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un: timaeusTestified | text | Birthday Boy
Turning 21 has been a completely underrated experience. I was expecting the blackout and loss of time. Even the warping to a new place isn't out of the realm of estimated probability.
But being genetically altered is a plot twist. I assume it is so we can fuck the monsters.
I call dibs on the raven dude.
cw: looots of kink/fetish/nsfw jokes/conversation going on in this here post.
But being genetically altered is a plot twist. I assume it is so we can fuck the monsters.
I call dibs on the raven dude.
cw: looots of kink/fetish/nsfw jokes/conversation going on in this here post.
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That's actually a good point. There might be more hope than previously anticipated.
I think so too. Do you mind if I ask the deets about your robot-self? If it's overly invasive, tell me to fuck off, but I've made robots my whole life and was raised by them. They are more familiar to me than other people. So I guess my point is if you are the kind of robot who needs mechanical assistance, I would be happy to see if I can help.
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Still haven't been able to find a proper mechanic. All right.
Well, the tech is from 10,000 years in my future, and it's integrated with a totally biological head. (Mine, not just one I have lying around.)
Metal body filled with wires and blood. Designed for combat and probably could stand to get tuned up at some point.
I stopped asking questions about how it works. It just kind of does.
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Cool, I'm from the future in my world, so that might be helpful. If not, I will figure it out. I have a combat robot with me here. You can stop by and we can check things out.
You have a biological head but nothing else? Does this mean you do not require food/water? Are you on some indefinite energy source?
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You seriously overestimate how much I understand about my own body.
[also, she does have a fission bomb heart, but she's really trying not to advertise that one as much anymore!]
For a while I probably didn't need food or anything like that.
Now I do again, on account of all the blood.
I try to just trust that all the little guys running my vital organs or whatever know what's going on and how to send the right signals up through my last remaining nerves.
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Okay, word, we'll check it out. It can't be that complicated.
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Hope you can't blame me for being a little gunshy.
You big into, like, inserting malevolent viruses into CPUs?
Turning robots into Bonzi Buddies screaming about hot milves in your area?
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I don't blame you. I probably wouldn't be thrilled to have someone cracking me open either.
Not really, actually. I prefer organic corruption to technical.
(That's one way to call yourself manipulative.)
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(It'll be fine. Better men than you have tried that whole organic corruption thing on me.)
(No offense.)
God, you pop this thing open and it's gonna make a sound like a video game chest.
Except the only thing inside is a picture of a cool sword.
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You act like a picture of a cool sword isn't a rewarding find. That would be sick. I hope that's what is in my chest.
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It'll definitely throw a wrench into our working relationship, though.
From everything you've told me so far, you've definitely got nothing but cool swords in there.
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That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever told me.
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It won't be a good experience for either of you.
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Is he hot though?
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I can just kick his ass instead.
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Let's do that instead.
He ever shows up here, we'll both go in on him together.