archived

his alert demeanor never changes despite her attempts to sympathize. he... feels bad, but he can't find it in himself to act out of turn to affirm her attempt at connection. he's not sure if she wants that. he's not sure how she wants him to react. she's already taken him off-guard with this appeal, and... ah, there it is.

N blinks, attention rapt as information is verbally transferred to him. a request, not an order. [ HE'S TOO SMART FOR THAT. HE'S LEARNED THAT FROM A HUMAN, THEY'RE THE SAME. ] N processes. N listens. she wants verbal affirmation that the orders have been accepted. he can do that. the disassembly drone shuffles his feet a little, exhaling.

CLANK-CLANK-THUMP. N's arrival isn't very ceremonious or conspicuous. he allows the hatch to slam shut after him, making sure it is secure before turning and following where he presumes the organic would have gone. as he enters the area, the loud whirring of ventilation systems rings out; the filtration system is old and unused but most certainly still operational and effective.

satisfied, N turns his attention to danny. he... can't fetch all this kid's base scan information due to some of it still being oddly scrambled. regardless, he gives a salute. [ INITIATING INTRODUCTORY PROCESSES. NO EMPLOYEE ID DETECTED. ]

“tha-that's okay!” N-0X1 gives a small, sincere smile. “i don't really know how to properly dance either, I've only watched others and gathered data on it, haha...”

he holds her hand gently but steadily, leading the two of them a few steps further out into the vast space of the ballroom. most of the tables have been moved off to the sides for floor-cleaning purposes, so there's enough room. N-0X1 could almost swear that someone turned the heat up, too, since he internally feels warm despite internal temperatures being average. his ventilation systems whirr.

his stinger is double-barbed! kinda like a fishing spear

not necessarily visible unless he’s laughing/gaping/other wide muzzle movement, but he has a secondary jaw further back in his mouth

his knee joints are calibrated to be capable of “gear shifting” into a more beast-like leg construction for longterm quadrupedal pursuit

there’s a bit of a sliding gap where his neck connects to his head so it is easier for him to shift his neck connection position, mostly used in pair with quadruped mode

his upper eyes actually have pupils if you look close enough

bottom of his feet are actually jagged/spiked for grip purposes

visible ports on his back for wing metal dispersion; the back of his jacket has holes to allow this too (they aren’t very visible because of the port coloring)

his jacket sleeves are furred at the ends

he’s got massive pockets on and inside his jacket….. he keeps secrets in there

his jacket actually has so many oil stains hes. never washed it. save for cat grooming any parts that got acid on them

“villains?” the murder drone once again tilts his head, a curious lilt to his tone. “i don't know anyone around here... i only got here yesterday, haha!”

he leans forward on his perch slightly, tail slowly swaying. they're armed and clearly think he's hostile. if he was still hungry, maybe he would have been! however, he's satiated for now, so he believes there's no need for such animosity. ( he'd rather not have to tear them up, after all! ) N taps a claw against his muzzle in contemplation.

@corpsepire

C://@corpsecmd/ his digital brow dips in concern, processors ruminating, calculating; can he not say the same? the notion of losing either of his friends for good is too much to handle. but... she's speaking of more than simple combat or mortality rates, isn't she? she's afraid. [ int main() ... std::cout << "I'm not afraid." "Well, I AM!" << std::endl; } ... ] oh, V...

there's a soft clanking of metal, muffled by fabric as he sits down next to her.

@corpsepire

C:/@corpsecmd/ he jumps at the sudden address, hitting his head on the ceiling of the craft. he rubs his head, recalibrating his sensors to make sure nothing was scrambled. the drone then sheepishly turns his attention to his squadmate, verbally fumbling for a moment before properly addressing her.

“okay!” he immediately responds, trudging through the snow a few steps to be closer to her. he glances her over, worriedly trying to assess her injured state. even if she says it's minimal, he feels better making sure.

N focuses two of his upper eyes on her approach, his tail-tip thumping against the ground once in excitement at her arrival. she leans against him—it sure isn’t enough to budge him at all, but he slightly shifts his shoulder to make sure she’s comfortable with her position. he turns his head to look at her, fangs bared in a smile.

“hey, buddy! sure you can!” he moves his hand away from the paper, adjusting the crayon in his grip. there’s a rather jagged, rough outline of what is probably supposed to be a turtle. “i’m drawing V’s turtle for her. i wanted to make her something, and i like drawing animals!”

for all of a few seconds, he considers the offer. a hunt-like game would be kind of fun. he doesn't get to do that often anymore. [ A PART OF YOU MISSES IT, DON'T LIE. ] his tail sways slightly as he thinks. it's rather amusing that she would offer something that would likely be at her expense...

[ "...ed. My Aunt Hope usually makes the others for me; she's not entirely o..." ]

his head suddenly snaps up and he becomes rigid at the mention of the name. there's the soft whirr of servos as he rotates his head around to look at her, his expression MORTIFIED. he blinks, re-assessing the rest of her dialogue before responding.

his servos lock up in surprise; N blinks in confusion a few times, then his expression settles into a small smile.

BISCUITS—she's shivering. she's breathing, but a quick scan yields precisely how chilled the human is. N moves through the snow with ease, metallic wings unfurling in order to provide some temporary shelter from the wind. yellow eyes flicker to and fro, looking over the girl. N begins to tally the nearest enclosed space with better air quality. [ QUERY RETURN: 5 RESULTS. ROUTING TO NEAREST BUNKER... ]

“c'mon little guy, i gotcha...” N bends down and scoops up the girl, nestling her against his chest. he then turns and takes off; not enough altitude to be detrimental to the organic's declining health, but enough to be swifter than he would be on foot.

it's a few minutes before he locates a bunker. he doesn't waste any time, lifting the hatch open with one hand and scampering in. it closes with a loud CLANG behind him. the disassembly drone moves down the halls with purpose. old oil stains the walls. if he remembers this sector correctly, there should be a filtration system in a room connected to the mines... there! N runs into the room, metal screeching on metal as he stops short. the robot gingerly sets the human down on the floor, swiftly turning around to locate the control panel.

once he does so, N fiddles with the buttons to little avail. he grits his teeth, swapping his arm out a few times to see if there's any appendage that would possibly help with hacking. sword, gun, various weapons... all useless! he releases a hissing breath, then sticks his hand in his mouth and drenches his fingers with saliva. he pries under the busted panel a bit, touching the operational circuitry. luckily, the conduit works, but not without shocking him a little.

the doors of the room seal shut and the ventilation begins to kick in. N sighs with relief, turning back to the human. the air problem has been taken care of, but the temperature is still frigid down here. he moves over to her, dropping to all fours. he paces, then lies on his side and curls around her slightly; not close enough to touch, but close enough that the heat he emits should gradually warm her up. ( rapid temperature switches are detrimental to organics if he remembers correctly. )

he extends his hand out a second after they do, giving a brief but enthusiastic shake. the eyes on his screen curve to match his smile; taro is a nice name. he folds his arms behind his back formally.

“nah, all three of us disassembly drones have our own production numbers. it’s a bit of a mouthful, so we go by the starting letter! like j and v…” the drone happily rocks on his heels a little, “also, your name is pretty cool! i like it.”

it is intriguing that she finds the area peaceful. N’s eyes scan across the desolate landscape. he… hasn’t had time to evaluate the area in such a way. huh. maybe she’s right. the whipping, winding weather is oddly calming… it would be nice to slow down more often.

his attention is drawn to her movement and inquiry. he tilts his head to look down at her, luminous yellow eyes blinking on his screen; his gaze averts and he straightens back up to his full height.