We can’t trust her.

Call’s doe like eyes scan over the tired predator’s face, her hand then being led up to hold Ripley’s cheek. She’s warm… So much unlike a cold blooded Xenomorph. And her words are so human… Which, at the end of a long day help to boost the auton’s self esteem. Something she struggles greatly with. “Oh… Ripley…” That oh so whiny voice Call always seems to have, hushed for once. “… … How is it that the hybrid I went to kill ended up being the one person I’d KILL FOR?” With a soft exhale, Annalee lifts her other hand to Ripley’s face and uses her thumbs to rub over her cheeks. “I really, really love you…” Again the auton breathes out, closing her eyes only after pressing a soft kiss to 8’s lips, giving a goofy, shy robot smile afterwards. “… … You know… For all the flirting you put me through, I think I like it now.” Call laughs, which is rare- and presses her forehead to Ripley’s, holding her lover in a safe embrace of sorts. “… I don’t see you as anything other then Ripley. My Ripley…”

‘Don’t turn around, Call. Don’t turn around.’ Call turns around, a sort of soft noise escaping her throat. Something about seeing 8 in a ‘human’ setting such as this is a little to much. And if it was possible, the tips of the robot’s ears are most certainly heating up just as her face is. “Need something?” Annalee stutters, trying to hold that snark that keeps her from completely falling apart. Not that it would do much for her. “…” Nothing but the silent noise of 8’s smirk sounds out, deafening to the auton who swallows thickly- the shirt she holds being fidgeted with before it’s then set down, the small and bare woman making her way over to the hybrid who gives a shit eating grin, followed by the blink of her dark eyes.

‘Fuck.’ Is all Call can manage to think, her expression most definitely giving away any and all thoughts she’s having. It’s not like she hasn’t been naked around Ripley before. Hell- feeling her skin makes the small woman feel as human as possible. But no. This is very different. This isn’t a simple ‘come sit with me.’ This was a call. A primal wave of the finger that says:

Let me do things to you.

And Annalee Call wouldn’t be one to deny her favorite hybrid. Even if for once it meant letting 8 once again see her submissive and vulnerable side. 8 being the only person in all the universe who Call would ever let see that side of her.

“Yes…?”

“   —   i  want  to…    make  love  to  you.   ”     8  could  have  made  that  real  awkward  by  saying  ‘fuck  you,’    still  slightly  awkward…    but  that’s  what  makes  them.    struggling  with  identity  that  wasn’t  human  and  ripley  being  tossed  around  in  memories  that  almost  feels  like  someone  else’s. 

ripley  stood  up  then,  that  towering  height  difference  so  much  more  permeating  when  she’s  suddenly  standing  right  in  front  of  call.    her  hand  reached  out,  but  it  didn’t  wrap  around  call’s  neck.    8  actually  cradled  call’s  jawline,  claws  just  delicately  pressing  into  call’s  skin.    ripley  leaned  down  and  absolutely  gathered  call’s  mouth  into  a  kiss,   that  wasn’t  even  messy –    it  was  surprisingly  passionate. 

Call can tell 8 is processing. Be that how the robot is feeling or something else, it doesn’t really matter. Ripley - Ellen always gets the same look in her eyes when she’s really thinking, and before Annalee can say something- their lips are connected. In a shockingly well calculated embrace of passion. A very human kiss. And once again Call’s face flushes; proving that yes in fact- autons can blush. And become turned on. “Ellen...” Annalee speaks the name so softly against Ripley’s lips, having pulled her mouth away for only that small second- lips returning to the tall woman’s.

Ellen Ripley. Last survivor of the Nostromo. And a damn good alien girlfriend.

As the hybrid cradles the robot’s face and trails her hand down her back, Call begins to explore 8 as well. Shyly sliding her hands across the tall woman’s clothed sides- rubbing them gently before shuddering. 8 is intimidating. Dominance drips from her. And something about her gentle touches is arousing beyond all belief.

Sex with a hybrid. One who was grown in a ‘fucking lab.’ So said Annalee who now stares at the apex predator with wide, doe eyes. Always so nervous and not at all around Ripley… That was her calling. Being a mess around 8. Especially right now. This being… What? Their second? Third time that they’ve actually had a moment to sit. Sleep? Well… Maybe for Ripley. Call doesn’t exactly need to ‘sleep’ per say, but it does feel nice and listening to Ellen’s heartbeat is a luxury. Though… The robot doesn’t necessarily have a choice. Sleep always including the routine of being smothered by 8’s impossibly long arms and legs. That damned woman. Tall and so fucking seductive.

Seductive… That’s the perfect word to describe what Call sees in her counterpart’s eyes right now. Perhaps in it’s flipped form of seduction. She’s seen it a few times. That spark of lust when 8 would grab her chin. Touch her thigh. Drag her claws down her neck… Those dark hues seeming trained solely on the tiny woman and her reactions. It’s no different now. On the bed they both share. Sheets tucked in neat hospital corners. “Right, so uh… If you could just. You know. Turn away while I change.” So modest. Something Call often wasn’t. Be it spitting curse words or getting a verbal jab in somewhere- modesty is something that doesn’t come naturally to the young auton.

But this is different. Being fucked through eye contact by the one being you want nothing more THEN to fuck you… Well it’s no wonder the slender bot is conflicted. “… Okay. So. I’m just going to go ahead and get undressed. You can… I don’t know. Whittle the bedpost with those daggers of yours or something.” There’s a part of Call that’s subconscious about her ‘skin’, not being human giving her worries from time to time, but as she stands and drops the dirty rags she wears, a sense of relief floods through her and she relaxes. Even autons know getting naked feels fantastic.

Shuddering at the feeling of 8’s eyes boring into her soul from behind- Call looks down at the floor and blushes- (yes, blushes) reaching for the clothing she’d stashed in a bag against the wall. “Didn’t know you were into robot ass.”

“   —   i  didn’t  know  either.   ”

there’s  a  claw  tapping  against  the  mug  in  her  hand.    the  walls  are  peeling  of  paint  behind  her,   there’s  that  awful  feeling  of  mold  somewhere.     they’ve  stayed  in  better  places,  but  nothing  has  been  quite  as  permanent  as  this  one  because  this  one  was  theirs.    they  found  it,   they  didn’t  rent  it –    the  nearest  town  is  quite  a  hike.    johner  and  vreiss  actually  wanted  to  stay  there  but  who  needs  the  clutter  of  people  when  Your  Person  isn’t  a  human.     that’s  the  understanding.

8  sets  the  mug  down  on  the  night  stand.     nothing  is  really  wood  anymore,   but  this  still  is.    it  looks  like  a  cabin  from  one  of  those  old  western  movies  she  remembers  from  somewhere.   that’s  definitely  ellen’s  memories  coming  back  painfully  slow.

‘Fuck.’ Is all Call can manage to think, her expression most definitely giving away any and all thoughts she’s having. It’s not like she hasn’t been naked around Ripley before. Hell- feeling her skin makes the small woman feel as human as possible. But no. This is very different. This isn’t a simple ‘come sit with me.’ This was a call. A primal wave of the finger that says:

Let me do things to you.

And Annalee Call wouldn’t be one to deny her favorite hybrid. Even if for once it meant letting 8 once again see her submissive and vulnerable side. 8 being the only person in all the universe who Call would ever let see that side of her.

Perhaps it’s cliche to say that Call’s brain is ‘scrambled’ upon being kissed by Ripley. The circuitry in her head going haywire. ‘Just like a human.’ That’s what she was meant to be… What she is. Human… And just like a human, several unclean thoughts go through her mind in response to what had just happened. Namely what it would feel like to have more then just Ripley’s lips pressed against her skin… Was Call programed for that? She didn’t know, but now she does.

“-“ Nothing but a hot breath escapes the tiny woman’s mouth when 8 pulls back. Wide doe eyes filled with want, uncertainty and shock all at the same time. Was… Was Ripley aware of what she’d just done? She always goes on about how she’s learning new things… Discovering how things work again… But… No. Of course she knew what she was doing. It was so perfectly executed… And fuck, if it didn’t shake the stubborn auton to her absolute core.

“- - I’ll be back soon.” Call finally speaks, tone of voice slightly higher in pitch and shakier then usual. She can still feel the drag of 8’s nails along her throat… The touch of her finger against the thin skin of her bottom lip. How well Ripley’s palm fit against her cheek… Ellen’s palm… “I promise.” And just like that, Annalee is off to infiltrate a top secret base full of xenomorphs. The kind that not to long ago had killed off countless people right before her eyes.

It’s tricky at first. Trying to figure out a way to sneak into the facility. Their secretive man had only lead Call so far. And - with how heavily guarded things are it’s not like she could just walk in. Or maybe- that’s exactly what she’d do. After a bit of playing dumb the robot gets her own private escort to whatever holding cell the men and women of Weyland-Yutani had planned for her. All she needs is a gun. A gun and some keys. That’s how she’d done things before. No one would think a tiny woman- let alone a tiny woman who was ‘dumb’ enough to wander into ‘top secret’ territory could be a threat. She was just a dumb punk who didn’t know what she was doing. Right? Wrong. This was her playground. Smuggling. These people are just her old mindset with shiny upgrades.

But therein lies the issue. Earth isn’t exactly a paradise right now, but those things are under tight security for a reason. If they get loose… If Call slips up… It could mean serious danger for anyone and everyone around. Destruction would be imminent. “Keep the little freak here.” Speaks the one of the men who’d taken her into the facility. Jokes on him. During the walk Call had gotten a look around. Took in the different halls and what they probably lead to. “Now wait just a minute-“ Speaks the auton putting on that signature troubled expression. “Did you just speak to me?” The same man from before scoffs, the gun Call so desperately needed being pointed at her face. If there’s one thing she can’t stand it’s men who think their dick is the most valuable thing on the planet. Next to their favorite toys of course. “No need to shoot. I was just wondering what you’ll plan on doing when these things inevitably escape and kill everyone in here.”

The man standing before Call looks taken aback. Dumbfounded. In utter disbelief. Just who is this little brat? “I’ll be taking that, jackass.” Mumbles the tiny bot- ripping the gun from the verbally dazed dimwit. “Move and I swear to God I’ll put 50 bullets in you. A better death then whatever these bugs can offer you.” Still in a state of disbelief, the soldier pauses. And thinks things over. Maybe he’s stupid. Maybe he’s brainwashed. But for whatever reason, he screams- and Call’s gun is fired a moment to late. She’d be scrap metal in no time.

‘Scream if you need me.’

The auton inhales. “RIPLEY!!!!!”

——–     IT’S  ONLY  IN  ELLEN’S  BACKGROUND :     the  ability  to  settle  down.   but  in  the  end –     ellen  &  8  really  aren’t  the  same  person.     clone  is  being  generous  because  no  matter  how  much  you  want  to :    you  can’t  bring  the  dead  back  to  life  ,  especially  when  they  died  A  CHARRED  ,  RUINED  MESS.      out  of  all  the  things  8  has  clearly  from  ellen’s  memories –    why  did  that  have  to  be  one ?      maybe  because  it  defined  ellen.     she  died  making  sure  these  creatures  couldn’t  get  into  the  hands  of  a  conglomerate  ,  money  hungry  and  corrupted  organization.     it’s  that  emotion  that’s  strongest  within  her.    that  one  last  fleeting  memory  of  ellen’s  and  8′s  clinging  to  it  for  dear  life.     the  xenomorphs  or  the  government  couldn’t  teach  her  how  to  love –  but  this  rowdy  band  of  mercenaries  did.     THE  DAMN  ROBOT  DID.     that’s  exactly  why  8′s  sprinting  down  the  hall.

“   HELLO  BOYS –   ”      8′s  gravelly  voice  was  only  accentuated  by  her  sarcastic  smirk.     it  probably  would  have  been  more  wise  to  go  for  the  guard  coming  to  his  senses  right  next  to  the  door :     he  could  easily  fire  on  8.     8  was  just  more  concerned  with  the  guard  trying  to  manhandle  call –     after  all  that  one’s  hers.     8′s  long  ,  sharp  fingers  come  up  ,  fingernails  digging  into  his  neck  and  grabbing  onto  him  tight.    she  pulls  backwards  and  then  pushes  ,  he  goes  flying  towards  the  wall  like  he  weighed  absolutely  nothing.     the  guard  that  had  made  an  appearance  by  the  door  swings  his  rifle  and  if  she  was  normal –    that  would  have  knocked  her  out.    instead  all  it  did  was  annoy  her.    brown  eyes  turn  ,  body  turns  and  the  man  looks  stunned.    CONFUSED.  8  also  grabs  him  by  the  neck.    he  drops  his  gun  in  surprise  ,  both  his  hands  coming  up  to  yank  and  scratch  at  her  skin.    go  ahead  ,  cut  her.    see  what  happens.    she  charges  forward  with  him  ,  slamming  his  back  into  the  door  console.    sparks  fly :    it  short  circuits.    that’s  what  happens  with  the  only  control  for  the  room  is  locked  inside.   it  seems  safe  until  A  HYBRID  AND  AN  AUTON  break  in.

“Right.” A fail safe. Or- no. Upon correction- Just kill the damn things. Those ugly bugs... The ones that Ripley had gifted her a tongue from. Gross. Doe eyes dart around the room, a gun in the auton’s hands as she begins her search for the apex predators. ‘Kill them. Those things are smart. I’m gonna have to either trap them somehow or blow their brains out...’

Somewhere along the way, between the shouting and gunfire- there’s a particularly alien sound, a sort of chatter mixed with a hiss. It has to be one of them. And with a deep, stunted breath, Call turns her head to make eye contact with a black shadow that matches up with exactly what she’d thought she’d heard. A xenomorph. One that seemed to be just as interested in Call as she is in it. “Fucker.” Mutters the tiny woman, bullets being fired into the beast’s side. In return it screams, darting up and onto the cell that had been holding it- thick globs of disgusting spit and acid like blood falling onto the ground below. Half a second later it lunges, Annalee just hardly missing the claws and jaws that would surely rip her system apart. “FUCK-“ Another round of bullets are let loose, this time seeming to do it a good amount of damage- staggering back slightly before Call is able to fully focus and blow it’s skull apart- green splattering the room. “Mm. Fantastic.”

One more to go. And it could be anywhere. Judging by the gaping hole in the holding cell opposite to her that is. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my day. Bug hunting.” With an agressive, confused eye roll- the auton in question wipes bits of sizzling blood from her slightly burned clothing- walking into the hole that would surely lead her to whatever disgusting layer that thing had probably already made by now.

Dark eyes scan over the predator’s face upon locking eyes with Ripley. Some what of a passive aggressive scold to God going through Call’s mind at the moment. ‘Christ she’s gorgeous.’

“Mm-” Comes the soft whimper from the auton’s throat, flinching ever so slightly at the sensation of smooth skin brushing against her cheek. Did 8 always have to be so damn seductive? Even when it’s unintentional… Ripley seems to have this… Way of making Call feel both welcomed and aroused. Not that in this particular instance it’s unintentional. She can never tell. Though- when being told she’s more human then most humans, something stirs deep inside of her and the small woman is nearly brought to tears, shaking her head lightly. “Oh… .. Ripley…” … “- Listen I.-“ The short woman pauses, seeming to stutter with unfocused eyes to match her speech. “You’re organic. I’m just worried.” The hand that holds Call’s own, though in a tightly held clasp- is then squeezed by the auton herself. Returning the grip Ripley seems to have. “I’ll be bait. If they’re working with aliens they can’t be all that bright.” A small forms on the doe eye’d woman’s face, this being a joke both because 8 is a hybrid and because Call herself isn’t human. Not physically at least.

“Shouldn’t be to hard to shut this operation down if I learn where everything is… But we’ll need a signal. I don’t know what yet, but you’ll know when you see it. Now let me go get myself into some trouble okay?” For a good few moments Call stares at Ripley, hand in hand. Only after just enough silence has passed, 8’s hand is lifted to the auton’s lips for a gentle kiss- brown eyes focused and true. “I’ll be fine.”

isn’t  it  weird  how  if  you  take  an  already  gorgeous  human  and  then  clone  them  making  them  a  hybrid  with  a  xenomorph  their  features  just  get  even  more  sharp  and  gorgeous ?      anything  8  does  is  never  really  unintentional.    she’s  always  fully  aware,  it’s  the  xenomorph  part  of  her.    a  predator,  through  and  through.    the  hyper awareness  won’t  go  away  unless  ellen  finds  a  way  to  be  more  prominent  in  her  mostly  xenomorph  dominated  veins.    it’s  call  that  always  brings  out  the  most  ellen  in  her.  like  right  now,  the  way  her  jaw  locks,  the  way  her  heart  suddenly  thumps.    she  still  has  that  seductive  smile  on  her  lips,  head  tilted :    but  she’s  being  affected.   the  call  for  normalcy,  for  romance. 

“   mm,   ”      is  this  half-focused  whisper  that  8  mutters.     the  hand  on  call’s  cheek  moves,  8′s  long  finger  tracing  over  call’s  bottom  lip.     her  free  hand  only  untangles  from  call’s  so  she  could  cradle  call’s  jawline.     it’s  automatic,  like  she  knew  how  to  do  this  all  along.    pressing  her  lips  against  call’s.

“-“ Nothing but a hot breath escapes the tiny woman’s mouth when 8 pulls back. Wide doe eyes filled with want, uncertainty and shock all at the same time. Was... Was Ripley aware of what she’d just done? She always goes on about how she’s learning new things... Discovering how things work again... But... No. Of course she knew what she was doing. It was so perfectly executed... And fuck, if it didn’t shake the stubborn auton to her absolute core.

“- - I’ll be back soon.” Call finally speaks, tone of voice slightly higher in pitch and shakier then usual. She can still feel the drag of 8’s nails along her throat... The touch of her finger against the thin skin of her bottom lip. How well Ripley’s palm fit against her cheek... Ellen’s palm... “I promise.” And just like that, Annalee is off to infiltrate a top secret base full of xenomorphs. The kind that not to long ago had killed off countless people right before her eyes.

It’s tricky at first. Trying to figure out a way to sneak into the facility. Their secretive man had only lead Call so far. And - with how heavily guarded things are it’s not like she could just walk in. Or maybe- that’s exactly what she’d do. After a bit of playing dumb the robot gets her own private escort to whatever holding cell the men and women of Weyland-Yutani had planned for her. All she needs is a gun. A gun and some keys. That’s how she’d done things before. No one would think a tiny woman- let alone a tiny woman who was ‘dumb’ enough to wander into ‘top secret’ territory could be a threat. She was just a dumb punk who didn’t know what she was doing. Right? Wrong. This was her playground. Smuggling. These people are just her old mindset with shiny upgrades.

But therein lies the issue. Earth isn’t exactly a paradise right now, but those things are under tight security for a reason. If they get loose... If Call slips up... It could mean serious danger for anyone and everyone around. Destruction would be eminant. “Keep the little freak here.” Speaks the one of the men who’d taken her into the facility. Jokes on him. During the walk Call had gotten a look around. Took in the diffrent halls and what they probably lead to. “Now wait just a minute-“ Speaks the auton putting on that signiture troubled expression. “Did you just speak to me?” The same man from before scoffs, the gun Call so desperately needed being pointed at her face. If there’s one thing she can’t stand it’s men who think their dick is the most valuable thing on the planet. Next to their favorite toys of course. “No need to shoot. I was just wondering what you’ll plan on doing when these things inevitably escape and kill everyone in here.”

The man standing before Call looks taken aback. Dumbdounded. In utter disbelief. Just who is this little brat? “I’ll be taking that, jackass.” Mumbles the tiny bot- ripping the gun from the verbaly dazed dimwhit. “Move and I swear to God I’ll put 50 bullets in you. A better death then whatever these bugs can offer you.” Still in a state of disbelief, the soilder pauses. And thinks things over. Maybe he’s stupid. Maybe he’s brainwashed. But for whatever reason, he screams- and Call’s gun is fired a moment to late. She’s be scrap metal in no time.

‘Scream if you need me.’

Normally a jest from 8 wouldn’t get under Call’s skin so much as she’s more then capable of dishing back a fitting response. However- her brain is more or less compromised at the moment due to the feeling of the tall woman’s hand finding and holding onto her own. “-“ Call even is at a loss for words for around five seconds as her eyes stay glued to the hand that holds hers. It shouldn’t effect her so much but by God it does.. “Give me strength..” She mumbles to no one in particular before whispering. “Listen- if those t h i n g s are being contained it’s going to be heavily fortified. We - we can’t just… Mosey on in. Look at you. You’re so tall. You’ll get spotted right away. Look at your nails- you- you talk like- some kind of snarky lizard! We’ll have to plan this out and- and - - - just… We’ll trail him and then from there cause a distraction or something.. You’re not completely invincible and also I don’t want to-“ Call pauses. “Let’s just go.”

“Mm-” Comes the soft whimper from the auton’s throat, flinching ever so slightly at the sensation of smooth skin brushing against her cheek. Did 8 always have to be so damn seductive? Even when it’s unintentional... Ripley seems to have this... Way of making Call feel both welcomed and aroused. Not that in this particular instance it’s unintentional. She can never tell. Though- when being told she’s more human then most humans, something stirs deep inside of her and the small woman is nearly brought to tears, shaking her head lightly. “Oh... .. Ripley...” ... “- Listen I.-“ The short woman pauses, seeming to stutter with unfocused eyes to match her speech. “You’re organic. I’m just worried.” The hand that holds Call’s own, though in a tightly held clasp- is then squeezed by the auton herself. Returning the grip Ripley seems to have. “I’ll be bait. If they’re working with aliens they can’t be all that bright.” A small forms on the doe eye’d woman’s face, this being a joke both because 8 is a hybrid and because Call herself isn’t human. Not physically at least.

Call’s own brows narrow as to oppose Ripley’s quirked ones. “What are you-“ Begins the small auton, her speech then interrupted by not just a hand resting on her wrist- but the point of 8’s slender finger. It’s next to nothing but Call has been around 8 enough to know she’s either mostly relaxed. Or not. And this is one of those strange in between moments that means something important must of come up. “What…? Them?” She mutters to the clone before directing her large doe eyes to the figure. It is strange. How different he is from everyone else. The atmosphere surrounding the bar not matching up to him in particular. And as soon as he’s out the door, so are they. Call not even having time to process the fact that having her arm felt up by Ripley does something to her. Even if it’s unintentional. Then again… Knowing 8… Is anything unintentional? “W-Wait just a minute- my legs aren’t long like yours.” Huffing, the smaller woman follows after 8 like the tough duckling she is.