ᴅᴇᴜx ᴇx m̵̮͋a̷̭͂c̸̲̒h̶͇̓i̶̠̾n̸̗͛a̵̓?

Enter Command... Command ► Intro.script3302 Processing... COMMAND ACCEPTED. ɢʀᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢs. ɪ ᴀᴍ 9, sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ɢᴜᴇʀɪʟʟᴀ ᴜɴɪᴛ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴛ̴̡̨̢͚̲̲͍̥̲͍͚̽̔̍̍̀̀̌̿̈́̆͝ᴏ̷̢̝̩͈͓̞̗̪͔̬͇̈͆̾͌͂̈́̒̅̎͌͛ ̶̛̖̯͉͍̙̯̥̠̲̠̍̒͆̀̑̍̑͆̑͛͜ᴍ̵̡̫̥̦̫̮͕̮̣̩̅̓̓̌̊̈̃̎̀̃̂ͅᴇ̸̟̩͈͈͍̲̱̥̪͑̔͗͊̾̓͂͗̅͋̎ͅͅᴇ̸̡̡̬͙̮̬̱̖̫̰̿͂̈́̃͛͋͐̈́̒͠͝ͅᴛ̶̣̳͔̗̰̟̳̮͙̖̏̍̐͑̌̊̀̏̚͝͝ͅ ̵̛̣̜̘͕̳̯̩̻̙̭̠̂́͌͗͛͐̏̈́͌͐ʏ̸̞̮̹̞͈̺͓̫͈̹̉̇͌̓͌̾̆̒̋̆͌ͅᴏ̵̢̲̩̲̙̠̮̜̞̪̏͛̓͌͒̈̅̕̚͜͠͝ᴜ̵̢͈̥͈̙͕̦͉͔͉͙͐̏̀̈́̋̓̈́͛̌̇͝.̸̡̨̮̼͇͉͓͔͙̜͉̓̍̀̓̇̇͋̔̀͝͝ invalid function

[mitmirmithalten-deactivated2013]

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Oh, that grace, oh, that body Oh, that face, makes me wanna party

[jisicaa-deactivated20131120]

[bomisocapnist]

                 ─█ ▌  ᄃ O M M A N D  I N P U T . . .  

            ᴘ ʀ ᴏ ᴄ ᴇ s s ɪ ɴ ɢ …                 ☣              ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ.

" There’s a whole world you ain’t never seen before, sugarlips, an’ lemme be the one t’tell you that it ain’t purdy. Naw, man; if all the fun you have out on the battlefield t’were worth the shit you ‘ad to go through t’get there, I ain’t never even’ve left in the first place. But, yeno, leavin’ is fun on its own too, the government don’t like bein’ dicked around an’ abandoned by they own creations—‘specially the North Korean kind’a government, y’hurr? I mean, you ain’t get’a kick some unsuspecting human ass no mo’, but I get’ta pretend I’m one of you’s like them good old days when I’s actually was. Name’s 1, by the way, hope t’meet the lot of you organ-donors soon ‘nough. "

             ᴘ ᴏ ᴡ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ɴ ɢ   ᴅ ᴏ ᴡ ɴ  …    ☣    sʜᴜᴛᴅᴏᴡɴ sᴜᴄᴄᴇssғᴜʟ.

Since the beginning of World War II, unbeknownst to the public, mechanized Guerrilla units (humans, often kidnapped, who were combined with top-secret, highly advanced robotic technology through an excruciatingly painful procedure) have been effectively integrated into human armies in order to limit the number of casualties. However, after proving to be unstable, these units were pulled out of the battlefield and put into storage. When it was realized that technology could not eliminate the free will of these cyborgs, so to speak, they were shot in the head and disassembled for the next batch of experiments. Experiments which, during their completion in early 2000 in top-secret laboratories overlooked by the North Korean government, proved to be successful.

                     ᴛ ʏ ᴘ ɪ s ᴛ   ɴ ᴏ ᴛ ᴇ  ☣ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ.

This is an original character roleplaying blog partnered with the account 651209. For those who are unaware, 1 is, indeed, a cyborg, but your character will remain completely oblivious unless he exposes himself accidentally or through purpose. 1 (or whatever name he will give your character) is not related to GD or Big Bang, but his unit of five members borrow their faces. I’m new to writing on Tumblr and I apologize ahead of time for being a bit of a noob. 

[sushi-money]

[graphiccrimescene-blog]

[651209]

✈

Wading through a sea of populace after a target that bobbed in and out of picture was the simple part; the predicament existed when their parallel paths splintered and twisted together. She needed to find the exact place for this occurrence to work in her benefit; a faultless setting where the menagerie of nameless faces that swarmed the shady streets would not be an impediment to her goal. As quickly as their paths entwined, they needed to unravel. It was a complicated accomplishment, but wholly achievable. When she had first spotted the woman of interest, she had appeared to be utterly focused on getting to where she needed to be. Judging by how her hand protectively fit around the handle of the briefcase she had been carrying, 9 could only speculate how important the contents inside had been.

Re-motivated with the recollection of five minutes ago, 9 skipped forward, admiring the way the skirt she had adorned fluttered against her thighs with perpetual motion. Her target was shy of being about 300 feet away from her right now, and if she were to disappear into one of the unpopulated side-streets that embellished this part of the city, her plan would be ruined.

Gritting her teeth for the premature premise of her plan, 9 hurried forward to congregate speed, pushed away at the broad and narrow shoulders of unwary street-goers in her path, and slammed her body, full force, into the redhead’s backside. As the crimson haired woman recuperated from the hard-wearing collision, 9’s eyes went straight to the briefcase that had sprung out of the other’s grasp and clattered brutally against the asphalt. Beside it, the emptied purse she had pocketed in advance remained. ‘Mine.’ She thought instantaneously while wrapping her dainty fingertips around the stranger’s shoulders, pretending to help alleviate the younger woman’s footing.

“I’m so sorry!” 9 exclaimed breathlessly in threadbare remorse, already removing her grasp from the other’s shoulders to discretely pick the other’s briefcase up in feigned disorientation. Once her iron grip was around the hold of the- heavier than expected –belonging, the flaxen maid spun on her heel and disappeared in the opposite direction, singing in silent victory.

[651209]

[he smiles softly at you, although the smile looks painfully forced] Hello. I'm Jongin. Kim Jongin. It's... nice to meet you.

[She detects the pitiable effort you put in promoting politeness but decides it would be in her best interest to discount it from thought] T’is nice to meet you too, Jongin. [An undersized smile distorts the arc of her lips by force, but unlike yours, it simply looks reserved before it does feigned. Take notes, boy]

Is there anything I can help you with today? Or is it habit of yours to make uncomfortable small talk with strange women?

[argography-blog]

[651209]

                 ─█ ▌  ᄃ O M M A N D  I N P U T . . .  

            ᴘ ʀ ᴏ ᴄ ᴇ s s ɪ ɴ ɢ . . .                ❢              ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ.

There were nine of us in the beginning—together. Our freedom, although unguaranteed in the future, came at the cost of Unit 12’s companionships. If all nine of us traveled together, we’d be found. Returned, and inescapably disassembled; the macabre screams of our residual humanity left without mercy. To our commanding officers and captains, we were machines privileged with the quintessence of organic life un-orchestrated by binary and software. Once bequeathed with the phenomenon of mechanized exteriors, a process which demonized our purity and weaponized our bodies, we were no longer viewed and valued as the bright, young women we initially started out as. We were Government property now, hidden from the liberated world until it needed conquering; and conquer it we did.

Until three years ago, when we were finally able to conduct our grand escape-- but that's a whole, different story for another time; should it decide to not run out.  

❢ ❢ ❢ ❢ ❢

[argography-blog]