Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Vote closed. Time for Bracket to go meet (or really just talk with) his maker.
-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Machine Learning: A Cave Story Quest
- Thread starter Lepidoptera
- Start date
- Action
Vote closed. Time for Bracket to go meet (or really just talk with) his maker.
Recovered Data 10 - Influence IV
New
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Machine Learning - Recovered Data 10 - Influence IV
"…and so I conveyed our report to Commander Syn and we returned to base." you conclude. The Chief Engineer states at you appraising from over the pile of scraps on the table. You have no clue what it's supposed to be, or whether it's even being made or taken apart. But there is always something new occupying the table whenever you enter the Chief Engineer's office.
"Interesting." the Chief Engineer answers as she raises her teacup to her lips with a shaking hand. Her tremors are especially bad today. Even without such a blatant example, the tightness to her face told you that much the moment you walked into her office.
The Chief Engineer is the oldest human you've ever met. You're not sure exactly how old, and she bears it well, but the various photographs of her younger self make it clear how much she's changed. Where in the pictures lined up next to her awards and trophies she could've been mistaken for Curly or Paren at a distance, her body had thinned and withered over the years. Her now-white hair is tied back in a short ponytail draped over one shoulder, its colour contrasting perfectly the jet black jacket you've never seen her without.
You stare at your own cup of tea, avoiding the intensity of the Chief Engineer's gaze. You have no need of food or drinks, but you could still drink it. It's one of many baffling design decisions you can never manage to ask about. There's just no way you can think of to bring it up without sounding like an insult, and after all the care the Chief Engineer took with you it can't be right to tell her she's made you wrong somehow.
You can't say that. She made the six of you, for as much as any single person can claim credit for such a thing. You owe the fact that you and the others exist at all to her. To tell her that creation was mistaken somehow is unthinkable.
But your thoughts are beginning to wander from the subject at hand.
"I'm unsure how to proceed from this point onward." you clarify. The Chief Engineer nods to you.
"What are you hoping to do?" she asks softly. "None of this sounds… immediately problematic."
"The mission made Curly upset. It might have upset Quote as well, but they're harder to read properly. I know sometimes he just agrees with what everyone else is saying without thinking about it." you recall. It's not 'immediately problematic', but it is a problem. Or it will be a problem. "I don't want them acting erratically or… putting themselves at risk."
You don't say what sort of risk. Getting distracted in the middle of a battle could be dangerous, yes- but that's something you can handle more directly. It's been years since your first deployments, and not much less since any of you were seriously hurt in battle. But the sentiment Curly was expressing was dangerous. However she justified it to herself, it was disobedience. Insubordination. If Command learned about that…
"Well, you can't change your orders." the Chief Engineer lays out, leaning back into her seat and closing her eyes. "Do you think you can get Curly to change how she feels about missions like this?"
"I-" That's not the answer you were hoping for. Curly was right about that mission. It never should have happened in the first place. Even setting aside the morality of it, you accomplished nothing. Wherever Command got their information, it was faulty. The simple possibility of Demon Flowers being present can't justify your team's presence in an otherwise civilian colony. Where could they possibly have been told such a thing? You have no illusions about Command's morality, but their competence isn't so questionable. "I was hoping that you could do something about Command. We shouldn't have been there in the first place."
"I know." the Chief Engineer nods. "But I don't have that much sway in where you're sent. My only job is to make sure you all work as intended- that's my only responsibility."
"I understand." You've heard it before, but you still had to ask.
"Back to what I mentioned earlier- Are you sure there's no way you can get Curly to look at things differently? If Command knew about her thinking these things, it'd only cause us problems."
You shake your head. The tea sitting in front of you has long cooled. You're told that means it's no longer fit for consumption. "You know none of them listen to me. Even if I warned her- I did warn her, about expressing anything dangerous where Command might hear- but it won't help. None of the others understand the gravity of the situation."
"Then you'll need to get her quiet somehow before the wrong people hear." the Chief Engineer decides. She raises her cup to her lips again.
"I don't believe that'll be possible. Not on this matter." you say. It's too personal. The others barely listen to you even on things you have actual authority on. There's no chance Curly would take your word on something you hold no power over.
"I can talk to her, try and find avenues of approach, but it'll be up to you to convince her." the Chief Engineer insists. "If you think that she might not listen to you, we certainly won't listen to me. I'm not like you all, after all. A peer's perspective will be important here."
"I'm still not sure what to do." you confess. What can you do? If the Chief Engineer can't do anything to keep missions like this from being assigned again, all that's left is to make sure Command doesn't notice anything they shouldn't. But you don't know how to do that. You never have. The only member of your team less sociable than you is Paren, and that's because she hates everyone except Chevron.
"At its core, what is Curly Brace's real objection? That you were fighting people who couldn't defend themselves?" the Chief Engineer says. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "That's not new. I know what I made. More than that, I know you don't see Rabid Mimiga on every mission. An improvised militia with swords and scavenged firearms isn't comparable to six of my finest creations. Just because they can shoot back doesn't mean they stand a fighting chance. Unless they have the Red Flowers, they might as well be defenceless."
You say nothing, but slowly nod your head. It's true, isn't it? You were just thinking about it earlier. When it comes to the Mimiga, most of your deployments are foregone conclusions. If only that meant you could actually be at ease.
And it still does nothing to help you keep Curly from endangering herself. If anything, it only makes things worse.
"Then why are we sent out at all?"
The Chief Engineer laughs, a short, dry sound quickly followed by a wheezing breath. "Because Command decides it needs doing, and you're available. You've performed well so far, too, so I can't imagine it'll stop any time soon." Your expression doesn't change, but the Chief Engineer immediately leans forward and softens her voice like she's responding to something you let on. "It could be worse, you know. At least this way you have somewhere to be. It's only thanks to your accomplishments that I've been able to provide for you so well."
It's true, you've had a better life than any of the lesser mechanical soldiers. To your knowledge, they don't do anything between deployments. Your team are at least treated like people.
Were human soldiers allowed to retire or refuse orders? It's been a long time since humans ever saw the field of battle by choice. Machines are just much better in all regards.
"So what should we do?" you ask again.
"If you don't think you can keep Curly from objecting, just be sure to push her objections in the practical direction. Command will accept that." the Chief Engineer suggests.
"I understand." That will be more possible. Curly already accepted that train of thought during the mission. Keeping on it is more within what you can manage. It still feels… there is something unsatisfying about this course of action. You know that you all must appear loyal and willing to serve for Command. Voicing displeasure with your operations is extremely risky. But "displeasure" is the very least of what you should be feeling. "Disgust" is more fitting. "Anger" would be just as correct. It is right to feel these things, but they help nobody. Anger won't protect your team from Command's will. Sadness can't shelter whoever you are pointed at next.
"Oh, I know that look." the Chief Engineer says, cutting you from your tangled thoughts. "Don't blame yourself for what happens on your missions. If it wasn't you being sent out, it would just be somebody else. Whatever those people did to catch Command's eye was their mistake, and there's nothing people like us can do."
"I know." you repeat for what must be the hundredth time. She's said this all before. It never sinks in.
"How about this," she starts. "I've been having trouble with some of the more minute parts of my most recent project." She laughs again as she gestures to the parts scattered across the table between you. "Hands aren't as steady as they used to be. Be grateful you'll never have to deal with getting old. Anyways, I could use someone to handle the parts too precise for me."
"I can do that." you say immediately, attempting to dismiss the weight of the earlier conversation. You could use the distraction and engineering is a good way for you to pass the time. It's a practical skill as well, though you doubt you'll even need to actually perform maintenance on one of your team members. You stand abruptly from your seat and move over to stand by the Chief Engineer's side of the table, overlooking the half-assembled machinery.
"So eager." She laughs once more, quick and thin. "Well, I did ask. Even if nobody else does, I always appreciate your help, Bracket. Now, I need to connect the batteries here to a laminated mesh under the casing so it can…"
You let the Chief Engineer's instructions flow into you and dissect them, pulling out each scrap of meaning to guide your hands through the machinery. They move so carefully, so precisely, so mechanically, and you feel more human than you ever do elsewhere.
"…and so I conveyed our report to Commander Syn and we returned to base." you conclude. The Chief Engineer states at you appraising from over the pile of scraps on the table. You have no clue what it's supposed to be, or whether it's even being made or taken apart. But there is always something new occupying the table whenever you enter the Chief Engineer's office.
"Interesting." the Chief Engineer answers as she raises her teacup to her lips with a shaking hand. Her tremors are especially bad today. Even without such a blatant example, the tightness to her face told you that much the moment you walked into her office.
The Chief Engineer is the oldest human you've ever met. You're not sure exactly how old, and she bears it well, but the various photographs of her younger self make it clear how much she's changed. Where in the pictures lined up next to her awards and trophies she could've been mistaken for Curly or Paren at a distance, her body had thinned and withered over the years. Her now-white hair is tied back in a short ponytail draped over one shoulder, its colour contrasting perfectly the jet black jacket you've never seen her without.
You stare at your own cup of tea, avoiding the intensity of the Chief Engineer's gaze. You have no need of food or drinks, but you could still drink it. It's one of many baffling design decisions you can never manage to ask about. There's just no way you can think of to bring it up without sounding like an insult, and after all the care the Chief Engineer took with you it can't be right to tell her she's made you wrong somehow.
You can't say that. She made the six of you, for as much as any single person can claim credit for such a thing. You owe the fact that you and the others exist at all to her. To tell her that creation was mistaken somehow is unthinkable.
But your thoughts are beginning to wander from the subject at hand.
"I'm unsure how to proceed from this point onward." you clarify. The Chief Engineer nods to you.
"What are you hoping to do?" she asks softly. "None of this sounds… immediately problematic."
"The mission made Curly upset. It might have upset Quote as well, but they're harder to read properly. I know sometimes he just agrees with what everyone else is saying without thinking about it." you recall. It's not 'immediately problematic', but it is a problem. Or it will be a problem. "I don't want them acting erratically or… putting themselves at risk."
You don't say what sort of risk. Getting distracted in the middle of a battle could be dangerous, yes- but that's something you can handle more directly. It's been years since your first deployments, and not much less since any of you were seriously hurt in battle. But the sentiment Curly was expressing was dangerous. However she justified it to herself, it was disobedience. Insubordination. If Command learned about that…
"Well, you can't change your orders." the Chief Engineer lays out, leaning back into her seat and closing her eyes. "Do you think you can get Curly to change how she feels about missions like this?"
"I-" That's not the answer you were hoping for. Curly was right about that mission. It never should have happened in the first place. Even setting aside the morality of it, you accomplished nothing. Wherever Command got their information, it was faulty. The simple possibility of Demon Flowers being present can't justify your team's presence in an otherwise civilian colony. Where could they possibly have been told such a thing? You have no illusions about Command's morality, but their competence isn't so questionable. "I was hoping that you could do something about Command. We shouldn't have been there in the first place."
"I know." the Chief Engineer nods. "But I don't have that much sway in where you're sent. My only job is to make sure you all work as intended- that's my only responsibility."
"I understand." You've heard it before, but you still had to ask.
"Back to what I mentioned earlier- Are you sure there's no way you can get Curly to look at things differently? If Command knew about her thinking these things, it'd only cause us problems."
You shake your head. The tea sitting in front of you has long cooled. You're told that means it's no longer fit for consumption. "You know none of them listen to me. Even if I warned her- I did warn her, about expressing anything dangerous where Command might hear- but it won't help. None of the others understand the gravity of the situation."
"Then you'll need to get her quiet somehow before the wrong people hear." the Chief Engineer decides. She raises her cup to her lips again.
"I don't believe that'll be possible. Not on this matter." you say. It's too personal. The others barely listen to you even on things you have actual authority on. There's no chance Curly would take your word on something you hold no power over.
"I can talk to her, try and find avenues of approach, but it'll be up to you to convince her." the Chief Engineer insists. "If you think that she might not listen to you, we certainly won't listen to me. I'm not like you all, after all. A peer's perspective will be important here."
"I'm still not sure what to do." you confess. What can you do? If the Chief Engineer can't do anything to keep missions like this from being assigned again, all that's left is to make sure Command doesn't notice anything they shouldn't. But you don't know how to do that. You never have. The only member of your team less sociable than you is Paren, and that's because she hates everyone except Chevron.
"At its core, what is Curly Brace's real objection? That you were fighting people who couldn't defend themselves?" the Chief Engineer says. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "That's not new. I know what I made. More than that, I know you don't see Rabid Mimiga on every mission. An improvised militia with swords and scavenged firearms isn't comparable to six of my finest creations. Just because they can shoot back doesn't mean they stand a fighting chance. Unless they have the Red Flowers, they might as well be defenceless."
You say nothing, but slowly nod your head. It's true, isn't it? You were just thinking about it earlier. When it comes to the Mimiga, most of your deployments are foregone conclusions. If only that meant you could actually be at ease.
And it still does nothing to help you keep Curly from endangering herself. If anything, it only makes things worse.
"Then why are we sent out at all?"
The Chief Engineer laughs, a short, dry sound quickly followed by a wheezing breath. "Because Command decides it needs doing, and you're available. You've performed well so far, too, so I can't imagine it'll stop any time soon." Your expression doesn't change, but the Chief Engineer immediately leans forward and softens her voice like she's responding to something you let on. "It could be worse, you know. At least this way you have somewhere to be. It's only thanks to your accomplishments that I've been able to provide for you so well."
It's true, you've had a better life than any of the lesser mechanical soldiers. To your knowledge, they don't do anything between deployments. Your team are at least treated like people.
Were human soldiers allowed to retire or refuse orders? It's been a long time since humans ever saw the field of battle by choice. Machines are just much better in all regards.
"So what should we do?" you ask again.
"If you don't think you can keep Curly from objecting, just be sure to push her objections in the practical direction. Command will accept that." the Chief Engineer suggests.
"I understand." That will be more possible. Curly already accepted that train of thought during the mission. Keeping on it is more within what you can manage. It still feels… there is something unsatisfying about this course of action. You know that you all must appear loyal and willing to serve for Command. Voicing displeasure with your operations is extremely risky. But "displeasure" is the very least of what you should be feeling. "Disgust" is more fitting. "Anger" would be just as correct. It is right to feel these things, but they help nobody. Anger won't protect your team from Command's will. Sadness can't shelter whoever you are pointed at next.
"Oh, I know that look." the Chief Engineer says, cutting you from your tangled thoughts. "Don't blame yourself for what happens on your missions. If it wasn't you being sent out, it would just be somebody else. Whatever those people did to catch Command's eye was their mistake, and there's nothing people like us can do."
"I know." you repeat for what must be the hundredth time. She's said this all before. It never sinks in.
"How about this," she starts. "I've been having trouble with some of the more minute parts of my most recent project." She laughs again as she gestures to the parts scattered across the table between you. "Hands aren't as steady as they used to be. Be grateful you'll never have to deal with getting old. Anyways, I could use someone to handle the parts too precise for me."
"I can do that." you say immediately, attempting to dismiss the weight of the earlier conversation. You could use the distraction and engineering is a good way for you to pass the time. It's a practical skill as well, though you doubt you'll even need to actually perform maintenance on one of your team members. You stand abruptly from your seat and move over to stand by the Chief Engineer's side of the table, overlooking the half-assembled machinery.
"So eager." She laughs once more, quick and thin. "Well, I did ask. Even if nobody else does, I always appreciate your help, Bracket. Now, I need to connect the batteries here to a laminated mesh under the casing so it can…"
You let the Chief Engineer's instructions flow into you and dissect them, pulling out each scrap of meaning to guide your hands through the machinery. They move so carefully, so precisely, so mechanically, and you feel more human than you ever do elsewhere.
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
You are left feeling…
[] Nervous
You're still in a risky position, and there's not much you can do to protect your team.
[] Satisfied
You've done what you can. No point in worrying further
[] Weighed Down
It's becoming overwhelming, everything that you're doing.
[] Write-in
Subject to approval
[] Nervous
You're still in a risky position, and there's not much you can do to protect your team.
[] Satisfied
You've done what you can. No point in worrying further
[] Weighed Down
It's becoming overwhelming, everything that you're doing.
[] Write-in
Subject to approval
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
I wanted this chapter up days ago, but writing this conversation was much more challenging than I'd hoped it would be. This will be the end of this memory, so we're headed back to the present afterwards.
[X] Write-in
-[X] Bitter.
Why can't humans do their own dirty work?
-[X] Bitter.
Why can't humans do their own dirty work?
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
[X] Weighed Down and Stressed Out
You weren't designed for this kind of thing. You don't have the authority to protect your team, you don't have the knowledge to handle the insurmountable problem you stand in front of.
Maybe talking with yourmother creator was a mistake. The answer you arrived at was no answer at all.
A child who just walked is now forced to run. For the sake of the child's family, they kill for those who care not for the child.
Can't fight their own battles, can't handle their own incompetence.
Why must machines do everything for them?
These are useless feelings.
But you are plagued with them regardless.
You weren't designed for this kind of thing. You don't have the authority to protect your team, you don't have the knowledge to handle the insurmountable problem you stand in front of.
Maybe talking with your
A child who just walked is now forced to run. For the sake of the child's family, they kill for those who care not for the child.
Can't fight their own battles, can't handle their own incompetence.
Why must machines do everything for them?
These are useless feelings.
But you are plagued with them regardless.
Last edited:
- Location
- Maybe?
Seeing our mom borderline depressed like this is just sad.
She's full on learnt helplessness.
She's full on learnt helplessness.
- Location
- Maybe?
Sure, on the surface. But then you line things up...
Not that she doesn't have pride in her work. But she's clearly pared her moral universe down to just the six of us, and from the sound of things, not for lack of trying.
cB557
voOOP
You can read those lines as learned helplessness, but coming with a line like this:
I think this update does paint a pretty clear picture of why she's still around.
they read to me less like someone who's tried, failed, and given up, and more like someone's rationalizations for why they never tried at all. Like, if she didn't want to be an accomplice to these sorts of operations, why has she stuck around? She's clearly an expert in her field so she could probably find work elsewhere, unless she's outright being forced to do this work.
I think this update does paint a pretty clear picture of why she's still around.
To me, she sounds like someone who always needs to be working on something, to be making something, and for whom everything that's not that comes second. She recognizes it as a shame that innocent people are being killed, but that is just not as important to her as the fact that this is where she can do her best work.