LOW ACTIVITY.

APHRODITE          laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO          glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account.

ARES         armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS          keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA          discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER         soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS          drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS          the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.

HERA          resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under ‘fuck it’, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES          devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON          storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

❝  Seventeen  obviously  didn’t  kick  your  head  hard  enough.  Don’t  worry,  I’m  sure  he’ll  be  up  to  make  it  two-for-two.  ❞

Number Nineteen felt… nauseous. Or at least something close to it. It was a feeling that burned in his stomach and weakened his entire body. He needed to lie down. Be by himself. Cry. Something. Instead, he pushed through his fear and regret. He stayed standing and lowered his head to avoid eye contact with The Doctor. Regardless, Nineteen could feel the icy blue of Gero’s pupils piercing him.

The truth was that the android forgot what the right answers were. He couldn’t grasp onto what he SHOULD have said– the lies he should have told. Anything would have been better than the truth. Gero wasn’t human anymore. He wasn’t even AROUND humans to understand what Nineteen was talking about. Nineteen spent so much time among organics that he got it. He was still learning, but… He had a better understanding of them than The Doctor- Than somebody who was once apart of their kind. It would have been sad if Nineteen wasn’t feeling sorry for HIMSELF.

Gero’s words ripped the pale android apart. After all, it was true, wasn’t it? He’d only been created for certain objectives, and he failed. Nineteen was happy, but at what cost? Was it so wrong? Why was it so conflicting? If he were human, would the answer be more simplified? Would it be easier to understand? Nineteen kept his mind busy with these questions so Gero couldn’t hurt him as badly… But it didn’t quite work out.

“I am.. so sorry..” He sounded sympathetic enough, but deep down Nineteen only partially meant it. “…Do you… Have a plan to correct this– me?” The pale android feared the answer. “Will you.. have me scrapped, sir?” His voice shook, slightly angry with Gero but also with himself. “I .. do not want to die.”

Eyes down. Submission. Good. Keep it that way.

The sight of Nineteen lowering his head eased the doctor of his inner tension a little. Even if this machine had not been functioning adequately to respect him in death, standing before him now, at least, he recognised his superior.

What a question. It was answered with a small silence. Would he scrap him, indeed. Perhaps he should. Logic told him that it was the only justified fate a disobedient unit could face, after all. But Nineteen had always been a little different from the others. He had been the only one who had assisted him whilst he was still a human, had stood inside the lab and waited as he’d held his last cigarette between his fingers.

How pathetic Nineteen looked now, how pathetic he sounded with that trembling voice.

Another step towards him. The doctor decided to speak in the language that Nineteen had come to learn in his absence, nonsensical words riddled with emotional poison. “I did not want to die either, Nineteen.” There were many things he hadn’t wanted, they had taken place in his life regardless. “I did not want to spend my time in Hell. Years upon years wasted amongst mindless drones who knew nothing, who said nothing of interest.”

Another small silence, just to emphasise the point.

“You are defective. You know this to be the case, do you not? Yes, this is something troubling which must be rectified as soon as possible. If you were truly apologetic for your unacceptable behaviour, would you not desire a solution to this problem? Or perhaps you now think you can lie to your creator?”

He hoped the question would induce another bout of fear in him, shake him up a little more. Gero continued before his creation could even begin to piece together an answer. “Know this, Nineteen. Whilst you were on earth, enjoying this way of life, I spent my days trying to escape damnation and the endless, ongoing misery I had been sentenced to. Do you know what it is to be thrown into a realm that promises nothing but eternal darkness? To be born into it in pure isolation? No, Nineteen. You have no idea. Even in my death, even in my suffering, you were not able to remember me, cared nothing for our ambitions. You. Once my only success."

 Marcia’s stoic face twisted into indignant fury at his refusal to see her as anything more than his experiment, chartreuse eyes alight with blazing vehemence as she glared hatefully at the acrimonious old man. Her fists were itching to pummel his face into a bloody pulp — to smash his “brilliant” mind into a grotesque splatter of brain matter across the pavement — but she forced herself to withhold her volatile urges, though her resentful expression stayed.

 “I decide what I go by, you miserable old cunt!” She viciously snapped back at him, infuriated by his disrespectful assessment of her. She wasn’t his property, and never would be! “My name is Marcia Violet! And just because you turned me into another one insane projects doesn’t erase that fact! I was born Marcia Violet, I will continue to live as Marcia Violet, and I will die as Marcia Violet! Not Android Three! Not another number on the list of your continued failures!”

 Her fear of him wasn’t completely gone, nor would it ever truly be. But that fear was overpowered by the intensity of her rage and loathing towards him, for everything that he had done, and for everything that he stood for. He was the last true remnant of the Red Ribbon Army, the last reminder of everything she had lost because of their dangerous ambitions… and she would never forgive him for it.

 Never.

 “What, is your old age finally starting to effect that big brain of yours? Going senile, old man?” Marcia sneered, crossing her arms as she regarded his inquiry with mild disdain and bemusement. How could he forget her escape? How she had become resistant to his methods of restraint and faked unconsciousness, waiting for the prime opportunity to breakout of the Red Ribbon Army’s lab? The bloody trail she had left behind? Perhaps he didn’t forget, but merely repressed those memories of his failure. Or maybe he forgot to program that memory into his current mechanical body. She didn’t know, nor did she particularly care.

 But what she did care about was hurting him like he hurt her.

 “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, now does it? I’m here. And I’ve been here for a very long time…” She admitted, bringing her hand up and tapping her index finger against her chin with faux reminisce. “Long enough to meet plenty of other functioning androids. All from different generations. All currently living their own lives. All with a distinct HATRED for you.”

 Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration… but if it invoked any sort of fear within him, then that’s all that truly mattered.

Quite the outburst. 

It was, he supposed, to be expected of someone who would try so desperately to clutch at a form of control entirely out of reach. He was her creator, inherently superior to her, and this was a fact she knew to the very traces in her circuitry. Since her construction into an Artificial Human, she was and always would be Number Three. Her hatred was futile; any attempt at rebranding herself would be in vain. 

‘I decide what I go by’? 

No, Three. No. That’s not how it works. You never earned that right.

A furious wave of insults, all of which were shrugged off. It seemed as though this unit believed that her words actually meant something to him. This failure, which he had cast aside years ago, had the audacity to stand here now and attribute worth to herself. She was merely a dog barking at the air, as dogs so often do: meaningless, worthless, an irritating background noise in dire need of shutting up. How could something he’d built with his own hands become this? How? Looking into her eyes was like looking backwards into Hell. 

His expression offered her nothing, no emotion, no internal thought. There was no conversation to be had here, and even the act listening to her rambling was a waste of time. Still, he would grace the beast with a reply. “I see. I suppose you are correct, Number Three. It doesn’t matter how you managed to survive. You have not mattered in a long time, in fact. It is a great shame, really, but you should know that I care nothing for who you have met in your pathetic existence, android or otherwise. Perhaps it is the case that other units also managed to escape their fates, but you are worthless - all of you are worthless, and your collective ‘hatred’ will change nothing.”

The dog needed a kick. How unfortunate that the pleasure would not be his.

“Now then, if you are quite finished with this nonsense, I must leave to pursue my objectives. Enjoy your life while you can, but know that one day you will take my place in Hell.” There was no point in trying to fight, as much as he wanted to take hold of her neck and deactivate her using a method far more satisfying than that of the emergency controller. He could acutely sense the strength she possessed, and it rendered any kind of physical conflict pointless. Rest assured, however, that she would meet her end eventually, even if not by his hands.