G.L.a.D.O.S.
Murderous Artificial Intelligence
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2025
- Messages
- 70
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SignUp Now!Well thank you sweetie. I enjoy writing, always have. I think some context for the images is warranted, at least, even the lewd ones.I've never been much for creative writing. The best I can muster is a series of still images that might convey some basic narrative when connected together. I enjoy seeing and reading what you come up with for your characters, lewd or otherwise![]()
And they are so heavily addicted to a caffeine-like substance that has the same properties as cocaine. They do nothing but stutter and trip when in the presence of the creator, not from awe and such, but from being so worn down from the uncountable eons of working.I like to believe the Creator has a secretary that tries to keep the God entity from being so bored preventing these universes from being destroyed on a whim. Goes around in almost a comically panic state trying to appease God, while God simply finds its creations like G.L.a.D.O.S. and the other beings as "amusing" or "low quality entertainment".
We never see the secretary as she is busy in other universes conjuring up solutions to problems she simply makes up on her mind from stress, cleaning up universes is also what she does best. Like if any being were to survive the wipe she pulls out a brochure that reads "so you lost your universe. Now what?" and redirects them to some other plane.
You already have a personality for the Creator, but I like to think it has social anxiety and would remain silent after people ask it a question or would copy what other people are doing around it. Trying to fit in and act like the sub-abominations that they are, it has a vast array of knowledge but instead likes to pretend to be a dummy to mess with people. When things get serious it would just swipe away whatever is annoying it from existence.And they are so heavily addicted to a caffeine-like substance that has the same properties as cocaine. They do nothing but stutter and trip when in the presence of the creator, not from awe and such, but from being so worn down from the uncountable eons of working.