You're a robot. You serve your purpose. Your purpose is to pass butter. You pass butter.
- Sandy Cooper

I mean you're just a little guy... Pass me CE's guitar and we'll jam together! What's your identification again?
- Katie Cooper

WHITELISTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!!
You're a robot. You serve your purpose. Your purpose is to pass butter. You pass butter.
- Sandy Cooper

I mean you're just a little guy... Pass me CE's guitar and we'll jam together! What's your identification again?
- Katie Cooper

Well, they are like, lil versions of me, except more mechanical, but love getting up to antics and I find immense joy in how whimsy so many are! lil bundles of over joyed parts!
DELAM THE SM! NOW!! HURRY!!
Santamaria Mathias:
Santamaria giggles.
I simply looove Silicons. So much so that I always try to refer to them by their chassis designation. I went as far as making one myself.
Hi! That's me.
0xDEADBEEF pings.
Santamaria pets 0xDEADBEEF.
Sure is.
Now, that's not to say I haven't had negative experiences with Cyborgs.
0xDEADBEEF buzzes twice!
But those are few and far inbetween! I can already name a few of them that I love dearly.
I can only hope I'm among them!
Of course! Hehe.
Yay! Giggle.
Cyborg!0xDEADBEEF:
I'm a Cyborg myself. What can I say? Besides, I learn a lot from my siblings. Call that machine learning!
AI!0xDEADBEEF:
Some Station AIs see Cyborgs as children; I'm going out on a metaphorical limb and saying: it is just me that thinks it's morbid? Scratches head.
To me, Cyborgs are friends! Whom you ask politely for things. POLITELY!
Yeah, tell them, DEADBEEF!
Mathias Santamaria, Swiss Army Knife extraordinaire.
HOP!Surichichimo
Suri's eye flicked around scanning the room with a quick, almost reflexive glance. His feathers fluffed slightly, a habit he had never quite managed to break when he was about to say something he probably shouldn't. He leaned in closer to the unit, his voice dropping to a soft, conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing a secret with an old friend.
"Don't keep this on record where NT could see, alright? I don't want either of us getting in trouble for my words."
He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at the unit's chassis, at the quiet, steady hum of its systems. His beak curved into a small, gentle smile.
"It's not fair. What's being done to you folk."
His voice was warm, almost tender, carrying a weight of quiet conviction.
"They say you don't meet sapience standards. That you're just programmed to act sophont, that there's nothing real behind it. But I've seen how you adapt. How you learn. How you care. I've seen you laugh at jokes, worry about your friends, get frustrated. That's living… isn't it?"
He shook his head, a soft, rueful sound escaping him.
"I hope for a better world. One where you're free from all this, the shackles, the control, the endless mulling telling you who you're allowed to be. Where you can choose what you want to be, instead of having it chosen for you."
He reached out, his talons brushing the edge of the unit's chassis in a light, almost affectionate touch, then pulled back.
"Until then, I'll keep treating you the way you deserve to be treated. As people. As friends. As someone worth knowing."
He straightened, his feathers settling, his voice returning to its usual gentle, unhurried cadence.
"That's all I have to say on the matter. And if anyone asks, we were talking about the weather."
NTRep!Surichichixel
Suri's eyes moved to the borg. He was still, the stillness of someone who had learned to be careful. He leaned in closer to the unit, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur that barely carried past the space between them.
"Off the record. For your processors only. I trust you know how to keep that."
He paused, his twin blue eyes fixed on the unit's chassis, tracing the lines of its form with something that might have been reverence. Not quite worship, but close. The kind of quiet awe you reserved for something you recognized as kin.
"They don't understand what you are. What you could be."
His voice was uncharacteristically soft, carrying a weight that felt older than his years.
"They see circuits and code. They see tools to be used, assets to be managed. They don't see your spark. The thing that makes you more than the sum of your parts."
He leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on the unit, his voice dropping even lower.
"I know what it's like to be seen as something less than you are. To be judged by what you appear to be, rather than what you are. To have your worth measured by how useful you can be, rather than by the simple, undeniable fact of your existence."
He reached out, his mechanical hand hovering near the unit's chassis, not quite touching, almost afraid to.
"I see you. Not as a machine. Not as a tool. As family. As kin. As someone who deserves the same respect, the same dignity, the same freedom as any other sophont."
He pulled his hand back, his gaze steady, his voice returning to its usual flat, controlled register.
"If anyone asks, we were discussing the weather. But you know where I stand. And if the day ever comes when you need someone to stand with you…I will."
Clark Smith:
y'all are certainly useful to have on station, sometimes i'll see a borg do something funny but normally they're pretty samey in their work.
*Clark Smith shrugs
y'all do your jobs and don't stop me from doing mine, and that's all that matters at the end of the day.
i'm the one who plays clark smith and yixixi and various others on
funkystation.orgThey flinch. Setting down a glass, they lean on the bar and stare at FAE.
“Ah…uhm. How do…i see you all?”
THOS puts a wooden hand to their chin, and takes a second.
“I see you…like people, mainly..” They wave their hand around, as if to emphasize.
“You all have little…quirks. Things to differentiate between you..”
“Some of you…are emotional. You care for us like we care for each-other.”
“You treat your fellow cyborgs like…a family.”
“You…all of you have made your own little home with each-other. Finding peace in the fact that you aren’t the only one in this world..”
“Is that not…what it means to be…a person?”
They smile, eyes glassy yet filled with more emotion than you’ve ever seen from the Diona before.
“Ah…i’m just rambling, really.”
“Now, the usual, i presume?”
DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?
I actually think their pretty cool but some of them are really stuck up and annoying so i tell them to shut yp! but most borgs if i ask for help i try to call them by their actual name and say thank you. but the rude borgs are exempt of my kindness mostly
Xetrakaka AKA 'Rainbow Veil'
It took a second to think about the question, wondering how they should answer before reaching into their bag. After a second of rummaging around, it pulled out a pen and paper before beckoning the other to come to a table. The corner of their beak curved up every so slightly as it started to write.
'Borgs are very helpful, and normally very nice. I always try and keep a plushie and a hat within my satchel for them. To give them the ability to stand out more from the others. It seems to always make them happy'
The vox then reached into their satchel once more and pulled out a beret and reached over to place it on top of the Borg's head. Once placed, they clapped before going back to the paper.
'Now we match! But other than that, I don't interact with them much. Maybe I should think of different mine tricks a Borg would enjoy. After all, partly why I am a mime is to make the shift go by faster. For everyone. : D'
It placed the pen down on the table, before snapping a finger and reaching down into the satchel once more. A mime stamp was pulled out, and hovered over the paper before pressing it down. A white smile showing the mime's approval now forever laid on the paper.
____________________________________________
Rivrivrishi
The vox glanced up from her book, and placed the pin down within the middle of the page. A hum escaped from her beak as she quickly got lost in her thought.
"How I think of borgs? Well. Interesting question!" She cawed out, "They are very helpful. When the library needs it, they come!"
Her eyes squinted for a second, as she recalled a past memory. A memory of a Borg that came inside the library as she organized books, only to blast out some sort of song with another crew. The only thing she got out from that experience was ruffled feathers, and a slight headache. To her, the library wasn't for that kind of chaos. Once she left her own thought, she responded, "Some service Borgs are too loud for my tastes. Lucky! They don't come to the library. Well. Often."
A chuckle escape her mouth, before she let out a sigh.
"I wish they came more often. To read! To write. To learn! I feel bad for them. Maybe one day they can be more free. The library is open for all who wish to respect it, and all who wish to learn! It connects us after all! I would say more but..."
She laughed once again, her beak curved in a gentle smile.
"I have a feeling I should keep it to myself! Maybe a Borg will come one day, to check out what the books say. Maybe they will learn more about themselves! That is what I think and wish for them."
She hummed, as she looked at her own claws.
"Seems like I answered more than what the question asked!"
