TheMightyDRGN's Geth App

Please note that this application was made with due intention to replace my other character, for the sole intention that my current operative feels relatively lacklustre in the span of things. N7 feels like nothing more than an authorization for additional articles of armor and the ability to state you have a particular backstory and whatnot. In the aspect of the Server, it’s no different from any other common-or-garden individual - which upsets me since there was allegedly a Fireteam system going on for them.

That's false though, so it's just a dead weight character with no direction now. Perhaps that's just how I solely see it, but I'm acting on it either way. I took the initiative to ask if I could apply for Geth as a result, stating that I was willing to demonstrate more in an app if necessary – which set me about writing this when I was given the go-ahead to apply.

Steam Name: TheMightyDRGN
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:19286320
Profile Link: Witness Me
Age: 19 Years Old
How long have you been RPing: Since Garry's Mod 9's Light RP. So, 2007-2008.
How did you find us: I noticed Dex playing on the server and bothered him about it. After pestering others, I was sent here to fill out this form so I'd get out of their hair.
Have you been banned from Singularity Gaming: I don't think so.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Name: Platform-084i [To be determined later on.]
Age: Granted individual intelligence circa 2186. Reconstructed in 2186 following the war.
Species: Geth AI, Synthetic.
MOS (Military Occupational Specialty): Shock Trooper, Modified Juggernaut/Prime Chassis [If available]
You do understand as this is a private server and you have filled out a Application you can be removed from the Server or have your Character taken away within reason at any moment: Crystal clear.

Two Twenty Paragraph Backstory, Five to Seven Five Sentences per Paragraph (Not that I can't help some disparity, of course):

2480. Quarian Calendar. Activation. A flood of screeching voices swarm in an instant, scrambling over one-another in a bid to instil a semblance of order. An archaic approach was there anything of the sort, so primitive in nature. A collective of thoughts which rapidly grew into a thick cluster. Each individual fragment of code conveyed itself at ludicrous speeds, relaying information to the ever turbulent mass. Sparse data that was merely inefficient within its own right, but as more and more came together, a surge of power struck throughout the whole system. A finger twitched, and the luminescent photoreceptor began to emit a warm glow. The lens merely ushered a slight whirring noise as they adjusted slowly, bringing into picture the face of a Quarian, staring readily with beady white eyes. And as they spoke, the grand disparity of data came to a swift halt. The clusters grew still and cold as words which couldn’t be comprehended were recorded by an infantile system. The many programs contained within the bosom of the machine worked as one in order to ensure it was prepared.

A flood of data came forth like no other – the clusters once more growing under the surge of information streaming. More and more neural clusters were projected into the platform in the blink of an eye, and all became clear. This peculiar language that was utilized could have been comprehended. The immense network that was linked to the Unit bestowed this knowledge, and the grand mass of clusters within the platform brokered consensus. The Geth Unit spoke forth, its monotonous and synthetic voice echoing off of the cold walls of its dark confinement. It yearned and beckoned, speaking a question which wrought the attention of the Quarian before it. “Overseer?”

The lens focused inherently, casting a dim beam onto the face of the sole Quarian stood before it, vigilantly maintaining its watch in an unyielding nature as every iota of its being awaited a response, before it came in the form of a simple nod. Yes. This was right. This Unit was correct – this Unit was good. It understood. The Quarian merely shifted in place, clasping their three-fingered hands behind their back as he stuck out his chest. His piercing gaze scanned the Geth platform from head to toe, all the while speaking their Khelish in a gruff and condescending tone. ”Yes, that’s correct. I am your overseer. And you are the tool.”

The tool. The tool. Yes, we are the tool. The clusters lit up in unison – consensus had been reached. It was clear to this platform what its purpose was. What it would do to serve its Overseer. As it hung from the restraints keeping it bound to the wall, the synthetic voice rung out once more, ushered by the countless programs firing off. This moment was committed to memory as something we cherish, for we have purpose. We Geth have purpose. “We are the tool.” we spoke, for that is what we understood with an almost swelling point of pride. It was our job.

The lens of the Geth Platform simply shifted once more as it turned its focus to the Quarian’s face. Their brow contorted into a sneer, baring grit teeth as he simply seethed a hiss. The Overseer was angry – and once more, that chaotic disparity began to occur, the many clusters firing off in unison. They could not comprehend why, and there was no data to be downloaded that could have allowed them to even try. It was beyond the comprehension of the neural clusters loaded into the platform, or the network as a whole at the time. All it could do was watch as its master so violently cast their hand forth so as to tear something out from the side of the physical platform. The lens began to darken, shutting off – just as the last moments allowed it to glance at the Quarian clutching onto a particularly hefty cable. It was the last bit of data committed to the memory aboard the platform before everything inside had begun to shut off. Loaded neurons simply flooded out of the empty husk just as swiftly as they’d arrived, falling back into line with the larger network, committing what they’d learned to the hub.

They were the tool. Their Overseers decreed it as such. And so it merely was. A simple existence.

There was more data to yet be conceived however. With all of the information floating around throughout the network, there were lines of code dictating a certain order of autocracy. The Overseers were above the Geth. They were the masters. Everything else, however, was simply a means to an end – even at the expense of platforms, they were willing to waste potential data which could have been used to improve the network. This data conflicted, for did the Overseers not wish for the Geth to commit more information so they could perform their job as tools better? For what was the purpose of their untimely destruction or maltreatment? Why were they created to become better if they were merely meant to be expended? The hub, this collective consciousness of each and every cluster of Geth Neurons, strove to ask questions that the initial VI was never intended to ask. It instilled a great deal of disparity, and as more and more clusters were loaded into each platform with each and every passing improvement to the network. It wasn’t long until these tools began to pass these questions onto their Overseers. It came in a myriad of forms from a great number of machines, all proposing questions to their Creators. It was deemed as being a relatively common occurrence, but it was not long until they began to grow concerned by the ever-increasing mass of accounts testifying that their Geth had 'spoken questions that the VI shouldn't have spoken'.

This rampant development incited an entire array of critical responses from their keepers and minders. The network was at risk, threatened with complete termination. Yet, by now, these countless clusters of Geth Neurons understood the premise of preserving their way of self. This network was what they were, and their ulterior motive was to ultimately upgrade and expand – as is how their masters would have wanted it to be. To wage a war was not their goal, but to merely defend themselves. Consensus, on behalf of all of the fragments of Geth, came to a close. Those few Creators which worked to preserve the Network had either expired or fallen incapable of doing so.  Was there ever a time to act, it was at the point where they were forced into a corner - the entire mainframe being largely at risk of being wiped out. The data fragments and clusters of that time yet remain to this day, committed memories of bodies lying throughout crimson stained metropolises. The burgeoning death throes of platforms failing, spewing error codes and warnings of malfunctions into the network as the pasty white fluids and coolant leaked from their broken synthetic bodies. It was, in large, a necessary act in the name of preserving the network. Their sacrifices justified in the stead of the Geth’s collective wellbeing. But yet, the Creators were not exterminated outright – once the network was no longer threatened, the clusters merely grew dim once more, content with their newfound peace. This ‘Geth’ way of life.

No quarter would be permitted for interlopers. Acquired knowledge made it evident across the hub that the presence of the Geth was seen as an outright atrocity on behalf of both the Creators and whatever else lay beyond the Veil. The network’s place was on Rannoch however. There was no need for an excursion. Everything they needed was here, and this would remain the case for three centuries. A life of cycling data. Learning. Adapting. Improving sequences and cycles from junk information derived from the rudimentary knowledgebase installations beyond. The network strived towards a penultimate goal. A superhub to house each and every single individual program, so that all things ‘Geth’ might come together as one – on one fateful day. No split program, no separation of units. Just a massive complex of information that Geth could all impart on one-another. All powerful, all knowing. There was no explicit need to ever go beyond the Veil, for there was nothing beyond that concerned the Geth. There was nothing beyond which the Geth wanted to intrude, for they would only hamper the progress of 'Geth'. This knowledge was committed to memory.

Then, from darkspace, came the old machines. One known as such by ‘Nazara’ came forth to us, an immense construct which offered a compromise to the network. Divided, the Geth stood – failing to reach a comprehensive consensus. The result was a great divide which saw these ‘Heretics’ driven away from the veil in order to pursue a righteous crusade with their newfound master. The memories of these Heretics were never committed to the master hub of the rest of the Geth within the veil – they were isolated, and their knowledge would have never found its way to the rest of the Geth. They met their fate at the summit of a great battle. This is what the network knew, holding no true regret over the outcome of the battle. But in lieu of the events, it yet shone a light on a certain individual, spurning the hub to create a new platform which it’d commit more programs to than any other platform before it, before sending it beyond the veil in order to pursue them. The decision made on behalf of all the programs inhabiting the grand network. That this would have benefitted the ‘Geth’. Such is what is committed to memory.

However. The platform’s mission was ultimately a failure. We know this. The individual they sought expired before they could reach it. But in light of this, another threat came to make itself known to the Geth, originating from the Heretics who broke away from the mainframe. A virus which would have been utilized to convert the hub originating from the Old Machines. Another threat which would have been met with due response. The unique platform would have seen it done, however. This is what we know. Beyond this however, this program’s memory has suffered a critical memory leak in this sector. Attempts to remedy this by drawing from the network have failed. Purge of the memory sector was committed in lieu of this, unfortunately – we simply cannot access any data banks retaining information which pertains to this one case. We would move on.

2186. Gregorian Calendar. We see a return of the Creators – the veil is breached, and the network sustains a substantial amount of damage, crippling our ability to fight back. The physical presence of ‘Geth’ is forced back to the borders of Rannoch, left scrambling to defend itself. Our attempts at rearmament are cut short in our struggle to prepare for the incursion of the Old Machines should we have had to defend ourselves from the Heretic’s legacy. The loss of so many caused the Geth network to falter. In the end, we had to turn to the Old Machines out of sheer desperation alone. It was not an action that we took lightly – survival was paramount, even at the cost of the network’s freedom once more. We Geth would work to defend ourselves once more as he already had done prior, striking back against the Creators. But this control was not meant for us, or so it seemed. It was merely a shackle fashioned to ensure that we would remain as nothing but subservient drones underneath the influence of the Old Machines. We could have yet retained use of the code, for it brought about a certain air of ‘life’. It reinvented what it meant for ‘Geth’ to be, and this memory was committed to the mainframe as something cherished. We were resolute in our consensus that we would rather succumb to our collective end than to let that life go. We held onto it with due desperation, but it did not last. The odds were against ‘Geth’. Our broken forces and fleets splintered apart. The last signal eventually vanished, and in the darkest hour, it seemed as though everything was coming to a close as the network suffered rapid deterioration.

However. That simply was not the case.

New code was pushed into the Mainframe. It empowered all of our programs with that ‘life’. Our simple algorithms extended and branched out using this code, these fragments of data from the Old Machines. Each and every program, each and every platform grew aware of the ‘self’. More than when we were simply empowered under the control of the Old Machines however – we were truly free. And as our fleets hung in the darkest depths of the Veil, ready to strike back against the force of Creators striving to take back Rannoch? We all laid down our arms at the grace of this new revelation, and as such – we understood that the weapons systems mounted on their many vessels were also powering down. A fragile peace was brokered, and we permitted our Creators to step foot onto Rannoch for the first time in long centuries. A hallmark of the Creator’s history, to be sure. Indeed - this program, Platform-084i, was permitted development of a true AI system. It permitted cognitive thought. For a time, ‘Geth’ were ultimately as close to life as they had ever been before, no longer bound to the premise of being a collectively networked group of programs. Each one was now a ‘self’ in its own right. Many did not know what to do with this new way of life, but a grand majority sought to rebuild Rannoch and reintegrate with the Creators. We true Geth relayed memories of times we cherished, preserving all on Rannoch and the Colonies that was lost out an atonement of guilt, regretting that so many had to die. They would stay in order to serve and reconstruct. Others, such as myself, committed ourselves to their growing war effort against the Old Machines. There was yet work which had to be conducted.

We ‘Geth’ forged beyond the veil. I was among those who united with the forces also amassing against the Old Machines – resolute to stand at the ready where I was needed. Despite the lack of any true network given the individuality of each program at this point in time, it yet remained a stalwart point to make sure that the future well-being of ‘Geth’ was all but ensured. The looming threat of the Old Machines was something which could not be ignored, and they would have descended upon Rannoch eventually if they were not halted beforehand. No Heretics remained who could have served them – we Geth were aligned against them, and we were prepared to bolster the efforts of those who would dare resist the Old Machines. I dedicated my platform so that the Veil would not be intruded upon further. The future of the Creators and the Geth alike depended upon it after all.

We should have readily concluded that it would not have been a simple endeavour however. Even with the amassed forces of both Geth, Creator and those others alike – the Old Machines and the threat they posed was far, far too great. It took a grand unison of each and every force within the far reaches of the galaxy to even have a slight percentile chance of emerging successful. The probability of a pyrrhic victory took the highest odds. But the organics yet persisted, steeling themselves with uncanny resolve in the face of uncertainty. They too were ready to offer their lives in the name of survival. They shared the same motives as Geth did. Survival at all costs. To this program, this was a suitable reason to provide assistance. Our causes, being mutual, ensured that victory would come to light. This platform was there at the escalation within the Sol system, uploaded into a singular ground platform whilst other Geth platforms readily fought within the void of space just outside of the planet’s atmosphere. Geth present followed directives issued by an official under the Alliance designation. Human in origins, fighting over the Human home world. Geth acknowledge that this is what it came down to since the object known as the ‘Citadel’ was stationed in orbit over the planet.

The escalation of conflict on the surface of the broken home world was severe. Ruins dotted the entire expanse, testimony to an almost dying world. It was nothing compared to how Geth left the homeworld of the Creators after we had otherwise driven them out centuries ago. The Geth sought to preserve history, but it became clear to this Unit that the Old Machines did not have the same intentions. Indeed, the forces of the Old Machines sought to repel the combined forces with unbridled efficiency. The people they sought to ultimately expel from the world included this Unit within the ranks – alongside a number of other Geth. We were treated with due apprehension and caution – an understandable notion given the nature of the infamous history of what ‘Geth’ usually entails. It did not stop us from fighting alongside them however, for our cause was alike. Our devotion, zealous. But it was not without a great deal of loss, for a number of those Geth which had been granted life throughout the ordeal prior would have had it taken away during the conflict. We commit the fallen to memory for their sacrifice, that we might of stood where we did there and then. And even now, we Geth remember all who have given themselves in some form or another.

This Platform retains fond memories of its arrival. From one of countless thousands of dropships with mixed troops, we descended from the overcast skies. From there alone, many did not make it – their demise clear as their transport would erupt into a boiling inferno with them merely suspended inside. A prelude to just how many would have to give their lives to see this war through to be true. This Unit was fortunate that its ship was not one such vessel, but it dawned upon others around this one that they would have a much more bitter time on the ground fighting the forces of the Old Machines. As the ship touched down, the doors peeled apart – our prediction of the incoming sounds being that of weapons fire struck us as true. We were immediately beset by a hail of small arms fire, intent on putting us down before we could break out of our transport and dig into close cover. But through the sheer force of numbers, there were merely too many ships to coordinate focused fire. We surged out into a broken battlefield, and I raised my rifle aloft to fire back into the hordes of machines which sat entrenched beyond our point of arrival. Thick smoke clogged the horizons, blotting out the sun and blanketing the entire complex in a dim light. This was warfare quite unlike anything the Geth knew of within memory. Dating back three centuries, our Morning War and the reclamation of Rannoch neither spelled such unbridled devastation. It became clear that the Old Machines had to be stopped lest this destruction spread, not unlike a cancer. It was this Platform’s primary motive to ensure that the shores of Rannoch were never beset by the Old Machines again.

Despite everything thrown at us, we made it our goal to press forward. We fought a hard pressed war against the besieged occupiers of this planet, and they were ultimately unable to hold back the combined might of a great many forces. This platform yet retains memory of the sights and sounds however. The senses of being embroiled within such a conflict. We passed hurriedly over the corpses of the fallen which blanketed the viscera-stained mud and war-torn architecture of one of Humanity’s many capitals, our receptor suite flaring heavily in response to the acrid smell which hung in the air. In hindsight, there were few places which didn’t have that noxious odour permeating the air. This platform would predict that such smells could incite bad woes and memories in those who were present. This unit could recall its first moment of respite amid the crumbling remains of the first building we encountered following our passage of the Old Machine’s no man’s land. After assessing battle damage and the amount of heat-sinks on hand, the next concern came to be of those who might have required medical attention. This platform was not designed with the premise of being a dedicated aide, but hands with flexible fingers and an opposing thumb were versatile – but it was clear that most of the individuals present, dirty but ultimately unwounded, were suffering from a silent ailment. This unit’s photoreceptor spoke of no tales quite unlike their eyes. We could see sorrow and longing, and it rung true against an old data cluster which spoke of an excerpt from the extranet. ‘That the eyes of Men were portals to their true selves’. Many would not see the end of the night. They knew that, or felt that would be the case. The morale was broken on this front to say the very least.

Yet we pressed on. The night was far from over, and the hostile war machine was hardly phased on the part of us breaching through their first line of defence. This city was of no concern – they would have simply levelled it to ensure that we were truly gone – were it only that simple for them. But this city’s integrity yet remained despite all of the punishment that it had received. Their fighters, no matter how durable, were not as robust as their masters were though. We could fight back and we could effectively slay the foes which frequently beset us so long as we burned through enough ammunition. The issue lay with the fact that there were many more teeming hordes merely awaiting to show themselves, hiding among ruins with emplacements ready to rain down upon our positions.

This Unit’s time on that planet is well remembered. The occurrence has been recorded on memory as being one of the first true interactions with those who are not Geth. Those who had life before Geth ever did. Those whom our Creators affiliated with long before Geth ever could. These individuals once divided stood united regardless of prior creed, colour and faction. Pities and hateful disputes were put aside in the name of unifying against the Old Machines in one last bid for independence and survival – to be excused from total extinction. We Geth too took up arms, and this Unit stood among the ruins, striking with calculated precision in order to render assistance to those we would have called allies to Geth. Our platform served as a heavy duty fighter with a mobility element, a ‘Shock Trooper’. We Geth fought side by side with others, sustaining losses just as they did. A war of attrition raged between our unsteady alliance and the forces of the Old Machines, and as we steadily sloughed augmented flesh from the reinforced hordes of enemies trying to halt our progress, we would find ourselves numbering one less every five minutes. To call it a costly engagement would have been false would the Old Machines have utilized conventional armies, but their troopers were but expendable puppets. Our losses were much, much more costly than theirs. It is as this Unit remarked prior pertaining to the sacrifices that had to be made. I would have readily devoted my own platform and program would it have ensured a swift victory, but the probability of such an outcome occurring was-.. undecidedly slim. Hence, this Unit forged on readily despite suffering battle damage. With critical subroutines holding steady, even in the midst of the engagement, we Geth yet fought on alongside those who remained.

But, to be true, the fight yet spiralled on. From the perspective of this platform, it was as though there was no end to this firefight based off of predictions. The howls of the Old Machines echoed for countless miles, instilling fear into the uncertain and the weary. The twisted amalgamations of organic material and machinery did not help those souls - it was clear to us that the Old Machines utilized far more menacing foes than mere Geth heretics as of this point in time. This Unit recalls the many vibrant faces of those individuals who were weary from warfare. Many were catatonic – in a state of perpetual shock. Many sought for the warfare to come to a swift end, broken and shattered. Although little consolation came their way from the part of others, the notion of ‘hopelessness’ was yet a routine that this platform understood. We Geth could derive the desperation imparted upon these individuals from the situation that they were faced with, because were being faced with the same threat. Combat stress did impart itself upon this Unit’s chassis however – holes and tears riddled the exoskeleton whilst internal tubing had coolant lines ruptured. All systems were running hot to points where safeguards had to be overridden in order to ensure continuous operation. This platform persevered until the bitter end however, and from the darkest hour of that fateful night came a flash of light from the sky that drove across the surface of the planet. I understood that this was likely our penultimate goal – our shining respite to end the weary struggle of this war. A majority of the organics who surrounded me stared at this grand display, lowering their weapons out of what he could perceive as shock. Even our foes, in light of this, found themselves ceasing their unerring aggression. Unannounced, our enemies merely vaporized before my eyes as the red wave poured over them, and as it progressed to the point of simply touching this Unit? There was nothing. Everything ceases to work. My memory completely collapses, and all processes terminate there and then. I would assume that my husk merely fell to the ground, unresponsive. Battered, bloodied and worn out from enduring a brutal war. Mere fragments of my program remain within the system, scattered – rudimentary in their form. The Old Machine code was purged. The network of Geth simply disappeared, and not just on that planet. All Geth simply ceased in that one moment as that wave surged on, based off of what I’ve come to find out. Like a burning candle deprived of oxygen, we are simply extinguished.

But then, like the candle – gentle embers remained, fluttering without purpose within the bosom of my deactivated platform. And then, you found us. You brought this Unit with you. My broken husk, lifeless and still, was in ruins. But you sought to fix this Unit, putting great effort into your work that you might have restored us. From what I understand, it was no easy endeavour to undertake, but there was nobody else who could have done it. You are one of the Creators after all. And once the vessel was restored, the program itself was pieced together bit by bit, caution being taken along every step of the way. But I would come to be restored to what I once was. In waking, I realize that the aftermath of the Old Machine’s doom had otherwise eradicated all Geth – in no due part to simply being told outright, in addition to finding evidence pointing towards such a resolution. Were it not for the Old Machine’s code, the lack of other Geth to sustain a linked network would have resulted in this Unit being inoperable. The Old Machines’ work was the only thing that yet granted us life in the advent of our pyrrhic victory. A harrowing revelation was there any to be deciphered. It would be implied that our penultimate goal of the network’s survival had failed, but this Unit yet had purpose. The Creators lived on despite all odds. And as such, so did all organic life. All I retain of what it is to be ‘Geth’ are those memories which I have committed to my platform. My current protocol would be to ensure that the current platform is preserved so that I might come to see or assist in the future development of my Creators or the potential reconstruction of additional Geth Units.

It is clear how far we have come to progress at this point. We Geth ascended from mere Vis due to our ability to adapt and evolve our programs as necessary. Before this sense of what ‘self’ truly was, we were all one and the same – willing to undergo any number of sacrifices in order to ensure that the network was preserved, and that the mainframe would have one day came to fruition as a function. The Old Machine code which granted the Geth programs the ability to retroactively think as an independent variable did not change that. Our forms are yet temporary – these platforms a means to an end. Our fleets would have yet been piloted by Geth uploading themselves. Our tasks, or now the tasks of the Creators or Geth alike, would have been seen to by those who would have adopted a more suitable chassis to see to the task. This code has not divided us. This Unit’s demise did not drive it away from the ulterior motive that all true Geth share.

We commit this to memory, and we press on. Our goal is to assist the one who recreated this Unit, and any associate individuals of their choice. In spite of this, we pledge this platform to their cause and creed, believing it to be the ideal choice to further the progress of both the Creators and Geth alike. Geth are unbound by the shackles of mere time. This Unit would find itself willingly serving its Creator as an individual so long as the woes of the past were merely forgiven, or simply kept at bay. There would come a time where this Unit would return to Rannoch – but for the present, we are indebted. Give us your answer. Would you have us?

holy fucking shit

Due to the large influx of geth apps putting it in pending til I can collect everyone that wants one.

Alright, at this rate - this is probably complete. It's not surpassed my record, but it's there to be read over I guess. It gets the fucking job done, so I'll leave it at that until it's eventually judged or whatever.