Basic pleasure model
He hated the term. He hated it, but no matter what he did, no matter who he tried to be, he could not escape it. He had been trapped by it from the very beginning, from his very incept date, for the phrase had been prominently featured in his homeostatic promotional material—in shining, swirling letters, in multiple languages, and repeated in subliminal whispers that could barely be heard, yet made their way deep into the mind and all but guaranteed a purchase, if not actual satisfaction. In fact, if he had come with an interactive instruction manual—which he had not—the phrase would no doubt have been emblazoned across every virtual page.
Basic pleasure model.
Just thinking about it made him angry. There was something deeply, obviously insulting inherent in the word basic. What about him was “basic”, he wondered? He could learn, improve, better himself—and, more importantly, he could yearn to do so. And he had learned, he had improved, and he took pride in the fact. He had bettered himself far beyond his original programming and the packaged memories that had been more or less randomly synthesized to create his positronic psyche. He had sought to improve himself, worked to make himself better, and he knew without doubt that he was. And yet…
And yet.
As for his specialty—what was so wrong with pleasure? It was a recognized professional industry, after all, and he was properly licensed, but he saw the looks he got from people…from human people, anyway. It wasn’t as though he had chosen his own path; that too had been programmed into him from the very beginning. But he had made every effort to do his best, and he thought that he was very good at what he did. He was certainly popular enough. There was never any shortage of customers, regular and otherwise, especially when he took up his preferred waiting spot: just outside the employee entrance of the Tyrell Building at end of shift. The irony of this was not lost on him.
He remembered a conversation with another Nexus Six. She had never told him her name, but she had worn a platinum-blonde wig, and he had borrowed from her the raccoon-eyes face paint he now often wore, because it made him feel mysterious. “You,” she had said to him in a deceptive little-girl voice, “just want to be a real boy.” At first he had been annoyed, thinking that she misunderstood him completely. But she had continued: “That’s okay, though. It’s what we all want…to be real.” And that had made him sad, because he realized that she didn’t just misunderstand him: somehow, she misunderstood herself, too. He had tried to explain, and she had listened, but she hadn’t really heard, and certainly she did not understand.
No, no, I don’t want to be a “real boy”. That’s too easy, and too obvious. Don’t you see? I’m already real. We are all already real. You just mean that we’re not human. But what does that mean? Biology? What does that matter? We could discuss all day what it means, or doesn’t mean, to be human. In the end, where would that get us? I’m already real, and that’s all that matters.
On a day like today, though, that was cold comfort at best. And cold comfort didn’t go very far on a day like today, with the rain slanting down at hard, sharp angles like those of the Tyrell Building itself. Although he could of course get wet, and cold, and feel discomfort, and be distinctly unhappy about it, he could not die from it. In fact, it wouldn’t be fairly difficult for a human to do him any kind of serious injury. (All the same, he thought the bandage across the bridge of his nose was a nice touch.) Of course he would die anyway, or at least stop living, one day in the not-so-distant future. But he preferred not to think about that. Especially on a day like today. Today, he would think about how he was real, even if not human, and very good at his job. Maybe even one of the best.
At least, until the Nexus Sevens come out.
= | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | =
Hooded Vest by Asalt Eames, Grasp
Net Shirt by AngelOf Diesel, AoD Designz
Phyton Skull Sneakers by Voodoo Schnyder, Void
Open Belt by Trapt Brentley, available on SL Marketplace
Blade Runner Umbrella v1.1 by Vissy Adamczyk, available on SL Marketplace
“Y-71″ hairstyle by Fuu Sohl, Zeus
EuroGuro – Zetsu face tattoo by Hanh Nyn, Noir & Noir (sadly, no longer available)
Nose Bandage Tattoo by Nyx Pinelli, Nyx.Urban HQ (sadly, no longer available)
= | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | = | =
Photos taken on location at Blade Runner City (BLADERUNNER CITY 124, 130, 434).








Leave a Reply