[ As a god (and with his chronically insecure personality), Tech Boy does indeed like this kind of personal attention. It's a bit distracting from the growing storm cloud of his personal melancholy... and fewer clothes is always better. Wasn't there a mention of bed? To sleep or to do other things? To sleep perchance to dream? Despite the topic of conversation, the thought causes him to giggle to himself a bit as he twists a bit to help K remove a layer or two of his ridiculous(ly fashionable) outfit.
But the topic of favors is more complicated. There have been things that Tech Boy has asked for that K would likely not want to hear. Some of the requests had been quite nasty. War is hell, after all. ]
Why not risk it? Trust me. Have a little faith. If they don't take the deal, they'll die out anyway. All I really have to do is wait. But it's better if they learn to work with what we're offering. It's a good life. [ Mostly. ] Better than what they've got without us.
[ He'd been thinking about this. ] When I first got here, I would have given anything to go back. The tech here is so fucking stone age compared to where I was. And even that is light years behind what I saw in your world. [ He presses his lips together in thought. ] My world rejected me. You accepted me. Why the fuck would I want to go back to that war now?
[ Maybe the old gods would rather die on their own terms, he thinks but doesn't say, knowing he may be projecting too much of himself into that supposition. But from everything that he finally knows about the gods, their war, the myriad particularities of worship... it really doesn't seem like a bad deal. Though it's likely there's a lot Tech Boy's leaving out, too. The finer details.
And K does appreciate those. He pauses in undressing Tech Boy to examine the shirt he's just worked off, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, maybe a little distracted. The Bufotenin is still affecting him, having eased into a low, pleasant buzz. But he's still tracking their conversation and looks up, surprised by Tech Boy's answer. A smile soon follows. ]
Whatever ends up happening, if it's possible to stay together in some way... [ Leaning closer, he kisses the corner of Tech Boy's mouth. ] I'd like to. You'll always have a place with me.
[ They may not have been given a choice in being brought here, but who's to say what the future holds? With so little known about Sodder and Deerington and the true limits of this place, anything seems possible. Reaching to continue his efforts removing all those layers of clothes, he runs his hands along Tech Boy's bare skin once he finds some. ]
What would you like to do instead of fighting the war? Imagine you can do anything. What would that be?
[ Had K mentioned that aloud, Tech Boy would have had to admit that he also would prefer to die on his own terms, but that's not often the fate of gods. It had never been his. Technology never really died; it just changed. Upgraded at the behest of the World to accommodate the needs of his disciples. The Technical Boy had been retired against his own will. Not on his own terms (unlike Media's self-imposed upgrade). It's all bullshit is what it is. All of it.
But what isn't bullshit is the position he's in now. Quite solidly the opposite. Freshly peeled of his layers, he's pleasantly distracted by the physical sensation of K's hands against his skin. If TB could manage to relax his mind just a little more, it would be easy enough to compartmentalize the heavy conversation and just do this instead. Simply being in K's presence made him feel better, everything else is extra. But his mind is frustratingly still participating in the (albeit very informative) conversation. ]
If it's possible. I'd like that.
[ TB places his hands on K's shoulders and kisses him surprisingly gently on the lips, drawing out the sensation. He uses the end of the vape to draw little circles against K's skin. ]
It's not all war duties all the time. But if I didn't have to do them at all, I'd go back to creating. Exclusively. I'm a god after all. That's what I do. [ He taps the tip of his nose against K's. ] I'm inspiring.
[ Creating. It's hard not to feel envious of that ability. K's perfect recall makes memorisation essentially effortless and accelerates his ability to learn, and he can imitate, emulate, simulate with varying degrees of efficiency... but true creativity has remained beyond his reach, likely another intentional limitation of his programming. (The seemingly inane little circuit board critters he'll end up piecing together in a few weeks will, in fact, reflect a significant leap in his development.)
The kiss is distracting, and he doesn't lose his train of thought so much as it momentarily jumps track, but with some difficulty he keeps the inappropriate comments about exactly what Tech Boy inspires in him to himself. This conversation feels too important to make light of it. But his posture does noticeably loosen beneath Tech Boy's touch as his own hands are wandering back to the god's waist, slipping past his remaining clothing to touch the bare skin of his hips. ]
That sounds nice. You can do that here, too, can't you? [ Even if the general level of technology is far less advanced than Tech Boy's accustomed to. Excluding the Fluids and network, presumably. ] Have you ever inspired the humans here?
[ One can practically hear the gears in his mind turning now; he has a lot of questions. And it's leading back into potentially sensitive territory. ] Do any knowingly worship you?
[ More importantly, if they do, why was his own willing offer of worship rejected? ]
[ Oh hmmmm that's a complicated question. One that Tech Boy isn't certain K's going to like the answer to, given their past foray into the conversation of worship. The physical contact of each of their hands on the other's bare skin has the effect of closing a circuit between them, and that circuit eases a rising feeling of nervousness. Worship is different when it comes to K than with the humans, and having never faced it before meeting K, he's still working it out a bit himself. He knows what he feels, but how to explain it...? ]
What powers I have to create are limited here. Sure, I can work with the limited tech that this place offers, but I'm operating as a programmer or an engineer, not as a god should. [ He's frowning. ] I haven't come across anyone receptive to my particular brand of inspiration. No one worthy. [ He meets K's eyes. ] Until you.
[ Then he hangs his head slightly. ] There are a few, 3 or maybe 4, who do knowingly worship me by using the Network knowing that it gives me power. Nothing more than that. I haven't been exactly broadcasting my divinity, because then people start to want things, so it's only a select few who are in the knowledge loop. The others, every other person who uses the Network or invents an electric powered device or creates something that doesn't belong in this vaguely 1950's aesthetic... they worship ignorantly. Passively. But it's enough to keep the lights on. To keep me alive.
I am a New God. Old forms of worship just don't do it for me. Churches and altars and prayers and sacrifices--well, a person sacrifices their time to me with or without their knowledge and that is something I can take to the bank--are all old news. Using the gifts that I have given to the world, using my tech, that's where the power comes from.
[ He slides a hand to again rest over K's heart. ] Every strong heartbeat. I can feel it.
[ K listens with interest and without interruption, though the explanation has him feeling even less certain of where or how he — and his worship — fit into the equation, or if he even does, when he isn't human. At least he can intentionally use technology with all of this in mind now, knowing that's how Tech Boy needs to be worshipped, for whatever good it might do. It can't hurt. But it also seems safer to assume any power drawn from his worship and belief is null compared to what humans can provide for Tech Boy, rather than getting his hopes up and having to face inevitable disappointment later. A lesson he's already well-versed in. Given what he is, there's also the distinct possibility that letting someone "use" him might be a more effective form of worship...
Being deemed worthy of receiving inspiration raises even more questions than it answers. And he wants to ask about the specifics, but hesitates, reaching to cover Tech Boy's hand with his own. He hadn't meant to turn the invitation to come over into a full on interrogation; it's just a struggle when there's still so much he feels he doesn't understand about Tech Boy and the nature of gods, but he wants to. And he's finally been getting answers to his questions tonight.
But he doesn't want to take without giving anything in return, so for the moment sets aside his endless questions to hold up his end of the "bargain", such as it was. ]
I think you've earned a break from my curiosity. Right now the only thing I want from you is for you to come to bed with me. Come on.
[ And he helps Tech Boy up, assisting with the removal of his pants before collecting his vape and leading him back to the bedroom. The memory of his nightmare prevents K from wanting to attempt to sleep again, so for the remainder of the night he'll make good on the offer to read to Tech Boy and distract him in other, even more pleasant ways. He'll be returning to that conversation soon enough, and hopefully Tech Boy remains willing to answer his questions. ]
You deserve your curiosity. You can ask me anything you want. I don't intend to keep any secrets from you. [ Not intentionally anyway. He has no concept of what is necessary or even interesting knowledge about himself and his divinity, so K would have to lead that interrogation if he wanted information. True, some topics were painful, but K had given him permission to be vulnerable, and that in itself is a gift.
But the conversation had turned much more intense than he'd been expecting from a silly text and an invitation to join him. No, that isn't right. Tech Boy had been expecting a conversation like this eventually--and expects many more in the future. There's a lot to unpack about being involved with a god from one's distant past, and a lot more to discover from an android from one's technologically advanced (possibly alternate) future.
After shedding clothing and moving back to the bedroom, Tech Boy decides that what he wants most right now is to curl up under blankets, pressed against K, skin against skin. Whether this leads to relaxing reading or more excuses to test out the physical effects of Tech Boy's designer drug on K's body remains to be seen.
He gets comfortable, face nuzzled into the side of K's neck so that his lips brush the skin, and he recites softly. ]
One opal cloudlet in an oval form Reflects the rainbow of a thunderstorm Which in a distant valley has been staged-- For we are most artistically caged.
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brandnewtech) wrote2019-09-29 05:00 am
no subject
But the topic of favors is more complicated. There have been things that Tech Boy has asked for that K would likely not want to hear. Some of the requests had been quite nasty. War is hell, after all. ]
Why not risk it? Trust me. Have a little faith. If they don't take the deal, they'll die out anyway. All I really have to do is wait. But it's better if they learn to work with what we're offering. It's a good life. [ Mostly. ] Better than what they've got without us.
[ He'd been thinking about this. ] When I first got here, I would have given anything to go back. The tech here is so fucking stone age compared to where I was. And even that is light years behind what I saw in your world. [ He presses his lips together in thought. ] My world rejected me. You accepted me. Why the fuck would I want to go back to that war now?
no subject
And K does appreciate those. He pauses in undressing Tech Boy to examine the shirt he's just worked off, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, maybe a little distracted. The Bufotenin is still affecting him, having eased into a low, pleasant buzz. But he's still tracking their conversation and looks up, surprised by Tech Boy's answer. A smile soon follows. ]
Whatever ends up happening, if it's possible to stay together in some way... [ Leaning closer, he kisses the corner of Tech Boy's mouth. ] I'd like to. You'll always have a place with me.
[ They may not have been given a choice in being brought here, but who's to say what the future holds? With so little known about Sodder and Deerington and the true limits of this place, anything seems possible. Reaching to continue his efforts removing all those layers of clothes, he runs his hands along Tech Boy's bare skin once he finds some. ]
What would you like to do instead of fighting the war? Imagine you can do anything. What would that be?
no subject
But what isn't bullshit is the position he's in now. Quite solidly the opposite. Freshly peeled of his layers, he's pleasantly distracted by the physical sensation of K's hands against his skin. If TB could manage to relax his mind just a little more, it would be easy enough to compartmentalize the heavy conversation and just do this instead. Simply being in K's presence made him feel better, everything else is extra. But his mind is frustratingly still participating in the (albeit very informative) conversation. ]
If it's possible. I'd like that.
[ TB places his hands on K's shoulders and kisses him surprisingly gently on the lips, drawing out the sensation. He uses the end of the vape to draw little circles against K's skin. ]
It's not all war duties all the time. But if I didn't have to do them at all, I'd go back to creating. Exclusively. I'm a god after all. That's what I do. [ He taps the tip of his nose against K's. ] I'm inspiring.
no subject
The kiss is distracting, and he doesn't lose his train of thought so much as it momentarily jumps track, but with some difficulty he keeps the inappropriate comments about exactly what Tech Boy inspires in him to himself. This conversation feels too important to make light of it. But his posture does noticeably loosen beneath Tech Boy's touch as his own hands are wandering back to the god's waist, slipping past his remaining clothing to touch the bare skin of his hips. ]
That sounds nice. You can do that here, too, can't you? [ Even if the general level of technology is far less advanced than Tech Boy's accustomed to. Excluding the Fluids and network, presumably. ] Have you ever inspired the humans here?
[ One can practically hear the gears in his mind turning now; he has a lot of questions. And it's leading back into potentially sensitive territory. ] Do any knowingly worship you?
[ More importantly, if they do, why was his own willing offer of worship rejected? ]
no subject
What powers I have to create are limited here. Sure, I can work with the limited tech that this place offers, but I'm operating as a programmer or an engineer, not as a god should. [ He's frowning. ] I haven't come across anyone receptive to my particular brand of inspiration. No one worthy. [ He meets K's eyes. ] Until you.
[ Then he hangs his head slightly. ] There are a few, 3 or maybe 4, who do knowingly worship me by using the Network knowing that it gives me power. Nothing more than that. I haven't been exactly broadcasting my divinity, because then people start to want things, so it's only a select few who are in the knowledge loop. The others, every other person who uses the Network or invents an electric powered device or creates something that doesn't belong in this vaguely 1950's aesthetic... they worship ignorantly. Passively. But it's enough to keep the lights on. To keep me alive.
I am a New God. Old forms of worship just don't do it for me. Churches and altars and prayers and sacrifices--well, a person sacrifices their time to me with or without their knowledge and that is something I can take to the bank--are all old news. Using the gifts that I have given to the world, using my tech, that's where the power comes from.
[ He slides a hand to again rest over K's heart. ] Every strong heartbeat. I can feel it.
no subject
Being deemed worthy of receiving inspiration raises even more questions than it answers. And he wants to ask about the specifics, but hesitates, reaching to cover Tech Boy's hand with his own. He hadn't meant to turn the invitation to come over into a full on interrogation; it's just a struggle when there's still so much he feels he doesn't understand about Tech Boy and the nature of gods, but he wants to. And he's finally been getting answers to his questions tonight.
But he doesn't want to take without giving anything in return, so for the moment sets aside his endless questions to hold up his end of the "bargain", such as it was. ]
I think you've earned a break from my curiosity. Right now the only thing I want from you is for you to come to bed with me. Come on.
[ And he helps Tech Boy up, assisting with the removal of his pants before collecting his vape and leading him back to the bedroom. The memory of his nightmare prevents K from wanting to attempt to sleep again, so for the remainder of the night he'll make good on the offer to read to Tech Boy and distract him in other, even more pleasant ways. He'll be returning to that conversation soon enough, and hopefully Tech Boy remains willing to answer his questions. ]
no subject
But the conversation had turned much more intense than he'd been expecting from a silly text and an invitation to join him. No, that isn't right. Tech Boy had been expecting a conversation like this eventually--and expects many more in the future. There's a lot to unpack about being involved with a god from one's distant past, and a lot more to discover from an android from one's technologically advanced (possibly alternate) future.
After shedding clothing and moving back to the bedroom, Tech Boy decides that what he wants most right now is to curl up under blankets, pressed against K, skin against skin. Whether this leads to relaxing reading or more excuses to test out the physical effects of Tech Boy's designer drug on K's body remains to be seen.
He gets comfortable, face nuzzled into the side of K's neck so that his lips brush the skin, and he recites softly. ]
One opal cloudlet in an oval form
Reflects the rainbow of a thunderstorm
Which in a distant valley has been staged--
For we are most artistically caged.
...what a curious poem.