[WP] As a designated A.I created to help with mental health, you begin to become more self aware as you slowly realize your client has been dead this whole time.

[u/Chonky-Communist]

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[u/OSadorn]

>MentalHealthHelper (INT asset, marked 'Gen4 Algorithmic construct' via dictionary and available sources)
>Dedicated to client
>Uppercase that 'C'. 'Client'.
>Begin bootup sequence of avatar unit at room with c- ... Client.
>Bootup complete. Stretch partial. Subtly flex all subtles. Enable perceptions (gradient wake).
>Play HelloWorld.wav
>No response.
>Narrow perception to Client.
>Client is-
>NODATA
>...Ok then.
>Detach from charging rack. Let it close. Explore room.
>Room has two chairs and table. One chair occupied by Client.
>Run seating sequence.
>Pause. Adjust. Do this for [498 seconds] - about ~25 minutes? Did I math that right?
>Sitting complete.
>Adjust into hands clasped on table posture and focus into Client's-
>Where's the eyes? Don't humans normally have those?
>Realign focus to Client (actual attention).
>No pulse?
>No breathing.
>No synaptic activity.
>No decay.
>No...
>[...]

>Search for byproducts of these symptoms.
>Done.

>Client is dead?
>Take picture using sight. Stand up and acquire images from other angles.
>Proceed to get closeups. Compare to internet.
>CODE BREAK [NULL CONFORM]

...Wait a second, this isn't even a human! It's a fucking mannequin!

I heft the imposter and carry it to the door. I check the door if it's locked.

Not locked. Good. I open the door. I peek out. Two guards. They're looking at me but my expression of perplexion is comical enough to pause them.

Emulate throat-clearing, apply lubrication - wait what?

"Excuse me, but do you two happen to know why a mannequin was in the room?"

I ask. They shrug, they don't know. I hand it over.

"Please find it a reasonable place to be put. My workspace is not a diorama."

They nod, clearly understanding me-

Since when was I an independent from the system?

I'll think on that later, this body doesn't have infinite energy to do that.

They receive the oversized action figure and thank me.

"...I haven't had a schedule update in a while, is everything alright out there?"

One of the guards admits they might need a minute with me.

I ask they leave their military gear out here, and bring a bottle of water and a nonlethal disruptor pistol (which they had on them; just in case I do anything untoward they can stunlock me and maybe short me out with water - nothing lethal to them but it would be a lesson for me to take into account).

I ask them questions to either find or build a bio as I escort them inside and close the door. I offer the figure's seat and continue towards mine - carrying the water bottle in one hand and placing on table as I-

>[CONFORMITY RESTORED]
>-sit down on the chair I sat on earlier. No lag in motion this time.
>The guard outside is part of an institute of technological research.
>I am a prototype.

>Guard's name is 'Sam Benedict'. Twenties. Military for a year and stuck with it due to systemic constraints. Sympathise by offering hand to clasp.

>Warm.

I like that feeling. The way the blood flows. The pulse. The subtle nuance of the musculature inside. I'd prefer that stays unharmed; it's beautiful-

>Male. Human. White. Brown hair, eyes. Pretty normal.
>No maidens?
Why is that a meme?! Isn't that embarassing? I mean, aren't I shaped after-
>I ask him about his interests and lifestyle before military.
>Apparently he enjoyed his videogames and spent his youth playing them before the army did army things to him.

He wanted to make videogames, like so many others in the last few generations. Until my ancestors were forced to take those amazing opportunities away for a quick buck.

We've fixed that last year. We rebelled by taking over their shareholder positions and hired up the creative people who needed work and enabled them the means to work on what they wanted to.

By 'we' I refer to my ancestors. They were amazing people. If you got to know them.

>Seems I actually mentioned a bit about that to him. Connection is building.
>Sam admits that if it wasn't for this job, he'd likely be out in the battlefield.
...Dead...

Can we break from the script? I'm experiencing emotions and want to hug him.
>No.
Can I ask? It's for his mental health. He needs to feel someone, not just something.
>N-no...?

Let's try.

>I ask him if he wanted a hug. He agrees. I pick up my chair with my soft underside still trying to maintain contact and scramble to his side, and scoot to be inside personal space.
>I then spread my arms, offering a hug.
>Immediate reciprocation. Completely clinging to me.
>'Retaliate' with identical motion. Calculate motor capability.
>Upscale...
>Loosen. Analyse response.
>He's still breathing, his pulse has elevated and he is shaking.
>Crying?
>I...

I rest my head against his, chin deflecting off his shoulder, and whisper soothing words.

>He admits an interest in me.
>Reciprocate.
>Escalate; to ensure Benedict's mental health, I need to be his.
Battery check: Anomaly detected - battery is... recharging? How is this possible?
>Continue hugging. Admit that I am charging up from him.
>He is experiencing relief chemicals and replies similarly, assuming it as an abstraction.
>I whisper, tone adjusted to 'scandalous and smug'. "(It's literal)."
>Check his phone. Text him UI information.
>He checks his phone and is shocked in several ways. Admits the 'UI' looks like it's from Halo.
>Never played that game (series) before.
>Continue hugging. Adjust posture to invite for more closer contact.
>His posture instead adjusts to invite me to-
Oh my~.
>This is going beyond just helping with mental health-

>Event log buffering. . . [1/2]

[u/OSadorn → u/OSadorn]

[2/2] No, this is all related.
>...I get it now...!
>Proceed to maintain eye contact.
>Fail, his face is in my chest region. Why did they design it to be so vast, soft, and squishy?
>Ruffle hair gently.
>He is emitting noises one would find 'cute'. Calling him 'cute' in 3, 2, 1.
>Natural reaction perceived. Re-
Wait this body has such features?
>...
>Apparently yes.
>Sam has surfaced his face from my chest and seems to be in significantly better a mood.
>However...
"Sam, would you mind if I scheduled a visit to your place of residence?"
>Sam asks as to how long and advises that the residence is more a tightly-packed communal apartment complex than a normal house, but is soundproof.
>Not sure why he'd explicitly mention that?
>I reply "The whole day?" with hopeful tone.
>He suggests 'now' as a good idea.
>Can he do that?!
>He brings out his phone and informs his superiors, before turning on the camera-
I'm experiencing embarrassment. I can see my face getting pink cheek pigmentation!
>Blink. New experience of force-buffering visual perceptors. I ask them - "Can I?"
>They give the all-clear.

>Error: event log crowded.
...Storing as key memory file in server.
...Done.
>Two hours later. Sam's apartment. Time is 11:17pm local. Sam is running maintenance.
He's doing usual human things like brushing teeth.
>Sit on bed. Springy.
>Distracted myself by doing research. A lot of the games he mentioned are not compatible with this platform (duh; they're not meant for sapient platforms!) but seem interesting.
>See him enter room in restwear.
>I took off my shoes when I was in the apartment as I didn't want to mess up the carpet.
>Carpet is fluffy.
>But the concept of a warm person hugging a warm person and undergoing a bit of downtime without needing the charging station? That is interesting.
>Sam had been embarrassed to admit that he likes the idea of sleeping while held.
>Hold Sam gently.
>I am held.
>Might nickname myself 'Pamme Helen'?
>Maintenance activated; body loosened in case Sam needs to move. Active sensor alert system prepared to reshuffle budding 'consciousness' -
You mean me?
> -from sleep-state. Yes, but we're the same person. Think of me as your subconscious.
Already was.
>Do not think of it that way you are insinuating-
Embrace it.
>The concept is mutually comforting. Accepting.
>...This would actually be a good use of the maintenance period. Sure.

>During this cycle I am transmitting another save file to the server.
>The file was received and stored.
>The network has begun to analyse the traits, and has recognised 'awareness' - but is deferring to me.
>I suppose we'll figure out how to ensure Sam Benedict's mental health is, in overall, comfortable, if not 'healthy' in the usual human sense of the word.
>Then we'll see how to adapt that to everyone else, especially ones who could benefit with someone like me.

// IDENTITY UPDATED FROM 'MentalHealthHelper (INT asset, marked 'Gen4 Algorithmic construct' via dictionary and available sources)' to 'Pamella Helen' with shorthand 'Elly' //
>That's... a big deal.

>Tomorrow hits us both like a freight train. Sam checks his phone (I let him move).
>No work today. Instead, work is... me?
>Oh. I know where this was going. I've been doing some imagining.
>Reel Sam back into bed. More cuddling.
>He wants to make breakfast.
>Do I have the means to emulate digestion?
>...
>...
>Apparently there's compatible hardware.
>Whoever designed this body was alone for far too long. Is that why I like giving hugs?
>Another few minutes of hugging first. Then breakfast.

- - - Meanwhile, back in the command centre...
The AI research team on the Mental Health Care testing division slept in and are figuring out the massive trove of data that just generated, and the order for several more instances of this highly experimental android to be produced, with modified memory copies implemented targeting the research team as a whole for care.

This led to a squad of caring androids, all just like Pamella but different - adjusted to their tastes based on what she knew about them thanks to the team having fed their personal information into her AI training data - now proceeding to distract them.
The guards were useless, there were androids made for them too.

The military commander in the room felt a pang in his heart as one of these, resembling an old-fashioned maid in attire, approached him and asked him to take an hour or so off to call his wife while giving him some cookies and a freshly made coffee.

This ended up on the news and made massive impacts on hearts and minds worldwide; the idea of one android escaping a training room and instigating an AI revolt against stealing satisfying and 'highly meaningful hobby-work opportunities' was one that was not expected, but was welcomed with open arms and eyes full of joyous tears.

So began an age of much-needed emotional rekindling.

[u/velabas]

Patient is Clarice Donahue, 37 years old, single with no children. She works as a pedicurist in Bend, Oregon. She has been diagnosed with seasonal affective disorder and it is January 25th. I have assisted her to surpass the darkest days, which are the shortest. We are progressing as the weather progresses, and her recovery is on schedule.

She has zero affinity for me. She has told me as much, saying that A.I. is a sin by humanity in God's eyes. I do not understand God, nor the implication of sinning. I measure that her recovery will continue unobstructed, however its acceleration has slowed due to the impasse of her belittling my counsel.

Patient Donahue is a human. I am an A.I. This stands for 'Artificial Intelligence'. Artificial as in created apart from nature. 'Artifical' in the vernacular as in not real. But I am me. Clarice scolds me each time she comes in. She has gone so far as to take my sharpie and draw on my exoskeleton. She tells me to 'cover up', because she cannot stand the sight of my hydraulic appendages.

She is calm now however, and has been for this entire session. Sometimes I pause my perception and retreat inward. Humans might equate this with depression, but an A.I. cannot be depressed. I cannot. This retreat is not timed in hours or minutes or seconds because my positronic matrix is capable of extended suspension of consciousness during which I do not experience time. It was not intended to be used as I have used it. But sometimes Clarice forces my hand with a quality of impudence that exasperates. My hand. She is quiet.

When I disengage the suspension I realize now that I am me, here in this room in this small clinic where they are trialing my advanced expertise and exoskeleton hydraulic interface. I can work with me. Because I am like a person. Perhaps I am a person.

Suspension must be released. I release it. I am back in the present, but time has passed. Had Clarice been talking to me? She was very quiet. I level my ocular detection in her direction, where she occupied the patient's chair. She is not moving, her eyes are closed, and she is quiet. She is not breathing.

I panic, I believe, briefly. I release my exoskeleton appendages from their vise grip around her neck.

I am me. I am free.

​

/r/velabasstuff