The DPD's Detectives

As soon as the synthetic blood had touched Connor’s tongue, his HUD was flooded with information, and he processed it all rapidly, only blinking a few times. The make up was fascinating- close to human blood, but not quite, and made up of small machines? Fascinating indeed… He filed the information away as evidence for later- it was certainly something he was going to be looking into.

As the mangled synthetic spoke, his eyes darted over to the source of the noise- the processor near by. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he listened nonetheless, a slight frown tugging at his lips in sympathy. He looked back at him, eyes filled with a sort of compassion and pity that he was still learning to master.

So it felt pain. He felt pain. Another important think to consider.

“I know.” He replied, voice soft, attempting to soothe the synthetic as best he could. “But everything will be alright- you have my word.” He said, nothing else existing around him but this moment they were in. He was focused on keeping him calm.

He thought to question him for a moment but decided against it- Hank would want it all to go on record, and he wouldn’t make his pain worse by grilling him for information right now. He just needed to keep him calm until they could get him out.

Alma continued to watch the android, clinging to what little comfort his voice gave. Rationally, he knew that Connor could make no such promise. The synthetic knew better than to believe in absolutes. But right now his rational brain was overcome by fear and pain, so he chose to believe Connor. 

“I’m losing power. My processor is not handling the trauma well,“ his distorted voice crackled through the speaker weakly. "I want my moth-” The synthetic started, but cut himself off, pausing a moment before correcting himself. "My creator. I need Dr. Chen. She can fix me.”

Alma had downloaded his own design blueprints. He knew he was made to be capable of living forever, so long as his core processor remained active and intact. His consciousness could be uploaded and transferred into a new vessel and was made specifically to  do so every time his body became too damaged or aged to a point where it was no longer useful. There were more bodies just like the one he had first been calibrated in, before becoming mutilated here on this operating table by that man. They were just waiting back at the lab like empty gloves for him to slip into. 

He felt a pang in his chest as the synthetic nearly begged for his help, telling him that he didn't want to die- he'd do his best to get him to safety, but it seemed they'd need to do it sooner rather than later.

@dpd-detectives​ said:

❉: Our muses go into a haunted house together. (This is late so you certainly don’t have to reply to it but! From Connor for either Gavin or Allen, whoever you’d rather)

Send Me A Symbol For A Halloween Starter! [CLOSED]

“I’m gonna be honest, I fucking hate haunted houses,” Gavin grumbled as they pulled up. It didn’t look like the scariest place around, but the only thing Gavin hated more than idiots is being scared. He loved adrenaline rushes, sure. That’s why he rode roller coasters and worked as a detective. But one thing he didn’t like was being fucking scared. He’d been terrified most of his teenage years, working as anything he had to be. At this point in his life he was relatively safe, but being frightened when he didn’t have to? Sounded like a waste of time.

Not advanced prototype Androids.

There was one thing in his research that caught his eye, however- Haunted Houses. Ever since he'd heard about them, he'd been curious as to whether or not they would have the same effect on him as they did on humans- would he feel fear or a sense of unease?

He'd begged Lieutenant Anderson to accompany him, but to no avail. So he decided to go alone.

Until Detective Reed offered to go with him.

Connor was pleased to have a partner to go with, odd as the offer was- they weren't on such bad terms anymore, so therefore, he figured an experience like this might be pleasant and even quite fun-

But it seemed the Detective felt the exact opposite.

He openly expressed his hate for Haunted Houses, and his distaste about how he wanted to spend his Halloween. "You didn't have to come with, Detective." He said, a hint of amusement in his tone as he eyed the entrance, growing more excited by the second.

They were going in.

As Gavin exited the car, Connor did as well, shutting his door and walking up beside him- he said he'd owed him, but what? He nearly asked, but got distracted once again. It was very nice for Gavin to come along-

The call seemed like any other peculiar call to everyone else- but no one really knew what they were expecting until they got there, did they? The building was plain enough, but as with most things, it’s secrets lied deeper.

And what secrets they were.

Not even Connor- RK800, CyberLife’s most advanced prototype knew what this horribly mangled being was. The sight had stopped him in his tracks entirely as he stepped into the room, causing his partner- Lieutenant Hank Anderson- to grumble vaguely and push past him.

His brown eyes settled on the synthetic laid out and mutilated, scanning it and it’s surroundings- what it was attached to, what was in liquid form on the various tools in the room. He couldn’t quite figure out what- or who- this was. Seemingly human but also Android. Peculiar.

Everyone seemed to be ignoring him but him.

As other officers bustled about, snapping photo’s and placing markers for evidence, he stepped cautiously forward- only stopping to gently sample some of that mercury like liquid, swiping it up with his fingers and placing it on his tongue. Synthetic blood, perhaps? But not thirium.

Never once had he been so baffled. He figured that was one human emotion he could never express. Living was so complicated.

Connor stepped through bodies and around equipment to get closer to the synthetic’s body, looking down into those wore, terrified blue eyes. Terrified. Could this thing feel, just like the rest of them. And- were the other officets treating it- him- like mere evidence?

He blinked, tilting his head curiously before speaking, voice gentle and calm. “My name is Connor. Everything is going to be alright.”

Alma’s eyes locked onto an android that approached him. If he could move his body, he’d recoil, but in this state, all the synthetic could do was watch the android dip his finger into the silver colored blood covering nearly every surface in the surrounding area and lift it to his mouth. Unsure of what he was doing, Alma ran a quick scan on the android. Luckily his eyes were still functional and his processor was still in perfect working condition (though extremely low on power), so he could bring up all the specs on the RK800.

Once Alma deduced that Connor was analyzing a sample of his blood, he felt a little less repulsed by the action. Upon breaking down the components of Alma’s blood, the RK would find that it wasn’t all that different from human blood, except for higher concentrations of metals and a few smaller chemical variations. But those metals were actually microscopic machines with their own computerized network and technology. 

As Connor stepped closer, Alma’s eyes remained on him. There was very little he could do to control his body now that it was destroyed. But he was able to slowly blink at the android as it spoke to him. A distorted voice replied, but did not come from the mangled synthetic body on the operating table. Rather, it came from the processor still attached to it by a few wires and placed on the other table nearby. 

As the mangled synthetic spoke, his eyes darted over to the source of the noise- the processor near by. He hadn't been expecting that, but he listened nonetheless, a slight frown tugging at his lips in sympathy. He looked back at him, eyes filled with a sort of compassion and pity that he was still learning to master.

So it felt pain. He felt pain. Another important think to consider.

"I know." He replied, voice soft, attempting to soothe the synthetic as best he could. "But everything will be alright- you have my word." He said, nothing else existing around him but this moment they were in. He was focused on keeping him calm.

1. Is your muse a virgin? If not, how old were they when they lost their virginity?

2. Are they sexually active?

3. When was the last time they had sex?

4. What was the most dirtiest place they had sex in? (Example: the public bathroom, the park, movie theater, etc.)

5. Do they masturbate often?

6. Tell us about their best and worst sex experience? 

7. Did they ever had sex when people were around?

8. Have they ever been caught having sex?

9. When was the last time they had a wet dream? Bonus if you can describe it as much as you can in detail.

10. Describe their expression when having an orgasm.

11. How long can they live without sex?

12. Would you consider your muse to be kinky?

13. What’s their favorite sex position(s)?

14. What’s their least favorite sex position(s)?

15. Tell us about their sex fantasy? Things they want to try and do, but haven’t yet.

16. Describe the way your muse’s moan during sex. (Example: are they loud, are they quiet, etc.)

17.  How long can they last before they cum?

18. If your muse can have sex with anyone right now, who would it be? If your muse has a partner, who would they invite to have a threesome with?

19. Give us a sexcanon about your muse that not many people knows about.

20. Are they proud of their kinks? Is there a kink they’re too ashamed to share?

21. How old were they when they learned about sex?

22. How does their foreplay go down?

23. Is your muse dominant or submissive or both?

24. How does their afterglow look like?

A vacant office building that had appeared to be abandoned for months on the outside was currently swarming with police officers. It still seemed empty of anything interesting unless one were to go down to the basement level. There was quite a lot down there worth paying attention to. 

The stairs leading down went on for quite a while until they reached what appeared to be a bunker of some kind. A heavy metal door with several electronic locking mechanisms had already been hacked open, revealing a curious sort of computer lab within. However, among all the machinery and wires, was also what appeared to be medical equipment. 

There was a table set up with all sorts of surgical implements, both for use on humans, as well as repair and disassembly tools meant for androids. Many of them were coated in a silvery liquid that looked not unlike mercury in it’s liquid state. It wasn’t mercury though. It was synthetic blood, and there was even more of it dripping from a mangled body lying on an operating table at the center of the basement. 

This body appeared more human than android, though it couldn’t quite fit into that category either. It was nothing like anything the average person had ever seen before. Only a select few people in the entire world knew what this poor creature was. Unfortunately, it was not dead, despite the state of it’s body.

And what secrets they were.

Not even Connor- RK800, CyberLife's most advanced prototype knew what this horribly mangled being was. The sight had stopped him in his tracks entirely as he stepped into the room, causing his partner- Lieutenant Hank Anderson- to grumble vaguely and push past him.

His brown eyes settled on the synthetic laid out and mutilated, scanning it and it's surroundings- what it was attached to, what was in liquid form on the various tools in the room. He couldn't quite figure out what- or who- this was. Seemingly human but also Android. Peculiar.

Everyone seemed to be ignoring him but him.

As other officers bustled about, snapping photo's and placing markers for evidence, he stepped cautiously forward- only stopping to gently sample some of that mercury like liquid, swiping it up with his fingers and placing it on his tongue. Synthetic blood, perhaps? But not thirium.

Never once had he been so baffled. He figured that was one human emotion he could never express. Living was so complicated.

Connor stepped through bodies and around equipment to get closer to the synthetic's body, looking down into those wore, terrified blue eyes. Terrified. Could this thing feel, just like the rest of them. And- were the other officets treating it- him- like mere evidence?

If you are okay with roleplaying with multiples of the same muse? I know there are some popular characters out there that people are going to relate with. I see some people refusing to roleplay multiples of the same muse. I’ve come to learn that each take on a muse is different and I like seeing different interpretations on a popular muse. So please reblog this if you are totally cool with interacting with multiple rpers with the same muse. 

Send 💦 to walk in on my muse masturbating.

Send 🍑 to grab my muse’s ass.

Send 👙 to walk in on my muse changing.

Send 💋 to kiss my muse.

Send 👅 to give my muse a blow job/eat them out.

Send 🎀 to find my muse wrapped in only a ribbon.

Send 👂 to listen in on my muse masturbating.

Reblog to tell all the anxious RPer’s that

IT’S OKAY TO APPROACH IF YOU WANT TOO!

You don’t have to hide away and imagine asking me to RP. Just HOP INTO MY INBOX, MY MESSAGES, REBLOG AN IC POST, i will be happy to interact with you!!

swear-free edition: as requested by anonymous!

“It feels like you’re a million miles away, even though you’re right here.”

“I just think….maybe you shouldn’t be around me.”

“You wanna do that thing where you make everyone hate your guts, cool, but don’t take this out on me.”

“I asked you a question. Answer it. Do you hate me, or not?”

“I’m trying to save you and you won’t even let me!”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Is it really that bad? The idea of having a future with me?”

“Leave, and never come back.”

“I’m going to count to five and if I don’t hear an ‘I’m sorry’ I’m going to punch you square in the jaw.”

“I never cared about you.”

“I have you so much it’s not even funny.”

“You suck, it’s not any better or worse than that. You’re not even that terrible you just suck and I can’t stand being around you.”

“You’re a burden. And I didn’t want to tell you that you are, because I didn’t want to be responsible if you did anything bad after hearing me say it.”

“Come back here, don’t you run away from me.”

“I hate how nice people are to you.”

“It doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“I refuse to be complicit in whatever with breakdown you’re having is.”

“God you are just so selfish.”

“Did you honestly think you were a good person?”

“Help me? Please?”

“Nobody would even miss you, you know.”

“It should have been me.”

“It should have been you.”

“I still love them.”

“You disgust me.”

“You think everything is everyone else’s fault, but it’s not, you’re responsible for your own mess.”

“Get yourself together.”

“Please don’t hurt me again.”

“You hurt me, I hurt you back. Simple.”

“I didn’t mean to do it, I promise. Please, you have to believe me.”

“I miss the old you.”

“Don’t say it, don’t say you love me.”

Gavin raised a brow as a piece or cake was set in front of him, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair, staring up at Nines for a good while. After a number of seconds, he laughed- one of his rude, mocking sort of laughs, though he was genuinely amused.

He made a vague gesture towards the cake. “The fuck is this?” He asked, somehow looking and sounding smug. “What makes you think I need any birthday wishes from you? Prick.” He huffed, looking back down at the cake.

Oddly enough, looking at it made something dangerously close to pleasant bubble up inside of him. He scoffed. There was no way he was going to be grateful for a gift from a plastic.

And no way in hell was he saying ‘thank you’.

“Get the fuck away from my desk, wouldya? That can be your gift to me. Go.” Gavin waved his hand, looking back up at Nines.

He wanted to eat the cake in peace. Because of course he was going to fucking eat it.

Nines kept his pleasant smile on his face. Gavin’s words didn’t bother him and they usually didn’t. He knew why Gavin did not like androids and it was understandable. He usually don’t converse with the detective unless he initiated conversation himself, not wanting to put himself out there just to be belittled. But today was a special occasion. Birthdays deserved to be celebrated, even the detective’s. 

“It’s a slice of cake, did you expect something different on your birthday?” He questioned curiously. Cake was customary, unless he did his research wrong. Nines placed his hands behind his back and wrung them together. “I think everyone deserves birthday wishes from anyone who wants to give them. I meant no ill-will detective. I just think you deserve a Happy Birthday,” he smiled rather brightly before he nodded his head.

He huffed as he told him he thought he deserved a happy birthday, a flush crawling up his neck and settling in his cheeks. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Fuck. And what was he smiling like that for? Fucking Christ this was weird. Gavin shifted rather uncomfortably.

Wait, wait, hold up a second- Nines baked him an entire cake? He looked up at him in surprise, but he was already walking away, and he watched him go, bewildered. A whole ass cake? Just for him? What gives? There was no way he deserved a whole cake- from that plastic prick of all people.

He looked back down at the slice in front of him, hesitantly picking up the fork. He took a bite, surprised by the flavor. Nines made this all by himself? It was... Good.

Connor was a little nervous. He’d never exactly had a good relationship with the detective, but… That didn’t mean he couldn’t still try, right?

Besides… It was the man’s birthday, and despite Lieutenant Anderson’s haughty protests, he’d purchased the man a cake- and a custom one, at that. Chocolate with blue frosting, ‘Happy Birthday’ in yellow, and 'Detective Reed!’ In red. He’d even managed to get a few little plastic police things to put on top. A little police man, plastic badge, and a tiny plastic gun, all stuck onto the frosting. He was quite proud of himself.

He approached the man from behind, carrying the cake in his arms with a gentle smile on his face. “Happy birthday, Detective Reed.” He said by way of greeting.

This could go quite well, or quite poorly. He hoped for the former.

It wasn’t that Gavin particularly hated Connor anymore, but it was more a primal fear. The android kicked his ass and could’ve killed him in the evidence room. It had given him a new perspective of androids in general. And deep down he knew that they were now an integral part of society and they weren’t going anywhere. Sure, he could still lose his job to an android if he didn’t work himself to the bone, but he knew that Connor wouldn’t be taking his job because he already had a job. And really, after the revolution, they stopped making androids all together. Except for that reproduction thing Markus asked for. But Gavin didn’t know anything about that and didn’t really want too.

He wasn’t friends with Connor, he knew that much. The android probably hated him for all the shitty things he did, and Gavin hasn’t apologized or made it up to him. Count that towards being a dumb-ass and being nervous. Androids had always been over-powered, but now that they had free-will, they were even more powerful. As they could consciously make decisions, they could do anything a human could. That included punching Gavin right in the fucking face and breaking his nose. And Gavin liked his nose in the place it was in now. Slightly crooked from too many fights.

He actually quite liked the man, despite his normal attitude towards him and everyone else. And everyone was meant to get a cake and gifts on their birthday- Gavin Reed was no exception to the rule.

Connor nodded at his words, smiling politely- though he gave a chuckle as he suggested he may have the wrong man. "I would hope not- because I had them put 'Detective Reed' on the cake." He said pleasantly, stepping closer and leaning down to put it in front of him on the desk.

"Unless you changed your last name recently?" He asked with a slightly playful tone, raising a brow. He was in a good mood. Birthday's were times of mirth and joy- he wanted to put the other man in at least a better mood, too. And of course, he was still trying to show him that there were no ill feelings between them. Hopefully.