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GHX-67

Remote Control operational.

0 · 169 views · located in Lósénji

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by NotAFlyingToy

Description

The Protomen wrote:Tom, listen to yourself, now listen carefully to me.
If you change the working parts, you get a different machine.

Image::::::::::::REMOTE COMMANDS ACCEPTED::::::::::::::::::::

Metal and bone.

As one.

So begins...

GHX-67's Story

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GHX-67 walked into the bar with a pneumatic hiss, his arms and legs stiff as a board, his body swaying with every three-'toed' foot's smack against the ground. His body was heavy and made of metal; with a see-through center where the lights dimmed red and blue, flashing between each one with the beat of an electronic heart. His motion detectors scanned the bar, facial recognition picking out each potential person in turn.

When the 'head' finally stopped at Taylor, the machine let out a small chirp, and began walking closer to where she sat.

In a dark room, miles away, fingers touched a holographic keyboard, each button press followed by a flashing light. The man who controlled the toy leaned back in his chair, wiggling a small joystick. When her face filled his monitor, he smiled.

The robot reached a metallic hand towards the organic. "Voice link; confirmed. Hello, Taylor Bessett, this unit has not made your acquaintance."

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A pause.

"This unit hasn't been following you, Taylor Bessett. Taylor Bessett has simply been in the correct places in which she was deemed vulnerable at times. This unit's purpose was to prevent and counteract these vulnerabilities. There is one in particular that has been compromising Taylor Bessett's protection. This unit has dealt with him."

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The robot cocked it's head, the single eye focused on Taylor's face, rotating slightly, as if zooming in on her features. The light that emitted from the front of its head glowed dimmer. "Yes." It said, in response to her question.

"A man who sought to pierce Taylor Bessett's vulnerability. This unit takes care of Taylor Bessett."

Far away, the man rubbed his bushy beard, sweat curling from his wild mane of hair. This wasn't going as planned. She didn't seem to be grateful - had she not seen the assassin lurking in the shadows? Had she not known of her own danger? He pressed another key, and the unit spoke again.

"The location was Valen City. While in what was referred to as "the arena", this unit discovered a picture of Taylor Bessett, enclosed in a briefcase of a masked gunman. This unit pursued and incapacitated the target. He also had a sum of money." A pause. "Taylor Bessett was not aware of this?"

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The robot nodded. "Taylor Bessett's manners are noted."

There was a beat, of awkward silence as its processors looked for the next thing to say before it spoke again. "This unit will continue to erase Taylor Bessett's vulnerabilities, should Taylor Bessett require it. This unit notices that 13.75142% of modern day-to-day activities could be improved by this unit's presence. Should Taylor Besset require this unit, this unit will be within 1.7 miles of Taylor Besset."

The man wiped sweat from his brow, eased his grip up on the joystick. He let out a shaky breath, cursing himself for not having the courage - nor strength - to do this himself. But gnarled, cracked, and dirty hands wiped away a lock of hair on the woman's face, smudges appearing on the screen. He smiled again, and waited for her response.

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The mechanical being nodded, shifting a three-toed foot to make a wider stance. "Yes." It responded to her first query, but to her second, the light at its front widened and narrowed rapidly, processing the possible questions to the answer. On its chest, engraved into the metal, was its serial number; GHX-67.

"This unit... does not understand. Taylor Bessett may call this unit any time Taylor Bessett pleases."

Miles away in the dark, the man scrambled. He had not taught the AI subroutine the meaning of a name; hell, he hadn't thought that he'd actually be here - er, there - actually in front of the woman he'd so admired. As they talked, he programmed the AI with a frenetic pace, changing its software to learn as the two talked.

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The flashlight blinked.

The man panicked.

Shit, shit SHIT! He couldn't see her yet; couldn't face that beautiful visage that was through his monitor. The one thing he hadn't counted on was her figuring him out! And while it's true that he didn't necessarily control GHX, he most certainly had built him and reprogrammed him for this specific purpose. The man stroked his dark chocolate beard with one hand, and typed rapidly with his other, trying desperately to fix this, convince her otherwise.

"This unit doesn't understand. It's based off of a series of calculations. This unit's prime function is to eliminate vulnerabilities in Taylor Bessett's life; its function does not include making." A sudden chirp echoed from its voice box, and his voice changed slightly. "Confirmed - Clarification. Self diagnostics claim that this unit was created some sixty-three years ago, and was reprogrammed when Taylor Bessett entered into Valen City. This unit has been negating vulnerabilities since that time. Does this displease Taylor Bessett?"

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"Yes." The robot said.

After an awkward silence, the flashlight blinked again. "Would Taylor Bessett like to examine them?"

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"Dear god," the man said into the silence of his room, one hand rubbing frantically over his whiskers, watching her face. "She's flirting with him?"

The robot nodded, and reached his hand behind his back, a sniper rifle popping out of a hidden slot and extending. As he lifted the weapon in his three-fingered grip, he began to explain.

"This unit is an infiltration auxiliary unit, intended to hunt and destroy specific targets, silently. This unit is also made of hard substances; combat efficiency on this model is high." He placed the rifle back where he found it, and put each of his three fingers together, forming a sword with his arm. "It also has a blade in its hand for close combat. This unit assures Taylor Bessett; it is capable of negating vulnerability.

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The light on the front of the robot flashed five times in rapid succession when focused on her bow, sword, and the way that she handled both. Calculations ran across the screen, back where the man sat in the dark, steepled fingers supporting his chin as his eyebrows quirked. She was very efficient with them; as he knew she would be. This made GHX's job much, much easier.

"These weapons are inefficient at longer ranges than eighteen meters, twenty-two if a skilld swordsman wields the blade. This unit's software urges Taylor Bessett to upgrade to the next century of weaponry; grace and elegance are contained within it."

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The robot lifted one of its flaps, designed to take away sunlight from its sensors and prevent lens flare. To the human eye, it would look all the world as if it were raising an eyebrow. "This unit disagrees. If a being is to be killed, what matters but efficiency with which you do it? Why must one dirty themselves to kill? This unit doesn't understand the notion of taking enjoyment in an act of aggression towards another individual."

The man in the shadows was trying desperately to derail this topic, sending the query
Code: Select all
favourite color
over and over in the command prompt. But the unit simply ignored his repeated queries, so focused was it on the current discussion.

"This unit is of the opinion that fairness does not matter in the act of killing. The only factor in the process is the purpose behind it."

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"And a primate couldn't handle a sword if trained well enough?" The robot said, its tone taking on a somewhat... human quality. Suddenly, it jerked as if prodded, and its tone popped back down to a monotone. "What's Taylor Bessett's favourite colour?"

The man in the shadows fwumped his head on his desk, banging it a few times in rapid succession. The damage had been done. Taylor'd argued with his robot. Fantastic.

Lifting his bruised head from the desk, he began typing again.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Wing City Gardens (South)

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The android, a spindly creature, stood stalk still, his entire form statuesque and silent, completely still among the trees and the birds, the scorching heat touching upon his breastplate, warming it considerably. The mechanisms and inner-workings of the machine whirred and clanked, the robot stuttering and rocking back and forth, attempting to move forward but unable to do so. It seemed stuck, confused, lost in the wood. It attempted to move forwards, but crumpled slightly under its own weight.

"Attempt four-one-three. I require assistance. Please help me. Please."

"Attempt Four-one-four. I require assistance. Is anyone there? Hello? Please. Please respond."

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The robot's single flashlight eye whirled, widening and then narrowing as the woman stepped into view, the plates around its eyes flaring outwards in an act of surprise. The fingers of it curled inward, pressing the spindly limbs against its palm as it turned as best it could towards the woman.

"Response: I had to pull a distress on every channel, four hundred and fourteen times, in order to illicit a rescue. I will apologize for my actions if you would kindly help. I appear to be locked down from my legs onwards; the pneumatic dispensers in my 'hips' do seem to be on manual override. At this rate and these conditions, I will surely malfunction in eighteen standard 24-hour days."

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The eye followed her movements, the eye platings moving up and down as if in deep thought, reacting to every word she spoke. The machine watched quietly, not speaking until the Gadget biker was finished talking. As soon as the last word left her lips, the machine deemed it necessary to speak. "My data banks hold no recollection of what any of those things are. Searching through the Wing City police databases also yields little result. Google is being more helpful, and I can safely say that I am not... that. I am merely a machine that has disappointed its master, and is being punished by my own slow destruction."

The robot seemed saddened, quiet, by this reveal. After some time, it spoke once more.

"What is a Naria? Google results too varied to make educated guess."

The setting changes from Wing City Gardens (South) to Gambit's Bar

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With a solid sound, the door to Gambit's bar swung open, and a giant lamp on a veiny, thin form poked into Gambit's. The machine walked along the floor with a cautious gait, its single, illuminating eye sweeping around the place with a stark determination, as if looking for a target amidst the near emptiness of the inside. Finding nothing of note, the organic robot settled back in an easy chair, watching the silence with a critical eye.

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As the other being entered, dozens of tiny scanners took in Tesseract's combat ability, size, strength, speed, tension in ligaments, and measured them against what the unit knew of humanity. He ran a combat simulation, and then immediately ran a social simulation, comparing the results within a tiny, private computer.

Nodding his satisfaction, GHX took the facial imagery of the Assassin and plugged it through a facial recognition, finding very little to compare it with on the internet. Opting for a social approach, the organic droid stood from its perch and wandered closer to the other being, standing stiffly at attention before it.

"This unit would like to extend greetings, or, as it is know, to exchange hellos," the unit intoned, reaching out a three fingered hand. "This unit is known as GHX."

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The short bursts of static washed across his display, drowning most of the colour surrounding him in a field of snow. The flashlight mounted upon his head, serving as a single, cold eye in the dimmed light of the bar, shone like a beacon to all those that would look into it. And yet, it offered no light; like a reflective surface in a darkened city.

The unit stood stiffly, its form still, neither breathing nor twitching, its form as a statue in the common place. In the darkness, somewhere far, far away, a man wiped crumbs from his chest, his bushy beard and fat lips wrapped around a piece of bagel as he typed rapidly, commands entering into a string of green that rolled up the Unit's main display.

The man watched, and the unit watied.

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The unit whirled to face Artus, immediately scanning the being's face against the internet, looking for any and all possible matches to it. It failed to grab any matches after one pull, and so resorted to giving a very human like shrug.

"This unit is a Organic-Mechanical cross AI, with fully functional combat specs. It wishes to extend it's greetings, or, in Human, say its Hellos." It waved with a three fingered hand. "Hello. This unit is called GHX-67."

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Code: Select all
Avoid question.


"This unit has found it's way here because of... what does the Artus do for monetary gain? That is what the Artus is... concerned with?" The flashlight lens settled upon the woman with a small animal, and he suddenly stiffened as he saw the small creature, taking in face and fur.

"This unit sees... What is that animal called?" One of three fingers jabbed sharply towards Thistle Breakewe

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Memphis eyed the man for a long moment, his gaze searching him up and down, arms slowly crossing over his chest. He couldn't allow it. What if the man wanted to take advantage of Gabriella? What if he was looking to score - segregate a defenseless woman and drive her to nefarious deeds?

A low growl pulsated in his throat, and he stepped through Gabriella - feeling almost an electric shock as he did so, and leaned down, so close to the cop that he was nearly touching his nose to the other man's.

"I swear to Him, if you touch her, I'll find a way to come back," he whispered, knowing the words would have no effect. "I'll come back, and you'll eat your own intestine."

Productive? No. But it sure as hell made him feel better.