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[], "description": "So I shitpost about resurrecting one of the most terrifying characters as a slutbot, sure sure. But I only joke in ways that are plausable, so I'm like... [i]unless[/i].\n\nSo here we are!\n\n[b]To even understand what's happening, you have to read @Norithics ' Partners 2541 series, which is so good you guys, if my fanart hasn't convinced you, please go read it.\n\nSpecifically, the end of Vol.2, the v3-0 intermission, and the beginning of Vol.3 are all [i]really[/i] important for understanding just what's going. So.. yeah![/b]\n\nThanks again to Nori for allowing this. <3", "description_bbcode_parsed": "So I shitpost about resurrecting one of the most terrifying characters as a slutbot, sure sure.   But I only joke in ways that are plausable, so I'm like... unless.

So here we are!

To even understand what's happening, you have to read \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tNorithics\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tNorithics\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
' Partners 2541 series, which is so good you guys, if my fanart hasn't convinced you, please go read it.

Specifically, the end of Vol.2, the v3-0 intermission, and the beginning of Vol.3 are all really important for understanding just what's going.  So.. yeah!

Thanks again to Nori for allowing this. <3", "writing": "It was a rather plain Tuesday morning. Clear with ruffled clouds and a pleasantly cool spring weather forecast, Jacent had acquired a kinetic track suit and was going to try it out after a quick lunch of “orange chicken” and rice. \n\nThe orange part was a bit dubious as the stand-ins for one’s traditional oranges tended to be a bit off (and there were honestly more varieties of citrus than he could remember there being in his time) so whenever he felt adventurous he would substitute in a new one just to see how it affected the flavor (though there were at least an approximation of your traditional navels, tangerines, and mandarins that worked well enough.) \n\nThe “chicken”, on the other hand, was just wishful thinking, not that he hadn’t gotten used to it. The flavor was there, and honestly a little more robust than he’d remembered, but the texture was never quite right. Still, such is life. \n\nAt least the rice was exactly how he remembered it.\n\nA plate for himself sat, already made, off to the side next to the rice cooker as he shoveled the rest of the big batch into a container and shut off the plasma field under his big metal wok. \n\nIt was as he finished getting that packed away that the doorbell buzzed.\n\nOdd. If it was his sister, her girlfriend, or any of his packmates, they would have simply entered. They all had a code or cards… Must be a guest! Interesting.\n\nHopefully it wasn’t another amateur historian… As pleasant as it was to talk to them, generally, the level of secondhand embarrassment and internal conflict when discussing humanity’s past was always hard to deal with. \n\nMake no mistake, their enthusiasm was palpable in a way that made him smile, but some of the things they asked about were hard for him to even recall… while their notions on other things were often… somewhat amusingly mistaken. It didn’t help that they often lacked the professional filters of the ones that Ms. Hendrix occasionally brought to see him at school. That was a lot more formal, and he could at least generally be… a smidge more helpful …and avoid hurt feelings.\n\nHe pressed one of the general purpose plates on the wall nearby, broadcasting his voice out into the hall in a way that made him feel… honestly very futurey! Like he was on the bridge of some space-faring vessel or something, the PA opening up with a friendly series of bleeps.\n\n“I will be there right away. One moment!”\n\nHe hefted the thermal container and set it to the appropriate temperature like he was setting an old oven before sticking it in the “fridge” to maintain itself. Then he took his plate with him into the front room, giving it a big, indulgent whiff before setting it on the coffee table before heading to the door.\n\n“Mr. Danger,” greeted a wizened voice as the door slid open to reveal the two figures standing out in the hall, “A moment of your time, if you would?”\n\nBoth were obvious Automa, without any sort of holograms to even attempt to obscure the fact.\n\nOne was very obviously the statesman Archimedes, who Jacent had met a few times before, his marblesque exterior and chiseled visage apparent at a glance. His keen eyes peered up at Jacent’s taller frame as he stood up straighter from his slight stoop, tucking one arm behind him as he pushed himself up with his walking cane. It was an entirely unnecessary affectation, but then again, most are.\n\nHe did, after all, possess a godlike physique underneath the heavily layered toga. Archimedes wasn’t just a statesman. Like the figures of old he styled himself after, he was a fighter, too, though one who elected to generally not, in favor of getting those better suited or more enthusiastic about it to do as they wished. No, his form had to convey one of experience and reason, the strength implicit, and so his frame was one of quiet age and authority. It was an odd flex, but one that Jacent couldn’t help but respect. It was effective in that way, certainly.\n\nThe other, however, was more curious.\n\nShe was… well, as they would say back in the day, bodacious. It was really hard to describe her any other way. The young lady’s form, while not [i]perhaps[/i] entirely out of the realm of possibility for the current era, was still tremendously and indulgently sculpted, and moving from Archimedes face directly to her, he couldn’t help look straight over at her… [i]grand[/i] assets, however unintentionally.\n\nThough the manner of her construction was familiar, her curves were almost [i]violent[/i]. A frankly ridiculously attention grabbing rack took up a large portion of the view, and a contrastingly slim, sculpted feminine torso and mound that belled out into an impressively round and robust bubble butt for the base. All of it was shaped from a soft gel encased in a dark and glossy, almost translucent exterior skin that comprised most of her core, save for the reinforced housing around her spine. Her limbs were made of a familiar, flexible, smooth, and glossy white plasticesque material. They were shaped to fit against her core like evening gloves and thigh boots, with thick thighs tapering down to split-toed stiletto heels, and sturdy, if delicate looking arms and hands. Her modesty was… barely kept, wrapped in what could generously be called strips of rubber to cover herself, perhaps only as a courtesy. A thick, flexible, and segmented tail curled behind her, flicking now and again.\n\nHer form was framed by a pair of frankly impressively oversized pigtails, and noting that for himself, Jacent pulled his gaze up towards her face.\n\nHe felt himself flush as he took in the details of the young synthetic woman. This frame was… [i]intensely built[/i], certainly. But as he reached her face, despite the advanced shape and pouting lips, there was something about her that was instantly recognizable. The shape of her face, that intense glowing cyan peering from ebon eyes, and the weight of her gaze. Familiar. Terrifying. Slowly what felt like every muscle in his body tensed. Tension rose. The fight or flight response arguing with itself as he tried to hold fast.\n\nAnd then she… looked away. And the spell was broken, in its place a strange, sad emptiness that flowed from confusion, to realization, and then a gentle, almost featherlight understanding.\n\nJacent didn’t know a lot about technology. He still struggled with many of the technological nuances of post-post-modern life: he still routinely locked himself out of his PET, he still caused unintended disasters at the various mall kiosks, it took him a good two weeks to get out of that gimp suit (though that was by far and away one of the best showers he’d ever had afterwards), and frankly, when it came down to his own personal space, he liked to keep things as simple as possible. He was certainly getting better about it, but one would understand if he hadn’t been a bit in the dark about what was occurring.\n\nHowever, the Automa weren’t [i]technology[/i]. They were [i]people[/i], and while Jacent was far from an expert at dealing with people in this fantastic and furry future, he at least had some idea of where to begin. So he, in his spare time, had read. A lot. He’d read articles on the PETNet, skimmed over anything that had been added to the beta version Encyclopedias, and listened to deep dive loremongers while making his dinner. He’d asked questions; to Widget, to those that liked to hang about on the Ink Well, and those down in Old New York. He tried to understand those that, not so long ago, but in reality, more than many lifetimes, had been his enemies. It was… important. After all, now, they were family.\n\nJacent gave a smile, turning his gaze from the pouty young lady to Archimedes, and dipped his head. \n\n“Please, come in.”\n\n-\n\nIn the living room, the young lady Automa looked around the place with placid disinterest, swaying here and there around the open living room area with careful motion before stopping to look off somewhere away from Jacent and Archimedes, her form locked in as if on display in a shop window before she’d get bored and move on to the next uninteresting thing to look at. The two watched her from near the door.\n\n“So… is that really…” Jacent ventured quietly.\n\n“Grendel? Yes. It is. Or was, rather,” Archimedes remarked with a calm and careful demeanor.\n\n“It’s… somewhat unbelievable.” Jacent said quietly.\n\n“Yes, well. Such is the nature of things. While perhaps the safest course of action… keeping Grendel’s sandbox locked up in storage had been, for some time, a source of… contention amongst the representatives of the Automa. The current Automa tribunal happens to consist of several members who [i]like to believe[/i] that they are more learned and sophisticated than their… “fleshy” counterparts here up on the surface.” Jacent couldn’t help but laugh internally a [i]little[/i] at that, given Archimedes' slight annoyance.\n\n“The perceived cruelty of such a fate, even if so deserved, was deemed too unbecoming to allow. So, we had a vote and it was decided, by a somewhat narrow margin, rather than allowing her to suffer being stuck in a vault for the indefinite future, and risk having her hate and misanthropy fester in the darkness to possibly be unleashed in the future, the one known as Grendel would have her sandbox raked in public ignominity. Once that was done, things would be stabilized as is… “proper” for an Automa of her age and she would be given a chance to start over.”\n\n“I’ve… heard of the process. From what I’ve heard, it seems to be a very important part of Automa culture…” Jacent ventured, “While I admit I found it to be somewhat strange and a little morbid at first, in the end, it’s not something I’m philosophically unfamiliar with. Many Eastern philosophies have… or… had, concepts about reincarnation and the shedding of one’s earthly attachments in order to achieve enlightenment or pass beyond.”\n\n“Of course,” Archimedes replied, tapping his cane against the floor, “Unfortunately age comes for all of us, even those without the biological barriers to worry about failing health. There’s only so much you can do with information, after all, and eventually it just starts clogging up the works, and you go mad. Best to clean things out while you still have a choice in the matter. However, since Grendel was mad enough to begin with, it was felt that there was no harm in scraping things down to the bedrock.”\n\n“So… what’s even left?”\n\n“Just… the core. The basic nature… We’re still philosophizing on what that even means, but even without memories, there’s [i]something[/i] there. The imprint that was first made on the box itself, one supposes.”\n\n“Amazing.”\n\n“Indeed… there’s of course a few implanted, sanitized memories. That’s no secret. Things to hold onto, so that the mind can decide how it feels. A puppet show, a roller coaster, walking on the beach, a rainy day in a forest. A dozen dozen or so little snippets to give some soil for the mind to grow in.”\n\nThe girl detached her PET from her leg and began to use it. The keystrokes of her typing on it were punctuated by synthetic clacks that became the background noise for the other two’s conversation as she cast her face down into it, turned away from them, her tail flicking back and forth, reminiscent in a way of an agitated cat.\n\n“So she doesn’t remember anything?”\n\n“No. For better or worse, her time as Grendel is over. She has a fresh mind, and a new body to go with it.”\n\n“I… noticed. Was that… part of the punishment?” Jacent ventured.\n\nThe girl’s tail flicked sharply and smacked one of the toys on the shelf near the holoscreen. Without looking, the tip of her tail curled around and caught the toy before it could topple from the shelf, carefully pushing it back upright before drooping down to do low sweeps back and forth along the floor.\n\n“No. She… designed it for herself, actually. To little surprise, I imagine, she’s a very impassioned young lady, which is partially what I came here to talk to you about.”\n\nJacent perked up, and gave a firm nod before motioning towards his couch, “Of course! Please, have a seat, the both of you.”\n\n“Della,” Archimedes said, speaking up across the living room. The girl, apparently Della, gave a soft huff and glared back over her shoulder before turning around and swaying back to the couch, plopping down on the far corner with a heavy thump. It’s… fortunate that the couches are built with an entire pack piling onto them in mind.\n\nArchimedes lowered himself down slowly as Jacent sat down in the smaller conversation seat across the table from them. He picked up his plate, showing it off a little, “I hope you don’t mind? I… had just made lunch and… I really wouldn’t want it to get cold.”\n\n“Not at all,” Archimedes said before Jacent dipped his head in thanks and… began to dig in rather intensely. Della raised a brow, though Archimedes just sat back.\n\n“So,” Jacent said, in between bites of his delightfully breaded, citrusy meal, “I am… glad to see that you are doing well,” he said before swallowing, and shoveling in some more rice in the same breath, “Ah, you too as well… um… Della?”\n\nDella just looked annoyed and turned back to her PET, hunching her shoulders down.\n\n“But, what can I do for you?”\n\n“Well,” Archimedes began, “You see, Mr. Danger, while we’ve been doing this sort of thing for going on five centuries now, and have dealt with our fair share of troublemakers and zealots, certainly, some of which have even come close to causing disaster on a terrific scale…”\n\nArchimedes, perhaps out of rhetorical habit, stroked his faux marble beard.\n\n“...few, if any, have approached the level of controversy that Grendel embodied. You yourself have better knowledge than most anyone of what she was like, and while she is gone, her deeds are [i]not[/i] forgotten.\n\n“To that end, while we are keeping a very close eye on Della, and doing our best to foster her development into a bright young Automa… There are those that are not convinced of her… safety.”\n\n“They think I’m going to snap and start murdering people,” Della stated flatly, with all the sneer of a goth crossed with a mean girl cheerleader. She didn’t even look up from her PET.\n\n“That… is a concern. She’s a very passionate girl, whether or not she likes to show it. Enough so that it makes some of the others in the local group [i]uncomfortable.[/i]”\n\n“Like, I just wanna fuck stuff, I don’t see what the big deal is,” she remarked, actually looking up with a steely glare. \n\nJacent stops nearly in mid bite and flushes a bit, putting his plate down.\n\n“I’m not whoever that was. I don’t remember any of that shit. Isn’t that normal? Why am I any different?”\n\n“You’re not,” Archimedes responded, looking over at her and taking a slightly gentler, more paternal tone, “You’re just like the rest of us, but unfortunately, your… predecessor was an extremely complex figure who left a lot of bad feelings in her wake, and it’s a ghost that you’ve been saddled with.”\n\nDella gave a hiss and returned to typing on her PET as Archimedes looked over to Jacent.\n\n“Which is why I’m here. In this time, Della is going to need people around her who have experience with her past self, but also can help her future self grow into the person she wants to be… while still maintaining a healthy environment.”\n\n“Of course,” Jacent smiled… “I will be happy to help, any way I can.”\n\n“Good, I need her to stay here with you.”\n\nDella’s typing stopped instantly and she snapped her gaze up at the other Automa, “[i]What?[/i]”\n\n“Come again?” Jacent blinked, a dumbfounded look on his face.\n\n“Yes. As I said, she doesn’t have many friends among the Automa. At most, the tribunal sees her as a project or a proof of concept, and her decisions on presentation haven’t exactly given any assurances on the matter.\n\n“You have dealt with both Miss Long and Grendel, and know the personality at the heart of this… what I would hesitate to call “conflict” better than anyone. You were the obvious choice, apart from Miss Grayswift, though I imagine she has her hands full with much more these days.”\n\n“Of course, I wouldn’t expect her to volunteer,” Jacent shook his head, digging absent-mindedly through his rice with his chopsticks, “though, I’m sure Natalie would be happy to help out, once she knew the situation, of course.”\n\n“She most likely does.”\n\n“What, really?”\n\n“I had already sent an electronic missive informing Miss Grayswift of the situation,” the elder statesman remarked, tapping his cane against the floor out of habit, “She’s no doubt received it by now.”\n\n“Oh, well. That’s good. Ah… pardon me, but it seems like an odd oversight, that I didn’t get one, doesn’t it? Unless you specifically wanted to meet in person first…” Jacent responded, quirking a brow as he rubbed his chin, curious as to the old man’s reasons-\n\n“Oh I did.” Archimedes replied succinctly.\n\n“What?”\n\n“I sent it. Several days ago. But it remains unread, so I thought that being direct might be a preferable approach.”\n\nJacent frowned and pulled out his PET, thumbing through the various apps and programs on it. The messages were clean. He wouldn’t be missing one, especially from Sam. Not after last time.\n\nNo. Perhaps in one of the other programs? Something buried? Local messageboard? Personal community site? Ah, here we go, good old electronic mail. It was buried pretty far down there… When was the last time he had opened it? \n\nThe application jumped to life and a window slid out from the side of the screen into view.\n\n>You have 736 NEW MESSAGES.<\n\nJacent furrowed his brow…\n\n“Ah, I see.” He looked up from his PET for a brief moment before putting it back to sleep and tucking it back into his windbreaker. \n\n“I should… probably take care of that after we’re done here.”\n\n“Probably,” the elder Automa remarked. Della rolled her eyes, the thought of having her messages go unread probably intensely annoying.\n\n“Regardless,” Archimedes began again, “I understand this is a lot to ask. I would prefer not to, and honestly, this should be handled amongst ourselves, but in the service of protecting the public good in the face of self-important demonstration, I have to do something to ensure things work out, for both the public good, and for the young lady here.”\n\nJacent’s gaze moved to Della, looking at her compressed over into the corner of the couch, trying her best to ignore the both of them.\n\n“She will be judged; unfairly and harshly, and she needs people who can look past that. Still, I understand that it isn’t your responsibility, so if you do not wish to, I will not ask you to-”\n\n“No. That is fine. She is welcome here. I would be remiss to turn away a stranger, much less…”\n\nJacent wasn’t sure how to feel about her, to be honest. \n\nShe was… strange. Familiar, yet alien. Threatening, yet reserved. She had far more in common with the current era than the one he’d come from, but yet, the roots ran deep even if she didn’t remember it, which… that could only be absolutely perplexing for her. He could only imagine what everyone projected onto her. And from the sound of things, Archimedes fully expected that to continue. \n\nDella’s frown became more pronounced, “So that’s it, you’re just going to drop me off here?”\n\n“I thought you wanted to get away from the rock garden, Della. Besides, up here on the surface you’ll have plenty of opportunity to meet new people, and I’m sure you’ll find their interests more… aligned with yours.”\n\nDella scoffed softly, but her protest was over and the tapping returned in full force.\n\n“I suppose it’s settled then,” the elder statesman said, pushing himself to his feet with his cane.\n\n“Well, I mean, if she’s sure that’s what she wants.”\n\n“Whatever. I was getting bored in the stupid bot creche anyway.”\n\n“It’s fine, Della,” Archimedes said, that gentle reassurance returning, “You’ll do fine. If you need anything, you know how to get in touch.”\n\n“Do we need to go pick up her things or…?” Jacent asked, his mind picking through the process of suddenly and randomly moving someone into their apartment. Could they even do that? Perhaps they’d have to find another place nearby? Oh goodness, what would Jasmine think? That was going to be a nightmare in of itself, and he hadn’t even [i]considered[/i] that. She was out with Widget, of course, so perhaps he’d have a little while to try and figure out a way to introduce her to the concept before-\n\nIt was then that the door opened with a hiss and in stepped Jasmine and Widget, laughing about something as they came back to grab something from Jasmine’s room. \n\nThe two of them made it about three steps into the living room before stopping dead in their tracks.\n\nWidget's eyes went wide and her jaw kind of… hung open a bit.\n\nJasmine, on the other hand, looked confused. She looked at Archimedes, then at Jacent, then at Della.\n\nThen her face slowly contorted through several different conflicting emotions before settling on what could best be described as enraged panic.\n\nArchimedes gave a low burst of static, sounding somewhat as if he’d cleared his throat, “We’ll have anything that needs to be sent over. I believe I will be going now. You have a good afternoon, Mr. Danger.”\n\nJasmine made a noise that sounded almost like air being forced between sandpaper.\n\n[i]“What the unholy FUCKING T-”[/i]\n\n-\n\n“No. No. No! Absolutely not! We cannot! It just… I… I [i]cannot[/i] deal with this,” Jasmine stammered, her fingers curling into claws as she tried to strangle the air in front of her, trying to find a way to express herself.\n\nWidget had cautiously retreated to Jasmine’s room in the meantime, and Jacent was rummaging through the organizer on the kitchen counter the countertop automaid cleaning off his plate from lunch. The sound of Della’s tapping could be heard quietly from the front room.\n\n“I understand,” Jacent said calmly, setting aside dishes for the next few days’ meals so he would have them ready, “Believe me, Jiějiě. I do.” \n\n“No you- I mean… okay. Yes. [i]You do.[/i] I know you absolutely do, Jie Xian. But… that’s why we [i]can’t.[/i] [i]She[/i] can’t! She…” Jasmine smacked the invisible specter she was arguing with, occasionally glancing up to her sibling with an impressively tortured expression on her facial display.\n\n“She has done nothing.” Jacent said, his expression peaceful as he typed the days onto each container.\n\n“But that’s… she’s…”\n\n“Not her anymore. And she deserves a second chance. …a first chance, to be perfectly honest.”\n\n“But… but… this isn’t fair! This isn’t fair to me! This isn’t fair to [i]YOU.[/i]”\n\n“It’s not fair to her, either. That is why we must be understanding. Because others can’t and won’t. Not yet.”\n\n“I hate it. I hate it! I fucking [i]haaaate-[/i]” She threw a punch at the fridge, the field around it compressing a bit, rebuffing the serious force that had often been leveled at it in jest with only a modicum of protest in the form of a high pitched whine that subsided as Jasmine was pushed back a couple of feet, her frustration thrown off-kilter.\n\n“Augh! Asshole fridge!”\n\n“It’s just defending itself,” Jacent said with a small smile, “had to teach it a few things after the breakdancing incident.”\n\n“You would… I just hate this. And I hate that you’re so… [i]cool[/i] with it?! Like.. what the hell, Jie Xian?!”\n\n“Honestly, after everything we’ve gone through? I’m starting to get used to just… ambient weirdness. I’m not sure this is even the strangest thing that’s happened this month, and it probably doesn’t even rate in the top ten all-time, to be honest.”\n\n“Seriously? When did you get so unshakeable?”\n\n“When it comes to helping people, I do what I must,” he said, taking [i]that[/i] tone, as if he was speaking to a reporter after yet another public crisis. Jasmine rolled her eyes and hissed with disgust.\n\n“Ugh, it’s going to be like [i]that[/i], huh?”\n\n“Just… think of it like… finding out you had a long lost sister,” Jacent said, doing his best to sound as reassuring as he always did, “Sure, it’ll be a bit weird, but… we can make it work. Besides, if we can’t, who can?”\n\nJasmine was quiet for a moment before putting up her hands and walking out towards the living room, “Whatever. But she’d better not start any shit.”\n\nPassing into the living room, she proceeded back towards her room, pausing at the entrance to the hall to stop and glare at Della, who was still tapping away at her PET on the couch. She stopped, aware that Jasmine was there, and after a moment looked up, the two exchanging a glower.\n\nJasmine’s expression was decidedly sour, and Della’s more articulated face pulled into a sneer from her plump lips before she turned back down towards her PET. Hackles raised, Jazz watched her for a moment before stomping into the hallway towards her room.\n\n-\n\nJacent entered the living room again with his gentle smile, walking over to Della who was still sitting on the couch where she had been since Archimedes had left.\n\nShe gave a glance to him, quickly, her eyes returning to the screen of her PET. Her tapping got slightly more intense.\n\n“Della?”\n\nHer gaze narrowed and she gave a soft, vocoded huff before stopping her browsing and standing, cocking her hips and looking at him with her disinterested gaze.\n\n“What is it?” She said flatly, as if he’d walked up to her at the bus stop.\n\n“Well, I was thinking, since Archimedes wants you to stay with us for a bit, while it might not be ideal, if you go around that corner,” he gestured back behind him, as if displaying something to her, “on the other side of the kitchen, there is an office room that I use for meditation. There’s not… really anything in it but floor mats and a few minor effects for tea and incense, but it has a big window with a lovely view. Jasmine never really goes in there, and I can always meditate on the roof or at the park, so if you like, you’re welcome to use that space as your own for the time being.”\n\nDella pursed her lips.\n\n“...I could just get an apartment, you know. I don’t need to stay here,” she responded, her tone unchanging.\n\n“You could! And if you wish to, that’s absolutely fine! There are a few on this floor, I know. I think the one across and to the left might be vacant, even.”\n\n“So, why worry about it?”\n\n“Well, I feel, if we’re to be helping you out, the least we could do is make you feel at home.”\n\nDella’s eye twitched slightly, “I haven’t done anything, you know. It’s not my fault everyone is weird about it, and I don’t need any sympathy either.”\n\n“Oh, I know. Believe me… I have… been in similar situations, so there is no sympathy necessary. I understand. Just… consider it an offer freely given, from one awkward outsider to another.”\n\nShe paused for a moment before rolling her eyes… in a way that reminded him of Jasmine, enough that he made a mental note to never mention it. Or at least, not anytime soon.\n\n“Whatever. Fine. If it makes you feel better.”\n\n“It would,” Jacent gave a little nod, and producing his spare keycard from his tracksuit, he extended his hand to give it to her. \n\nThere was a pause as she glanced down at it. Jacent noticed the change in her countenance.\n\nIt wasn’t really her gaze or expression that changed, she had full control over that, naturally, and it remained a steely pout as it had been thus far, but what he did notice was a subtle change in her body language. It loosened. She had either been standing in an almost statuesque or performative manner when she was up and eyes were on her, or tense and withdrawn when sitting down while the conversation had continued between him and Archamedes or Jasmine, seemingly hiding off to the side.\n\nBut when he held out his hand, she… relaxed. She slouched a little and her shoulders settled for the first time.\n\n“...thanks.” she said quietly and took the card from his hand. Had Jazz [i]ever[/i] sounded that soft, he wondered?\n\nAnd yet there they were, the eyes of that dragon, so familiar and so feared, staring back at him. Just a hatchling, but a dragon, nonetheless.\n\nBut, Jacent thought, fortunately for all of them, this was a very different world.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "It was a rather plain Tuesday morning.  Clear with ruffled clouds and a pleasantly cool spring weather forecast, Jacent had acquired a kinetic track suit and was going to try it out after a quick lunch of “orange chicken” and rice.  

The orange part was a bit dubious as the stand-ins for one’s traditional oranges tended to be a bit off (and there were honestly more varieties of citrus than he could remember there being in his time) so whenever he felt adventurous he would substitute in a new one just to see how it affected the flavor (though there were at least an approximation of your traditional navels, tangerines, and mandarins that worked well enough.)  

The “chicken”, on the other hand, was just wishful thinking, not that he hadn’t gotten used to it.  The flavor was there, and honestly a little more robust than he’d remembered, but the texture was never quite right.  Still, such is life.  

At least the rice was exactly how he remembered it.

A plate for himself sat, already made, off to the side next to the rice cooker as he shoveled the rest of the big batch into a container and shut off the plasma field under his big metal wok.  

It was as he finished getting that packed away that the doorbell buzzed.

Odd.  If it was his sister, her girlfriend, or any of his packmates, they would have simply entered.  They all had a code or cards…  Must be a guest!  Interesting.

Hopefully it wasn’t another amateur historian… As pleasant as it was to talk to them, generally, the level of secondhand embarrassment and internal conflict when discussing humanity’s past was always hard to deal with.  

Make no mistake, their enthusiasm was palpable in a way that made him smile, but some of the things they asked about were hard for him to even recall… while their notions on other things were often… somewhat amusingly mistaken.  It didn’t help that they often lacked the professional filters of the ones that Ms. Hendrix occasionally brought to see him at school.  That was a lot more formal, and he could at least generally be… a smidge more helpful …and avoid hurt feelings.

He pressed one of the general purpose plates on the wall nearby, broadcasting his voice out into the hall in a way that made him feel… honestly very futurey!  Like he was on the bridge of some space-faring vessel or something, the PA opening up with a friendly series of bleeps.

“I will be there right away.  One moment!”

He hefted the thermal container and set it to the appropriate temperature like he was setting an old oven before sticking it in the “fridge” to maintain itself.  Then he took his plate with him into the front room, giving it a big, indulgent whiff before setting it on the coffee table before heading to the door.

“Mr. Danger,” greeted a wizened voice as the door slid open to reveal the two figures standing out in the hall, “A moment of your time, if you would?”

Both were obvious Automa, without any sort of holograms to even attempt to obscure the fact.

One was very obviously the statesman Archimedes, who Jacent had met a few times before, his marblesque exterior and chiseled visage apparent at a glance.  His keen eyes peered up at Jacent’s taller frame as he stood up straighter from his slight stoop, tucking one arm behind him as he pushed himself up with his walking cane.  It was an entirely unnecessary affectation, but then again, most are.

He did, after all, possess a godlike physique underneath the heavily layered toga.  Archimedes wasn’t just a statesman.  Like the figures of old he styled himself after, he was a fighter, too, though one who elected to generally not, in favor of getting those better suited or more enthusiastic about it to do as they wished.  No, his form had to convey one of experience and reason, the strength implicit, and so his frame was one of quiet age and authority.  It was an odd flex, but one that Jacent couldn’t help but respect.  It was effective in that way, certainly.

The other, however, was more curious.

She was… well, as they would say back in the day, bodacious.  It was really hard to describe her any other way.  The young lady’s form, while not perhaps entirely out of the realm of possibility for the current era, was still tremendously and indulgently sculpted, and moving from Archimedes face directly to her, he couldn’t help look straight over at her… grand assets, however unintentionally.

Though the manner of her construction was familiar, her curves were almost violent.  A frankly ridiculously attention grabbing rack took up a large portion of the view, and a contrastingly slim, sculpted feminine torso and mound that belled out into an impressively round and robust bubble butt for the base. All of it was shaped from a soft gel encased in a dark and glossy, almost translucent exterior skin that comprised most of her core, save for the reinforced housing around her spine.  Her limbs were made of a familiar, flexible, smooth, and glossy white plasticesque material.  They were shaped to fit against her core like evening gloves and thigh boots, with thick thighs tapering down to split-toed stiletto heels, and sturdy, if delicate looking arms and hands.  Her modesty was… barely kept, wrapped in what could generously be called strips of rubber to cover herself, perhaps only as a courtesy.  A thick, flexible, and segmented tail curled behind her, flicking now and again.

Her form was framed by a pair of frankly impressively oversized pigtails, and noting that for himself, Jacent pulled his gaze up towards her face.

He felt himself flush as he took in the details of the young synthetic woman.  This frame was… intensely built, certainly.  But as he reached her face, despite the advanced shape and pouting lips, there was something about her that was instantly recognizable.  The shape of her face, that intense glowing cyan peering from ebon eyes, and the weight of her gaze.  Familiar.  Terrifying.  Slowly what felt like every muscle in his body tensed.  Tension rose.  The fight or flight response arguing with itself as he tried to hold fast.

And then she… looked away.  And the spell was broken, in its place a strange, sad emptiness that flowed from confusion, to realization, and then a gentle, almost featherlight understanding.

Jacent didn’t know a lot about technology.  He still struggled with many of the technological nuances of post-post-modern life: he still routinely locked himself out of his PET, he still caused unintended disasters at the various mall kiosks, it took him a good two weeks to get out of that gimp suit (though that was by far and away one of the best showers he’d ever had afterwards), and frankly, when it came down to his own personal space, he liked to keep things as simple as possible.  He was certainly getting better about it, but one would understand if he hadn’t been a bit in the dark about what was occurring.

However, the Automa weren’t technology.  They were people, and while Jacent was far from an expert at dealing with people in this fantastic and furry future, he at least had some idea of where to begin.  So he, in his spare time, had read.  A lot. He’d read articles on the PETNet, skimmed over anything that had been added to the beta version Encyclopedias, and listened to deep dive loremongers while making his dinner.  He’d asked questions; to Widget, to those that liked to hang about on the Ink Well, and those down in Old New York.  He tried to understand those that, not so long ago, but in reality, more than many lifetimes, had been his enemies.  It was… important.  After all, now, they were family.

Jacent gave a smile, turning his gaze from the pouty young lady to Archimedes, and dipped his head.

“Please, come in.”

-

In the living room, the young lady Automa looked around the place with placid disinterest, swaying here and there around the open living room area with careful motion before stopping to look off somewhere away from Jacent and Archimedes, her form locked in as if on display in a shop window before she’d get bored and move on to the next uninteresting thing to look at.  The two watched her from near the door.

“So… is that really…” Jacent ventured quietly.

“Grendel?  Yes.  It is.  Or was, rather,” Archimedes remarked with a calm and careful demeanor.

“It’s… somewhat unbelievable.”  Jacent said quietly.

“Yes, well.  Such is the nature of things.  While perhaps the safest course of action… keeping Grendel’s sandbox locked up in storage had been, for some time, a source of… contention amongst the representatives of the Automa.  The current Automa tribunal happens to consist of several members who like to believe that they are more learned and sophisticated than their… “fleshy” counterparts here up on the surface.”  Jacent couldn’t help but laugh internally a little at that, given Archimedes' slight annoyance.

“The perceived cruelty of such a fate, even if so deserved, was deemed too unbecoming to allow.  So, we had a vote and it was decided, by a somewhat narrow margin, rather than allowing her to suffer being stuck in a vault for the indefinite future, and risk having her hate and misanthropy fester in the darkness to possibly be unleashed in the future, the one known as Grendel would have her sandbox raked in public ignominity.  Once that was done, things would be stabilized as is… “proper” for an Automa of her age and she would be given a chance to start over.”

“I’ve… heard of the process.  From what I’ve heard, it seems to be a very important part of Automa culture…” Jacent ventured, “While I admit I found it to be somewhat strange and a little morbid at first, in the end, it’s not something I’m philosophically unfamiliar with.  Many Eastern philosophies have… or… had, concepts about reincarnation and the shedding of one’s earthly attachments in order to achieve enlightenment or pass beyond.”

“Of course,” Archimedes replied, tapping his cane against the floor, “Unfortunately age comes for all of us, even those without the biological barriers to worry about failing health.  There’s only so much you can do with information, after all, and eventually it just starts clogging up the works, and you go mad.  Best to clean things out while you still have a choice in the matter.  However, since Grendel was mad enough to begin with, it was felt that there was no harm in scraping things down to the bedrock.”

“So… what’s even left?”

“Just… the core.  The basic nature…  We’re still philosophizing on what that even means, but even without memories, there’s something there.  The imprint that was first made on the box itself, one supposes.”

“Amazing.”

“Indeed… there’s of course a few implanted, sanitized memories.  That’s no secret.  Things to hold onto, so that the mind can decide how it feels.  A puppet show, a roller coaster, walking on the beach, a rainy day in a forest.  A dozen dozen or so little snippets to give some soil for the mind to grow in.”

The girl detached her PET from her leg and began to use it.  The keystrokes of her typing on it were punctuated by synthetic clacks that became the background noise for the other two’s conversation as she cast her face down into it, turned away from them, her tail flicking back and forth, reminiscent in a way of an agitated cat.

“So she doesn’t remember anything?”

“No.  For better or worse, her time as Grendel is over.  She has a fresh mind, and a new body to go with it.”

“I… noticed.  Was that… part of the punishment?” Jacent ventured.

The girl’s tail flicked sharply and smacked one of the toys on the shelf near the holoscreen.  Without looking, the tip of her tail curled around and caught the toy before it could topple from the shelf, carefully pushing it back upright before drooping down to do low sweeps back and forth along the floor.

“No.  She… designed it for herself, actually.  To little surprise, I imagine, she’s a very impassioned young lady, which is partially what I came here to talk to you about.”

Jacent perked up, and gave a firm nod before motioning towards his couch, “Of course!  Please, have a seat, the both of you.”

“Della,” Archimedes said, speaking up across the living room.  The girl, apparently Della, gave a soft huff and glared back over her shoulder before turning around and swaying back to the couch, plopping down on the far corner with a heavy thump.  It’s… fortunate that the couches are built with an entire pack piling onto them in mind.

Archimedes lowered himself down slowly as Jacent sat down in the smaller conversation seat across the table from them.  He picked up his plate, showing it off a little, “I hope you don’t mind? I… had just made lunch and… I really wouldn’t want it to get cold.”

“Not at all,” Archimedes said before Jacent dipped his head in thanks and… began to dig in rather intensely.  Della raised a brow, though Archimedes just sat back.

“So,” Jacent said, in between bites of his delightfully breaded, citrusy meal, “I am… glad to see that you are doing well,” he said before swallowing, and shoveling in some more rice in the same breath, “Ah, you too as well… um… Della?”

Della just looked annoyed and turned back to her PET, hunching her shoulders down.

“But, what can I do for you?”

“Well,” Archimedes began, “You see, Mr. Danger, while we’ve been doing this sort of thing for going on five centuries now, and have dealt with our fair share of troublemakers and zealots, certainly, some of which have even come close to causing disaster on a terrific scale…”

Archimedes, perhaps out of rhetorical habit, stroked his faux marble beard.

“...few, if any, have approached the level of controversy that Grendel embodied.  You yourself have better knowledge than most anyone of what she was like, and while she is gone, her deeds are not forgotten.

“To that end, while we are keeping a very close eye on Della, and doing our best to foster her development into a bright young Automa… There are those that are not convinced of her… safety.”

“They think I’m going to snap and start murdering people,” Della stated flatly, with all the sneer of a goth crossed with a mean girl cheerleader.  She didn’t even look up from her PET.

“That… is a concern.  She’s a very passionate girl, whether or not she likes to show it.  Enough so that it makes some of the others in the local group uncomfortable.”

“Like, I just wanna fuck stuff, I don’t see what the big deal is,” she remarked, actually looking up with a steely glare.  

Jacent stops nearly in mid bite and flushes a bit, putting his plate down.

“I’m not whoever that was.  I don’t remember any of that shit.  Isn’t that normal?  Why am I any different?”

“You’re not,” Archimedes responded, looking over at her and taking a slightly gentler, more paternal tone, “You’re just like the rest of us, but unfortunately, your… predecessor was an extremely complex figure who left a lot of bad feelings in her wake, and it’s a ghost that you’ve been saddled with.”

Della gave a hiss and returned to typing on her PET as Archimedes looked over to Jacent.

“Which is why I’m here.  In this time, Della is going to need people around her who have experience with her past self, but also can help her future self grow into the person she wants to be… while still maintaining a healthy environment.”

“Of course,” Jacent smiled… “I will be happy to help, any way I can.”

“Good, I need her to stay here with you.”

Della’s typing stopped instantly and she snapped her gaze up at the other Automa, “What?”

“Come again?” Jacent blinked, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Yes.  As I said, she doesn’t have many friends among the Automa.  At most, the tribunal sees her as a project or a proof of concept, and her decisions on presentation haven’t exactly given any assurances on the matter.

“You have dealt with both Miss Long and Grendel, and know the personality at the heart of this… what I would hesitate to call “conflict” better than anyone.  You were the obvious choice, apart from Miss Grayswift, though I imagine she has her hands full with much more these days.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect her to volunteer,” Jacent shook his head, digging absent-mindedly through his rice with his chopsticks, “though, I’m sure Natalie would be happy to help out, once she knew the situation, of course.”

“She most likely does.”

“What, really?”

“I had already sent an electronic missive informing Miss Grayswift of the situation,” the elder statesman remarked, tapping his cane against the floor out of habit, “She’s no doubt received it by now.”

“Oh, well.  That’s good.  Ah… pardon me, but it seems like an odd oversight, that I didn’t get one, doesn’t it?  Unless you specifically wanted to meet in person first…”  Jacent responded, quirking a brow as he rubbed his chin, curious as to the old man’s reasons-

“Oh I did.” Archimedes replied succinctly.

“What?”

“I sent it.  Several days ago.  But it remains unread, so I thought that being direct might be a preferable approach.”

Jacent frowned and pulled out his PET, thumbing through the various apps and programs on it.  The messages were clean.  He wouldn’t be missing one, especially from Sam.  Not after last time.

No.  Perhaps in one of the other programs?  Something buried?  Local messageboard?  Personal community site?  Ah, here we go, good old electronic mail.  It was buried pretty far down there…  When was the last time he had opened it?  

The application jumped to life and a window slid out from the side of the screen into view.

>You have 736 NEW MESSAGES.<

Jacent furrowed his brow…

“Ah, I see.”  He looked up from his PET for a brief moment before putting it back to sleep and tucking it back into his windbreaker.  

“I should… probably take care of that after we’re done here.”

“Probably,” the elder Automa remarked.  Della rolled her eyes, the thought of having her messages go unread probably intensely annoying.

“Regardless,” Archimedes began again, “I understand this is a lot to ask.  I would prefer not to, and honestly, this should be handled amongst ourselves, but in the service of protecting the public good in the face of self-important demonstration, I have to do something to ensure things work out, for both the public good, and for the young lady here.”

Jacent’s gaze moved to Della, looking at her compressed over into the corner of the couch, trying her best to ignore the both of them.

“She will be judged; unfairly and harshly, and she needs people who can look past that.  Still, I understand  that it isn’t your responsibility, so if you do not wish to, I will not ask you to-”

“No.  That is fine.  She is welcome here.  I would be remiss to turn away a stranger, much less…”

Jacent wasn’t sure how to feel about her, to be honest.  

She was… strange.  Familiar, yet alien. Threatening, yet reserved.  She had far more in common with the current era than the one he’d come from, but yet, the roots ran deep even if she didn’t remember it, which… that could only be absolutely perplexing for her.  He could only imagine what everyone projected onto her.  And from the sound of things, Archimedes fully expected that to continue.

Della’s frown became more pronounced, “So that’s it, you’re just going to drop me off here?”

“I thought you wanted to get away from the rock garden, Della.  Besides, up here on the surface you’ll have plenty of opportunity to meet new people, and I’m sure you’ll find their interests more… aligned with yours.”

Della scoffed softly, but her protest was over and the tapping returned in full force.

“I suppose it’s settled then,” the elder statesman said, pushing himself to his feet with his cane.

“Well, I mean, if she’s sure that’s what she wants.”

“Whatever.  I was getting bored in the stupid bot creche anyway.”

“It’s fine, Della,” Archimedes said, that gentle reassurance returning, “You’ll do fine.  If you need anything, you know how to get in touch.”

“Do we need to go pick up her things or…?” Jacent asked, his mind picking through the process of suddenly and randomly moving someone into their apartment.  Could they even do that?  Perhaps they’d have to find another place nearby?  Oh goodness, what would Jasmine think?  That was going to be a nightmare in of itself, and he hadn’t even considered that.  She was out with Widget, of course, so perhaps he’d have a little while to try and figure out a way to introduce her to the concept before-

It was then that the door opened with a hiss and in stepped Jasmine and Widget, laughing about something as they came back to grab something from Jasmine’s room.  

The two of them made it about three steps into the living room before stopping dead in their tracks.

Widget's eyes went wide and her jaw kind of… hung open a bit.

Jasmine, on the other hand, looked confused.  She looked at Archimedes, then at Jacent, then at Della.

Then her face slowly contorted through several different conflicting emotions before settling on what could best be described as enraged panic.

Archimedes gave a low burst of static, sounding somewhat as if he’d cleared his throat, “We’ll have anything that needs to be sent over.  I believe I will be going now.  You have a good afternoon, Mr. Danger.”

Jasmine made a noise that sounded almost like air being forced between sandpaper.

“What the unholy FUCKING T-”

-

“No.  No.  No!  Absolutely not!  We cannot!  It just…  I…  I cannot deal with this,”  Jasmine stammered, her fingers curling into claws as she tried to strangle the air in front of her, trying to find a way to express herself.

Widget had cautiously retreated to Jasmine’s room in the meantime, and Jacent was rummaging through the organizer on the kitchen counter the countertop automaid cleaning off his plate from lunch.  The sound of Della’s tapping could be heard quietly from the front room.

“I understand,” Jacent said calmly, setting aside dishes for the next few days’ meals so he would have them ready, “Believe me, Jiějiě.  I do.”  

“No you-  I mean… okay.  Yes.  You do.  I know you absolutely do, Jie Xian.  But… that’s why we can’t.  She can’t!  She…” Jasmine smacked the invisible specter she was arguing with, occasionally glancing up to her sibling with an impressively tortured expression on her facial display.

“She has done nothing.” Jacent said, his expression peaceful as he typed the days onto each container.

“But that’s… she’s…”

“Not her anymore.  And she deserves a second chance.  …a first chance, to be perfectly honest.”

“But… but… this isn’t fair!  This isn’t fair to me!  This isn’t fair to YOU.”

“It’s not fair to her, either.  That is why we must be understanding.  Because others can’t and won’t.  Not yet.”

“I hate it.  I hate it!  I fucking haaaate-” She threw a punch at the fridge, the field around it compressing a bit, rebuffing the serious force that had often been leveled at it in jest with only a modicum of protest in the form of a high pitched whine that subsided as Jasmine was pushed back a couple of feet, her frustration thrown off-kilter.

“Augh!  Asshole fridge!”

“It’s just defending itself,” Jacent said with a small smile, “had to teach it a few things after the breakdancing incident.”

“You would…  I just hate this.  And I hate that you’re so… cool with it?!  Like.. what the hell, Jie Xian?!”

“Honestly, after everything we’ve gone through?  I’m starting to get used to just… ambient weirdness.  I’m not sure this is even the strangest thing that’s happened this month, and it probably doesn’t even rate in the top ten all-time, to be honest.”

“Seriously?  When did you get so unshakeable?”

“When it comes to helping people, I do what I must,” he said, taking that tone, as if he was speaking to a reporter after yet another public crisis.  Jasmine rolled her eyes and hissed with disgust.

“Ugh, it’s going to be like that, huh?”

“Just… think of it like… finding out you had a long lost sister,” Jacent said, doing his best to sound as reassuring as he always did, “Sure, it’ll be a bit weird, but… we can make it work.  Besides, if we can’t, who can?”

Jasmine was quiet for a moment before putting up her hands and walking out towards the living room, “Whatever.  But she’d better not start any shit.”

Passing into the living room, she proceeded back towards her room, pausing at the entrance to the hall to stop and glare at Della, who was still tapping away at her PET on the couch.  She stopped, aware that Jasmine was there, and after a moment looked up, the two exchanging a glower.

Jasmine’s expression was decidedly sour, and Della’s more articulated face pulled into a sneer from her plump lips before she turned back down towards her PET.  Hackles raised, Jazz watched her for a moment before stomping into the hallway towards her room.

-

Jacent entered the living room again with his gentle smile, walking over to Della who was still sitting on the couch where she had been since Archimedes had left.

She gave a glance to him, quickly, her eyes returning to the screen of her PET.  Her tapping got slightly more intense.

“Della?”

Her gaze narrowed and she gave a soft, vocoded huff before stopping her browsing and standing, cocking her hips and looking at him with her disinterested gaze.

“What is it?” She said flatly, as if he’d walked up to her at the bus stop.

“Well, I was thinking, since Archimedes wants you to stay with us for a bit, while it might not be ideal, if you go around that corner,” he gestured back behind him, as if displaying something to her, “on the other side of the kitchen, there is an office room that I use for meditation.  There’s not… really anything in it but floor mats and a few minor effects for tea and incense, but it has a big window with a lovely view.  Jasmine never really goes in there, and I can always meditate on the roof or at the park, so if you like, you’re welcome to use that space as your own for the time being.”

Della pursed her lips.

“...I could just get an apartment, you know.  I don’t need to stay here,” she responded, her tone unchanging.

“You could!  And if you wish to, that’s absolutely fine!  There are a few on this floor, I know.  I think the one across and to the left might be vacant, even.”

“So, why worry about it?”

“Well, I feel, if we’re to be helping you out, the least we could do is make you feel at home.”

Della’s eye twitched slightly, “I haven’t done anything, you know.  It’s not my fault everyone is weird about it, and I don’t need any sympathy either.”

“Oh, I know.  Believe me… I have… been in similar situations, so there is no sympathy necessary.  I understand.  Just… consider it an offer freely given, from one awkward outsider to another.”

She paused for a moment before rolling her eyes… in a way that reminded him of Jasmine, enough that he made a mental note to never mention it.  Or at least, not anytime soon.

“Whatever.  Fine.  If it makes you feel better.”

“It would,” Jacent gave a little nod, and producing his spare keycard from his tracksuit, he extended his hand to give it to her.

There was a pause as she glanced down at it.  Jacent noticed the change in her countenance.

It wasn’t really her gaze or expression that changed, she had full control over that, naturally, and it remained a steely pout as it had been thus far, but what he did notice was a subtle change in her body language.  It loosened.  She had either been standing in an almost statuesque or performative manner when she was up and eyes were on her, or tense and withdrawn when sitting down while the conversation had continued between him and Archamedes or Jasmine, seemingly hiding off to the side.

But when he held out his hand, she… relaxed.  She slouched a little and her shoulders settled for the first time.

“...thanks.” she said quietly and took the card from his hand.  Had Jazz ever sounded that soft, he wondered?

And yet there they were, the eyes of that dragon, so familiar and so feared, staring back at him.  Just a hatchling, but a dragon, nonetheless.

But, Jacent thought, fortunately for all of them, this was a very different world.", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Zen Garden Present - The Arrival", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/rtf", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "1", "rating_name": "Mature", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "3", "name": "Violence", "description": "Mild violence", "rating_id": "1" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "54" }