Thought implies distinction between a thinker and an object of thought. There is an essential division between the contemplator and the contemplated
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[Thom is a dog, and he's seven - in human years. It's a little awkward being around naked Masters, but more along the lines of he's not certain he's wanted here. They usually got naked when they wanted alone time. But the command to leave is revoked, so...
Timidly he walks forwards, still on his rear paws, hands fidgeting. His ears perk up as the man with clothes on addresses him.]
Uh, no sir. I'm a - I'm a puppy myself.
[The puppy-cyborg thing coos, and Thom drops to all fours beside it. Gee it's wet. He promptly licks it to clean it off, and it laughs and burbles.]
[Motoko plays with the ends of his hair, winding the strands around her fingers. She's amused that he's the one with the existential angst this time.]
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One contains a dark-haired baby with light blue eyes, and the other...oh dear god that's horrible.
The normal-looking infant, however...]
It looks like...us.
[Her facial-recognition software confirms it. The baby's face is a mixture of her features and Ace's.
The infant under scrutiny coos and reaches up for her. She ignores it, flipping through other modes of vision.]
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Timidly he walks forwards, still on his rear paws, hands fidgeting. His ears perk up as the man with clothes on addresses him.]
Uh, no sir. I'm a - I'm a puppy myself.
[The puppy-cyborg thing coos, and Thom drops to all fours beside it. Gee it's wet. He promptly licks it to clean it off, and it laughs and burbles.]
Reply
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