A moment of weakness (robotsindaskies) [:'D ]
[[2. My muse is emotionally compromised and breaking down.]]
If there were any advantage to existing within’ a society virtually without fliers, it was that you were almost always guaranteed at least one relatively empty, private place if you needed space. Rooftops. A blessing for the pink bot as she vented heavily, leaning her hands against her knees in an attempt to steady herself, stop the shaking.
In-vent. She directed to herself, chiding mentally as if she were one of her own students so long ago. Count to thirteen. Ex-vent. Count to thirteen.
Arcee managed perhaps five of these cycles, desperate to calm herself, remain grounded. A numb sense of shock would have been easier to maintain in public, she knew as much, but when she tried to in-vent deeply again all that happened was a burst of quiet, hiccuping sobs, shaking her whole body. “Oh, oh-h no, no, don’t- hhk- don’t do this - h-ah-” She sobbed to herself, muffled, easing down to her knees and rubbing at her burning optics with the heels of her palms.
Everything is gone. Everyone is gone.