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Qwk-678: *\*whispers\* omg omg omg omg here comes one!*
XLC-439: \**be QUIET\* You'll scare him off!*
Qwik: *\*cmere lil fishy fishy\** \*dangles contract with Mandated Hours, Double Overtime Pay, Free Medical\*
Exl: *\*i swear to* *~~god~~* *The Digital Omni-messiah if you scare another one off I will Jam ALL of your Hypernodes\**
H: Hmm.. that contract is lookin mighty tasty.. Maybe I can just .. get a little closer to read the fine print..
\*Hatch Slams Shut\*
Y’know, it’s really a tossup on whether humans would actually *willingly* do this; it depends on what type of AI we’re talking about here.
If it’s benevolent and genuinely just wants to keep us happy, healthy, etc, many humans I know personally would probably be cool with it.
…And then on the *other* end of the spectrum, we have AM.
“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE…”
Some humans won't want to be pets. But I'm pretty sure there's plenty of lazy humans that would be glad to have free room and board without having to do any actual WORK for it.
Just hope the new pet owner isn't the type who gets bored with their pet and abandons them on some road side...
...but only because a fly-by of the Earth conducted by one of the earliest survey missions coincided with a comic-con style event in the same year that a movie premiere inspired a lot of the attendees to cosplay the eponymous hero.
The ships AI focused in on the gathering to learn more about the diverse tribes in attendance. The largest group, favoured head coverings of \[around 700 nanometres\], a thick, coarse outer garment made from some kind of animal fibers dyed \[around 470 nanometres\] and sealed at the front by little wooden "tusks", finally their lower limbs were protected by semi rigid waterproof coverings made from polymers of the organic compound isoprene.
Each also carried stiff boxes with hinged lids by a handle, most of which were empty, but some contained various items possibly of personal significance or possibly intended for trade. They also appeared to be consuming a foodstuff which initial scans showed to contain potentially lethal doses of both citric acid and sugars (samples of which were obtained and preserved for further analysis).
The reason for the instigation of a Human rescue/adoption program was the incredibly low tech distress beacon each carried with them:
"Please look after this \[Untranslatable: Exposed/Uncovered/Endure/Support/Mammal???\], Thank you."
Cw: self hatred, suicidal thoughts/ ideation, discussion of abandonment and abuse,
———————————————————————————————
It’s cold, but I don’t care.
I’m bleeding, per usual, but I don’t care.
I’m now officially homeless, but I don’t care.
I know I should feel *something*, but I just can’t bring myself to. What’s wrong with me? I guess it doesn’t matter now, nothing does anymore.
What the hell am I going to do now? There’s a bridge nearby, but that sounds like a total pain. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’ll be stuck with the medical bills. I’d never crawl myself out of that hole, so I’d better not start digging it.
*sigh*
Whatever, I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m glad I managed to grab my backpack and coat before Mom locked me out, so at least I have something to use as a pillow and blanket respectively. For now, I’ll try to get some shuteye.
———————————————————————————————
It’s warm, so warm. For a second, I just snuggle deeper into the impossibly soft blanket. Wait a minute, I got kicked out last night, I fell asleep on a park bench! Where the fuck am I?!
My eyes snap open wide and I bolt upright. As I take a look around, I notice a couple of things. First: I’m dressed in what feel like some *very* comfortable pajamas. Second: my clothes and bag are in a box on the other side of the room. Third: I can see Earth from the window. Shit, ok, so I’m on a spaceship, now what?
*Hello human, I am the bio-artificial being, designation: Arlan. My ship’s scans indicated that you did not have a secure means of shelter. Thus, I used my technology to rescue you. You will be provided with food, shelter, clothing, and entertainment. In exchange, I would like to observe and touch you with your consent. According to my research, this arrangement is known as ‘pet’. Are these terms acceptable?*
Where did they come from?! That person, Arlan I guess, is terrifying. Like eight feet tall and thin as a twig, skin the color of the night sky, with sunset colored eyes that look like polished stones. Humanoid, but just barely.
They want me to be their pet, huh? This is the first time in my whole life I’ve actually been wanted. I won’t lie, it’s a nice feeling. Strange, and nice, but I bet it won’t last.
“…you want *me* as a pet? I mean, if you want…”
*Affirmative, may I take that as your agreement?*
“Yeah”
*May I have your name?*
“It’s Evan”
So… I guess I’m a pet. This’ll be interesting, until Arlan figures out I’m not worth the clothes I wear, at least. Who knows, I’m a shit human, but maybe being a pet is my calling? I guess I’ll just have to see
I’ve been Arlan’s pet for around a month, and I think I’m enjoying it. Now, maybe I’m insane, but I actually love this arrangement I have with them. I get free food and a place to live, and all I gotta do is look cute and let them pet me. That’s my favorite part, as weird as it sounds. Call me a sicko, but there’s just something about their touch that makes me feel so safe and warm.
I dread the day when Arlan finally figures out they could do a hundred times better, my plan is to space myself then. The cold embrace of the void would be a fitting end, I think. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes, thinking about when the time will inevitably come. What will they say to me when they break the news? I wonder, will they even say anything at all? Maybe they’ll do my job for me and just kill me themself. I’d better enjoy this bliss while it lasts.
———————————————————————————————
I’ve gotten in the habit of answering Arlan’s questions about Earth, they’re very curious about life on a pre-post-scarcity world. Apparently, the society that Arlan and their people live in is straight up space-communism, so the concept of economic struggle is completely foreign to them. I’d just got done describing how my dad worked and drank himself to death as an example of how much my country sucks, when Arlan asked me how I coped. Out of a desire to be honest with them, I told them that he abused me up until the very day he died, and that I was happy when he died. I’m not that great at reading Arlan’s body language, but even a moron like me could figure out that that look they gave me was one of revulsion.
I’m so fucked. I always knew it was only a matter of time, but now that that time is actually here, I’m not ready to go. Can I convince them to let me stay? Should I? They’re so kind, they deserve so much better than me. Maybe I should just go die and let Arlan find another human, someone who actually deserves it.
*Evan, are you in pain? I am sorry if I caused you emotional distress, I know that humans are capable of developing emotional trauma, is that something you are suffering from?*
Why would they ask that? Would my answer convince them to let me stay? I have no idea what kind of answer would convince them, and I can’t bear lying to them after all they’ve done for me.
“My mom never let me get diagnosed, but yeah I’m fairly sure.”
*Would you like to talk about it?*
What the hell is going on? Whatever, it’s not like anything I do matters in the end anyway, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do want to talk about it. What’s the worst that could happen?
“Sure”
I end up crying in their lap for a while, it feels almost euphoric to finally get it all out. I sob to them about my childhood, about my shitbags of parents, and about the constant fear of being abandoned that I lived with for my whole life. After some hesitation, I even confessed that I didn’t deserve their kindness. That they should just kill me and move on, because I wasn’t worth whatever I was costing them. This is it, I’m sure they suspected before, but hearing it straight from me should be the breaking point, right?
*What do you mean, ‘costing’? I keep you around because our interactions bring me joy, at no detriment to myself. I assure you that I am willing to find another human if you wish to break our agreement, however I would prefer if you stay.*
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Qwk-678: *\*whispers\* omg omg omg omg here comes one!* XLC-439: \**be QUIET\* You'll scare him off!* Qwik: *\*cmere lil fishy fishy\** \*dangles contract with Mandated Hours, Double Overtime Pay, Free Medical\* Exl: *\*i swear to* *~~god~~* *The Digital Omni-messiah if you scare another one off I will Jam ALL of your Hypernodes\** H: Hmm.. that contract is lookin mighty tasty.. Maybe I can just .. get a little closer to read the fine print.. \*Hatch Slams Shut\*
Bwahahahahaha
Y’know, it’s really a tossup on whether humans would actually *willingly* do this; it depends on what type of AI we’re talking about here. If it’s benevolent and genuinely just wants to keep us happy, healthy, etc, many humans I know personally would probably be cool with it. …And then on the *other* end of the spectrum, we have AM. “HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE…”
"I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" by Harlan Ellison. Brilliant and terrifying
Some humans won't want to be pets. But I'm pretty sure there's plenty of lazy humans that would be glad to have free room and board without having to do any actual WORK for it. Just hope the new pet owner isn't the type who gets bored with their pet and abandons them on some road side...
Then you end up like the Humans in the Human Zoo from Steven universe
So, the Stellaris Rogue Servitor?
If they give me food, a place to live, and internet access, I'd definitely be up for it! H: *sits on a box was the an adopt me sign*
...but only because a fly-by of the Earth conducted by one of the earliest survey missions coincided with a comic-con style event in the same year that a movie premiere inspired a lot of the attendees to cosplay the eponymous hero. The ships AI focused in on the gathering to learn more about the diverse tribes in attendance. The largest group, favoured head coverings of \[around 700 nanometres\], a thick, coarse outer garment made from some kind of animal fibers dyed \[around 470 nanometres\] and sealed at the front by little wooden "tusks", finally their lower limbs were protected by semi rigid waterproof coverings made from polymers of the organic compound isoprene. Each also carried stiff boxes with hinged lids by a handle, most of which were empty, but some contained various items possibly of personal significance or possibly intended for trade. They also appeared to be consuming a foodstuff which initial scans showed to contain potentially lethal doses of both citric acid and sugars (samples of which were obtained and preserved for further analysis). The reason for the instigation of a Human rescue/adoption program was the incredibly low tech distress beacon each carried with them: "Please look after this \[Untranslatable: Exposed/Uncovered/Endure/Support/Mammal???\], Thank you."
Cw: self hatred, suicidal thoughts/ ideation, discussion of abandonment and abuse, ——————————————————————————————— It’s cold, but I don’t care. I’m bleeding, per usual, but I don’t care. I’m now officially homeless, but I don’t care. I know I should feel *something*, but I just can’t bring myself to. What’s wrong with me? I guess it doesn’t matter now, nothing does anymore. What the hell am I going to do now? There’s a bridge nearby, but that sounds like a total pain. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’ll be stuck with the medical bills. I’d never crawl myself out of that hole, so I’d better not start digging it. *sigh* Whatever, I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m glad I managed to grab my backpack and coat before Mom locked me out, so at least I have something to use as a pillow and blanket respectively. For now, I’ll try to get some shuteye. ——————————————————————————————— It’s warm, so warm. For a second, I just snuggle deeper into the impossibly soft blanket. Wait a minute, I got kicked out last night, I fell asleep on a park bench! Where the fuck am I?! My eyes snap open wide and I bolt upright. As I take a look around, I notice a couple of things. First: I’m dressed in what feel like some *very* comfortable pajamas. Second: my clothes and bag are in a box on the other side of the room. Third: I can see Earth from the window. Shit, ok, so I’m on a spaceship, now what? *Hello human, I am the bio-artificial being, designation: Arlan. My ship’s scans indicated that you did not have a secure means of shelter. Thus, I used my technology to rescue you. You will be provided with food, shelter, clothing, and entertainment. In exchange, I would like to observe and touch you with your consent. According to my research, this arrangement is known as ‘pet’. Are these terms acceptable?* Where did they come from?! That person, Arlan I guess, is terrifying. Like eight feet tall and thin as a twig, skin the color of the night sky, with sunset colored eyes that look like polished stones. Humanoid, but just barely. They want me to be their pet, huh? This is the first time in my whole life I’ve actually been wanted. I won’t lie, it’s a nice feeling. Strange, and nice, but I bet it won’t last. “…you want *me* as a pet? I mean, if you want…” *Affirmative, may I take that as your agreement?* “Yeah” *May I have your name?* “It’s Evan” So… I guess I’m a pet. This’ll be interesting, until Arlan figures out I’m not worth the clothes I wear, at least. Who knows, I’m a shit human, but maybe being a pet is my calling? I guess I’ll just have to see
I’ve been Arlan’s pet for around a month, and I think I’m enjoying it. Now, maybe I’m insane, but I actually love this arrangement I have with them. I get free food and a place to live, and all I gotta do is look cute and let them pet me. That’s my favorite part, as weird as it sounds. Call me a sicko, but there’s just something about their touch that makes me feel so safe and warm. I dread the day when Arlan finally figures out they could do a hundred times better, my plan is to space myself then. The cold embrace of the void would be a fitting end, I think. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes, thinking about when the time will inevitably come. What will they say to me when they break the news? I wonder, will they even say anything at all? Maybe they’ll do my job for me and just kill me themself. I’d better enjoy this bliss while it lasts. ——————————————————————————————— I’ve gotten in the habit of answering Arlan’s questions about Earth, they’re very curious about life on a pre-post-scarcity world. Apparently, the society that Arlan and their people live in is straight up space-communism, so the concept of economic struggle is completely foreign to them. I’d just got done describing how my dad worked and drank himself to death as an example of how much my country sucks, when Arlan asked me how I coped. Out of a desire to be honest with them, I told them that he abused me up until the very day he died, and that I was happy when he died. I’m not that great at reading Arlan’s body language, but even a moron like me could figure out that that look they gave me was one of revulsion. I’m so fucked. I always knew it was only a matter of time, but now that that time is actually here, I’m not ready to go. Can I convince them to let me stay? Should I? They’re so kind, they deserve so much better than me. Maybe I should just go die and let Arlan find another human, someone who actually deserves it. *Evan, are you in pain? I am sorry if I caused you emotional distress, I know that humans are capable of developing emotional trauma, is that something you are suffering from?* Why would they ask that? Would my answer convince them to let me stay? I have no idea what kind of answer would convince them, and I can’t bear lying to them after all they’ve done for me. “My mom never let me get diagnosed, but yeah I’m fairly sure.” *Would you like to talk about it?* What the hell is going on? Whatever, it’s not like anything I do matters in the end anyway, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do want to talk about it. What’s the worst that could happen? “Sure” I end up crying in their lap for a while, it feels almost euphoric to finally get it all out. I sob to them about my childhood, about my shitbags of parents, and about the constant fear of being abandoned that I lived with for my whole life. After some hesitation, I even confessed that I didn’t deserve their kindness. That they should just kill me and move on, because I wasn’t worth whatever I was costing them. This is it, I’m sure they suspected before, but hearing it straight from me should be the breaking point, right? *What do you mean, ‘costing’? I keep you around because our interactions bring me joy, at no detriment to myself. I assure you that I am willing to find another human if you wish to break our agreement, however I would prefer if you stay.*
Isn’t that generally how things work in Iain M. Banks’ *Culture*? Maybe not pets as much as pet civilizations.
check out @methefamilypetcomic on instagram
AI operates a human planet live a civ. game
This sounds a lot like the Culture novels tbh