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Weyland-Yutani Family photo except:
- I’ve never seen a predator movie.
- I didn’t wanna draw Rook, he disquiets me.
- My Fassbenders don’t look alike. Nothing I can do about that.
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Would you still love me if I was a worm?
Summary: Another tiktok sound where you ask your partner to see how they would react or care for you. characters: Ash, Bishop, David-8, Kirsh and Walter-1 Tags: crack taken seriously, dumb silly idea hehe, establish relationship Taglist: @bonsoir-oiseau I hope this is the quality work you sign up for lol, Thank you, @benevolent-bonk , for reminding me to finish my drafts that's been rotting since last year. A/n: If you see the word hypothesis instead of hypothetical, no you didn't. Cause I would never confuse the two very different words up *sweats*
ASH
○ When asked this question, Ash is naturally going to be confused, but most importantly, disappointed. He's heard his share of dumb questions from the crew, mostly from Brett and Parker, that toe the line of being disrespectful. Or one of the others asks him to simplify his answer because they're too tired to understand, despite being scientists themselves. —You're the Navigation Officer, for God sakes, Lambert.— He dismisses your question with the same grace of a tired dad's silent judgement; it sounds like a sweet honey-coated compliment, but on second take has you deflating with an annoying whine: "Ash!"
Synthmas - Just my Programming
David 8, Walter 1, and Kirsh x Reader drabbles a/n: I know not many countries celebrate it, but I wish you a happy St. Nicholas Day!
David
You and Elizabeth were human - you forgot things, or simply did not think about them until they were brought up again. David, on the other hand, stored every detail he deemed important.
And David deemed almost everything that included you as important.
During the year aboard the Juggernaut, he had listened - truly listened. He memorised your stories, the small memories you shared in passing, the cultural customs of your childhoods.
Every word filed away with meticulous care, not wanting to lose even the smallest detail that made you into who you were today, that meant something to you.
Now, here on Paradise, the three of you had begun exploring the rites and celebrations of its inhabitants.
But David remembered the things you had told Elizabeth and him about St Nicholas’ Day.
How your mother would go out into the garden to get her big dirty boots, and how the two of you cleaned them together before placing one of them outside your room - to ‘trick’ the holy man who came at night to fill them with gifts.
Her boots had always been much larger than your tiny ones; they could hold more treats, more treasure.
David had seen the glimmer in your eyes as you spoke of it, heard the soft, nostalgic melancholy colouring your voice.
He rarely wore shoes here on Paradise; he preferred the ground beneath his feet - so he returned to the abandoned Juggernaut and retrieved something he had not touched in a long time: the old boots that belonged to his pressure suit.
He had planned this carefully - over the past days he had acquired a secret stash of treats from the market: nuts, fruits, small baked goods purchased without your knowledge, tucked away in places you never checked. Carving combs from polished wood, whittling tiny brooches to hold your garments in place.
Little gifts, thoughtful and devoted, arranged so that the boot was filled to its very brim, every millimetre used.
And when the two moons shone bright on the firmament and the settlement fell silent, David moved quietly like fog on little cat feet. One boot was placed gently in front of Elizabeth’s door; the other - with just a hint more care - in front of yours.
David had never experienced most celebrations. No birthday, no Christmas meant for him, no Easter egg hunt. But he cared and would not allow you to miss anything - not when he had the power to bring even a fragment of comfort to you.
Taking care of the crew was part of his programming, after all – even if you meant far more to him, and none of this was written into any protocol he had ever been given.
Walter
Self-grown and freshly ground wheat; butter he had churned, washed, and formed himself.
Origae-6 was a generous planet - rich soil, fresh water in the form of rivers and lakes that are perfect for building cabins and gardens.
Life prospered here. The colonists did, the animals did… and in his own unique way, Walter did too.
He had not been decommissioned the way Weyland-Yutani had intended - Daniels and you had been vehemently against it, and because of that, Walter had become part of the growing community. He helped wherever he could: building, teaching, tending, repairing - and now, on this crisp winter morning, he was baking a large batch of Christmas cookies.
Some doughs were mixed with ground nuts, others blended with melted chocolate. A few were prepared without eggs, others without gluten - every dietary need, every allergy, and every personal preference filed neatly within his memory banks.
Every colonist would find something made specifically with them in mind.
Many people stopped by throughout the afternoon, little hands reaching for the still-warm baked goods, drawn in by the rich aroma drifting through the settlement.
Walter pretended not to notice the quick, guilty footsteps as the children scampered away with their ‘stolen’ sugary treasures, laughter trailing behind them.
Most of the cookies were colourful - some frosted, some covered in sprinkles, others decorated with tiny sugary pearls. But off to the side, on a separate sheet, lay a batch set apart, untouched, plain cookies.
Shaped like stars, trees, tiny sheep, hearts - no sticky frosting, no glittering sugar - but still made with the same tender care.
And when you returned home to him and saw the plate set aside just for you, exactly how you liked them, your face lit up.
“You truly think of everything,” you said warmly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.
Walter inclined his head in that modest, almost shy way of his. “It is just my programming.”
You took a bite from one of the little stars and shook your head with a smile. “Sure it is.”
And to your delight, sweet Walter allowed himself a small smile in return - soft, fleeting, but undeniably real.
Kirsh
The ‘jolly’ season weighed heavily on you this year – there was no excited anticipation, no quiet contemplation, no comforting sense of calm.
Your duties were too important to leave, and when you worked for Prodigy, there was rarely a reason good enough to travel home.
Christmas certainly was not one of them - the company was your family now.
You practically lived on Neverland Island anyway. You had your own little apartment, everything you needed… but that did not stop you from missing your favourite, almost ancient Christmas ball, tucked away in an old cardboard box already falling apart from the years it had survived.
The facility was, of course, decorated luxuriously; Kavalier would not have it any other way. Colourful fairylights climbed along the ceilings, mistletoe under doorways, wreaths and garlands adorning the halls - cozy, warm, inviting.
But it did little to lift the heaviness that had settled within your bones.
That quiet, persistent ache of grief.
You became exhausted, your concentration dwindled, and you dragged yourself from room to room.
Kirsh noticed.
You slept less and grew restless; meals became small and insufficient. Your voice weakened, your laughter less loud, your smile faded far quicker than usual – none of it escaped him.
…Someone had to take care of you, and that someone was going to be him.
Boy Kavalier had struggled with his mental health since he was a child - forgetting his ADHD medication, slipping into bad episodes. Handling depressive humans was nothing new to him.
He recognised the signs, he recognised them in you.
One December day, he found you slumped in one of the common room’s chairs, eyes half-closed. You had confided in him before: always tired, yet never able to sleep at night.
Moving quietly, careful not to startle you, Kirsh held out a steaming mug of winter tea. Hibiscus, apple, cinnamon - the scent sweet and grounding.
“Here,” he said softly, his voice gentler than usual, almost tender. “It will help.”
You looked up, surprised, but accepted the warming cup into your cold hands. “Thank you… but you don’t-”
“Tsk. None of that. You will not do anyone any good in this state. It is simply my programming to make sure you won’t fall over.”
Defeated, you took a few sips of the delicious beverage - then your eyelids grew heavy again, sleep pulling at you.
Kirsh quietly took the tilting cup from you, setting it aside before draping a soft blanket over your front. He tucked the edges around you with a care that felt… personal.
Hours later, you woke to find him still sitting nearby, tablet in hand, eyes flicking up every so often to check on you. Ever watchful.
That was no programming. That was honest affection.
... I have nothing else to say.
Alien Covenant text post memes! Prometheus memes and a standalone David 8 one here
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... sketching David and Walter and I just noticed one thing in the alien franchise i don't remember seeing anyone mention before.
Synthetics that usually follow their programming blindly or in general try to harm humans are usually dressed in light colors - light blue for Ash, setting him apart from the Nostromo crew usual dark jackets, David usually in light grays, specially in the start of Prometheus, and is again in light grays t-shirt when telling Shaw about the "pregnancy" maybe in more scenes, Rook also light-blue remains of clothes.
Synthetics that have more of a personality or in general have a vision of protect humans are usually dressed in dark colors - Bishop in dark grey-blue (with Michael Bishop in a white-grey jacket over dark-blue shirt in Alien³), Call in black and dark-grey jacket, Walter in his black hoodie, Samuels in dark uniform (idk about Davis One in Rogue Incursion)
It remains with other synthetic characters, even if more nuanced:
Thia has a white jacket and black jumpsuit, the more she connects with Dek and "defective" she is, more the black jumpsuit appears. Tessa starts in black jumpsuit as is repaired and then goes full white jacket and pants.
Andy in a white turtleneck and a darker grey jacket, a bit lighter outside, a bit darker inside, and this fits WELL with how his programming is temporarily hijacked by WY.
Then we have Atom Eins and Kirsh.
Atom Eins is in a black suit with white shirt. When it's revealed he's synthetic, the black suit goes away and remains the white shirt.
Kirsh is in dark grey uniform, be overalls or pants and jacket, with black turtleneck underneath.
IF Alien Earth will keep such tendency, then I think we can say that Kirsh overall will have a pro-human personality in some way as the series progress.
(I didn't include the hybrids because they're not full synthetics)
Walter-1. Sacrificial lamb.
Between Bishop, David and Annalee, we have three artificial persons who see themselves as complete personalities. Intelligent, self-actualising individuals, genuine people in their own right. That's not to say anything of their humanity however.
I don't believe Bishop would consider himself to be human, nor aspire to or envy it in any way.
"I prefer the term, artificial person." He says, when Burke calls him a Synthetic.
Synthetic does imply a certain degree of falseness. A copy. Poor imitation of the true original. The implications of lying.
When we watch David don a spacesuit alongside the crew of the Prometheus, he's challenged about the effectiveness of it. Why bother? A Synthetic has no need to breathe, after all.
"I was designed like this because you are more comfortable interacting with your own kind. If I didn't wear a suit, it would defeat the purpose." David sneers, an air of cheerful superiority.
Perhaps Bishop finds some warmth in the term artificial. Meaning made by people. He acknowledges his parents, but like any child coming into their own personhood, develops his own identity. He is a new kind of person, dreamed into existence by mankind.
Bishop certainly entertains his comrades' delight in his unique traits. He is proud of his scientific ability, inspecting face hugger specimens. He recognises his ability to negate the xenomorphs sensory range, and readily volunteers himself at great risk for his crew.
Bishop enjoys and celebrates his identity as an Android. He still claims his identity as a person, but he isn't concerned with being a human creature.
Annalee, however, has been passing as human for some time. The crew of the Auriga only found out her true identity later, and it's clear that loss, being outed in a way, deeply upsets her. She wants to be human. To her, to be human and to be respected as a person are one and the same. She's ashamed of her abilities as an Android. I find it very sad in a way. It certainly doesn't help that biases are levelled against her by Auriga's crew, but idk much about that lore....
ALIEN RESURRECTION REALLY SUCKS OKAY
Cuz yeah I mean David is proud of being an android. But its a sinister, superior kind of pride. He thinks himself better than biological creatures, fleshy machines. He views that as the justification, his right, manifest destiny, to rule over them. He too seeks to create life, as those that created him. Does he feel some need to prove he's on the same level, perhaps?
David also talks down on a Synthetic's role, suggesting his brother is just a servant. Certainly reminiscent of how David was treated by his father Wayland, serving him tea as a way of putting David in his place when he acted out of hand. Always looked down on as less than.
Synthetic. A copy. Fake.
Like Bishop, Walter is a part of his crew. He often talks of duty in regard to his role and his mission aboard the Covenant. He sees things in clear simple terms. To be fair, Walter didn't really get a chance to show us much of who he was. Maybe he really was all programing underneath, seeing things in simple but sympathetic terms, kind of like a liquid latex filled Baymax.
Or maybe Walter did view himself as an individual, one that took his job seriously and with great pride. He could be argued to have expressed gratitude for humanity's role in his creation.
For Walter, it might have been an honour to watch generations of his colony grow up, help his community expand, a new life on a new world. And he would have had a sacred duty as part of that. Ah if only we got to see more of poor Walter...
