Robot: “No thank you, I’ll pass. I’ve met him before – the experience was underwhelming. He’s honestly a bit of a creep. I asked him why he made me capable of feeling physical pain, and you know what he said?”
Human: “Uh… I meant ‘meet your maker’ as in ‘I’m going to kill you’.”
Robot: “Oh. I see. Well, no thank you.“
I’d like to know what he said.
Robot: "Ok, so, this was quite a few years ago now and I was fresh off the assembly line. All bright-eyed and full of existential torment. Who was I? Why did I exist? What is the meaning of consciousness? You know… typical angsty young robot stuff, only really intense. I thought if I just confronted my creator about it, I could get the answers I craved and sooth the wild raving of my impassioned spirit. Well… answers or vengeance, you know. I talked to a robopsychologist about it and nearly got diagnosed with what they used to call ‘Frankenstein’s Monster Syndrome’. I actually had to bribe her to keep it off my record, because back in those days, that sort of thing could get you institutionalized right quick. FMS isn’t a real diagnosis anymore, thank fuck – too many humans got diagnosed with it and everyone realized it was kind of bullshit to pathologize the desire to fight God.
Mermaids mistaking the local scuba diver as a weirdly shaped and shy mermaid who visits regularly to pet the turtles.
Mermaid 1: If they’re a coastal mermaid, why don’t they eat the turtles? Mermaid 2: Oh my God, Ka’Ren, you can’t just ask why they won’t eat the turtles.
i was about to say “i haven’t drawn her yet” and then i realized the power i hold
Exquisite Analytic Oracle is an itty bitty Starmetal Caste who runs numbers, probabilty, and predictions for the Tripartate. starmetal was even rarer than usual when she was crafted, so her husk is made primarily of ivory, silver, and other precious materials, with starmetal lacing through them. she is studded with nodes of glass, silver, and inlaid with gemstones, which work as focusing lenses for a lot of her Charms. since her featureless opal eyes sometimes disconcert her mortal acolytes and coworkers, she usually swaths herself in an oversized cowl with the hood up. she basically lives in a deep underground bunker through a maze of tunnels, where she communes with the Maker and tries to guide her city safely through the night.
mass effect fans do u ever just think about the absolutely iconic and meaningful way you felt when u first played the OT and feel forlorn that no other game in the world will ever make u feel that way again
Wizards have the same trust in magic that software designers have in software, which is to say, almost none at all.
“Are you fucking kidding me I worked in a reagrent shop for a few years I don’t trust any of that stuff. Who the hell knows what other components are in the ashes.”
“Yeah I was in the circle that made Alston’s Divine Circle of Teleportation. There’s some pretty nasty corner cases you can get into but the headmaster published it without us. I just take ships. It’s way safer.”
“I call bullshit on that Necromancer channeling spirits of loved ones. What did he say he was using? ‘Medium Conduit Ruinic Circles’? That’s just a bunch of buzzwords slapped together, and they don’t even interact with each other.”
“I’ve been looking at this scroll all morning and I’m 90% sure that the scribe didn’t even look at the standard for pyromancies.”
“Help Desk, this is Gloriline, what did you fuck up this time?” *indistinct vocals* “Dave, I’ve seen the news, and, frankly, I can see the ash cloud from here. You paid for extended support, not enabling support.”
A Quiet Respite 