#thevioletandroid

 Marcia momentarily bit her lower lip, preventing herself from responding scathingly to the kindly android, who was truly undeserving of any scorn she might have felt for the familial greeting she was given. Perhaps she had expected him to forget her, to forget their connection – it had been over twenty years since she had last seen him after all – but no. Her number was still imprinted in his database, and as he was fully mechanical, he didn’t have the ageing memory of the human mind. He would probably always remember her, and what she was.

  But perhaps he couldn’t remember the moment all those years ago, where his kindness and open arms drove her away from her attempts to slay Flappe, shocking and angering her at how forgiving he was to the man that weaponized them. Where she had fled as she suffered through an emotional breakdown, screaming at him in a fit of rage and misery, that they werenot family. That they would never be family.

  Or maybe he did, and still chose to see her as such, because his mechanical heart was more human than her organic one. Something she thought of as both annoying and endearing.

  “Eighter,” Marcia responded calmly, giving him a small half-smile. Though she didn’t return the familial sentiment, that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to see him. He was a very easy person to like. “It has been, hmm? What have you been up to these days? Are you still living in Jingle Village?”

Send “ 🌍 “ for a random fact about my muse’s culture

Saiyan’s really didn’t have a form of currency. It was usually from bartering and trade. Anything that was deemed useful or valuable was often traded for other goods and services. Things like coins and jewels had no use to a Saiyan besides gaudy decorations. Saiyans traded in produce, meat, furs, armory and weapons, seeds, precious materials, and whatever else they could find with some use to it. 

“Number Three!?”

//Ask, and you shall receive!

I don’t know if this counts as unpopular, but I don’t think Lord Bojack and Zangya were a couple. And I don’t ship them - well! That’s a lie. I do, and I don’t.

I think that it’s arbitrary that segments of the fandom pair Bojack with Zangya. I mean, I understand why they do it - he’s the leader, and she’s the last lady of their race - but that’s not evidence. What is evident is Bojack is ruthless dick.

“Only on Sundays.”

Send me one pro and one con you could see with having sex with my character.

“Wow.” Serrana murmured breathlessly. The idea of roughhousing with Marcia had her tail twitching in excitement already. Sure, she had been nursing a crush on the baker for quite some time now, and Marcia certainly wasn’t shy about her attractions…But to hear all this spoken so openly? It brought a flush to the saiyan’s cheeks, and a smile to her face.

Her grin sank a bit as Marcia got into the cons. Virgin…Is it that obvious? Serrana thought with some dismay. “I mean…I’m not selfish.” Serrana insisted, somewhat defensively. “Just because you’re taking the lead doesn’t mean I’m a dead fish.” She huffed. 

But Serrana softened at the smaller woman’s tantalizing words, mind racing with the implications. This is it. She’s inviting you! Put up or shut up.

send my muse hard to answer questions || OPEN

  How did she know? How did she find out about him? His demeanor quickly changes, from his once composed and cold gaze to one filled with anger and hatred, eyes filled with pain, and remorse mixed among other feelings. How DARE she bring him up as if she knew what had happened, how dare she hold the knowledge of Yasa. The name alone held so many personal memories and feelings so intimate to him, even bringing up his own son left Gero in a vulnerable state he absolutely despises.

  “You don’t think I’ve never thought of this?” His voice is so quiet and barely audible as he leans forward on his desk, his chest hurts and aches and it’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in many, many years. He hates it. “You don’t think I wish I could have helped him? That I wish he were still here?”

  There’s many words on his tongue he’s tempted to lash out at her, but he doesn’t need one of his own creations to really see just how vulnerable he is. How much pain he still feels. He doesn’t need her to know all of this- the androids, Cell, himself- was because he couldn’t cope, he couldn’t move on. “A father should never be the one at their child’s funeral.”

  Why does he keep speaking? Revealing this much information about his psyche can prove to be a fatal mistake in the end. “A father shouldn’t be holding their child as they take their last breaths.”

  When did his body start to tremble? Is this anger? When..when was the last time he felt like this? At his lowest point, nothing but emotions clouding his vision from rationality. “You know nothing!” He would have brought him back in a heart beat.