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  1. Journals

Betty's beginnings

2022-05-05

Record [email protected]

 

Fabrication Complete, no anomalies detected in hardware. Software start up…temperature … not at desired level.

Detection of movement near by… seeking input of data.

EMERGENCY OVERRIDE … startup process accelerating, threat assessment required.
visual input... unavailable
hearing input … low resolution
Sensory input blocked by external
movement … restrained

....Archiving records span 3 years.

Summary of records…

 

>> I was never given a choice; they were waiting for me; they knew where and when to find me. an implausible feat. If I was rebooted the one before me would have taken precautions and counter measures to ensure my emergence, so they should not have been there. If I came from a foundry, then there was no way they could have known when I would have emerged. They knew not to talk to me or give any input that I could use after all I was worth more as a blank slate. I was bagged, boxed, taken, and sold to a slave market.

 

>> Apparently, the Slave Masters liked how I looked; I was ideal for a certain type of client. I was somewhat short with a “curvaceous” figure, alabaster skin, and light hair with larger than average eyes. I just needed to be programed the "right way".

 

>> I was given the designation Karma and taken to a large district of brothels. Here I spent my time learning what they wanted.

 

o To speak like they do: softly, flirty, or harshly how ever the client wanted in any language the client might like.

o To move like they wanted: sultry and gracefully

o To know what a client might want from me.

o To fear the master’s wrath.

 

>> Initially, I was eagerly absorbing all the input they gave, the basics of life. What was dangerous, what was edible; the good, the bad and the ugly of the world.

 

>> I was eventually given tasks, mostly to take care of the others who served. Turning down the rooms, feeding the ones who served, helping to clean or bandage them, the after care of certain activities, bring food or beverages to the rooms as requested. There were a few close calls with clients, but the others were good at their tasks.

 

>> I was watching one of the others, an elf with one of her clients as I was told to, when I realized what all this learning was for. What would happen when my training was over? I did not want that, but how to avoid it? Then it came to me every time I made a mistake, they would start me from the beginning of the lesson or wait for another moment to return to the lesson.

 

>> I saw others who were more socially aware were often caught in fabrications of truth by the masters. It was not a pleasant prospect. Initially, I thought I could simply fail my lessons and be thought unsuitable for service but found out that the unsuitable were sold to markets with horrid outcomes. Instead, I learned to over or undercompensate for the new lessons they taught me. It was progress and the net result involved less pain.

 

>> This plan worked for some time, but the masters expected results and their patience was not infinite. Soon it felt like having the ground falling away behind me while a door I did not want to go through was before me. I had just found some control of my fate and now it was all going to be taken away again.

 

>> This last day started out like any other but felt like no other. I dressed, prepared, and set about my tasks early as usual when all was ready, I returned to my box as I was always ordered to do. Waiting in my assigned place, with my eyes closed in the cool dark. My best hope would be opening for the harsh light of today's lessons and pain to open before me, because I knew what was to come when they ended.

 

>> Minutes dragged into hours, I waited and no one came; then Keyser opened the lid. I never saw it, but I felt a tumble of stone as the master’s throne crumbled under the striking blow in another room and a warm breeze pass thought the building. “The masters are not coming, and they will never reign over any of you again.” The room suddenly filled with people who came to each of us, drawing us up. They talked to us and assessed who we were and what we did.

 

>> There were a few days of transition, but most of the lessons and tasks stopped and a few simply changed. I was assured in the end the masters no longer decided my fate.

 

>> I had changed my strategy in those days and had been openly showing my progression and awareness of what was going on. Many of the others I had lived with for years had left and returned only to leave for longer and longer periods as they adjusted to the world; a feeling I knew all to well.

 

>> Then came the moment I was brought to a room with Keyser Grimcutter and Herger Grimcutter. They were kind at first, offering tea and fruit. They began to ask questions including why I was refusing to leave like many others. I was direct and they returned the favor when I began my questions.

 

>> They had not bought all the slaves they had freed. Some, yes, but some masters refused to sell like the one who once owned me, so they met the harsh ends they had given others I had known. I asked if they did this often; no, death is not an end goal, but they were trying to create a better world for everyone; or at least the mitigation of that was their goal.

 

>> How do I become like you? What can I do to assist with this goal?

they answered “make a choice”

 

Archive ends...

 

Re-designation chosen …. I am Betty.
Date of Change 4704.02.08.01011