GammyWamzee
Serf
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- Age
- 20
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An Outsider Finding Acceptance - June 2024
My first writing challenge on Inner Sanctum!
---
When CUP closed his eyes he didn't see anything. Which one might think is the standard, but no it's not. When normal people closed their eyes they saw bright colors looping around and forming abstract shapes- perhaps even the imagination of a foreign concept like an apple that wasn't even there, or a person. No when CUP closed his eyes he sees darkness and from that darkness he can summon different algorithms listing local fauna within his nasal and ocular sensors, something that might be coveted by many, but for cup was much more of a second nature to him. It was simply within his programming to have these abilities, it was something that was just him. He just knew what was nearby, he knew what weather was predicted, and truly anything a survivalist might want in this deserted wasteland.
Though as CUP looked around him in this community of people, he felt out of place as he stood to the side. A community with young children running around happily, adults carrying stacks of firewood, bundles of grains, or buckets or water. CUP was out of place, excluded from helping with chores, the distrust in their eyes was clear. They didn't want help from a mechanical man, the very thing that had caused this apocalypse in the first place approximately 78 years and 4 months ago. Really the only reason he was allowed to stay was because he could help predict the weather accurately and didn't require any food. Though he was never certain, really at any point he expected them to scrap him for parts. It didn't matter what he told them, that he had a human soul, really all they saw was the solar panels on his cheeks and neck. They saw the mechanical parts that allowed his eyes to close, and the doctored look of human teeth and rubber tongue that never wet. Things that made him look human when they knew he wall parts underneath a fake rubbery flesh.
Really when CUP looked at his hands he could see the faded tint of the paint on his fingers. Colors to add depth to his nails, or pink to his palm, knuckles, and fingertips. He remember the man who made him, who took care of him, he could remember his face blurrily. His memories of before the fall of humanity were fuzzy, and jumbled, mixed with Ian's own memories. It was surreal to have 3 mindsets all in a different corner of his mind. There was himself, Ian's memories, and CUP's memories from when life was simpler and all he knew was helping the old man traverse his home, tending to his greenhouse. He would remember being awake each time that Ian had carefully pulled him apart and unscrewed his parts to thoroughly clean and touch up with a light coating of paint, or dusting of pigment. Ian had always paid special attention to his eyes, CUP knew what they were supposed to look like, bright green. Though after all of these years, beaten by the sand, faded by the sun, when he took out an eye cap and analyzed it was faded, with only subtle touches of green in the parts that were covered by artificial eyelids.
It was in these few moments that CUP had decided to leave. He would not find his place in his village, he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, nor was he expecting anyone to speak to him. So he would simply leave. So that's what he did, adjusting the large pack on his back into a position more optimal for walking. Leaning down to adjust his boots and tighten the straps, and then gloves on his hands to protect the fine sensors and then he left, he walked through the night, and through the next day. Lands that he was well accustomed to after his many years of travel, the virtual GPS in his mind told him that he knew the layout of this land until he stepped somewhere that had felt hollow. It hadn't occurred to him that something could be buried under the piles of desert sand. Kneeling down to inspect more carefully and dusting off the metal trap door that he had stepped on he traced the faded number with his finger, 7.
Opening the trap door, he descended on the provided latter and closed the trap door shut above him as he continued his travels carefully, carefully checking each step after the last, unsure as to when the ladder would give out, no matter how sturdy it felt under his weight. Upon setting his feet onto solid concrete at the bottom of the ladder, CUP walked, as he had been doing. He walked for a long while in the chilled stone hallway, barely lit by reflective strips on the ground that had only lit up at CUP's natural light radiating from his faded eyes. Though he had grown tired in the pitch black environment, he was solar powered after all. Having to dig into his emergency reserves of power in order to make it to the end of the tunnel. When he turned the doorknob, akin to a safe's, he opened it to bright artificial sunlight.
Information had flooded his mind, the human side of his psyche amazed by the beauty of the place, but his rubber face had remained slack as he merely blinked to obtain what necessary information surrounded him. It was much more humid in this place. He strolled inside as he pulled the safe door closed behind him. The area was covered in plants, bright green and beautiful, all kept in a good- well maintenanced . That was what had grabbed his attention at first, as obviously this was his calling, what he was made for, to record the flora and fauna of the earth to only one day be obtained by whomever might need the information.
So when he heard someone behind him speak, "who are you?" He turned around, surprised in what capacity he was capable of, not expecting another being to be behind him. Though his ocular sensors did not detect heat, or breath, or blood. They were just like him.
My first writing challenge on Inner Sanctum!
---
When CUP closed his eyes he didn't see anything. Which one might think is the standard, but no it's not. When normal people closed their eyes they saw bright colors looping around and forming abstract shapes- perhaps even the imagination of a foreign concept like an apple that wasn't even there, or a person. No when CUP closed his eyes he sees darkness and from that darkness he can summon different algorithms listing local fauna within his nasal and ocular sensors, something that might be coveted by many, but for cup was much more of a second nature to him. It was simply within his programming to have these abilities, it was something that was just him. He just knew what was nearby, he knew what weather was predicted, and truly anything a survivalist might want in this deserted wasteland.
Though as CUP looked around him in this community of people, he felt out of place as he stood to the side. A community with young children running around happily, adults carrying stacks of firewood, bundles of grains, or buckets or water. CUP was out of place, excluded from helping with chores, the distrust in their eyes was clear. They didn't want help from a mechanical man, the very thing that had caused this apocalypse in the first place approximately 78 years and 4 months ago. Really the only reason he was allowed to stay was because he could help predict the weather accurately and didn't require any food. Though he was never certain, really at any point he expected them to scrap him for parts. It didn't matter what he told them, that he had a human soul, really all they saw was the solar panels on his cheeks and neck. They saw the mechanical parts that allowed his eyes to close, and the doctored look of human teeth and rubber tongue that never wet. Things that made him look human when they knew he wall parts underneath a fake rubbery flesh.
Really when CUP looked at his hands he could see the faded tint of the paint on his fingers. Colors to add depth to his nails, or pink to his palm, knuckles, and fingertips. He remember the man who made him, who took care of him, he could remember his face blurrily. His memories of before the fall of humanity were fuzzy, and jumbled, mixed with Ian's own memories. It was surreal to have 3 mindsets all in a different corner of his mind. There was himself, Ian's memories, and CUP's memories from when life was simpler and all he knew was helping the old man traverse his home, tending to his greenhouse. He would remember being awake each time that Ian had carefully pulled him apart and unscrewed his parts to thoroughly clean and touch up with a light coating of paint, or dusting of pigment. Ian had always paid special attention to his eyes, CUP knew what they were supposed to look like, bright green. Though after all of these years, beaten by the sand, faded by the sun, when he took out an eye cap and analyzed it was faded, with only subtle touches of green in the parts that were covered by artificial eyelids.
It was in these few moments that CUP had decided to leave. He would not find his place in his village, he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, nor was he expecting anyone to speak to him. So he would simply leave. So that's what he did, adjusting the large pack on his back into a position more optimal for walking. Leaning down to adjust his boots and tighten the straps, and then gloves on his hands to protect the fine sensors and then he left, he walked through the night, and through the next day. Lands that he was well accustomed to after his many years of travel, the virtual GPS in his mind told him that he knew the layout of this land until he stepped somewhere that had felt hollow. It hadn't occurred to him that something could be buried under the piles of desert sand. Kneeling down to inspect more carefully and dusting off the metal trap door that he had stepped on he traced the faded number with his finger, 7.
Opening the trap door, he descended on the provided latter and closed the trap door shut above him as he continued his travels carefully, carefully checking each step after the last, unsure as to when the ladder would give out, no matter how sturdy it felt under his weight. Upon setting his feet onto solid concrete at the bottom of the ladder, CUP walked, as he had been doing. He walked for a long while in the chilled stone hallway, barely lit by reflective strips on the ground that had only lit up at CUP's natural light radiating from his faded eyes. Though he had grown tired in the pitch black environment, he was solar powered after all. Having to dig into his emergency reserves of power in order to make it to the end of the tunnel. When he turned the doorknob, akin to a safe's, he opened it to bright artificial sunlight.
Information had flooded his mind, the human side of his psyche amazed by the beauty of the place, but his rubber face had remained slack as he merely blinked to obtain what necessary information surrounded him. It was much more humid in this place. He strolled inside as he pulled the safe door closed behind him. The area was covered in plants, bright green and beautiful, all kept in a good- well maintenanced . That was what had grabbed his attention at first, as obviously this was his calling, what he was made for, to record the flora and fauna of the earth to only one day be obtained by whomever might need the information.
So when he heard someone behind him speak, "who are you?" He turned around, surprised in what capacity he was capable of, not expecting another being to be behind him. Though his ocular sensors did not detect heat, or breath, or blood. They were just like him.