CyberLife

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“Yes, fresh air should help with your work as well. It will help keep your brain active and healthy.” Chloe spoke softly as she could see he was trying to be happy about this. “Hey… I’m proud of you for even trying.” She spoke softly to him. His eyes spoke of trying to shut out the portion of his of his brain that didn’t let him leave.

“Just call for me if you need me.”

His smile towards her was no where near the forced façade he put in place for others; it was nothing if not genuine, laden with the happiness of thousands, the wonder of millions, and the warmth of the sun. For he was Icarus, and she was his sun, though he could never fly too close. Her burn was nothing damaging, it was more of a healing, radiant light than the searing downfall that Icarus faced. She was his guiding light. His beacon of hope. His legacy and his legend. 

Elijah gave her a nod, before turning towards one of the rooms off of the workshop - a spare bedroom he’d converted into more of an apartment space for the days he knew were inevitable. Days on end spent working. A change of clothes, some water on his face, and he’d be good to go. A nice hot shower could wait until after their walk. He’d welcome it’s embrace after venturing into the snowy outdoors.

@getlostsqdwrd​​ ‘s call was answered by: Connor RK800

|| ☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up ( markus @ connor )

Connor’s cheeks were burning a soft flare of blue, heated from speaking and motioning wildly, one to passionately talk with his entire body rather than sit still and calmly speak. His lower lip was tugged in by his teeth as he tried to place the words correctly, running a hand back through the mess of curls atop his head before he continued. 

Thank goodness… Whoever he had just started walking with, he was glad that they were that calm about suddenly being approached like that. Although the bit about having the right to apprehend the man was worrying, a little. It sounded like something a cop might say, which was good for that particular situation, but might bring a few unwanted questions Jakob’s way.

Oh well. Better than being kidnapped. Jakob kept walking with the stranger for a while, occasionally glancing around. His unwanted pursuer seemed to have disappeared after the first few blocks.

“I… think he’s gone. Thanks, man, I think you just saved my life,” he said, sighing in relief.

“It’s not a problem,” Connor replied, head leaning ever so slightly to the side. He fell in step seamlessly, keeping a casual ‘energy’ to himself. 

“Hopefully they’ve backed off for a while, hm? I’m Connor, by the way.” His introduction was followed by a bright, smile, no hand shake extended, though it took everything in his will power to stop his own programming. 

“A walk sounds lovely.” She spoke knowing full well just getting him out of the house was a big deal. He was a recluse and Chloe suspected it went far worse than that and that made this important.

At his question the time was calculated rather quickly but she wasn’t sure how to give the answer without possibly causing distress. “45 days, 19 hours and 34 minutes… roughly. ”

Momentarily, Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. It took him a beat to fully process what Chloe had said - had it really been that long since they’d seen the outside? Had he really been cooped up in here working for that long? It was almost mind blowing, but Elijah knew himself. He knew his own aversions to people, the outside world, and being seen in the public eye. His breath released in a shaking exhale, betraying his stone face. 

“That’s...longer than I thought,” Kamski admitted, moving to stand, stretching his aching muscles to the popping protest of his back. “It’ll be good to get some fresh air!”

@getlostsqdwrd​​ ‘s call was answered by: Larissa Wynry

||  ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground 

Struggling would do her no good in this situation, in fact, giving in would serve her better in the long run. As Larissa relaxed her legs and allowed her body to be forced to the ground, she locked eyes with the RK800 above her. 

@dpds-finest​ ‘s call was answered by: RK800-51 Connor

|| ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them -From Gavin to Connor [prompt]

The last thing Connor had expected today was to lose a limb. He’d taken harder hits from thugs in back alleys, and worse damage from stray bullets in stopping gang riots, but this? This was taking the cake. The android grumbled as he was lifted off the ground, protesting that he was fine, though his diagnostics and appearance in general said otherwise. One good blow to leg and he was down for the count, so to speak, a stray bullet severing a thirium line.

There was no way he was going to be able to put pressure onto the affected leg, and he very nearly considered trying to remove it entirely, though he was unsure how well that would go over with the detective either.

@cyberlifehub​ followed you

Jakob was being followed. He didn’t know who, but he knew that someone had been on his trail for the last few blocks.

… Or maybe he was being paranoid. Sometimes he got that way, thinking that his creator (or someone working for him) was around every corner, trying to recapture him. Yes, he was just being-

Wait. No. That guy had definitely glanced up to look at him, and looked away upon being caught. Again. He had already done that on the last corner.

So, quickly looked around, catching the eye of someone else passing by, and started waving. “Oh, hey! I haven’t seen you around in a while!” he called out, half-jogging over to meet them. Once he got close, he whispered, “Sorry, please don’t freak out, but I’m being followed.”

The LED on Connor’s temple flicked yellow, spinning slowly before he fully processed what was happening and it clicked back to a stationary, calm blue. A bright smile found it’s way onto his face, looking at Jokob as if he’d known him for years.

“It’s been forever! How have you been?” The android’s voice rose an octave in convincing surprise as he patted Jakob on the shoulder. “Walk with me! We should catch up! I’ve just got a couple more stops to make.”

@dpds-finest​‘s call was answered by: Detective Gavin A. Reed

|| 🤕 let you tend to their wounds -From Nines to Gavin [prompt]

The hiss of pain was involuntary, slipping past gritted teeth without a second thought. Gavin cursed himself, mentally, for showing any sort of weakness in the slightest as the android’s hands worked.

“Fuck- Nines, geez, it’s fine-” It wasn’t that the pain of disinfectant was unbearable, it was the nagging, digging pain left behind from the graze that made his head spin. Their target had nearly stabbed him before being apprehended, and, honestly, Gavin was a little more than thankful it’d only been a graze. Nothing too deep, at most it’d need stitches.

Chloe knew Elijah had been declining in some ways but didn’t know how to help other than to be here for him and do the small things that she was capable of in order to take care of him. When she had noticed he had skipped a few meals and hadn’t been snacking either she went and decided to cook him something to eat.

Chloe made the meal and made sure to also grab a bottle of water for him as well before taking the meal to him on a tray setting it in front of his work space.

“You need to eat Eljiah, and then perhaps we can do something together?” If he was with her perhaps she could get him to take a break from his work right now.

Having completely turned away from his work, Elijah could feel the day sinking into his very bones. He’d not moved much, and his joints let that be known, protesting with pops, cracks, and creaks. Making a mental note to move around more when he did get back to work, Elijah mulled over her words as he took his first few bites. Of course the food was delicious.

“How about a walk?” The suggestion, like anything else he’d done since leaving CyberLife was impulsive, but the thoughts that followed it were always calculated and full of worry. “I’m sure the park’s not too busy this time of day.” 

Since leaving the ‘lime light,’ Kamski had taken to being even more of a recluse, bordering on agoraphobic. Being noticed or recognized were among his worst fears of leaving the house, so he’d taken to wearing medical masks and hats when he did have to venture out. It wasn’t questioned, after the pandemics when he was young, people still wore masks if they were even remotely ill. Precaution and prevention. He was thankful for it. 

Elijah R. Kamski

Hephaestus & Hecate

Oh, sweet child of crafting and magic! Your father is the wronged blacksmith of the gods, and your mother a Titan of the mysterious deep. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by hard work, creation, and boundless ideas. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of alchemy as you grow into your power.

tagged by: @thirum-stained

Regulations of Interactions

Short, sweet, and to the point.

Don’t be a jerk. No homophobia, racism, etc. will be tolerated on this blog or in any interaction with me.

Respect that I can’t always reply quickly! I will try my best to reply as quickly as possible, but I am a student, and take care of my sick mother.

I will RP NSFW, but if there is discomfort I am perfectly fine with fade-to-black.

I do not RP with anyone under the age of 16, this is a personal preference, please respect it.

@thirum-stained​ 's call was forwarded to the voicemail box of: Elijah R. Kamski. Please leave a message after the tone.

|| 🥘 eat from Chloe to Elijah [prompt]

To say that he neglected his health when there was a specific project in the forefront of his mind was, without a doubt, an understatement when regarding Elijah. Though he was a naturally rather thin man with a usually athletic build, there were sure signs of recent years taking their toll on him, a decline in muscle mass, a decline in appetite, a general decline in physical health. The mental aspects were on a slow decline, but he feigned high spirits all too easily given his usually somber demeanor in general.

That’s not to say there weren’t days where it all showed, his heart on his sleeve, deep bags under his eyes, and stubble gracing his usually manicured shave. Normally tied back hair fell in ribbons around his face and down his back, in need of a wash, but neglected even though he made a point of keeping his body clean. Washing his hair was too much of a hassle sometimes, though he wouldn’t dare consider admitting it, nor would he give cutting it a passing thought. 

The food sat before him, though, hit him like a truck. He didn’t remember the last time he’d put fork to plate, though pen to paper was recalled all too easily. A steady, gloved hand reached up to wipe a bit of oil from his face before he looked up at the presenter of the meal, ready to protest. Seeing her, though, immediately quelled that fire.

“Lo,” he started, trying to place his words, and eventually giving up, removing the gloves, and sliding back from the work station to give her, and the food, his full attention.