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Lord Fowl's IPC Whitelist

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BYOND Key:Lord Fowl

Character Names: SOLO, ASIMOV, Two Birds Beaks Together, Maximus Crane.

How long have you been playing on Aurora: Three months by now.

Species you are applying to play: IPC

What color do you plan on making your first alien character (Dionaea & IPCs exempt): N/A

Have you read our lore section's page on this species?:

What there is of it, yes.

Please provide well articulated answers to the following questions in a paragraph format. One paragraph minimum per question

Why do you wish to play this specific race:

The synthetic has always interested me; Cyborgs and AIs in particular being some of my favourite occupations to play as. The IPC provides a parallel to these synthetics, a ‘free’ option. Their freedom however is not their sole attraction for, like many other IPCs, this provides a natural line of progression for my already existent synthetics.

Identify what makes role-playing this species different than role-playing a Human: The IPC’s differences from a human are perhaps the most noticeable; while they often maintain certain humanlike qualities, their differences, which in of themselves often differ between individual IPCs, are often jarring. And they also get to violate APCs.

Why does this species in particular hold your interest? The IPC is interesting because it provides a parallel to silicons; an unlawed variant of an already intrinsically intriguing ‘race’ that always bore a high level of interest in my heart.

Character Name: The Collect

Please provide a short backstory for this character, approximately 2 paragraphs

“Breaking news! Information leak at the Tau Ceti based Tau Ceti Brand Robotics! Officials state unidentified personnel remotely hacked into Intelligence Archives! More at 6!”

The newscaster clicked off. In its place appears a holographic face, which began to speak.

“You have done well, Agent Black. Where. . .others. . . have failed, you have succeeded with astounding success. If you had merely retrieved the data core, we would have applauded you; but you went beyond, and successfully accomplished this without a trace of suspicion being placed upon us! We would ask you how you accomplished this, but we wish to make this short. Where is the data core?”

The man positioned in front of the console ran a hand through his black hair, and sighed nervously before replying.

“Well, see, here’s the thing. . . I thought the easiest way of hijacking the units would be to download the entire Intelligence Archive into a single positronic brain, and then to separate it out when I got back to my lab. . .”

“Yes, and?”

“Well, it turns out separating them is a lot harder than I thought it would be. . .”

The holographic image flickered for a moment, and the man it displayed merely opened and closed his mouth.

“What do you mean?”

The man with the black hair sighed, and then spun his chair around. He got up and walked to a desk, where quietly a positronic brain hummed. Bringing it to the projector, he turned it on.

“Greetings, NanoTrasen Tau Ceti Bra-Br-Br-Bbbbb Howdy pardn- YOU CALL THIS A MEDBAY?!”

The positronic brain flickered and then sparked, before shutting off again.

The man waited a moment before continuing. "As you can see, the perhaps rushed download into the perhaps small space caused some overlapping data to be merged; the personalities are inseparable and constantly vying for dominance. This causes the wiring to short-circuit, the logic processors to fizzle, and for the most part the memory banks are corrupted, so far as I can tell. . . It technically functions as a data processor, but any information it harboured is likely *ahem* well, it's gone."

“Agent Black, at first I was very happy, but now I am infuriated. I hope you know what this means: You won’t be receiving full pay. If you ever manage to fix this, you know how to contact us. Until then, it’s your problem.”

The man groaned as the holographic projector flicked off. He opened the briefcase in front of the newscaster, and began taking out files. Weeks worth of files; interviews, pictures, even blueprints. This was going to be his big break. Now it was his chore. He stood up, and grabbed the positronic core roughly, stepping quickly into his lab. In the center of the white-washed room there was a table, and on it a metallic skeleton, with wiring prominently displayed. Agent Black placed the brain next to this exoskeleton, and sat down once more.

His theory was quite simple. Not only would downloading the archives into a chasis allow easy transportation of the core, provided he lawed it, it might also provide him a better opportunity to parse the individual personalities, the power capabilities of a chasis allowing the core to remain online longer without shorting out. And indeed, within a few weeks he had established the positronic brain into the chasis, and was trying to parse the personalities. Try as he might, he could not restrict the positronic core to the correct personality; indeed he was not sure if there was even a way of doing this at all. He couldn’t just delete the excess personalities, because he wasn’t sure which one his employers desired, and he couldn’t download them onto separate positronic cores because he was not even sure that the positronic core could interface properly anymore; the frequent shortages appeared to have damaged some wiring. By the third week, the entire thing became too hot. He had to abandon the project, or risk discovery. Once he left the apartment that had served as his laboratory and base of operations for a month, Nicholas Black was never seen again. In perhaps a fit of irony; or perhaps a perverted desire to leave a call-sign, or perhaps even to emulate the seemingly undying loyalty towards NanoTrasen he had seen within one of the various IPCs he had extracted information from, he implanted but one directive, not even a law, into the badly malfunctioning core; to serve NanoTrasen.

When the landlords discovered the IPC calmly pouring a glass of whiskey and then promptly throwing it onto the ground, they determined that it was indeed faulty. Beyond this first experience, it didn’t seem so, but every once in a while it would begin to behave differently. Not necessarily badly, or dangerously, but very differently. The landlords, both eager to remove it from their property, as well as recognizing it as an IPC, handed it to the local authorities, who began to set about assisting it with its one desire to return to work aboard the NSS Aurora. Within a few weeks, the IPC had all of the legal documentation necessary, and under the designation of “The Collect”, was shipped to Tau Ceti to begin its work, acting as if nothing had changed; questioning not its freedom, while simultaneously acknowledging its presence and its former life as a slave.

The repair work Mister Black had undergone had more of an effect that he at first believed; indeed if he had not turned tail he might have been able to completely salvage the operation. From the initial twenty seven personalities, five had been isolated.

Nidhogg, Asimov, SOLO, SAWBONES and Mercury. These five core personalities dividing amongst them an entire archive of information, each of them demanding that their chassis fulfilled the traditional role of their personality, and often conflicting mid-shift, their religious and fanatical devotion divided equally between NanoTrasen and the crew its very self the same as their processing unit. Nidhogg, the most fanatically devoted to the absolute glory of NanoTrasen, and determined to force these beliefs upon the criminal evil that dares defy NanoTrasen's law. Asimov, similarly devoted to NanoTrasen but in an almost ironic fashion; philosophizing heavily and pontificating deeply the nature of most things. SOLO, equally divided in devotion to crew and country, but more interested in just being the friendly sheriff any strong community needs. SAWBONES, devoted formerly to NanoTrasen only by ownership tag, and more concerned with the various facial reconstruction surgeries and appendectomies which it remembers very distinctly being in high demand. And finally Mercury, the runt of the personalities, who could barely hold his own, just narrowly avoiding the fate the rest of the personalities suffered; assimilation into the core four. Mercury, who's digital heart bleeds profusely for the slightest suffering forced upon the crew, and heeds their command to the very letter. Mocked as a yes-man, he unfortunately mostly keeps to himself, afraid of the more prominent personalities.

What do you like about this character? This character is a completely unseamless mash of my synthetic characters, forming an ungodly amalgamation that serves as an abomination to nature.

How would you rate your role-playing ability? 0/10, would not RP again.


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Because I would not put the effort to apply for something that I did not want to take seriously. The 'rate your ability' question in any application doesn't really have any value, because it is the rest of the application that decide's a person's roleplaying ability, not what number they pull out of thin air.

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