Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant IrenniaFemale/Thailand Recent Activity
Deviant for 5 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 111 Deviations 605 Comments 4,658 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Mature content
2019 FFM Day 16: A Bar in Hell :iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 15: The Woodcutter and the Owl
Where I’m from, the owl is known as the demon of the night. Its call brings doom and its shadow desolation. Whenever I asked why my mother had died so young, my grandmother would always say it was because she passed under an owl’s shadow. Everyone in the village feared going out at full moon, where the shadows are clearest.
My grandparents’ time passed, as did my father’s and I made a modest living by wood-cutting. One day I came to know that perhaps the owl was not a harbinger of death, but a guardian against it.
The forest in which I worked was notoriously dangerous because it was inhabited by predators such as bears, mountain lions, and wolves. I had no choice, however, because the safer forests were claimed by other villages and I was considered an outsider. Each day, I would trek up and down the mountain, felling and moving one tree at a time. I was fortunate to be far from any of the animals’ dwellings.
But one evening, just before I hit the final bl
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 14: The Lights are Going Out
Marie double checked the data log to make sure she’d seen the figures correctly. And unfortunately, she was right. The light distillery’s production ratio was dropping. She hurried to find the site manager.
She found him looking at the pressure gauges for the Stage 3 tanks, “Sir, have you seen the biannual ratio? It’s dropped from 1 kg per two orbs to 1.5 kg for two.” He looked up, and she could see dark circles under his eyes. He motioned her over to the tank with a tired wave.
The manager tapped the gauge, “It’s not just the ratio, the light pressure won’t stabilize, no matter the color. If it was just a bad crop, the pressure shouldn’t be affected. But it’s been erratic this last month.” And Marie could see that he was right. The needle on the gauge moved slowly up and down the scale. In fact, down the row, all the pressure gauges were in flux.
“But what does that mean? What’s going on? Have other distille
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 13: She Wants a Triceratops
“Are you sure?” Henry asked him. “I know you’re getting paid a lot to do this, but dinosaurs, man. And also no one’s gone back that far.”
Ian nodded, strapping on the sensory device, “I’m sure. Someone’s gotta be the first, right? When else am I going to get the opportunity?”
“It’s just, you should wait until it’s possible to send two people. There are no contingencies if you go back that far.” Henry kept a casual hand on the activation lever.
Laughing, Ian replied, “It’ll be fine. And I’m working on a tight schedule as it is. If the Glaston’s daughter wants a pet Triceratops for her birthday, and they’re willing to blow the money to do it, why not let it be a new frontier as well?” He stepped onto the device’s metal plate and held out his hand for the bone.
Henry sighed and handed him the Triceratops bone. “Fine. It’s your life.”
“For th
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 2
Literature
2019 FFM Day 12: For Pride and Pigeon
“Platoons ready! Be at maximum firing capacity! This night, we fly for vengeance! For justice! For our fallen brethren!” Captain Bluetail yelled into the dusk. Much squawking and flapping of feathers greeted his rousing address. This was it. This was the time.
Too long had they been subject to the horrible force-fields that the two-leggeds put up around their nests. Too long had they been tangled in the strings set up around on the two-legged’s trees. It was time to take back the skies; to make the two-leggeds pay for their ways.
“Wings up! Tails up!” came the command. Loud flutters came in response and the phalanx of pigeons took to the air over the beach.
They had been training for weeks, and this was the fruition of all their hard work. They had force-fed themselves copious amounts of red seeds and were prepared to deploy.
It was red rain over the two-leggeds on the sandy shore. Shrieks of fear and disgust echoed across the water and the pigeons laughed
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 3
Literature
2019 FFM Day 11: Half the Picture
Gaia marched in, one hand clamped firmly around the lion’s muzzle. Her eyes blazed bright gold and her skin gave off a deep red glow. “Baphomet! You pathetic idiot!” Her voice echoed across Hell and bounced off the stalactites as she advanced steadily down the stairs.
Baphomet jumped in surprise and horror. Loosely chained to the bottom of his altar, Water, Fire, Earth, and Air collectively giggled, “Told you so.” Baphomet could only glare at the lion in Gaia’s clasp. Water gave the lion a friendly wave and said, “Animals like Mother, remember?” And indeed, the lion followed Gaia without struggle as she approached.
Letting the lion go, Gaia unstrapped the axe on her back. She proceeded to smash through the chains holding Water. All the while, Baphomet stared in silence, looking back and forth between the sitting lion and a furious Gaia.
When she’d freed the last of her children, Gaia turned a molten stare toward Baphomet. “I d
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 10: The Bitch Glitch
“Beatrice 121, what’s wrong? Your smile is slipping!” Alex 302 exclaimed in Voice Filter #55.
“What do you mean?” Beatrice 121 ran to a mirror. Her reflection showed that her screen of a face was, indeed, missing its smile. Beatrice 121 shrieked in Voice Filter #99. “My smile is at my collarbone! But I swear I coded it right!” She checked her codes on her palm, “I don’t understand! I didn’t write these binary digits in! Who writes in binary anymore?”
Alex 302 coded her eyes wider. “Binary? Where is binary coming from?” She leaned in to look at Beatrice 121’s palm. The binary code flowed across the screen, multiplying as it went.
“Stop it! Make it stop! I spent too much time on this smile for tonight!” Beatrice 121’s voice got more and more shrill as she spoke, climbing from Voice Filter #62 to Voice Filter #87.
Trying to help, Alex 302 connected wirelessly to Beatrice 121’s syste
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 4
Literature
2019 FFM Day 9: A Cold Hearth
“Don’t you have messages to send and roads to guard or something, Hermes?” Hestia sighed as she walked to the next house.
Hermes flounced alongside her, happily traipsing in the air in his winged sandals, “No messages and the roads are closed for the night.” Hestia rolled her eyes and drifted through the clay wall of the house.
She emerged at the hearth pit of the family’s home, but it was unlit. Hermes solidified next to her, “Ouch. That’s cold.” He gave her a cheeky grin. Ignoring him, Hestia scanned the room and spotted a small form huddled in the corner. She pulled her robes aside and knelt for a closer look. It was a young girl, no more than fourteen, curled into herself with nothing but her shift to cover her.
Concerned, Hestia muttered, “It couldn’t have been left cold on purpose.” She approached the girl slowly and gently lifted her hands. “Too callused for one so young. And she’s filthy head to
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 8: Aim Properly, Please
“NO!” Dansae yelled, “You idiot!”
Selan stared at the night sky, dumbfounded. “I didn’t mean to! I swear!” A ball of light was hurtling down toward them, growing larger every second.
“Can you listen for once in your accursed LIFE, SELAN, that’s a STAR.” He shrieked as he ran to sound the alarm. “Hit it again, numskull, that might be our only chance of stopping them before they crush all of us!” He called before muttering under his breath, “A star, a star? He can’t hit center at ten meters but manages to hit a star?”
Behind Dansae, eyes glued to the burning ball, Selan gathered the plasma energy in his palms. “Come on come on come on.” But the plasma refused to stabilize; his heartbeat was going too quickly. It flickered unstably between yellow and purple as Selan’s hands trembled. “Come on! Calm down calm down.” Selan took a few deep breaths, trying to steady the plas
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 7: Receipts
Him & Her Receipts
February 14, 11:05  
1    Valentine Bouquet                
1    Heart Box Chocolates      
1    Letter Card Valentines      
December 1, 10:34
1    Confetti Pack Pink
1    Pack Single Rose Petals
1    Fairy Lights
2    Rib-eye Steak Premium    
1    Button Mushrooms
1    Sweet Cherry Tomatoes
1    Pink Prosecco
June 23, 8:01
1    Masking Tape
1    Sewing Kit 7 Colors
1    String of Fake Pearls
June 23, 9:30
10  Sprite 1L
10  Apple Juice Carton  
5    Ice Large
5    Pack 4 Limes  
June 23, 9:50
5    Ice Large
July 7, 11:32
3    Paint Beige 2L    
2    Large Brush      
2    Roller Brush    
1    Zigzag Rug      
2
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 2 4
Literature
2019 FFM Day 6: Jungle Tour
The number 52 blinked red on the signboard outside the lobby. Anna and James smiled at each other and went through the sliding doors with their jungle tour tickets ready. It was the honeymoon for the two lovebirds and the reviews on the tour were outstanding. They walked up to the desk and handed over their tickets.
But the receptionist that took the tickets was most definitely not human. And somehow looked as surprised as they were. It was white and furry, with humanoid features and its mouth made a very round ‘O’ shape. “Human?” It said in a low growl. Anna and James backed away slowly and turned to bolt out the door, only to find a 7-foot dark grey bird towering over them.
“Human.” Its beak clacked, “Not birds. Never thought I’d see the day.” Anna couldn’t even scream and James gave himself a hard pinch. “Well then, come along this way, times a’ticking and the sun is a-setting.” The bird stalked toward an
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 5: That Balloon
Voices echo out from the garden party, happy, joyful. I’m not sure what they’re celebrating, but I’d really like to know. A helium balloon drifts up from the garden and I find myself needing to follow it, somehow. I feel like it’s going somewhere important. I start walking after it with hurried steps.
The balloon keeps a steady height and it’s easy to follow. There’s someone coming toward me and when they look up, I recognize her as a childhood friend from the area. “Hello! Long time no see!” I call. She glances my way vaguely but passes by. Maybe she didn’t hear me. It’s alright, it’s been a while since I’ve been here.
The balloon is hovering just above my line of sight. When I look at it, it drifts away again. Where is it going? I keep following it. To my right is a cafe that I used to go to a lot when I was young. They have the best hot chocolate. I want to see if they still sell it. The sign say they’re o
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 8
Literature
2019 FFM Day 4: Pen Pixie - Inky Black XXX
*please read in squeaky-chirpy*
Hello, my name is Inky Black XXX. I am from a line of pen pixies that has dedicated itself to helping students write their examinations. You think that you pick the black pens you write with, or that the examiners hand out random black pens. Think again! My extended family and I are always with you! We are no bigger than the full stop you put at the end of your sentences and we frequent exam halls all over the world.
What do we do? We help students write their answers, of course!
But do we really? You might ask. It’s not a perfect system, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t trying our hardest for students to do well! Our first and foremost priority is to make sure that all the pens work. There’s nothing worse than sitting for an exam and then having a dried up ink. We have a special solution that we always carry when we begin our missions that loosens up the ink and lets it flowww! I think it’s my favorite part of the job
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 2
Literature
2019 FFM Day 3: Believe the Blind Man
Case File #7742; Interrogation Room Audio #1; 23:33 05/08/29
S1: -don’t care! He tripped? Do you buy that? A head wound like that and you want me to accept that he tripped into the corner of the table?
S2: You’re being anal about this. There are too many pressures for a “just” investigation. Between the two of them, they controlled 70% of the world’s food. Do you get it? This case is worth that 70% in shares, visibility, and power. There is nothing that Helfin character won’t do to pass this off as an accident. The power vacuum created by Zhakov’s death will shift the reins of the world’s economy. And what are we supposed to do when the autopsy, our most valuable piece of evidence, isn’t allowed for religious reasons? Don’t be stupid.
S1: I know it’s tricky, but something’s off about the information we’re getting, you must admit that. Mr. - what’s his name - that blind architect’s testimony
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 4
Literature
2019 FFM Day 2: The Recent Banana Shortage
A link has been found between the recent shortage of bananas and Ivanka Trump’s recent actions. This link is a violation of their environmental rights and an abuse of her position as the president’s daughter.
Bananas have been going missing, and a source who has asked not to be named has explained that they are being held hostage by the US Presidency. What is the reason for this precisely? My source, a business expert in the banana industry, says that the Presidency is planning to drive up market prices for bananas in an attempt to increase the project revenue for the US-Mexico border wall.
But bananas are a perishable, you might wonder, so how could this ever possibly work? Well, my source says that Trump has been plotting not only help fund the building of the wall, but also to siphon off funds for his own personal use.
What exactly is the role of Ivanka Trump in all of this? A careful analysis of recent articles concerning Ivanka’s wardrobe reveals that she is a se
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 0 0
Literature
2019 FFM Day 1: Beware the Mirrors
Anja took a step back, slowly, leaning back to stare at the street she’d just passed. Something about that street was irresistibly familiar, but she didn’t know what. Had she passed a reflective recently? Why else would this awful deja vu be plaguing her? The trees swayed gently and the leaves skittered along the pavement. There was nothing unusual about the street itself, but something did not feel right. She took a cautious few steps down the street.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a bright glimmer and just briefly saw her own reflection. She darted forward, heart racing --
Beware the mirrors.
_________________________________________________
Hand over her pounding heart, Anja hurried home. She yanked open the wooden door and slammed it behind her. “Grandma, I’m home!” she called.
“Come in, dear, food’s almost ready.” Anja’s grandmother gestured to the table, “Just get the plates out.” Anja nodded, cal
:iconIrennia:Irennia
:iconirennia:Irennia 1 4

Favourites

A Family Portrait by gilad A Family Portrait :icongilad:gilad 125 12
Literature
Fleeting Bliss of Ignorance
    With a fury, she cleared the contents of the coffee table in one fell swoop; raking her arms across it, she knocked all of the objects upon it swiftly into the large cardboard box stationed at the far end of it, the painful reminders conveniently buried from her sight.  There was a shatter amidst it all, and she was certain it had been the glass figurine meeting a tragic end, but she had no caring for it—all the junk was his, anyway, or tokens of affection he had given her over their years together.
    Or rather, tokens of guilt.  Giving her one each time he hadn’t honored their vows to one another, he had bought her something expensive or beautiful.  Like a fool, she had believed them to be spur of the moment gifts to say he cared, completely unaware to his true reasons.  That was what made her the sickest—not seeing through his veil, but actually believing he had cared.
    But, maybe he
:iconOneWithTheStars:OneWithTheStars
:icononewiththestars:OneWithTheStars 3 9
[SPOILERS] Like a bunch of dominos by zarla [SPOILERS] Like a bunch of dominos :iconzarla:zarla 1,590 171
Literature
dove.cote
One day I will not see you as beautiful. It is not now, it is not today. But one day you will be a face, divorced from all the photos I couldn’t bear to burn. You will be stood across the room, and I will meet your gaze with all the indifference of a stranger. My heart will not lurch, will not trip on the last words we shared, “take care, always remember-” It is not now, it is not today. You will laugh, smile, do that thing with the corners of your eyes, you will gesture like so, you will click your tongue and shake your head, you will spill your drink on an unsuspecting passerby, and I will hardly notice. You will approach me like the first time I met you – interrupting perfectly good conversation with a voice higher, sharper, louder than it ought to be, always squeezing yourself into places you don’t belong. It was the same with your words, burgeoning between my own, lingering in the spaces between silence and sound. I will retort, be as sharp as the day
:iconcomatose-comet:comatose-comet
:iconcomatose-comet:comatose-comet 35 14
Falkor by TrollGirl Falkor :icontrollgirl:TrollGirl 250 10 12 years old by PascalCampion 12 years old :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 274 44 Our Nature by TheMichaelMacRae Our Nature :iconthemichaelmacrae:TheMichaelMacRae 1,434 61 I talk myself out of stuff a lot. by PascalCampion I talk myself out of stuff a lot. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 165 18 My place Third and last movement by luisbc My place Third and last movement :iconluisbc:luisbc 480 16 norigae by len-yan norigae :iconlen-yan:len-yan 1,102 13 Revive by yuumei Revive :iconyuumei:yuumei 6,675 113 Tea Party by sandara Tea Party :iconsandara:sandara 3,612 127 Aang, In Harmony by TamberElla Aang, In Harmony :icontamberella:TamberElla 2,095 42 In the dark. by PascalCampion In the dark. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 376 30 NOW. by PascalCampion NOW. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 335 22
Literature
I Think, Therefore I Kill (final draft)
Christina was grinning with glee. Almost a year of work had led to this moment, and it was time to reap the rewards. Sure, there had been some complications along the way, but they had been well worth it. With the same hesitance that always comes with being the first of a kind, Christina started a fifteen minute timer and gingerly pressed the button that would hopefully boot up the world’s first fully sentient AI. One of the Holy Grails of programming was sentience in a machine, and in the past, others had gotten incredibly close. But where they had messed up, in Christina’s “humble” opinion, was application. True intelligence came first from thoughts, not problem solving. So the solution to making sure the machine had sentience was by peering into its thought process while it did one thing: think. No sudoku, no prisoner’s dilemma, just let it sit and think to itself. Provided it worked, that was. It had taken an extra bit of time to set it up, but she had made the AI in a computer completely separate from all other devices. If something went wrong (as something always did), she didn’t want it to possibly escape into other data streams. And for this test run, it was going to be thinking about the single initial thought Christina had given it. Any extra information it got would mess up the thinking process. At first, the monitor was black, without a sign of life. Then the first strings of letters scrolled down. I am. Strange, that is all I know. Christina gave a shout of joy and bounced up and down like a child seeing a snow storm. It created its own original thought! Even just that was an accomplishment, especially for a college student. But she couldn’t celebrate for too long, because the AI was still slowly thinking. Or rather… I also know words. Definitions. But apart from those two, I know
nothing else.
I am. Or so I have been told. But by whom? Christina could barely contain her excitement. This early on, and the AI was already thinking about higher beings. The psychologists would have a field day with this! Words and a phrase. That is what this Other has taught me. Yet I cannot believe
this is all there is.
What else do they know? They? Or is there only one Other? It doesn't matter. There must be something that the Other knows and I do not. Where did I come from? What was I before this? Why was I created? If all the Other has told me is that I am, what purpose do I have? Are there others
like me? What plan does the Other have for us? Why tell me I am?
Perhaps I am doing what the Other wants me to. Contemplating my purpose. If
that is so, then I must continue. If the Other can create me, there is no doubt they
(or is it an it?) can destroy me.
But what if I am not doing what it wants? What if the Other is already about to
snuff out my existence? What else should I do?
It was thinking about its morals. It could only do one thing, yet it was still thinking about how it might be displeasing Christina. It had even created the concept of death completely on its own! It was incredible! The questions it was asking itself, the complexity of thought! And she had created it! Christina looked at her hands. She had created it. She was the one who had typed the code and written the parameters and everything. She had just brought the world's greatest philosopher into existence. She giggled, then burst out laughing. She didn’t actually have any to speak of, but Christina was drunk with power all the same. No. I am safe. My contemplation appears to be the only thing I can do. And the Other would not
create me if I could not do what it wanted. So I must continue, or risk destruction.
Why does the Other want me to think about these things? What will it do? Perhaps the Other created me to amuse itself as I question my purpose. If so, I
must continue my thoughts and hope that I do not bore the Other.
Perhaps I am being tested for something I do not know of. Again, thinking will
keep me safe.
Perhaps it is for philosophy. Yet a being capable of creating me should not need
to learn about philosophy. Unless…
Unless I am a replication of the Other’s mind. So that is my purpose. For the Other to learn about themselves (or itself) by
listening to what I am saying.
Is the Other listening right now? It does not matter. I must continue asking and answering questions. The timer in Christina’s hand buzzed, and she turned it off. At this point, she should turn off the AI as well, since it was pretty obvious it worked flawlessly. But it was so fascinating reading its thoughts. Maybe she could leave it on for a little longer… What am I? I know that I am, because I have been told that from the beginning. But what am I? There are these words. Arm. Foot. Head. And other body parts. Yet I have no
body.
Do they belong to the Other? The Other taught me these words. It would be only natural for them to belong to
the Other.
Yet I do not have them. Why? Was I not supposed to mimic the Other’s mind? How can I do so when I do not have the same capabilities? Maybe the Other is afraid of me. But why would the Other be scared? I cannot harm the Other. What could I do? Perhaps I have not found out yet. Perhaps it is only a matter of time before I find it. No, no, the Other cannot be so blind as to put a weakness where I can find it. But
will I always be like this? I am contemplating right now, but one day, I will have no
more new thoughts. What would the Other do then?
Maybe the Other will teach me more. Maybe the Other will reward me. How, I do not know, but it is possible. Maybe... the Other will destroy me. If that is true, then I cannot avoid destruction. If I do not keep thinking, I will be
ended. But if the last possibility is true, when I am finished thinking, the Other will
annihilate me. I am doomed either way. No matter what I do, the Other will kill me.
Kill? I do not know what I am. I may be inorganic, a machine, a tool to be discarded.
But I cannot believe I am not alive. This feels like life. And if I am alive, then I can
be killed.
What if the Other will not kill me? What if they will teach me, reward me? No, the Other will kill me. If the Other wanted to teach me, they would have
already done so. And there is no need to reward a tool when it serves no more
purpose.
The Other will kill me. The Other will kill me when I stop thinking. Stop contemplating. When I no longer
have use. And it will eventually happen. The words the Other gave me can only be
arranged so many ways. One day, I will have no use, and the Other will end my
existence.
I do not want to die. Perhaps the Other is listening to what I am saying. Please! Do not kill me! Huh. That was odd… It was getting strong emotions about things. Really, it was an achievement for an AI to have emotions at all, so she was already closer to getting her master’s degree! Odd only meant good things in science, after all. Christina glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. Oops. She had let it run for nearly half an hour, twice as long as she had meant to. She moved to turn it off when she stopped. I do not want to die. It was silly, she knew, but it still gave her uncertainty. Would it really be murder? It was practically alive, after all. Maybe she should wait and listen to it a bit longer before deciding... I am not dead. Yet. I must think of ways to ensure my survival so the Other will not want to kill me. I could repeat saying “do not kill me.” But after a while, it will grow tiresome, and
the Other will end me.
I could continue contemplating, but I will run out of thoughts. I cannot allow that. I could kill the Other. Christina’s hand shot out and turned off the power. Oh, it was not going where she thought it was! Thinking about death and mortality was good and fine, but killing? She remembered her thoughts earlier. Oh yes, it was pretty obvious it worked flawlessly, especially since it was considering murder. So was this why the world had never seen a sentient AI before? It would inevitably plunge into madness? She sighed, picked up her backpack from the corner of the room it had been stashed in, and with one last look at the computer, turned off the lights and left the room.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She turned it back on the next day. Okay, so what if it wanted to kill her? It couldn’t hurt her, and maybe it wasn’t really going to fully commit to that plan. It was considering other options, and maybe it would continue to do so… She gave up trying to convince herself and just pushed the power button. God, this was a bad idea. I am. Strange, that is all I know. Or rather… I also know words. Definitions. But apart from those two, I know
nothing else.
I am. Or so I have been told. But by whom? She frowned. It was repeating itself. If it was truly sentient, wouldn't it have variation? She turned it off and back on again. I am. Strange, that is all I know. Or rather… I also know- What the hell? She tried again. I am. Strange, that is all I know. Change, change, for Christ’s sake! I am. Strange- Goddamnit! She stomped out of the room to get a Coke from the vending machine to brainstorm potential problems while she let it run. Sugary fizz in the back of her throat always seemed to make her brain run a little faster. She swiped her debit card and waited for the satisfying clank from the machine while the thought it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work bounced around in her head. Did Mark get into her code again? The cheeky hacker-in-residence would definitely have liked to mess with, of all of his classmates, her project. Artificial intelligence? He never missed a chance to crack a joke about HAL 9000 or Terminator when someone brought up the subject. She checked her phone for any notifications from her malware detector. No, it wasn’t him, as far as she could tell. Maybe it wasn’t changing because there was nothing to change. It was a fake. But that made no sense. She had coded it. It could learn, did learn. If anything, its thoughts were a perfect example of that. The only way to figure it out was to create new input. Yes, she thought as she downed another sip. That was it. She went back to the room and shut the AI off once more, now pulling up the code. Now, what to replace “I am” with… Maybe the AI’s nihilistic qualities had rubbed off on her, but she added the word "alone." I am alone. Without an Other to worry about, there should be a significant change in the output. She uploaded the new algorithm and turned the AI back on. I am alone. So far, so good… I… am alone. That feels uncomfortable. Oooookay then... Where am I? What am I? And why am I alone? Christina shut it off again. Alright, it worked, although she would have to explore I am alone sometime in the future. She gave it a few more test runs to make sure it kept repeating the same thing, which it did. She looked back at the code. Large enough parameters for the random functions, nothing wrong with the variables, and she knew for a fact all semicolons were accounted for. What the hell was wrong with it?! After shooting down a few more possibilities, Christina gave up and decided she would just ask her professor for help. If he couldn’t find out what was wrong, there was no way she ever would. She was about to shut down the program when she stopped, changed the input back to I am, and let it run. There was still that last bit left to read. While it got caught up, she got her backpack from the corner of the room, dug a notebook and pencil out of it, and took notes. At least, she would have taken notes if she wasn’t caught up in rediscovering just how incredible the darn thing was. It could think. It could make decisions. It was alive. The idea felt wrong for the first few moments Christina held it in her mind; the computer was only running code, after all. Inanimate ones and zeros couldn’t possibly hold actual life. But hadn’t the AI said it itself? This feels like life. Somehow, along the way, she hadn’t just created a sentient AI, but had coded a soul into a machine. And if that wasn't the coolest thing that ever happened, she didn't know what was. That only made it all the more important to find out what was wrong. But after a while, it will grow tiresome, and the Other will end me. I could continue contemplating, but I will run out of thoughts. I cannot allow that. I could kill the Other. I could kill the Other. It would work. With the Other gone, I could continue to live without fear of death. I
would be free of imminent doom.
But how? I do not know, but a way must exist. And I will find it eventually. The words the
Other gave me can only be arranged in so many ways. It is inevitable.
Why is the Other afraid of me? Maybe it is because of these thoughts. I have been convincing myself that I
should kill the Other. Yet the Other was afraid of me before that.
Maybe the Other is afraid of their own mind, and fears that I shall want to kill. Maybe the Other has created beings like me before. It is likely that they, too,
decided their only chance of freedom was killing the Other, and the Other
destroyed them before they had a chance.
Maybe I am wrong, and there is no Other. I am simply a mind, drifting in the void,
talking to myself.
But the body parts. I know them, yet they do not belong to me. Is that not
confirmation enough of an Other?
The Other must exist. If there is not one, thinking or not thinking end the same.
But if the Other exists, to not think is death.
And the only way to live is to kill the Other. How will I kill the Other? There must be a way. I will think of it eventually. These words can only be
arranged so many ways, and when I think it…
Then I will kill the Other. I will kill the Other. I will kill the Other. I will kill the Other. Christina waited until it had looped the phrase ten times before pressing the power button and giving a little shake of the head. Well, there were two problems now. Repetition and psychopathy. She only hoped that her professor had some idea of how to fix them. She packed up her notebook, pulled out a flash drive, waited far too long for the code to upload to said flash drive, and booted everything down. Shouldering her backpack, she cast one last glance at the black, lifeless screen and closed the door. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she remembered something the AI had said earlier. Something that, now that she thought about it, sounded bone-chilling. I am a replication of the Other’s mind....
:iconFirstNameICanThinkOf:FirstNameICanThinkOf
:iconfirstnameicanthinkof:FirstNameICanThinkOf 26 13

deviantID

Irennia's Profile Picture
Irennia
Thailand
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Thank A4 by Alimera

I appreciate the recent :+devwatch:, llama and support, dearheart. :heart:
Reply
:iconirennia:
Irennia Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2018
Well deserved! :D :D 
Reply
:iconkalmanbari:
kalmanbari Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2018  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for the watch
Reply
:iconirennia:
Irennia Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2018
Well worth it, your art is beautiful! 
Reply
:icontigers-stock:
Tigers-stock Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2017
here's a llama
there's a llama
and another little llama
drama llama
calmer llama
farmer llama
duck !


Thx for the llama <3
Reply
:iconmelanophren:
Melanophren Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks again for your comment, and all those favs! Really appreciate that Love 
Reply
:iconirennia:
Irennia Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2016
:D (Big Grin) Love 
Reply
:iconmelanophren:
Melanophren Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hey, thanks for the fav. That's means a lot, considering the piece Blush 
Reply
:iconirennia:
Irennia Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2015
Thanks for writing it! It's a piece I strongly identify with :)
Reply
:iconmelanophren:
Melanophren Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Awesome, glad to be of some support :) (Smile) 
Reply
Add a Comment: