. The Cores would have understood. She lapsed into silence.
Jean was starting to get a better idea of where her sweater was... she strained harder to focus and managed to make out a vague picture of the area, along with Simiel's funny voice saying "...not know if you understand. If you have an important communication I am afraid you must find some other way to convey it."
Oh dear... the nice machine lady couldn't tell what Jean was trying to say. She supposed there had been a lot of wiggling and not much else. This was the time to use whatever talent let her shout through the scarf, but Jean still had no idea how that happened. It might have been because she was so angry that something happened to her scarf, Jean supposed. Being stressed all the time was a lousy way to talk to people but this was a bit of an emergency, so she gave it a try. Jean thought long and hard about how terrible it would be to be trapped forever in this dismal little floor, how she feared being left behind here and unappreciated forever...
"Cores, I wish you were here to explain to me my purpose. I am trapped forever in this dismal little world... I will surely be left behind here and unappreciated forever. This makes me experience brokenness, or maybe even more. I expect at any moment for liquid to run out of my eyes like a human. I think perhaps I am in grave error and what I perceive no longer corresponds with reality, or I would not feel this way. Sweater, do you feel the same?"
But as her thoughts turned to this last idea, Simiel suddenly and incontrovertibly knew that the sweater did in fact feel the same. It was somehow transmitting directly into her thoughts; in fact, the ideas she had just voiced were not the products of her own mind.
"You have learned to interface. What a clever sweater."
Simiel carefully reviewed her thoughts and found a number of external ones had been introduced, namely the experience of needing help, the experience of sadness, and the experience of being exactly 195.21 meters away from her current position at an angle of 31.9% right of her midline and 82.3% above lateral.
"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I think perhaps you are not sad at all. I think Jean is sad and she is communicating with me. Is that correct, sweater?"
It was. And another thing... The elevator was badly malfunctioning and the stairs had fallen in. Jean thought that they might need help from Blacklight. The circumstances were less than convenient, but Simiel could fix things from the floor below. She began to move through the building with her unnaturally measured pace.