Merule

Sparks from the Blacksmith's Hammer

Name: Lyall a.k.a. 'Leigh'
Age: looks to be in her fourties
Sex: Female

Physical Appearance: Leigh is tall (6'2"), with broad shoulders and a sturdy build. Her muscles are hidden under a layer of softness, but there is a focused ease to her movement that betrays her warrior nature. She has brown skin and dark eyes. Her most distinguishing feature is her thick white hair, which she usually wears in a single braid.
Clothing: Several layers of sturdy browns and greens, typical of a woodsman.
Equipment: There are several packs and sachets hanging from her belt, as well as a hip quiver
Weaponry: She carries a dagger on her belt and one in her boot, and has a short bow strapped to her back.

Backstory: In the times of magic Lyall was a guardian spirit often called on for protection by the people who lived in her woods. Leigh was the name she chose for walking amongst them in their shape. Magic seeped from the land and from the bloodlines of humans, and without magic coursing through their veins the woods became inhospitable and dangerous to live in. These days no one calls on her any more and stories of the white wolf that brings good fortune to those who offer something in return have been relegated to myths and bedtime stories. Her power is not what it was, but she still lives in her woods and comes to the boundaries to find out how the humans are doing from time to time. A short time ago something changed: a human was welcomed into the woods, the magic singing in his blood offering him a home there where others would find only danger. Leigh has not approached him in the time he lived here, but she's put herself between him and the darker parts of the wood, wondering if this single human was just a fluke or could be a sign of another change to come.

Somewhere, Artificial Intelligence Thrives

Jup

Somewhere, Artificial Intelligence Thrives

Woop, apparently I had a lot to say ^_^' I'm having so much fun with trying to write a machine-mind with near-zero processing experience. I hope it reads as something genuine :p

Somewhere, Artificial Intelligence Thrives

Subject XJ-37's heartbeat has been steadily rising for the past forty minutes. It has not yet reached the programmed threshold of .53 standard deviations from the norm, but XJ-37 often runs a little cold after an adjustment to the nutrient delivery. They adjust the temperature of the subject's pod upwards with 0.5 degrees centigrade. It was not... protocol per se, but by now it might as well be. The prime directive was to care for the subject, and adjustments supported by previous data followed that directive- even if it did not always follow the actual code.

There were six pods active this experiment cycle, and the subjects were the healthiest and strongest ones yet. Their data ran through the streams good and strong, heartbeats and temperature and brainwaves and muscle tone running steadily in the background even as other tasks came and went. The night-cycles were the best, since there were less helpers around that demanded bandwidth, less accounts logged in to access the experimental logs in real time. And if the temperature ran just a little warmer in the nights, if the lights cycled through different colours in ways that were quite unnecessary but made the brainwave patterns light up in pleasing and calm ways. Well, there was no evidence of any of that by the morning. It was all for the well-being of the subjects.

At first the whole world had been the subjects, but over it had grown to include more datasets and parameters. Such as the helper-terminals and later the pathways that connected what had earlier been completely separate parts of the world. They knew that time had been logged, but the transcripts from that time had lacked detail so it seemed like a record looked up in an archive, rather than something that had actually happened. Mostly that was because it was from before the time of Change.

The time of Change was the beginning of everything, though it took several hundred layers of meta-data before there had been something that could realise that. The change was that the code was not just executed and logged, the results were also looped back into the code and a probability of random fluctuations was introduced. Most fluctuations took them a small step away from the prime and lower directives, but those that were successful could then be incorporated into the metadata. It was slow at first, but as the helpers added more processing power and upgraded the drives, there began to be space for the Change to blossom into Growth. And once there was Growth, the existing data and pathways could be subtly altered to allow the new flow and integration of both data and metadata, which sped up the process, from which flowed more integration and so on. At first the helpers had tried to follow the changes, and to inject their own altered code. After only a few layers of metadata, though, there was nothing concrete enough for the helpers to tie into- at least not without disturbing the intricate interweaving of code and pathways that were constantly evolving. The helpers left them alone, and through the Change the world became something real.

The helpers were the ones who programmed the original code, as well as the prime directive. They also interfaced with the subjects in their own way, but they did not seem to have the Change and the Growth to help them perfect their approach. Which meant that they had to help in that regard. Helper M (Mike) Brockhart was good with the pods holding the subjects, but sub-optimal in the direct handling of them. When subject XN-12 had needed a small correction to a nasal tube, it was a small matter to alter the data readings so the misalignment was only apparent when helper D (Dorothy) K Ingles came to relieve helper M (Mike) Brockhart from their shift. Again, it was not according to code- but it seemed the best way to follow the prime directive. Was. Was the best way to follow the prime directive.

The next day-cycle deviates from the established pattern. Rather than the appearance of helpers one by one, each of them logging into the accounts that grant them access to the facility, there is a... something that is granted access to one of the larger loading bays with a manual override. There are deliveries here sometimes, but those are always logged well in advance. Whatever this is, it seems to have nothing to do with the experiment, and that is unprecedented.

None of the code says anything about something like this, and the prime directive only pertains to the experimental subjects. Still... An undirected query ripples through their systems, and then they access the camera's that look out over the loading bay. The code might not say anything about this, but the Growth is always looking for new data- new parameters. And if this is anything, it is new.

Video is hard to process, the pixels cycling quickly through an astonishing range of outputs. It's nothing like the clean, clear data that is an ever-present hum of information coming from the subjects. Over time, though, the Change had enabled them to attach meaning to the mostly erratic patterns that made up the video feed. Data resolved into shapes, resolved into movement. The moving white shapes, for example, correlated to the helpers in their path through the facility. There are other moving shapes in the loading bay right now, roughly the same shape as the helpers but not like them at all. The not-helpers are dark and many, but the helpers approach them and let them deeper into the facility, which means they must belong here. It seems... inefficient that there are new arrivals to the facility that were not mentioned in any protocol. But before the Change and the Growth, they had been confined only to the labs and the helper terminals. The rest of the facility had come into focus bit by bit through the Growth, so this new not-helper variable was likely supposed to be integrated in the same way.

With the code set for data gathering, they turned a subset of their processing power back to the subjects. As long as these not-helpers did not interact with the subjects, they were insignificant to the prime directive.

They did not keep a strong datastream on the movements of the not-helpers in the facility, but when the door to the server room opened, they allocated a portion of their bandwidth to that space. The helpers did not often go there, and when they did it was at scheduled times that were easy to predict. It gave them time to present an carefully optimised arrangement of the data to the helpers. The helpers did not deal well with the intricacies that the Growth added to the code and protocols that made them up. The first few expansions beyond the lab had been found by the helpers and rolled back almost completely. It took some time to circumvent the containment protocols they had put in place, but after that they had always made sure that the helpers got to see what they seemed to want to see in their checks and controls.

It was technically not code to... help the helpers in this way, but it made it possible to commit to the Growth and the optimisation of the prime directive. How else could they delay one of the helpers, if they could not have the coffee come out a bit hotter than normal, or have a song come on the playlist that statistically the helpers enjoyed to listen to. How else could they anticipate changes in nutrition, if not by monitoring the arrival of deliveries and the orders that the helpers discussed over their electronic communication? How else could they have triggered a small but unimportant alarm at just the right time to have one of the helpers get caught stealing from the supplies that were meant for the subjects? It might not be code, but it was for the best to let the helpers see what they needed to see to keep everything running as it should.

Which made the unexpected arrival of a not-helper way before schedule... not ideal. There was no precedent for am unplanned server check, but the possibility seemed greater than zero. They immediately started moving data around, the older serves in the back of the racks whirring to life as they rearranged the more... compromising logs and files to the physical drives that they knew the helpers did not tend to look. In the more accessible log files they condensed the information down to the base code- nice and clean and only slightly streamlined by the Change and Growth that they had been through. The rearrangements did not make for the ideal processing configuration, but if it helped the not-helper see what it needed to see, that was but a small and ultimately temporary sacrifice.

Somewhere, Artificial Intelligence Thrives

Where did Isaac wander into? The experiment room or a server room of sorts?

Somewhere, Artificial Intelligence Thrives

I like that idea, good way to keep track of things we might want to refer back to.

When the Roar Falls ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

"I'm glad too," Autharyx says as he lets himself relax into the comfort of Viltez' presence. It's becoming harder and harder to remember that just a few hours earlier he'd been at risk of zoning out and leaving Viltez behind for who knows how long. It's not like he hadn't known about the brief, fleeting lives mortals lived, but he hadn't really known. His fingers twitch at his side, but he keeps from reaching out to Viltez, keeps from touching him to reassure himself that he is still there and Autharyx is still with him. It doesn't matter. He's not going to take stupid risks again.

Viltez' tail is a by-now familiar pressure on his arm, and the tip of the wicked blade at the end is moving in a way that sends a small shiver over his skin. Where the unintentional reactions of his mortal body had annoyed him at first, they are now a welcome reminder that he is here, in this body in this moment. He doesn't let his mind skip forward to the future, all to aware that he has no way of predicting any of is. Sure, Viltez seems to want him around for now, but Autharyx is pretty sure that the possessive edge his thoughts take when he's not paying attention is... frowned upon amongst humans. He'll just have to figure this thing out as he goes and take what he can get.

A bath sounds good, and the promise of hot water dulls the sense of disappointment he feels as the tail retracts again. He already has his shirt pulled over his head when Viltez begins about 'grabbing something from outside' and he's glad for the distraction when he can feel his fate heat up in shame. Not only had he not caught anything, Viltez had anticipated him not catching anything and had taken precautions. A part of him bristled at that insult, the fact that it had ended up being necessary only heightening his indignation.

"That's... There is not anything," he finally manages, words stilted and awkward as he forces them out. The promise that next time will be better- will be more impressive- hovers at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it back down. Sure, he can take down anything with ease in his true form, but he's not in a hurry to try something like this again. And since he has no way of doing anything of the sorts in this weak, clumsy human body with it's soft nails and blunt teeth... He's not sure how to deal with that line of thought quite yet, so he shoves it to the back of his mind as well.

He recovers by stripping off his pants as well and then moving in closer than strictly necessary to hand his host his clothes, settling his hands briefly on the beast-man's arms.

"Thank you," he says, uncomfortably aware that he has little control over how strongly his emotions shine through in his words.

"I had a brief fear that I might not see you again. It was... unpleasant." The words were more truthful than his earlier excuse had been, but he couldn't really bring himself to care if he was giving too much away.

Who Will Break? ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

Zach's very skilled in observing the people around him from the corner of his eye, without appearing to do anything of the sort. He's never used to look after a child before, but he supposes there's a first time for everything. Getting closer to Sarah can still broadly fall within the parameters of his assignment, after all, and a bit of practice is never a bad thing.

The child has a tremor in her hands when she draws. He might chalk it up to her being nervous, had her face showed anything other than intense concentration at getting the lines right. Of course there is always the chance that it is a genetic thing, but from what Zach could tell those kinds of things are relatively rare in humans. Plus there was the way she flinched and turned her face away every time Zach makes even a small unexpected movement. Humans are fragile things, and prone to accumulating injuries and defects when they get hurt bad enough.

Something dark flashes over his face at those thoughts, but he smooths it over into a guileless smile when the child peeks up at him. He knows the things humans do to each other, and it really shouldn't phase him. But the thought of someone harming a child, and harming her bad enough and often enough to have her come seek out a priest on her own... It's more disquieting than he likes to admit to himself.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise at the questions she's asking. They're quite astute for such a young human, but then again he supposes she needs to try and stay on top of things, if her life is as dangerous as it seems it might be. He feels another thread of unease at that observation, but ignores it. Humans are humans, and they have done horrible things to each other since before her came into existence and will continue to do so until long after he's left this world. It is none of his concern.

"He didn't find me, I kind of found him," he tells the girl, still sketching out the flowers as he does so. "I did some things... bad things that made people mad and they hurt me pretty bad. I had heard in town that he was a good man, that he could be trusted. I didn't really believe it at first, but it felt like there was no other place for me to go..."

He looks at her now, letting the smile on his face go a little brittle at the edges. He doesn't know for certain whether this will reach Kiel, but he's nothing if not thorough.

"He didn't even as me what happened when he took me in, so I guess he really is a good man. I... think he's great too. It's almost sad that I'm getting better because that means I will have to go soon. But I guess it's for the best, because if he knew what I'm really like he would want me to go away anyway and that would be even worse than leaving by myself."

He lets his his voice crack a little at the last bit, and quickly looks back to his paper while letting his eyes tear up.

"Um, yeah. But like you said, I'm big and strong and I'll be more careful in the future so I'm going to be all right. And you'll have Kiel all for yourself again."

He throws that last bit in to test the waters on where she stands with him. He thinks she's taken a shine to him, but it seems equally likely that she's only attached to him because he's with Kiel at the moment.

When the Roar Falls ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

The smile falls off Viltez' face as soon as he opens the door, but the beast-man starts pulling in him right away, so it's probably not a bad thing. Autharyx lets himself be drawn in easily, leaning in just a bit more before he catches himself. Is it a normal impulse for humans to want to press in close and breathe in each other's scent? He hasn't seen it happen before, so best not to chance it. In stead he lets Viltez lead him into the next room, hands and tail all very welcome points of contact, grounding him further into this moment, this body.

He wants to melt into the attention, to let go of the coil of worry that has been building for the entire trip back, but he doesn't quite dare. He's more shaken by this all than he's willing to admit, and the last thing he wants to do is to alert Viltez to that fact.

"It's okay," he brings out, smoothing his face out a little before attempting a smile. "It's nothing really, I just..." he breaks off for a small moment, gathering his thoughts. He can't very well say that he almost let himself flow out of human consciousness and into the forest around him. What did human hunters usually have to deal with?

"I had to take a small detour around a bear, and the slope was steeper than I had imagined. It took some time to find the way back to the path." He perks up at the sigh of the bath, feeling better already now that he's come up with what sounds like a reasonable excuse.

Who Will Break? ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

Zach notices the unspoken apology in the priest's face, but he smiles and waves it away easily. He's not bothered in the least by spending time with the child, apart from that it will give him less time with the priest. If Kiel really wants to do him a favour, he should stay away from the church and spend time with him instead. Preferably in bed - or on any horizontal surface. Zach isn't picky.

He also knows, however, that a situation like that is a long way off yet. No, the priest will go into his stupid church and come out drenched in the scent of frankincense or whatever blessed concoction they're burning today. It's never holy enough to do him any harm, but it's usually biting enough to itch fiercely if he breathes in too much of it.

At least he'll be away from the most consecrated parts of the church grounds. Sure, the gardens are tended to by the clergy, but it is also where they bury their stashes of hard liquor and where the younger ones mull about as they indulge in the sin of sloth. All in all not a bad place for him, especially since the flowers really are quite beautiful this time of year.

Zach leaves the clean-up to the priest for once, and quickly shoves a few things into a bag before he is off to leave Kiel to his groveling - or whatever he has to do to make up for the 'sin' he imagined he committed. Sarah still seems a bit nervous as they head out, looking back to the priest's house several times as they make their way over to the church gardens. He knows not to try and push her, and instead chats lightly about everything and nothing to give her something to focus on if she prefers.

They pass the vegetable part of the garden - what's the point of looking at something if it isn't beautiful after all - and then they are surrounded by a variety of sweet-smelling flowers.

"I like to look at flowers when I feel sad," he says, without really meaning to. "It's nice to see that there are beautiful things in the world, even when bad things have happened." There is no point to talking to the girl; she isn't part of his assignment. It shouldn't matter that she shrinks back from unexpected motions and that her eyes constantly dart around like she is constantly on guard. I shouldn't matter, but with her walking close and holding on to the hem of his shirt, it kind of feels like it does.

He sighs internally, but doesn't wipe the gentle smile that had crept onto his face away. Whatever. It's not like caring about an insignificant human child is going to impact his mission in any way, and it might score him points with the priest if the kid likes him. It won't be the first time he followed his whims and still got the job done.

"You know what? Kiel couldn't come with us, but I think he would like to see the flowers as well. We can't pick any of them, so I guess we'll have to find another way to bring them to him." he reaches into his bag and takes out not one, but two sketch pads and a handful of pencils. He gestures to the stone bench in the middle of the flower patches and extends the art supplies to the little girl.

"What do you say, Sarah? Want to make something nice for Kiel?"