Clair De Lune

one-of-a-kind Supreme Machine made for killing

kills in style because they have Class

is sometimes a little dramatic

deployed in peacetime for presumably peacekeeping purposes

probably a bad idea considering mankind is dead by the start of the game

descends into hell in search of blood

their directives post humanity’s extinction are summed up as follows: MANKIND IS DEAD BLOOD IS FUEL HELL IS FULL

“Fuck off.”

     …It’s a two-word condensation of what he was trying to say earlier, in apparently too many words for V2. Surely the newer V-Model prototype was smarter than it was letting on. Or did this one solely rely on brute strength and steel physique to get through life? Either way, what an incredibly annoying first impression for it to make. Weren’t robots supposed to make human life easier?

     Fifteen briefly imagines himself jamming chopsticks into the other’s optic socket and tearing it out from them, but in reality resumes attending to his bowl of food. No need to use real precognition for stress relief when he’s feeling imaginative enough.

“Almost mistook you for the other ‘bot, covered in that blood you both seem to covet.”

     He refills his cup of tea before tilting the lid of the ceramic kettle ajar. The NULL could imagine, though, that any waiter would be hesitant to approach until the tension in the air settled. Using his chopsticks, Fifteen pushes an empty dim sum basket toward the edge of the table. Still hungry for more.

“That arm of his is yours, isn’t it?”

     There was a green one, too—one that matched the same one V2 had attached. Without knowing of Whiplash’s origins, he can only assume that implicates some V3 yet unseen. Maybe that one knows not to throw a hissy fit in a restaurant for humans.

it couldnt help throwing it’s weight around, sometimes. it was too fun to watch people squirm under it’s gaze, a habit leftover from before the extinction of humanity. this human was definitely unlike the others though, exhibiting bravado- no, utter confidence in their own skills, to talk to it like that. a good sign, it needed a creature with sufficient combat capability for what it had in mind. pulling out it’s phone, it fumbles with the keys, trying to hammer out a quick message before pausing at the mention of it’s sibling. so he has seen him around, that might imply proximity, it could also be in passing but with luck it should be the former. it returns to tapping at the phone, wings folded up neatly, allowing a server access to their table, should they be so needlessly brave.

that gesture soon becomes completely meaningless as their wings seem to fan back out, no muscles to tense, no facial features to be read, so the ones that made it gave an obvious tell to other humans when it was not safe to approach. it looks up at him slowly at the- observation? no. it was definitely a jab. this human’s pushing his luck. nevermind that it had just been doing the same thing, trying his patience.

“Buh– !”

What is– they have to rub their face and pause for a sneeze in order to finally clear out their nose and throat. Shimmers of iridescent slowly reveal their hovering form, eyes blinking to try and see past the mist of colour. V2 and the wizard’s forms begin to clear, and Ori blinks, eyes looking from one figure to the other. They’re about to wave an awkward hello when–

“… ??!”

Hey! Ori stumbles forward, a pair of newly-donned fairy wings trying to disrupt their trotting by picking them up into the air. The light spirit stretches to stand their full height, still nowhere near matching V2. Still, they’ve positioned themselves between them and the wizard.

“Vitu.” a single name. Unhappy eyes stare up at V2′s single golden optic - their face communicates a simple request to not do what they did again. At least it was a simple slap, and not a railcannon explosion.

The light spirit glances the V-Model machine up and down, then the wizard, then their … wings. Then the bedroom. Ori’s pupils wander back to the machine. Is this their bedroom?

the little light spirit knows it’s designation, have they met before? they could have read the label on it’s chest, but most people are often more interested in the big yellow optic of a killing machine bearing down on them rather than look at it’s chest.

what an odd creature, the threat profile said nothing of wings. it seems to be new to this ‘Ori’ as well, judging by it’s unfamiliarity with it. humorously, they seem to be trying to protect?? the wizard character, who starts talking again. “oh great light spirit, long has your arrival been.. long awaited, we beseech thee, assist the hero in their many perils, they may save the world, but only you can save them!!”

     Jesus christ. Who the hell builds a bloodsucking robot with a retractable proboscis? The blue one was equally bloodthirsty, but it didn’t have that going on. Hard not to gawk at, but Fifteen manages to mind his business because he’s hungry, and even freaky robot-alien mechanisms won’t so much as dent his appetite.

“For fucks sake,” he mutters through a mouthful, just hearing the clamor from the back. Can’t a guy even enjoy a single goddamn meal in a restaurant without some otherworldly creature fucking it up for him?      Screw the “unflinching steel”, he’s now too grumpy to care about some other asshole having a temper tantrum in a restaurant. Fifteen glances back and moves his hand dismissively, chopsticks still held. Tough shit. Piss off.

     When it’s clear V2 is going to continue their approach regardless, the NULL swallows another mouthful down just to spite it. He rests his chin in the other palm, bowl protected between his propped-up elbows.

“You’re telling me you don’t have 20 Dust for a gallon of pig blood?” he asks, “Or bus fare for the nearest slaughterhouse?” He laughs once—a humorless huff of air.

“Go out and kill something.” It’s free, and pretty good stress relief, just in case the other offers were too expensive for a war machine who never had to worry about taxes until now.

“I’ll even pick up your tab. Just leave this place alone. I’m not going to get better pork siomai anywhere else.” And I’m not letting a robot fuck that up for me.

V2 stops just shy of the table, their optic kept on the bowl as they loom over the human. truth be told, they werent low on fuel in the slightest. theyd just wanted to see how such a fierce looking human would react. the way his shoulders were hunched, his feet carefully planted to fire out of the chair at a moments notice and his eyes having sized them up momentarily when their orders had mixed up. it spoke of a seasoned killer. of a human worth the time it took to kill them. of course, it’s no use fighting someone like that now. he was new here, a neighbour some doors down, they believed. there would be no point to quashing the salmon before it can ascend the waterfall. it was simply entertaining to make them squirm. it sits before him, optic fixated still on the bowl still, listening to him fire off suggestions of blood procurement they have already thought of (though not yet explored.) only at his suggestion of going out to kill something do they look up at him, tilting their head just slightly as if to ask a question.

With anyone else it would have bothered her. There’s only a handful of people she didn’t mind watching her at work. LE10, Nero, Corvus, and another. But he’s not here anymore. That kid left just moments ago. Recently. 

When the machine turns its head, Deborah scoffs and shakes her own and goes back to work. “Do what you want. I don’t mind if you watch. You can even take a seat if ya want. If that’s…I don’t know comfortable for you.” 

“I don’t know if he’s around, but LE10 may be in the store too. He’s a tiny robot. If you can find him.”

comfortable? for a mechanic who’s supposed to know machines, she sure treats it as anything but. is this what humans would call pack bonding? it’s quick to brush it off as yet another human fallacy at first, but then remembers a recent conversation warning of looking down on humans so quickly.

after all, if not for this mechanic or the person who’d sold them the hatchet, they’d be short a usable weapon. despite the ultimate fate of humanity back home, it couldn’t be denied that they did hold some kind of untold strength when they were alive. strength it’d be smart to make use of.

Oh. OF course. She can’t blame him for what happened. It’s almost comedic though. With the hatchet now she starts working immediately. She’s already having everything mapped out in her head of how she wants the hatchet to look. Hopefully it’s something V2 will appreciate. Hold on though. She comes to a stop and looks up at the machine. 

“….You plan on just waiting here? It may take me a minute.” Not that she’d mind IF V2 chose to stay. 

tucking away the flip phone into a small hip pouch, they continue their staring until she poses the question. Are they going to keep standing there? it isnt like they have patience to wear thin. no outstanding matters to complete, they don’t fidget, or pace, though perhaps the mechanic is of the sort to resent people watching when they work?

The cellphone, got it. She nods and she’s going straight to work with the small device at hand.  Good thing it’s just a cellphone, too. It’s a quick and easy process for her to fix whatever is broken inside and then the screen. 

“Shit, what did you do to this thing?” She asks, but eyes aren’t even bothering to glance up at the machine. They stay locked on the task at hand. Soon, soon enough, the cellphone is fixed and she slides it V2′s way. “Give it a go. See if everything is still in there and whatnot.” She’ll wait to start on the hatchet until she’s sure the cellphone is perfectly fine. 

it raises it’s right arm, green with a spearhead in it’s palm attached to some sort of internal winch, as if that answers everything. she probably gets the gist though. built to be a killing machine, things outside of weaponry do not tend to last long in their presence.

they take back the phone, handling it in both hands ensuring everything is in order despite there not being much to check. there was never a real want for apps and the like after all, supreme machines did not suffer the need for cumbersome apps on too breakable phones.

capped at 2, people V2 have already interacted with can go past the cap!

come tune in to watch a magical girl show, featuring your favorite(?) killer machine! V2 has found themselves stuck in a magical girl esque anime, its not even a gritty angsty one with lots of actual blood, just a lot of glitter and exaggerated attacks. their usual solution to this, murder, is off the table as any attack upon ‘civillian’ actors is brushed off as if they had not been shot at/punched/crushed at all. while shooting the monster of the week or even lightly grazing it earns a ludicrous amount of glittery ‘blood’, a very unsatisfying outcome all around.

counterricoshot​:

The beep of affirmation is what catches her attention. She pulls away from the task at hand just briefly to see the hatchet now on the table. And for that moment, she stops her work on the phone to inspect the Hatchet this time. She does look up at V2 and leans back a bit. 

“Yeah, something this….shitty isn’t really gonna do you much good is it?” It would do jackshit to be used as a weapon that’s for sure. 

“But I—” She doesn’t work on weapons. At least not ones that aren’t machine-based. “You know what? For you, I can make an exception.” It’s a good thing she DOES know how to make some pretty good weapons. So make it cut and make it to where it can actually kill someone? 

Deborah smiles up at V2. “Want me to finish up on the cellphone or just get straight to working with the weapon?”

they nod, the hatchet had simply been the sturdiest one they could procure, the most practical, though not the most deadly. it had been the hope that someone with expertise in modifications could assist it, building off the hatchet’s sturdiness.

at her momentary hesitation, it gives the slightest head tilt. she cannot hope to convince it that she did not know how to cause great harm with her creations. it’s what humans are good at, after all. making tools to break stone and earth, that also serve in rending flesh, or in this case, Metal. at least she comes to her senses, calling this an exception. what an interesting excuse, the lengths humans will go to in order to avoid culpability within themselves.

V2. Got it. She nods, and then her eyes are on the red flip phone. WHAT on earth happened to this thing? “What did you do?” She shouldn’t laugh, but she does. It’s short, though and she reaches to inspect the phone. Not that much inspecting needs to be done. It looks like it’s been through hell and back. 

“Alright. Wait here.” She says, getting up from her seat to grab the tools needed to fix V2′s flip-phone. When she returns, she’s working on it immediately. 

“Surely you didn’t come here to just get this fixed, mm?” She doesn’t pull her attention away from the task at hand as she speaks.