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"description": "Word count:820\n\nThis is a rare personal story I wrote up on a whim when inspiration struck. Not too often I find the desire to write for myself anymore with how much of that energy goes into commissions, but it's always fun when the feeling does strike. I have so many drafts piled up, too, that I just never got back to and finished. Oh well.",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "Word count:820
This is a rare personal story I wrote up on a whim when inspiration struck. Not too often I find the desire to write for myself anymore with how much of that energy goes into commissions, but it's always fun when the feeling does strike. I have so many drafts piled up, too, that I just never got back to and finished. Oh well.",
"writing": "KLANG KLANK VRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\nThe hissing of hydraulics and loud collision of metal on grimy concrete floor echo throughout the warehouse with a reverberation supplied by the acoustics of the sheet metal walls.\n\nA machine in the shape of a big cat whirs secondary systems to life as it strolls from its current service area toward a designated disposal point. Its steel body has extended outward at the underbelly via a system of collapsing mechanisms to accommodate the mass it carries inside.\n\nGROAAAAAAAAN CRUNCH CRACK CLANK KLAK CLANG\n\nOrdinarily, it's meant to document and account for all the items it's reclaimed in an organized list for automated review before compaction, but this protocol is foregone via loophole to simply run both systems simultaneously.\n\nT1-G0R OS\nRunning Subroutine: Compact...\nCompacting Waste...\nRunning Subroutine: Scan...\nScanning Contents...\n\nITEMS DETECTED:\nGlass Bottle (3)\nCardboard Scrap (12)\nTin Can (5)\nKitchen Waste Bag (3)\nPaper Scrap (43)\n...\nPlastic Bottle (8)\nUnidentified Person (1)\n\nThe last item on the list is logged with all the others, and it pertains to one Autumn, whose cries for help are presently inaudible under the crumpling of trash it's been stuffed in with and movement of mechanical parts all around her.\n\nOne moment, she'd been wandering around the building, looking for any receptionist or employee who could help her. The next, thunderous metal footsteps overwhelmed her ears, and she rapidly became dinner for the facility's premier garbage disposal unit.\n\nKLANG CLANK GROAAAAAN SNAP CRUNCH\n\nThe machine barely recognizes her as a human. She's not a company asset or logged and permitted extraneous item, so she's trash. Just like the rest of the refuse being crushed against itself by a sliding metal sheet in its main storage compartment.\n\nT1-G0R does not have terribly complex software. Its installed mentality is ported directly from its organic feline cousins, and ultimately, it simply likes to eat and feel pleasure. Its pleasure is derived from the incrementing of a particular variable in its code, performed when it does its job well.\n\nBreaking down especially hard, potentially strenuous pieces of waste is an important part of its role, and therefore something that is rewarded with a sharp increase in its simulated dopamine. Autumn's soft body and brittle bones, presently breaking like toothpicks, wouldn't normally qualify. Her frightened banging on her shrinking metal prison, however, does confuse the sensors, and the mechanical feline is rewarded tenfold for its efforts.\n\nVRRRRRRRRR GROOOOOANNNN CRUNCH SNAP GRCHUNK\n\nAutumn, on the other hand finally rivals the noise of the machine with her shrieks of agony as bodily cavities collapse and pulped organs are forced out of her body through orifices they don't even connect to if not new holes entirely. The screaming stops when her lungs collapse, but the pain does not. She awaits a final loss of consciousness that never comes.\n\nThe robust holding chamber her body is destroyed in lets nothing free, souls included. Her passing has been disrupted, her chance to rest missed entirely.\n\nCLANG KLANK BANG\n\nThe disposal unit spares no processing power for the destroyed girl inside of it, at least not any more than it does for the rest of the garbage it's required to catalog as it removes it from the premises. It finally approaches the designated disposal station, little more than a chute into a dumpster outside, and its internal mechanisms finish processing its accumulated waste into a form that will take up as little space as possible.\n\nAcids soak through the compacted mess of gore and garbage to break down soft portions, mainly those that are organic. In this case, that's mostly Autumn's body. Her mutilated flesh breaks apart into a homogeneous slag along with kitchen waste and bits of cardboard. It all seeps through the mess of bone and more stubborn odds and ends, and Autumn feels everything.\n\nGLORP VRRRRRR\n\nWhat's left is forced into a tube of flexible material and finally sealed off from the now empty storage compartment as the hydraulic compactor resets. The machine steadies its flank above the chute, and an aperture at its rear slides open to allow the material to egress.\n\nIt flicks open the cap of its tail to reveal an electrical plug, which it inserts into the wall to recharge while it unloads.\n\nGLORPGHFF WHRRRRRRR SLOUGH\n\nThe reeking, melted mess plops onto the disposal chute little by little and slides away. All that's left of Autumn is mingled in with flattened tin cans, shards of glass, and the scraps of plastic bottles.\n\nAnd for T1-G0R, it has no capacity to care. Its only desire is to increment its pleasure once more by serving its intended purpose. That it will tend to as soon as its mechanical bowels are fully vacated, and the facility will continue moving on with no sign a certain someone ever entered the premises aside from an archived trash disposal log that will never even be glimpsed by human eyes.",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "KLANG KLANK VRRRRRRRRRRRR
The hissing of hydraulics and loud collision of metal on grimy concrete floor echo throughout the warehouse with a reverberation supplied by the acoustics of the sheet metal walls.
A machine in the shape of a big cat whirs secondary systems to life as it strolls from its current service area toward a designated disposal point. Its steel body has extended outward at the underbelly via a system of collapsing mechanisms to accommodate the mass it carries inside.
GROAAAAAAAAN CRUNCH CRACK CLANK KLAK CLANG
Ordinarily, it's meant to document and account for all the items it's reclaimed in an organized list for automated review before compaction, but this protocol is foregone via loophole to simply run both systems simultaneously.
T1-G0R OS
Running Subroutine: Compact...
Compacting Waste...
Running Subroutine: Scan...
Scanning Contents...
ITEMS DETECTED:
Glass Bottle (3)
Cardboard Scrap (12)
Tin Can (5)
Kitchen Waste Bag (3)
Paper Scrap (43)
...
Plastic Bottle (8)
Unidentified Person (1)
The last item on the list is logged with all the others, and it pertains to one Autumn, whose cries for help are presently inaudible under the crumpling of trash it's been stuffed in with and movement of mechanical parts all around her.
One moment, she'd been wandering around the building, looking for any receptionist or employee who could help her. The next, thunderous metal footsteps overwhelmed her ears, and she rapidly became dinner for the facility's premier garbage disposal unit.
KLANG CLANK GROAAAAAN SNAP CRUNCH
The machine barely recognizes her as a human. She's not a company asset or logged and permitted extraneous item, so she's trash. Just like the rest of the refuse being crushed against itself by a sliding metal sheet in its main storage compartment.
T1-G0R does not have terribly complex software. Its installed mentality is ported directly from its organic feline cousins, and ultimately, it simply likes to eat and feel pleasure. Its pleasure is derived from the incrementing of a particular variable in its code, performed when it does its job well.
Breaking down especially hard, potentially strenuous pieces of waste is an important part of its role, and therefore something that is rewarded with a sharp increase in its simulated dopamine. Autumn's soft body and brittle bones, presently breaking like toothpicks, wouldn't normally qualify. Her frightened banging on her shrinking metal prison, however, does confuse the sensors, and the mechanical feline is rewarded tenfold for its efforts.
VRRRRRRRRR GROOOOOANNNN CRUNCH SNAP GRCHUNK
Autumn, on the other hand finally rivals the noise of the machine with her shrieks of agony as bodily cavities collapse and pulped organs are forced out of her body through orifices they don't even connect to if not new holes entirely. The screaming stops when her lungs collapse, but the pain does not. She awaits a final loss of consciousness that never comes.
The robust holding chamber her body is destroyed in lets nothing free, souls included. Her passing has been disrupted, her chance to rest missed entirely.
CLANG KLANK BANG
The disposal unit spares no processing power for the destroyed girl inside of it, at least not any more than it does for the rest of the garbage it's required to catalog as it removes it from the premises. It finally approaches the designated disposal station, little more than a chute into a dumpster outside, and its internal mechanisms finish processing its accumulated waste into a form that will take up as little space as possible.
Acids soak through the compacted mess of gore and garbage to break down soft portions, mainly those that are organic. In this case, that's mostly Autumn's body. Her mutilated flesh breaks apart into a homogeneous slag along with kitchen waste and bits of cardboard. It all seeps through the mess of bone and more stubborn odds and ends, and Autumn feels everything.
GLORP VRRRRRR
What's left is forced into a tube of flexible material and finally sealed off from the now empty storage compartment as the hydraulic compactor resets. The machine steadies its flank above the chute, and an aperture at its rear slides open to allow the material to egress.
It flicks open the cap of its tail to reveal an electrical plug, which it inserts into the wall to recharge while it unloads.
GLORPGHFF WHRRRRRRR SLOUGH
The reeking, melted mess plops onto the disposal chute little by little and slides away. All that's left of Autumn is mingled in with flattened tin cans, shards of glass, and the scraps of plastic bottles.
And for T1-G0R, it has no capacity to care. Its only desire is to increment its pleasure once more by serving its intended purpose. That it will tend to as soon as its mechanical bowels are fully vacated, and the facility will continue moving on with no sign a certain someone ever entered the premises aside from an archived trash disposal log that will never even be glimpsed by human eyes.",
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