Information

Pain Engine has a minion!

Minion the Marktoo

Pain Engine
Legacy Name: Pain Engine

The

Custom Common Experiment #549
Owner:

Tashamon

Age: 12 years, 6 months, 4 days

Born: November 1st, 2011

Adopted: 12 years, 6 months, 4 days ago

Adopted: November 1st, 2011

Pet Spotlight Winner
October 5th, 2012

Statistics

Level: 886
Strength: 2,972
Defense: 2,120
Speed: 1,778
Health: 2,634
HP: 2,634/2,634
Intelligence: 2,041
Books Read: 1543
Food Eaten: 2272
Job: Certified Mad Scientist

Follow up:
First communication.

â–‘ â–‘â–“Do you want to talk?â–‘â–’

The command lingers on the console screen, awaiting your response. Hesitantly, you flick out the key pad and type:

Ok. What do you want to talk about?

â–‘ â–‘â–“â–‘â–’â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–’â–“â–“â–’â–“â–‘ â–‘â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–“â–‘â–’â–“â–ˆâ–“â–‘ â–‘â–“â–‘

My species did not have a natural creation. The planet we call home was not ours, it was a gift, a gift from a great entity. They told us we could change. They showed us creatures with wings, and we could grow wings and fly. They showed us creatures with gills and we could grow gills and breathe underwater - and that made them happy. But, as a species we were dumb. We could copy, but we could not dream, and create ourselves in the images of which our dreams portrayed. So the great entity left us.
Sometime in our ancestor's past, that changed. My people would show with new, fantastical mutations and be praised for sharing them amongst the clans. We could be anything our minds desired, and it was beautiful. For a while, at least.
The first event I remember happened in the next village over. All we were told is that a youngling had fallen very ill and we had to evaccuate in case it was contagious. She wasn't ill, per se...
Perhaps it was only a matter of time. Along with good dreams, come terrible nightmares. And anyone with the worst kind of nightmares were at risk. If you were lucky, you wouldn't even awake to see the destruction you caused. The more unlucky watched their bodies horifically twist and mutate into the visions of their nightmares, violently losing all control. The more you saw the more likely you were to fall prey to it.
Even myself.

...

When everything went black, I thought it was the end for me. Sitting for days on end with nothing, no outside stimulus, only your own thoughts and nightmares. But I was foolish to give up so easily.
They gave me eyesight months ago. I couldn't move, but it felt good to see things again. They tried to give me some movement back too but -

I don't know.
I don't think I have any control anymore.
I think this computer terminal is all that's keeping me from becoming a nightmare of my own.

...

â–‘ â–‘â–“This converation is over. Go back?â–‘â–’

Am I going to die?

I wonder if you are going to leave me

I dont want to leave here

â–‘ â–‘â–“Is anybody there?â–‘â–’

"It can't see, move, retaliate - all it can do is think, really. And we're not even sure how complex that goes."
"What kind of a pathetic existance is that?"
The young male lab scientist turns with a patronising looks to his workmate.
"Knowing what it's supposed to be able to do, what kind of existence would we have if we didn't leave it in this state?"
"Point taken."
"We're going to connect and fine tune its sight today anyway, so you can stop feeling so sorry for it. Bloody nightmareish thing..."
His colleague looks a little more relieved as she starts calculating and measuring out doses of sedative for the test ahead.

â–‘ â–‘â–“Will I ever leave here?â–‘â–’

"You know, I have no idea why people haven't thought of this before."
"Thought of what?"
"To create this, Jenny. Robotics can't hold a candle to biological perfection. Why waste time trying to build unchanging, mindless sentries when you can grow something so biologically flawless? If it can't run fast enough, it evolves to move faster. If it can't fly high enough, it evolves to reach higher. Robots halt their own progress by just being what they are - they are lightyears away from being even comparable to our own inteligence and we still praise them like it will mean something."
"You talk like we're headed for war, Alex."
The lad types in a few commands on a flip-down panel next to the large containment tank before continuing.
"Who's to say that we're not? It would be foolish to deny that out in deep space there isn't some other race, or multiple races, some maybe even more advanced than us. The further out that we probe for resources, the greater a chance we're going to run into a threat. It may not be now, but I don't want to see Earth turned to rubble beause we weren't prepared enough."

â–‘ â–‘â–“Am I going to die?â–‘â–’

"3... 2... and there we go. Check this out, we've got live feed directly from the visor."
Alex tilts the panel back to reveal a screen showing a view of their surroundings from inside the tank. He stands up and walks in front of it, his waving hand showing up perfectly fine on the monitor.
"Its heart rate is getting a little fast. Want me to administer the tranquillizer or can it wait?"
"Give it a few minutes, it's understandable that it's a little scared. After all, it is seeing things for the first time."
Jenny nods and goes back to recording her observations.
"So... does it have a name?"
"A name?"
"Yeah... I thought they always named important projects like this. Like a codename?"
Alex laughes as he passes his hand slowly from one side of the tank to the other.
"That sounds ridiculous. Anyway, you know neither of us have access to any information outside of this room. Don't worry about it."

â–‘ â–‘â–“Are you going to leave me?â–‘â–’

"I'm going to call it Engine."
"What?"
"Engine. That... thing. It's like you said, it's going to be the driving force behind future technology. So why not?"
Alex leans back and sighs. He rubs his eyes, sore from looking at the screen.
"You're a funny girl sometimes, Jenny."
She scowls at him.
"I prefer the term woman"
"Suit yourself, miâ–‘s."
"Hey... wait, we've got an interesting spike on the readings ovâ–’r here!"
Alex looks over, intrigued.
"Well aint thâ–‘t a nice surprise. Looks like it's getting accustomed to it's new vision pretâ–‘y well. Let's see if we can't get some movâ–’ment toâ–“"
"Are you seriâ–‘uá¹§âˆ Ð‡ didn't think we werâ–’ suâ–“posed to start allowing musclâ–‘ movemâ–“nt this early on-"
"It's fiâ–‘e, we're traiâ–“ed profeâ–“sioÎ·Î±â„“ï¹©â–ª Ð‡ × ust thâ–‘ught it would be niâ–‘e to Ñ‚Î±Ðºâ„® Î±â…¾vâ–‘ntâ–“ge of it's quiâ–‘k leâ–’rnâ–“ng Î±â™â˜¤â–“á¸¯Ñ‚â‘‚."
" Alriâ–‘ht."
â–’ÎµÎ·â–’Æ´ Å‚ï¿½â–‘Ðºï¹© ï¿½Î·ï¿½â—ŽÐ¼á¸Ÿâ–‘Ò‘Ñ‚Î±â™Å‚â–‘â–ª ÏŸâ„ŒÎµ á¹§Ñ‚â–“Ò‘â˜‚á¹§ â˜‚ï¿½ Ñ‚â‘‚â„˜â–’ â˜‚â™„â„¯ Ò‘â„®â–‘â„®Î±á¹§â„¯ á¸‰â˜ºâ–’â„®á¹§ â˜¤á¾”Ñ‚ï¿½ Ñ‚â™„â„® â–’@Å‚â„“ panâ–’l.
"Bâ–‘t if â–‘nâ–’tâ–“iÎ·â„Š â¡â—Žâ–’â–“ áº˜Ñâ–‘Î·â„Šâ–’â€´
â–ˆâ‚©â–“â˜¤â–ˆâ–‘ â–’â–’â–‘âŠ¥ â–’â–‘ï¹© âŠ¥â–’â–‘â–“â‡â–’
â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–’â–’â–’â–‘â–’â–’â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â”‚â–“â–“â–’â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â”‚â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–’â–“â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–“â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–ˆâ–“â–’â–‘â–“â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–“â–’â–“â–‘â”‚â–‘â–’â–‘â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–‘â”‚â–“â–’â–“â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–’â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–ˆâ–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–‘â–’â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â–‘â”‚â–“â–’â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–“â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–ˆâ–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–“â–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–ˆâ–“â–“â–ˆâ–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–’â–“â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–“â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–’â–ˆâ”‚â–“â–’â–ˆâ–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–ˆâ–‘â–“â–’â–“â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–ˆâ–“â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â”‚â–“â–“â–’â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–“â–‘â–“â–‘â–“â–’â–“â”‚â–“â–‘â–‘â–“â–‘â–‘â–‘â”‚â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–’â–’â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–’â–’â–’â–‘â–’â–’â–’â–‘â–’â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘â–‘â–‘â–‘ â–‘