ESHIR

[soldieshir]

cmmanding​:

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

“It’s a lost cause,” The words trail from his lips that part into the most gentle of smiles as he stares back at her. “They’ll see it all written in the way I look to you.” Perhaps there was truth to his words, to the affection and companionship he so easily showed to Eshir. Although the words sounded too sweet even in his own mouth, although they weren’t quite a lie.

His eyes barley graze the sight of her jaw, the way it looks beneath the delicate cloth she wears each of the days. The sight’s far from jarring or grotesque as some may find it, rather all that exposed metal, those clinking parts, they painted sadness into her sight. The reminder that he couldn’t offer her more. He couldn’t make her whole.

One day. He’d tell himself.

“It’s been a long time since I closed my eyes and had a dream.” There’s a shrug on his shoulders as he lifts the beer to his lips again, too blaze truth for words that buried a heaviness that he hopes is hidden. “There ain’t much left to dream about for me I guess.” 

His softness brought her the greatest but fleeting warmth. His words, however adoring and innocent, left a sour taste. Long gone where the days when she was showered in the adoring complements of men, this was not the stinging memory. But simple affection, guileless and true, she had only known once before. She felt her mind wandering, falling, but quickly honoured his words with a simple, “You’re cute,” and gentle nudge.

His answer frustrated her. The way she saw it, he was a man with ambition. A man with intention. Drive rumbled quietly within him, visible in flashes during a mission. When his mind consumed nothing but war and strategy. So purposeful. Eshir would never achieve what she had been brought into the world to do, but Ford - always seemed like someone on the brink of majesty. Two steps away from starting his own god damn war. 

Regardless, the true content of his dreams - ambition or nightmare, she would leave them be. She stopped prying, but couldn’t resist one last poke. “I bet you dream of a cute little cottage in wheats. Birds chirping, a vegetable patch to tend to,” she giggled “that’s it isn’t it, all this fighting but all you’re really after is some peace and quiet, a slice of domestic bliss-” the thought made her laugh louder.

[soldieshir]

captain-dawnlight​: 

He nodded, at that much he understood. Iron was very aware of the weapons they build into Androids, couldn’t have those falling into the wrong hands. He felt a small tense in his muscles at how swiftly she was to raise it, but barely showed it, and his face didn’t change, he just looked at the design eagerly. It was probably the clear Iron-made that got his attention so much, because of the sleek design, the seamless connection between the metal. 

Cian gave her a confused look, surprised by the modification she had gotten, it wasn’t unheard of, it just hadn’t registered that someone would actually want that from their android. “Your husband?” he asked. He should’ve conversed with Eshir before, to learn more about her, but he kept a personal distance from most crew members. “What if he dies young?” Cian asked. Of course his mind went in a direction where he imagined how difficult it would be if Eshir suddenly shut down in the middle of a fight, she was one of their sharpest fighters after all. He followed in a nervous laugh when she noted the things about her gun. “Yeah, cool gun.” 

“Am I wrong in thinking you are not a fan of the work of Irons,” She asked him in a direct manner, although the question itself was intentionally indirect. She could have been asking about their weapons specifically, or perhaps more largely about his feeling about the City of Irons. She would be keen to know the captain’s thoughts, loyal to Irons herself, she felt political tension unavoidable in Dust. Even if some crew members no longer pledged allegiance to the city of their birth, long held grudges and conditioning sometimes came to light when discussing the most menial things. 

“Yes my husband,” she answered, defiantly with a hint of pompousness. “I haven’t always been a soldier.” She pulled at the threads of her mind, asking, begging it, not to topple and spill into memories of him. Sweet soft glances, adoration, and the fickle promise of forever. She held onto these memories with the strong clench of past love. But Cian’s question was factual, so she managed to remain engaged on that plane. 

She looked at Cian with confusion. Hadn’t she just explained herself? She didn’t read him at all. “Then I will shut down,” she said with no sadness or remorse in her voice, a proud and objective ticking time bomb. It was almost a badge of honour to her, not that such an arrangement bore any resemblance to true aged human love. Nevertheless, the anchorage between her and a human man led Eshir to believe she had achieved something most androids could not. 

[justmeg]

where: the crew’s shipyard

who: @soldieshir

Back in Dust, there was a number of items on Meg’s to-do-list, though most out of necessity or because social courtesy demanded at least the sentiment. So as she stood in front of Eshir’s trailer, the door left slightly ajar as though to taunt her, Meg found herself hesitating. It wasn’t as though there was much history between the two of them, in fact they had barely spoken more than a sentence to each other since Eshir had joined the crew and only ever treated each other with professional politeness, yet every interaction with her left Meg somewhat unsettled.

Usually, she found reassurance in reading her conversational partner; a small twitch of an eyebrow, a tuck on the corners of their mouth, what their eyes were focusing on – it all offered so much more information than words ever could with genuine honesty being the rarest trait of all.

Eshir, however, was a lot less, if at all, readable.

Meg often agonised over questions about her intentions; to what extent were they just part of a programme, technology somehow brought to life through a seemingly random assortment of numbers, and was her understanding of human emotions at all applicable? There was so much she could never hope to understand about Eshir, yet it changed nothing about the fact that she saved her life.

Thus, eyes fixed on the trailer, she inhaled deeply once more before climbing the small set of stairs. Knocking on the door frame before entering, she glanced about the space and found Eshir propped on a piece of furniture, a tablet on her lap.

“Eshir, hi.” And what was about the other way around, could the android tell that her smile was a nervous one, even though to outsiders it would look exactly the same as her polite one? “I just came to … I wanted to say that your help back during the ambush in Crash is deeply appreciated.”

If Meg had been at all accostumed to the company of androids, she’d notice that she was acting more stiff and inhuman than all of them.

[soldieshir]

Eshir delighted in turning her head towards Meg, in a fashion that couldn’t be achieved by human anatomy, on a rigid pivot. They locked eyes. “Welcome,”

Eshir had seen her around with the other crew, usually far more composed and outgoing. She was one of those crew members that dripped with an earthy regality that Eshir just couldn’t hack. Maybe other androids would settle calmly into the thought that the spirituality of Wheats was something simply inaccessible to them, an innate and truly human thing . Eshir on the other hand, was one to consider it, therefore, an illogical and simple-minded thing. If she could not fathom it, with the all the help of generations-worth of complex ai programming, it must be below her. 

Detectors informed Eshir that Meg’s heart rate may be slightly raised, her skin warm. Did Eshir make her nervous? Fantastic

She had met similar humans before, mostly those from Wheats, those who were put on edge by androids. Frustrated by this at first, these days Eshir usually took to becoming a caricature, as if she didn’t have the programming to act fully human if she wanted too. She loved to watch them observe her, as if they were half expecting sparks to fly out from her joints. 

Eshir turned her focus to Meg’s words. As someone with respect for the dignity of war, she appreciated Meg’s gratitude. But the truth was, she hadn’t thought twice about saving Meg. A soldier through and through, her days in battle were spent as a small piece of a larger organism, saving your crew-mates was second nature. Or she thought it had been, until she herself had been left. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Eshir smiled, getting up to turn herself to Meg. “We are crew mates after all,” Eshir said quietly, a sprinkle of sarcasm, keen to make it clear to Meg that Eshir didn’t consider them anything other than equals.

[soldieshir]

captain-dawnlight​:

Cian raised his eyebrows, but he said no more. Of course didn’t seem like the answer he was waiting for, but he rolled his shoulders and pretending the snobbery wasn’t registered. “Can I touch it?” he asked, something eager in his voice. He wanted to repress that part of him, the part that had grown up around technology, around mechanics, and wires, and androids like Eshir, but he couldn’t. He would watch Neela at work some times, wondering what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t chosen the path to Captain and instead turned to mechanics. 

He nodded along. Her question stopping him right then and there, and he couldn’t help the smile. “Not really. I have sharp eyes, I’m young, and I’m not too keen on being the one to start a fight. I don’t think it would do me much good. Which I understand must be surprising to you.” He paused. “What if they created human parts that could be build into Androids, would you want one of those?” Of course she wouldn’t, but he would be amused by her answer nonetheless. 

“Of course,” She said, keen to show off one of the only physical attributes she was proud of. She lifted her weapon swiftly, exposing it to him. “It doesn’t have a trigger, I just tell it to shoot-“ she explained. He looked fascinated, which she appreciated. Weapons was one of her favourite topics of conversation. 

“It does surprise me,” Eshir said, not wanting to offend him, but she hadn’t met many people who weren’t in full embrace of all technology had to offer. Trusting in the abilities of the natural world was a concept foreign to her, this lingering zeal that Eshir had also noticed was common in those crew members who came from Wheats. 

Eshir turned her mind to his question, answering matter of-factly. “I am equipped with such things,” she confessed, and then went on to explain. “My husband was keen for me to age in synchrony with him, for us to share certain human experiences. He hired the finest cybernetic programmers in the city to equip me with some human-like modifications,” she carried on explaining in an almost academic way, as if her explanation was of a mundane topic and not something potentially deeply personal. “My body is programmed to age at the same rate as his, and when he dies, I will shut down.” She finished, looking up at Cian, smiling disconcertingly. Despite these modifications, the ability to conceive of mortality on the same level as humans was not something programmed into her, the result being the unnervingly nihilistic way in which she discussed such matters. “Cool gun though hey?” she added. 

[soldieshir]

[soldieshir]

captain-dawnlight​: 

Cian raised an eyebrow slightly, finding the way she fell back into her programming to be amusing at least. She talked about war in a very different way from how humans might, with fascination. He wondered if it was her programming, or perhaps in combination with her own growth. His eyes caught the forearm and the rifle as she showed it off to him, something that reminded him of Iron. He studied it for a moment. “Is it Iron-made?” he asked, longing to touch it. Some part of his soul always eager to understand and appreciate technology, while it also put him on edge. 

The question confused him, it took him a moment to understand what she was getting at. He kept himself from biting his lip, not sure how to answer the question. As much as he felt odd in her company, he didn’t want her to think he hated androids, or that he was against cybernetics. “I’ve never been seriously injured, so it has never crossed my mind to… replace my limbs.” 

“Of course,” She replied quickly. Her snobbery about being of Iron origin coming through loud and clear. Wasn’t it obvious? with the sleek aluminium design and the neat Dellon company logo clearly embossed on the slide. She still saw herself as fully Iron made, even though by now she was probably three-quarters Dust. The thought scared her, so she reminded herself that the important parts were still Iron made. Her mind and her gun. 

“That makes sense,” she nodded, looking him up and down. “Many humans in Iron desired cybernetic parts for the sake of improvement alone. Does it not appeal to you?” She teased, inflammatory. “Maybe it would help to have a gun in your arm,” His coolness drew curiosity out in her. 

[soldieshir]

cmmanding​:

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

A fire stirs deep in the woman, something grotesque- something so painfully human despite every inch of her that protests otherwise. He understand it, that drive for something more. They all did. In their own kinds of ways, for their own reasons. Ford fought because he had nothing left to live for. He’d fight because it was all he knew. To keep pushing against the world that tried to bury him again, and again. It’s easy for him to forget sometimes, that others fight for that feeling burrowed in their bellies. Begging for the thrill. He still would be left wondering which one drove the android before him. 

“You’re a woman worth starting wars for, Eshir.” 

A smile flashes across his lips, hand on the fridge as he tosses her a can from across the room. Despite all the aching parts, he still moves so fluid across the room, so unmistakably human. Allowing the fridge door to close behind him, followed by the gentle fizz of his opening can swallows the silence that takes over the room. Ford’s eyes heavy on her own for a moment, words something distant in his mouth for he knows he closes his eyes, and all he knows are echoes. Red. Explosions. Distant cries of voices he knows too well.

He dreams of pain, before the ever engulfing nothing.

“Not much of a dreamer, myself.” He offers, the ghost of a smile still present in his features, and yet he knows there’s all too much given away in his tone. Eshir does that to him, buries into him like fingers pressing into a bruise. “To much livin’ to do in the day to spend all night dreaming for me.” 

TW GORE

“You shouldn’t let the others hear you saying things like that,” Eshir said knowingly, smirking. She knew what the average human thought of men who showed affection to androids. Sex? Fine. But affection? Friendship? Fat chance. In a past life, when she had nearly passed as human, maybe friendship with one wouldn’t have been out of the question. She can recall maybe even having some human friends. Of course, the living breathing man on her arm who looked at her so adoringly certainly helped. But now- if any human man were to show her true affection Eshir imagined he might be thought of as deluded; unable to tell real from fake, flesh from metal, living from dead. But then again, she imagined Ford didn’t much care what the others thought of him.

She pulls down the linen cover from her mouth to drink. She probably wouldn’t have done so if it hadn’t been Ford sitting with her but someone else. Her lips black, teeth moulded copper, mouth tongueless, smile glasgowed and frankensteinian. She thanked him for the drink. They sat in silence for a bit, Eshir conscious of the whirring and crackling that perfused from her throat as she drank. “You won’t even tell me about one daydream?” She teased, seeing how far she could take it. “Just one whimsical daydream Ford?”

[soldieshir]

cmmanding​:

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

He easily accepts Eshir’s words as if he believed them to be truth with a gentle nod, and something resembling a soft smile across his features. The truth was though he’d never ask for every detail from Eshir, he’d never be able to bring himself to- despite everything, ask for nothing but the truth. He didn’t like to make a habit of such things, for he knows someone with as many skeletons as himself can’t be pleading honesty from others. So he accepts her words, for he knows he’d never push her into a place where she’s forced to prove her honesty.

“Is that what you dream of? When you close your eyes?” Where Eshir’s voice is something synthetic, almost grating in the same way tacks against bitumen could be, Ford’s was something deep and carrying. Learnt to command, like crumbling rock, and heavy boots against gravel. Where the dryness that clung to him seared his throat until even that sounded hoarse.

“I’d let you take me and explore with you.” It wasn’t a lie, not quite. Ford knew he’d let her in a heart beat, just as much as he knew he longed never to go there. “We can dance at Lady Love, but no gangsters or girls for me. I’ll already be dancing with the most beautiful android in the room. And everyone there will see the same thing.” 

Standing comes easier than the motion of sitting down, as he makes his way across the room to the fridge. “Maybe the gangsters can start a war over you.” 

“Maybe they would,” She laughed, thinking deeply for a moment, “it would probably be more fun that way,” a fire in her eyes and a violence in her voice. Acknowledging this tasted sour, the admission that most of the crew had gunpowder in their bellies, a need to fight that only required the smallest spark.

She let her mind wonder back to the hypothetical night out. Her and Ford dancing. Maybe if they weren’t the way they were; rusty and dustworn, they might have looked the part. It had been a long time since Eshir looked the part.

“Is that what I dream of?” she pondered out loud, words fizzing off her electric tongue. “No” She answered solemnly. She dreamt of lying next to someone every night, hearing slow and regular breaths in the hazy hours of the morning, the sky pink. Borrowing their softness in an effort to feel alive. To feel organic. Playing a sick game of house, human and android. She didn’t tell Ford, but instead left her answer hang in the air.

“What about you?” she asked suddenly, half curious, half demanding. Surprised by her desire to continue the discussion, her and Ford usually shared an unspoken agreement that such prickly topics remained unearthed.

[soldieshir]

captain-dawnlight​:

He took inventory of what was laying behind Eshir, small moments where Cian hoped checking what they had would save his life in a future fight. His and the lives of his crew. How many guns? How many rifles, hand guns, automatic guns… how many of them would make a difference between life and death. He had seen first hand that numbers were important. He looked back up at her. Seeing her with a weapon didn’t further his edge, it was the hard stare she gave him, that typical android stare that made it clear right off the bat that she was not human. He sometimes wondered what the rest of her looked like, aside from the few glances he got, he didn’t know much. 

“In a situation gone loco?” he asked, though he suspected the answer. “A couple of flashbombs and a sand storm if I had to pick. Guess the flashbombs alone would do. Pack up and get out.” Cian had seen fights, and what he realised time and time again was that Dust was always at a disadvantage.

Eshir nodded deeply, thinking through his answer critically. A soldier after all. “Excellent idea, I have seen the flashbombs be of great use in combat” she said, still nodding. 

“These make quick response easier,” She said, bringing her arm up so the robe slipped down and revealed the slick silver rifle that was unmeshed in her forearm. It was beautifully designed, so it looked like a true part of her. Like she had always had it. She certainly acted like she had. 

She watched his expression closely. “But you wouldn’t get one would you?” She said, slyly, acknowledging the fact that in contrast to many city of dust dwellers she had met so far, he didn’t have any obvious cyborg enhancements. At least not any she could see. “I’m curious. Why not?” She asked, letting her question hang in the dry desert air. 

[kissxf-dvst]

who: @soldieshir where: the shipyard

the scattered nature of the mission passed along thus far, or at least as much as remi had been mindful of in regards to the crew making their way into neutral enough territory — all for the sake of securing an asset — only managed to keep her concern for a fleeting moment. as soon as realization hit that she’d be stuck wandering about for a time, in fact, her general excitement over the matter dissipating as soon as it might arrive. the racer was very much like a child in that regard, almost pouting when boredom struck.

she busied herself in menial ways as she laid around ‘guarding’ the shipyard. checking ammo and supply, spending precious occasions with her babies while ensuring the vehicles were properly fueled, … counting the length of time between bubbles of chewing gum finally bursting. real riveting stuff. the explosions, however, drew her eye more readily, with a race towards the edge of the yard as the second of the pair resulted in a plume far closer to home. the call from the captain, hesitant as it seemed, drew a grin all the same, cutting between painted lips as a slew of soldiers broke through in the captain’s absence. finally, finally there was something to keep her properly occupied and gods, did she ever need it. her voice rang through to her partner, now, just as thrilled as you might imagine. 

“what do you say, essie?” the query came on stroll to the nearest of vehicles, her weapons already tucked away in what little fabric her clothing provided from earlier on. “let’s have some fun, shall we?”

[soldieshir]

TW: GUNS, SHOOTING, DEATH

Eshir turned to face the threat with a fire in her eyes. Hell yeah. This was what she had been waiting for. Too excited to properly process what her partner had said she squared up to the approaching targets, her body almost becoming bigger with anticipation. She lifted an arm swiftly and shot three times, three soldiers slumped to the ground. The movement had been lighting speed and ominously accurate. Her circuits alight with joy, the programmes that were so deeply wired into her bubbling to the surface. “YeeHaw,” she yelled, finally acknowledging her partner. She wasn’t intimidated by the approaching soldiers in the slightest.

Unusually, over a dune appeared two soldiers in a sleek black vehicle, gliding over the sand. It was a glossy car, adapted for desert combat. It looked fast. Without paying any thought she fired two more confident shots from the gun imbedded in her wrist. The driver and passenger. Walking towards the car, and pulling the lifeless form from the passengers seat she sat down and called out to Remi. “C’mon baby show me what you can do,” motioning to the driver’s seat.

[soldieshir]

ironlxtus​:

At some point, between his second and fifth glass of cheap alcohol, Haeseong noticed a familiar face at the other side of the shipyard - or rather a ghost of the past that he never expected to catch up to him; the faint memories of repetitive evenings and nights suddenly became too vivid in his head, blurred faces lit up by the dim lighting and the music echoing in his head. All those nights he spent at the Lady Love, being a nameless, meaningless face behind some big name from the Black Star; an episode of being a hired gun, trying to save up for bigger dreams, bigger plans that he was meant for - and ones that led him up to this moment in which he’d stare at the woman shamelessly, idly playing with his empty glass. 

It couldn’t have been her, the girl he so vividly remembered from the club; although they barely ever talked, considering the situation they were in, he could recall almost all the words said, all of the occasions. At that time he felt bad for her, convinced that she deserved a lot more than what she was in for with that man she usually came with - not that he’d ever voice those concerns, and even if he wanted to, they disappeared one day, and he moved on too; or so he believed, and he still wasn’t sure if he liked this trip down memory lane… So at the lack of a better idea, he poured another drink before walking over to her, slightest of smiles playing on his lips.

“Hey.” He sat down in the dust in front of her, raising his drink in a greeting gesture; smile widening slightly at the question, a bit more convinced that maybe his mind wasn’t playing drunk tricks on him. Maybe it was really her? “I believe we met years ago? In Iron, we might’ve frequented the same bar at some point.”

It was him. Eshir reached out a delicate hand and with a copper finger she poked his cheek in a childlike way, without saying anything, not yet replying to his greeting. He wasn’t an android.

She paused for an awkward length of time and sat back in her chair, studying him intently. Her mind was whirling, full of embarrassment that the last time he saw her she would have looked completely different. Beautiful smooth skin, metal free, diamonds, designer furs, silk, velvet -whatever her husband had wanted. She was surprised that he recognised her, she didn’t recognise herself sometimes in the desert. 

“Eshir,” She said, putting her hand out to shake his. She had had admired his energy during the encounters they had at lady love. He has been quiet, observant and a deep thinker that much was clear. Probably why she had assumed android. She put a hand out and lifted the glass to her mouth and sipped slowly, before putting it back in front of him, the kind of quiet confidence she would have exuded buckets of at lady love. Might as well live up to her previous personality, even if her body wasn’t the same. She got straight to the point. “What shady business brought you to that god forsaken place?” She said, with a quiet smile.

[soldieshir]

cmmanding​:

『   E S H I R   』

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

Desert born, where a searing sun would tan his skin and weather it from hours exposed. And red dust would crawl its way into all his hinges, and suffocate him when the wind stirs and kicks it up. Now those metal parts to him rust to the same colour of copper, and dried blood- the same way he’d remember his grazed hands when he was young. Hauling scrap metal home, rust flaking against his skin, and tears in his flesh looking less and less human as the days go by.

He’d know it, that they weren’t the same. Humans, androids, cyborgs. He knew he was neither human nor ai, just as he knew the more the years went on the less he was if either. But what he did know, was just how the same they all were. Fighting soldiers made of metal, and those of flesh and bone, and bullets passed them all the same. The same pain crawls across their gaze- the same fear reflects those battlefields. Eshir wasn’t human, just as he wasn’t human. But that didn’t mean he could leave her there, decaying in a place where she didn’t belong.

Dust to dust. She didn’t deserve such a cruel fate.

“Sleeping on the job are we?” His tone offering a gentle tease as he walks closer to her, before settling himself into the seat beside her. A slow movement, his knee creaking into the position, as he looks over, a soft smile on his features. “Or were you thinking something you ain’t gonna tell me?”

He sat down next to her, creakily. The two of them sitting there, the creaky pair. More metal than flesh between them and yet she looked at him with a humanity in her eyes that few people were lucky enough to see. “Theres not a lot I wouldn’t tell you Ford,” she said through a smile, and it was true. He has already seen her at her most vulnerable, severed and dying, what more were words to him?

“Truth be told I was,” her voice pure synth and inconsistency, Ford was over it mind you. It was sometimes nice to just turn the screen to black, instead of the deafening ochre of the city of dust. Howling yellow and rust filled your vision wherever you looked in this dry place, and looking at Ford was no exception, a man who looked almost a part of the landscape sometimes. 

She let out a mechanical exhale and hunched over her knees, her fists propping up her chin. “I would like to take you to Irons one day.” She said quietly, looking out into the sand, trying to approximate the point at which red earth became red sky. “Take you out for a fancy dinner - we could have sushi or tapas. And then maybe a drink at Lady Love, you could eye up the gangsters and meet the girls. We could go dancing. I know you’d hate it but, at least you would see what I used to be like.” She said, rambling a little bit, her voice chipping away and her jaw churning unnaturally as she spoke more words than her body usually permitted her too. She felt the silence and changed the subject. “How about a beer?”

[soldieshir]

Starter for: @kennedy-maddox

Location: Shipyard

It was clear from the outset that Eshir and the woman in front of her had not a lot in common. They stood in front of a table of weapons, waiting for them to be allocated. Eshir stood tall and statuesque, the hot City of Dust sun heating her copper limbs through her robes.  

Eshir observed the woman next to her quietly, she had an earthiness to her that was alien. She also held an energetic frequency that was unavailable to Eshir. The way people commanded themselves around her, Eshir was sure the word the people would use would be magic. Eshir was not devoid of emotion or spirituality, she was well versed and educated in these things, but the feeling of magic was something she was not capable of appreciating. This inaccessibility put Eshir on the defensive. “Are your people trained to use these?” She asked, inflammatory and curious at the same time, running her hand over an assault rifle comfortably. 

[soldieshir]

Starter for: @ironlxtus

Location: Shipyard

TW: Hallucination, Illness

Eshir sat on her own in the shipyard, plastic chair tilted back against one of the trailers, watching the crew members interact. Perhaps she would have liked to be more social, but at this moment she was having huge trouble with a glitch that was making it very difficult to engage in reality. Her vision went from black, blink, zoomed in, blink, double vision and she couldn’t focus properly. Glitches, since the explosion, had become frequent and weighed on her. She usually lay down and prayed some deeply imbedded remnant of a City of Irons software would surface and allow her to fix herself. 

A figure approached her, and she recognised the familiar face. Within the context of the glitching, she didn’t take his presence for what it was. During these glitches, random memories and figures were often thrown into her minds eye, often a figure of her imagination. This particular figure she knew from Lady Love. Her mind cast back to countless evenings spent in the dimly lit club, music thumping, handfulls of money exchanged under table tops. She had spent these evenings mostly silent, standing solidly behind her man, her hand on his shoulder. She would laugh charmingly at the right moments, and she would, of course, be primed to attack if any trouble came along. She knew more about her ex-husband’s under the table deals than the other mafia that frequented Lady Love probably imagined she did. But he had been there- the familiar face- also sat silently, also quietly watching. And here he was, in the desert. Greeting her. She blinked, blackness, she blinked again and he was closer. “Don’t I know you?” She said abruptly, keen to establish whether he was a vision or a real person. 

[soldieshir]

captain-dawnlight​:

Androids weren’t new, watching them move wasn’t new. It all reminded him of simpler times, before going out into the desert, when they were part of daily life. When whenever he walked through the city neon lights welcomed him, when he would see Cyborgs and Androids on every street corner, when his father’d had one who did administrative work for him. He stared at Eshir and couldn’t help feeling awkward, and at the same time tried to imagine her before she was taken by the desert, when she was the newest model imaginable. He almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She set him on edge because androids were supposed to be perfection, technological creations that showed BETTER human beings. She was not that, he realised every single time they talked. 

“Just the hand-guns, unless if things really end up going loco, then you are good using the larger weapons as well. But I am not counting on it,” he shared, keeping his voice low. “Though I don’t get paid for making assumptions.” He offered.

Eshir heard a falter in his voice. Did she put him on edge? This was a new phenomena, making humans nervous, a little gift from the brutality of the explosion. Unusual though, for a captain, and a captain like him at that. Having watched him address the whole crew a number of times now, she found it hard to imagine anything putting him on edge. 

She traced the barrel of one of the larger guns with a slender finger, the familiarity exciting her. One of the few things she had managed to keep from the explosion was the gun built into her forearm, a sleek model from the City of Irons. For the most part she kept it hidden under layers of robes. Nevertheless, it meant she wasn’t seriously concerned about the availability of larger weapons. She picked one of them up, feeling the weight of it. She felt it comfortable in her grip, and swiftly moved it into a raised and pointed positioning, enjoying the old feeling, the muscle memory. As quickly as she had picked it up she put it down. “They will be perfect for if things go loco-” she replied matter-of-factly looking him straight in the eye. “I’m interested, which would you choose in that situation?” She pondered out loud.

[soldieshir]

Location: Shipyard

To: @cmmanding

TW: GORE

Eshir sat in the shipyard by the firepit. To an onlooker, she must have looked as though she was entranced by the flames, sitting mesmerised. The truth was a neat android programme meant she could disconnect her eyes and keep them open, useful for moments of deep undisturbed thought. Her posture was visible under layers of deep navy calico robes, taught and perfect, a giveaway. She had a thick piece of cloth draped from ear to ear, covering her smile of copper. In Eshir’s mind, this made the sound of her voice more palatable, not being able to see the accompanying metal teeth clash together, but the sound was so alien no amount of fabric could truly obscure it from what it was.

Motion sensors triggered her eyes to start feedbacking again, as she looked up to greet the man approaching her. The second in command. Eshir’s eyes lit up. Her mind was wrenched back to the memory of him heaving her half severed body up onto the back of a truck that dreaded day. Had he left it a couple more hours, the pain would have convinced her to resist his rescue and demand she be left for dead. If she could have shivered, she would have done.

Ford had a metal shoulder, which was obviously desert made. No City of Irons resident would be seen sporting such materials. The fact that they had this in common brought out a childlike excitement in Eshir. This excitement was cute but mislead, no amount of modification could make a human truly have much in common with an android unfortunately. His metal shoulder versus her metal brain and heart. 

Her excitement upon seeing a familiar face prompted her to uncharacteristically call out to him, “Ford, hey,” - but the sound was blindingly electric, she was sure he wouldn’t be able to understand.

[dramatizaciones]

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