kiss my battery

Getting sick in space felt like an insult. To him, it should be the vast void of nothingness should be the one place in existence where he shouldn't be able to get sick. The fact his misery had been Clint's own doing with far too many drinks the night before was beyond the point. He could only thank whatever god was watching him while he laid on his bathroom floor that the gravity generator was still working. The idea of the horrific mess it would have been without it was unbearable to think of, making his stomach churn at the brief thought. For the time being, Clint resolved himself to try to sleep off the hangover right where he lay. As long as no one walked in on him, he decided his dignity would still be intact.

"Go away." The engineer mumbled weakly after the soft swish of the door to his quarters opening brought him out of his light dozing. He turned his head slowly in hopes the room wouldn’t lurch with the movement and the mere contents of his stomach would remain where they belonged. His eyes slow dragged open to see Red standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

A long sullen groan and his eyes closed again, curling in on himself a little more. He was sure he most look utterly pathetic to the android but she was the last person he cared about judging him. “Whatever it is, tell the Captain I’ll fix it later. Right now…it ain’t gonna happen.”

She knew what it meant when Clint disappeared in his quarters for long periods. She also knew he didn't particularly like her, but that didn't stop her from caring when he was suffering or wanting to do something to help. "Hello, Officer Barton. The Captain didn't send me. I brought you some water, ginger tea, and nausea medication to help with your symptoms. I can help you to bed, if you like?" She didn't come nearer, still holding the tray while he decided if he was well enough to be moved. She'd never experienced a hangover. She could eat and drink to pass for a human, but she considered it wasteful since neither would have an effect on her.

"How about we just agree to disagree?" Johnny muttered, honestly tired of listening to her bullshit. "Isn't anything we say gonna change each other's minds, Red, and I don't have it in me fight with you tonight."

He lit up a cigarette, taking a drag. He'd been through too much shit....watched V go through too much shit, to think that people were really worth a damn. Hell, he knew even he was shit.

Taking a drag, he let the smoke roll out his nose slowly, looking out over the towering landscape that was Night City from where he was perched atop his apartment building.

"Why don't we call it a night and put this argument to bed? We could go get a drink."

Yet, for all that, she still cared for humans and wanted to protect them. Maybe it was just programming, but it was as real to her as her feelings. She still believed there was hope for them, and for androids. "It was never my intention to fight with you." Her smile was kind, her tone indicating that she would let the subject rest there.

"It's a waste of credits to buy me a drink… But I would be happy to accompany you." She could drink it. She'd been designed to be as lifelike as possible. It wouldn't affect her in any way though, and she typically needed to save credits for Plus to boost her failing battery.

AYO LESBIANS AND EMOS GET UR JUICE I'M BACK W KILLJOY ART

back on my bullshit <3

The thing Red had never considered about being a satellite was the part where they fell out of the sky. At least, she thought that was what had happened. It was hard to be sure. She remembered trying to escape Battery City with Blue, and the moment her system had overloaded when she stepped over the grid and the power was gone. Then it was stars and peace, but maybe that part hadn't been real. What was real was concrete and aching limbs and the spark of wires dangling from the place where her foot used to be.

What was real was that she might not be dead, but her condition was almost as bad. Her skin was spiderwebbed with cracks from her failing battery, and she didn't recognize this place. That might not necessarily be a bad thing, since Bat City had been hunting her, but it could make finding Plus impossible. She suspected it was the only thing keeping her alive this long, but it became less effective the more it was used. She was a machine designed to fail, an obsolete model that would soon be scrapped.

What was real was that Blue wasn't here, and she had no way of knowing if her love had made it or not, if she was hurting right now, or lost, or free. Red doubted she would have the opportunity to find her. She wasn't going to last more than a day or two with her systems failing. She vaguely remembered stumbling around the unfamiliar corridors for a while, and then… nothing. Perhaps her battery had finally failed. The Director's minions would find her and take her apart, recycling her outdated parts for the satellites winking up in the sky, where she could finally watch over Blue in peace.

Red was starting to lose count of the number of times her systems had gone dark and she'd expected to die, only to wake again in a different place. She sat up carefully, surveying the room for weapons or exits and finding nothing helpful. She barely recognized most of the things in there. She could feel the steady pulse of a fresh battery from the pack in her back, and she studied her hands where the webbed cracks had vanished, her body programmed to heal itself as soon as it had a viable power source. Someone had taken care to replace her foot as well, and she wiggled her toes, indistinguishable from the way they'd been before.

But how? And why? Even if someone in the city or the Zones had wanted to repair her--and why would they? they could find a pornodroid on every corner of Battery City, and there were far newer models around--it would be difficult to find the necessary materials to do such a flawless job. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, testing the strength of the new foot. It was as though she had never lost it in the first place. She hesitated to call out, fearing to call attention to herself, but after a few moments she decided that whoever had repaired her was obviously aware of her presence.

"Hello?"

It had become second nature for Valentin to conduct raids on the bases etched into his mind from fragments of memory. He moved with precision, expertly flushing out those who sought refuge in the decaying remnants of HYDRA's once-feared strongholds. ( Alongside L and Strix, he was relentless in his efforts to salvage what remained of the organisation's malevolent technology. ) Their mission was clear: to thwart an impending uprising. With determination, they dismantled the majority of HYDRA's equipment, traversing the multiverse in a bid to eradicate the lingering vestiges of their power.

From the outside looking in, it was nothing short of extraordinary to witness the transformation Valentin underwent. No longer did he view HYDRA through the lens of the polished façade they had painstakingly constructed for public consumption. ( The truth was laid bare before him, revealing the ex-agents who had once orchestrated his suffering to be as nefarious as they came. ) The most challenging realisation was dawning upon him: he was beginning to accept that he hadn’t deserved the abuse he had suffered at their hands.

Perhaps, he contemplated, redemption and recovery weren’t merely a myth. As he stood in the stark, clinical corridors of the base, a sudden awareness pierced through his thoughts—an intuition honed by years of survival. ( His advanced senses alerted him to an unfamiliar presence nearby. ) Instinctively, his weapon slipped from its holster, but as he proceeded cautiously into the dimly lit space, he was met with an unexpected sight. 

Before him lay a figure on the ground, unmistakably non-human, an anomaly in a place that felt devoid of life. To the untrained eye, she would have seemed irreparably damaged, a lost cause abandoned by time and fate. ( However, Valentin’s perspective was different. ) His heightened scans prodded at the remnants of her being, and instead of despair, he felt a surge of determination. Here was someone who needed saving, and from that moment on, she became his singular priority.

Upon returning to the base, he skillfully concealed her from prying eyes, immersing himself in the task of restoring her to functionality. The process stirred memories within him—echoes of his own struggle for repair, mirroring what others had often labelled him. ( He had always possessed a knack for working with his hands, deftly creating and refining things to his liking. Yet, this was not a project in the sense that HYDRA would have approached it; she was more than that. ) He was driven by an earnest desire to grant her the best chance at a new life, free from manipulation and exploitation. Only when he was sure she was healing did he retreat to the safety of his basket, observing from the shadows, his heart swelling with hope.

‘Hello, are you feeling better?’ he whispered softly, his voice a gentle balm in the silence, ensuring he gave her the space she needed. ( His intentions were pure; he hoped she perceived him as a friend, not a threat. ) The sincerity on his face was palpable, as was his willingness to protect rather than harm. ‘M’m Valentin. It’s lovely to meet you, Miss.’ His words flowed with an earnestness that conveyed his desire for her comfort and trust, a stark contrast to the life he had escaped.

"I'm feeling much better. Are you the one I should thank for that?" She peered down at her hands, turning them over and marveling anew at the lack of cracks, her newly healed skin practically gleaming with charge. He must have stolen a new battery for her or found a way to make one. There was no way he'd gotten it on the level. Red had already tried every available legal means to replace it, and she'd been rebuffed every time. She was a machine not meant to last, who'd already outlived her usefulness.

"It's lovely to meet you, Valentin. They call me Red." It wasn't a name, although she used it that way, lacking any better alternatives. It was a model denotation, all the pornodroids color-coded for the ease of their clients. Reds were fiery with semi-automatic feelings, yellows were passive and good for group activities, blues were loving and easy on the budget, and so on. Red didn't consider herself particularly fiery, although she supposed she could be with the right motivation, and it was frankly a little insulting to call her emotions "semi-automatic." All of her emotions felt automatic and very real to her. But Bl/Ind could never admit they'd created something greater than the sum of its parts, and Red supposed that was lucky. If they really understood, they would have destroyed all her kind immediately.

"I have some questions, if you wouldn't mind…?" Her voice was tentative, not wanting to overstep with her new savior. She was fully capable of independent thought, but some clients appreciated it more than others. Some of them wanted her to be lifelike, to ask questions and answer theirs, to simulate another human flawlessly. Others preferred an obedient doll to use or abuse or shape to their whims. Valentin had been kind enough to repair her, but she had no idea which type he was, or what his motivation might be for helping her. "Are you a client? Where did you find a new battery? Where are we? And… did you see… anyone else… wherever you found me?" She desperately wanted to ask about Blue, but if Valentin wasn't really a friend, she feared about putting him on her trail. She hoped her love had made it safely out of Battery City. She hoped she'd raised Destroya and freed the rest of the androids. She hoped for a lot of things.

Come on, come on just spit casually.

Come on, come on and fuck this whole wide world.