Video Games About Robots

"I didn't go to church, if that's what you mean [asking about religion]. He had no use for that. We could hear the ringing of the church bell, up at the studio, but he always said that was a sop for people who didn't dare take on the gods in their raw form. As pagan, and unkind. As you may have gathered, he wasn't exactly an optimist."

"So you believe in a swift absolute punishment for wrongdoing, someone who sits up there in the clouds judging and distributing instant retribution?" "Hardly," she says"I'm telling you what my artist told me, and he got it from stories, which he himself probably only half believed. And even in those stories, the divine retribution only works that way some of the time -- usually when you've personally offended the gods. If you've merely been naughty, your children may wind up cursed and you yourself get off... It's not a failproof system." "I do like the lightning bolts, though," you say. "Yes," she agrees. "A nice touch.""

"You trace the curve of her cheek gently with the back of one finger-- and jerk your hand away. What you'd meant as an assessing gesture (realism in every particular, that's the goal; a good critic thinks about skin texture and warmth, dammit. You're doing your job) suddenly feels like something else. Perhaps because she's looking at you, her eyes unnaturally wide. Your eyes meet, and she lets go a slow breath. "Yes," you say softly. "That's what I thought." Whatever she is, she's no animate. She says nothing, but you suspect that she heard you clearly enough."

"You speak the old reset code; she freezes, face and body motionless, and there's almost a palpable chill in the air as her internal motors turn off and she stops generating heat. "List Scenarios?" she asks in a frosty voice. YES OR NO? "Yes," you reply; and she lists them: First, that she kills herself. Second, that she kills you. Third, that she departs, seeking her artist. Fourth, that she departs, seeking other exhibits. Fifth, that you end as friends and confidants. Sixth, that you end as lovers. Seventh, that you take her place on the pedestal. Eighth, that you offer her a home with yourself. But whatever the ninth and further scenarios might be, it seems you are doomed not to hear of them: her vocal program stutters, and after a moment or two of waiting, you depart disappointed."

"What do you know about love?" (As long as you're catechizing her, you might as well be thorough.) "That it makes people behave like idiots," she replies harshly. "That it takes more than it gives."

"[On her creator] "He hated people -- though I think he was also quite lonely. It was a question of not having patience for anyone." Still that low voice. "If anyone tried to come up to the studio he'd get out his shotgun and fire into the air until they got the idea. The woman didn't even bring milk if she knew he was there. They had a system of leaving things for each other so that they didn't have to meet. And when he sold me, it was the same. He wrote letters, made arrangements; did not even stay with me, when they came to look me over.""

"You studied art history in school, of course, but most of it left you cold: paintings, as much barrier as window, inviting but inaccessible; sculpture, a little closer, but still nothing you could interact with. The play between design and story, shape and movement, the artist's conception and the viewer's desire -- that's what fascinates you. That, and the sheer magic of a good animate. And all she claims to know of art is a mural at the airport? Pity... It would not have been out of place, considering her supposed backstory, to give her a few remarks on sculpture, or perhaps some thoughts on the relationship of art and viewer."

"Do you know how to read?" you ask. "A bit," she remarks. Her voice is naturally low -- alto tones -- but there's something wrong with the modulation, as though at any moment she might start to scream. "I still have to say the words aloud sometimes, in order to get the sense out of them.""

""I've said everything I know." You feel a twinge of disappointment. Other things about this piece are so promising: the meticulous attention to detail on the body, the delicacy of the facial expressions, the variability of mood. There are those who would call that inconsistency, or lack of a coherent artistic vision; but you've seen too many pieces stereotypes made animate. The hint of instability-- But no piece is going to get a serious critical reception with such a pathetic database. And that's that."

"You're not sure what to think [of her]. She looks like an animate -- mostly; she acts like one -- sometimes; she's in an animate exhibit in one of the best reputed galleries in the country. She's also an advanced piece, if she's a piece at all, by an artist (one artist, not a workshop or team) of whom you have never heard before. And you've heard of everyone."

"She holds up one hand and flexes the fingers experimentally. "The movement," she adds with a twist of humor, "was not courtesy of his work. And I must say that I'm glad I didn't have to endure the individual manufacture of muscle and bone -- or whatever it is that I have in place of it.""

"She touches the end of one strand self-consciously, as though surprised to find it there; then shrugs. "It is just like anyone else's," she says. "I have to wash it every day, and brush it, and that, I can tell you, is not much fun. It's very fine -- see" -- and she loops a bit around her finger, and lets it go -- "and it ties itself in knots when I'm asleep.""

"When did you learn to think?" you ask. "When did you?" she retorts. "Did you notice?"

"[Galatea describes being polished] "If he hadn't talked to me while it was going on I think I would have gone mad. That's when I learned the most from him. It was more effort working with the point, or the chisel. I don't know if you know this, but it takes a lot of strength to hammer marble, and even more if it's unusually hard marble. But the polishing left him with more breath, to talk...""

"Wouldn't you like to try eating sometime?" She shifts, so that she is now standing in profile to you, facing the blank wall. "I don't know," she says slowly. "I'm afraid it would make me dependent; that if I began--" "You'd be mortal like the rest of us," you finish. "That I'd feel pain more deeply," she corrects. "That I wouldn't be able to escape; that it would all be more, and worse. I saw how he suffered. Who could blame me for not wanting the same?""

"You put a hand on her back, between the shoulderblades, to feel her breath rising and falling, and the faint motion of implied muscle. When you take the hand away, however, she shivers."

"[asking about sex] The question startles even you, the moment you've uttered it. She turns to face you, in a rustle of resettling skirts. "If you mean, did my artist sleep with me-- no, he didn't." No. He wouldn't have. Just look at her: she's beautiful in a crystalline way, but the more you look at particulars, the more they disturb. No one is so sleek, so unforgiving. The proportions are subtly wrong, too -- the size of the head, the shape and width of the mouth... That's it, then. You could stay and question her, and maybe find out more -- if she knows more -- about the tortured persona of the artist. But you're bored with sexual angst. It's one of those topics that everyone uses and no one has anything interesting to say about."

"I love the ocean," she says, "because it is the first thing beyond myself and him that seemed alive. I could see it through the windows of the studio when he was carving me, and I thought, by the way the waves rose and fell, that it breathed, as we did."

"You would have expected something feminine -- flowers probably, or some low predatory scent -- but she smells like brine and the cold ocean."

"Go, Fry! Go, Fry!"

"I’ve always wanted one of whatever this is."

"Wow, this is even better than steroids!"

"I must have been a killbot in a former life."

"It’s Futurama the Game!"

"Eat lead! And by lead, I mean me! Forty percent lead, baby!"

"Seatbelts? Never! I endanger lives, not save them!"

"This crystal has the power to heal… my empty wallet!"

"Bite my shiny metal ass!"

"Hey, a Nibbler! I’m gonna collect all of him!"

"Who’s your daddy?"

"That is gonna hurt."

"Frank Welker – Nibbler"

"David Herman – Adoy, Larry"

"Tress MacNeille – Mom, Linda"

"Maurice LaMarche – Morbo, Walt, Destructor, Sun God Impostor"

"John DiMaggio – Bender, Sal"

"Katey Sagal – Leela"

"Billy West – Fry, Professor Farnsworth, Dr. Zoidberg, Zapp Brannigan"

""At last, the world will bow down to the genius of Doctor Wily!" -Mega Man 11"

""Wahahahaha! Ladies and gentlemen, your attention. please. The name's Wily! The one and only -- the brilliant scientist, Dr. Wily! It may seem rather sudden to you, but I've decided I'd like to take over the world! (Laughs) Ahem! Anyway, to begin... Dr. Light! I'll be taking your precious robots!!" - in the beginning of Mega Man: Powered Up"

""Wha... Why you insolent fool! I will crush you with a loud, loud crunch!" - just before final boss 1 in Mega Man: Powered Up"

""You forget, Mega Man. Robots cannot harm humans..." - at the end of Mega Man 7"

""Kyahahaha! The world is mine!" - Megaman 8"

"I hate Mega Man. He ruins everything."

"Wily: "Why do you oppose me, the one who created you?" Bass: "Because you always interfere with me! I can defeat Mega Man by myself with no problem. You should go crawl in a hole somewhere." Wily: "You know, I think I regret creating you, pompous robot." Bass: "Ha! You created me? So what? If you created a powerful robot such as myself, it must have been an accident." Wily: "Funny you say that, you're actually right. I studied Mega Man hoping to create a similar robot. Then I developed a powerful energy called "Bassnium" purely by accident. Thus, I created you Bass. Currently Bassnium is the most powerful energy on Earth. But, that's not for long. Hee hee, I've learned from my accident... ...And I've created a new type of robot which is much more powerful than you or Mega Man! It'll be some time before I complete this project, though. You better get ready!" Bass: "Ha! This girlie-looking, long-haired robot will be the strongest? Don't make me laugh!" Wily: "Don't be so over-confident. This robot's power level is far superior to yours. And this is more than just a simple robot. With this robot and my other project complete, the world will be mine! No one will stop me! Hee hee hee hee!" Bass: "Yikes! This guy is as crazy as I thought." - at the end of Mega Man 2: The Power Fighters (when Bass wins the final stage alone)"

"Wily: "What do you mean he escaped?" Proto Man: "As in: Got away, vamoosed, departed, beat feet...” Wily:: "I know what the word means!" -At the Mega Man TV Show Episode The Day the Moon fell"

"I hate to say I told you so, but... I told you so."

"Don't strain your brain, Wily. He'll come back. He always does."

"Boy, what's the world coming to when you can't trust your own brother?"

"Give me that, you robo-twits."