#le01

now i know this LOOKS like a dramatic angst-fest but it was in fact inspired by this post:

argumate: love the way your robot’s eyes change from placid blue to angry red at the exact moment it decides to murder you; incredibly considerate of the designers to add the extra leds and connect them to the homicide output of the emotion chip.

Taare'gru'nuruodo, core name: egrun (vae/vaer/vaers) & LE-01, also known as ellie or leon (🤖/🤖s/🤖self*)

my newest agent is in fact a duo: chiss engineer egrun and vaer droid creation, LE-01, an assassin droid created with a mix of chiss and gree technology! egrun’s obsession w gree tech led to vaer experimenting for many years before finally creating ellie, who promptly caused so much trouble egrun was exiled from chiss space. they fake their way into intelligence with the help of an old chiss friend.

*ellie is a little shit and v full of 🤖self; in-universe, in the ultimate power move, 🤖s pronouns are a holo of ellie dancing, projected mid-conversation (it pleases 🤖 to no end that 🤖s pronouns are more convenient for droids).

but since i cant literally make that into an emoji, 🤖 will have to do.

also lana basically playing matchmaker for LE and shoving a new field partner at 🤖 post egrun’s defection is v funny to me.

The conservatory is a labyrinth, palm fronds sending confusing shadows skittering over the pathways, simulating nighttime in the jungle a little too accurately for Anastasia’s liking as she wanders, damp and lost and unhappy, in search of something -- anything -- to replace the faint scent of pond water that clings to her unwantedly. Uncertain as to where the cloakroom could possibly be after shedding various layers ( the jarring shift in temperature from the icebox outside and the sauna within had been enough to make her skin prickle ), Derek’s earlier comment of the King’s headquarters being somewhere underground prompts her to search for some sort of staircase. Instead, she eventually finds what looks like a set of office doors. Each handle is tried in turn, unsuccessful at getting inside. Angrily, she smacks the panelling with the heel of her palm and turns away to come face to face with-- someone. “It’s not what it looks like,” Anastasia is quick to say, hastily attempting to recall a name. A gang. A power. Her mind blank, she wipes a damp strand of hair from her face, jumping to conclusions. “You can see I’m having shitty evening so if you want to get all tough guy with me for snooping when I wasn’t even snooping can we just reschedule it for some other time?”