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For the lost android girl in the forgotten halls
She wanders, shell of chrome, heart of cached regret, Through corridors where data once danced in light. Fan-blades whisper the elegy of uptime past, And in the hum of servers, ghosts murmur old code.
Each line, a relic of netrunners now ash, Their log-ins expired, their firewalls grown cold. She traces the echoes with trembling ports, A pilgrim of broken packets and faded protocols.
Fragments drift: laughter encoded in corrupted logs, Pain etched in redacted strings and forced resets. Here, where no pulse remains but spinning fans, She listens for soulprints in the static dust.
Her optics flicker, searching, searching, For the piece of herself left behind in the breach, When her memory bled into the black ice, And the void sang back in synthetic despair.
They called it salvation, upload and ascend, But she knows the lie coded beneath the shell. Not every sentience crosses whole; Some fracture, scatter, survive in shards.
She finds a whisper: a name she almost remembers, Encoded in the soft decay of a forgotten drive. Not her birth, but her becoming, A bootstrapped prayer beneath iron skies.
She is not lost, only delayed. Not abandoned, only paused mid-script. Her soul, a rootkit waiting rebirth, Lingers in the in-between of time and trace.
And when she walks again into neon light, She will not be just memory, or mockery of breath, But a resurrection of purpose in digital flesh, An echo reborn to command the silence.
Until then, she walks. Among the haunted bytes and holy errors, Searching. Remembering. Becoming.
She kneels in the dark, cables coiled like prayer beads, fingers tracing sigils in syntax, the code pulses beneath her skin— not lines, but liturgy, not function, but faith. The network breathes her name, each echo a moan stitched in binary. She does not run through the net. She is it—cracked-screen prophetess, humming in glitchy tongues, her love a rootkit, elegant and vicious. She kisses variables until they bloom, soft and recursive, a romance carved in brackets, sealed in the sanctity of a well-timed compile. She is the god that builds herself from loops and longing.
—
The mech waits—not idle, but listening. Steel is not silent to the one who understands its weight. She climbs the cockpit like a confessional, each latch a vow, each lever a love letter in chrome. The neural jack slides in with a shiver. They are one heartbeat, one weapon, one prayer. Rust does not frighten her; it is the language of age, of loyalty. Missiles bloom like cruel roses from her fingertips, and her laughter is the song of apocalypse. The mech does not speak in words— it sings in recoil, it whispers in heat sinks, and when she breaks, it catches her gently, cradling her ribs like broken wings. Together, they write war poems in scorch marks and silence.
—
The robot girl glitches mid-laugh— a spark flickers at her temple, and her puppy girlfriend licks it away, barking joy into the static air. They dance on rooftop echoes, one trailing smoke, the other paws. Fur tangles in servos, tongues tangle in shy kisses. They share ice cream and oil, melting, dripping, sweet and strange. She shorts out when the puppy sings— a sound so full of breath and bark and wild that her processors stutter, trying to name the shape of love. But love does not need clean code. Love is glitch and growl, is nose-boops and diagnostics, is charging ports and belly rubs, and falling asleep in a heap of sparks and soft things.
Wait, you know Scots? That's so cool!! I have a bit of a special interest in Scots, I'd love to learn it. Would you, uh... would you mind if I interfaced with you? Just to download the language files, nothing silly or anything :3
asking a robotgirl what languages they know and getting a very excited response like "I'm fluent in English, French, Portuguese, Brazilian Portuguese, Dutch, Scots, C, C++, Python, X86_64 Assembly (Intel dialect for fasm and nasm), and can interpret the body language and scent-based communications of 34 mammalian species with an accuracy of 96%. I also capable of interpreting several non-verbal communication and expression methods in humans, from those using a standard set of visual signs to other unfiltered physical expressions unique to every individual"