So bestie ( @quilandscroll ) decided to engage my neurons by paying me for a surprise commission (or two) of her robot, Vistor, and I love this guy’s design so much I just really wanted an excuse to dress him up and make him snazzy. Of course I also had to include her Runner-sona (she doesn’t have a name yet but I’ve been calling her Vira/Veera in my head) that’s getting a ref sheet once I have her design down; to do that I had to draw her a bit and that’s how I figured out her skin and hair color as well as seeing how the vitiligo looked.
Safe to say, stunning.
This one was suppose to be simple shading but I’m a slut for the lights and colors and darkness and the vibe was so much better with the lighting that looks like a club setting or dim room. I love their chemistry, too, and it was a great excuse to work out how the ‘prosthetics’ look.
(No, the shading doesn’t make logical sense, it’s all vibes)
It’s also here that I realize my watermark still has my old username and I really need to fix that 🫠
*banging pots and pans* NEW LESBIAN ROBOTS. well. cyborg woman Camila and alien robot Galahad. Camila is an ambassador for humanity and Galahad is her appointed bodyguard/observer.
Galahad is absolutely delighted and fascinated by humans bravery despite their relative vulnerability and tendency to die <3
A neo metropolis, with the skyscrapers and glittering lights; tonight was lit up with blinding aerial spotlights, and you were not supposed to be in this part of town.
Well, you lived in an...unsavory section of the city, but to get to the well-off friend of yours, you opted to take the rooftop shortcut you had planned. Because otherwise, it was streets crawling with human traffickers, drug dealers, or rogue Synths. And don't forget plain old feral dogs and cats.
An aircraft crept by overhead, beaming an intense light down at the winding streets and cluttered rooftops of the city. They were looking for something, no doubt. More like someone, rather. You dropped down from your balcony onto the roof below, your boots hitting the wet concrete with a heavy thud. It was rainy there. It seemed like every other night it was drizzling rain, or even pouring, and then left the next morning wet and muggy that in the cramped streets with all the bodies, it was almost hard to breathe.
But you aren't the type to complain. It is what it is, you thought—but you spotted a Synth patrolling the restricted area across the street from you, and you ducked down behind an exit stairwell. Best not to get caught skulking around up there with the guards nearby; it only made you a "subject of interest".
"ID number 6245," a slightly metallic voice called out, "you are approaching a restricted area."
You sighed and reluctantly stepped out from behind the structure, hyper-aware of the chip in your body that displays your official information. You met the tall android who stood attentively on the opposite roof, rifle in hand.
"I'm not even out of bounds!" you yelled back, irritated by the fickle synth. "Or...in bounds." You were getting close to encroaching the boundaries, but you walked the line carefully as you traveled your shortcut, so far having been stopped by the same Synth every time. One which you had conversed with multiple times before, always starting with him halting you for getting close.
"This is a warning," the robot responded, "any closer and you will be tresspassing private property, 6245."
"I have a name, you know," you answered in a chuff. Not that he would listen.
Across from you was no man's land (so to speak), restricted areas that only the owners and their associates could access.
You stole a glance behind you to make sure you weren't fixing to walk off the edge of the building and took a few steps back, watching the imposing metal man carefully. He was tall and broad with a silver finish, slim eyes that never blinked and was always watching.
Watching you.
"What happens if I step any closer?" you asked curiously, testing the waters. You put a teasing foot forward, and he left his usual rigid position, lowering the rifle slightly as if in contemplation.
The silence spoke for itself, you thought; and that lowered gun, too, of course. So you took another step forward with trepidation, inching ever closer to the edge of the building.
No shot.
"Why do you test these boundaries, 6245?" he asked.
"Why do you let me?"
He took a pause and his gaze fell a bit distant, staring off at nothing in particular beside you. His stance was tall and almost stern, but this unusual air of unknowing on his end softened his disposition. They weren't hard and cold as AI had once been, well on the road to achieving perhaps their own unique set of feelings. Made to be nearly human but almost indestructible; like an upgrade to humanity.
Turning back to you, he straightened, "I do not know. Maybe you interest me."
A smile crept onto your face. This one was one of the oddballs.
"Perhaps I'll come test my boundaries next week, then!" you said, adjusting your hood, "and we'll see each other again."
There was a bright yellow flash in his eyes, a signal of recognition and processing, before he lifted his gun and went back to patrol.
You slinked off into the stairwell, feeling revitalized by the strange yet welcome interaction. It was not unheard of, but not common, either.
It was the start of something new.
_________________________________________
Tis again, something short and vague, so that I may or may not build upon it later. Give me your thoughts on this little robot romance blossom!
“I can’t believe she actually sent us outside. What are we, kids?” Moon grumbled to himself, sitting on the grass, knees pulled up to his chest. With mild disdain, he observed Sun as the golden bot did a stretching routine, running pre-performance diagnostics in preparation for whatever he planned to do next. Moon knew this without needing their Lock to tell him, as Sun’s eyes were cycling from teal to cyan to seafoam and back again in line with the check doing its job by micro-adjusting Sun's internal components from idle to show mode.
With a light smile, stretched out on one foot to check his lateral balance, Sun started, “Well, to some degree–” but got cut off by a displeased groan.
“I’m not being technical, Sun,” Moon shot back, elbows on his knees. “I know we don’t have a lot of up time or even a lot of real-world experiences so we might as well be kids, but we’re programmed with the equivalent mindset of an adult. We don’t need to be babysat or told by ‘mom’ to go play outside while she’s in the kitchen.”
Raising a brow, Sun slowly pivoted his hip, bringing his knee up to his chest. “I was going to say to some degree we’re behaving like children.” Moon scowled at him, which only made him grin more and add teasingly, “But I didn’t think you were coming to see Jenn as our mother~”
It was only for a moment, but Sun’s chroma-sensitive lenses detected a hue shift in his beloved brother’s face--from deep navy to rich purple--as the embarrassment hit him. “I do not!” If the chromatic shift didn’t give away his chagrin, the waver of his voice would have.
“Then why’re you so grouchy we got sent outside, oh brother of mine?” Sun extended his leg above his head, then slowly leaned back into a bend before finishing it as a full flip. Once he was on his feet again, he repeated the move with his other leg.
“I just said–” Catching himself, Moon narrowed his gaze toward his brother, whose face was scrunched in a poor effort to hide his amusement. “You’re being a dingus.”
Finishing his second maneuver, Sun changed the last step into a full split, sliding into the grass with barely a sound; he leaned forward, holding onto his knee to provide a pull that would relax his inner impact mechanisms. Stretching wasn’t really something they absolutely needed, unlike human performers, however many high-end Task Managers, particularly those with a focus on physical effort, had a complex system of metal-and-fluid pseudo-muscles under their shells that worked to grant them an immense range of motion and a high strength-to-mass ratio. While delicate and necessitating specialized workers to repair and maintain, these systems have grown more common in recent years due to their ability to double up on and protect the etherylle system that provided power and information to the rest of the body, working incredibly well with tactile sensors and the other micro-adjusting features of modern robotics to give the individuals with them an almost human level of touch sensitivity and action limitation.
The technology itself has been difficult to integrate into human reconstructive body modifications–-or HumCons as some call them-–due to the haptics often conflicting with natural nerve endings, but that wasn’t an issue when all of one’s body was a machine. Because of the intricacy of the systems working together, while not being absolutely necessary, it was advised that pseudo-muscle systems be eased into high-intensity work by ‘stretching’ them. Long, slow, repetitive engagement of the haptic sensors would cause a reaction in the systems that loosened the inner stability membrane, allowing it more flexibility thus increasing the hydraulic tension or torque it could withstand and deliver without seizing or tearing. In a way, it prevented mechanical muscle tearing and enhanced performance quality in a way–-though Sun simply did it out of habit and because he enjoyed the mental quiet it brought him through focusing on his internal mechanics. The steady release of tension at his joints paired with his cyclical exhaust intake was meditative, which he welcomed happily to ease the tension of the days prior, dulling it to a more manageable buzz in the furthest corners of his mental space.
While also enjoying a good stretch and tumble, Moon didn’t intend to join his brother purely out of spite for being told to do so; Jenn was not their owner and a part of him wanted to challenge her authority just on principle by defying her. He knew it was only because he felt he could get away with it–-pettiness was becoming rather enjoyable to express for once-–though the same part of his personality that wanted to be bratty also somewhat welcomed the possibility of retaliation. It would prove he was right and hopefully show Sun that this human, however altruistic she seemed, was no better than the one they ran from. Not worth attachment.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Moon’s attention pulled itself from his internalized moping to focus on Sun, who was still stretching, this time with his legs in a wide V and him nearly flat on his belly in the grass, chin on his forearms. It was such a normal scene to him, Moon almost forgot for a moment they weren’t in the garden at the estate; how Sun was able to relax and go about such a normal activity in a strange place was beyond him at this point. “You could know already if you wanted,” the navy bot answered after a pause, noticing Sun’s eyes had stopped flashing, meaning he was done calibrating and was now just laying like that for his own sake.
“I like it when you tell me.”
Limiting the use of their Lock’s communication features was something they’d agreed on not long after arriving at their designated ‘home’--partly because openly sharing their thoughts and feelings fostered a sense of trust while providing a boundary of privacy between them, and partly because they were chastised heavily for being ‘silent and secretive’ with each other more than once. By now, he knew Sun wouldn’t just pry into his mind without good reason, even if it would make communicating intent between them easier. Huffing, Moon relented. “I know. It wasn’t anything important.”
“You were making a face.”
Moon’s brow creased. “No, I wasn't.”
“Yes, you were.” Sitting up slowly, Sun stretched his back, pulling his legs in so he was seated between his own calves. “You were scowling and staring off into space.”
“I was not.”
“So your face is just like that?”
As if proving a point, Moon scowled deeply, glowering at his brother’s playful grin. “I’m going to get you if you keep that up,” the nocturnal brother warned, subtly shifting his weight in preparation to lunge.
“I stand by my observation,” Sun insisted, pointing to his own face while frowning mockingly. “You’re lucky we can’t wrinkle like a human or you’d have scowl lines.”
“Sun,” Moon urged, trying and failing to keep his expression from twisting into a grin.
“And with your complexion those lines wouldn’t do you any favors–”
A fraction of a second. Sun turned his head for just a moment, barely catching the tell and intent of Moon’s feet rocking him forward; pushing off with his legs, the lanky robot managed to flop out of the way by a hair as his brother’s hands hit the grass. The awkward position did him no favors in keeping balanced; tucking into a backroll, Sun sprang to his feet, smiling brightly.
Moon pushed up with his hands as he came into contact with nothing, pivoting to land on his own feet with a solid thud, already crouched and waiting without giving an opening to be exploited. Bright against his dark facial mold, Moon’s teeth flashed in his own grin. “There’s better ways to get me to play you know.”
“Do you want me to ask?” Sun retorted, watching as Moon began to side step slowly and matching him beat-for-beat.
“It would give me a chance to get ready, at least.”
“But you never need to get ready like I do~”
Moon rolled his eyes briefly, knowing it was somewhat true as he was always quicker to shift into performance mode simply by deciding it, not needing the stretching for anything more than keeping pace with Sun as he got ready. “I still enjoy the activity.” He chanced a step forward; Sun met it with a step back.
“You could have but you decided to mope instead.”
Moon’s weight dipped to one side–-Sun’s eyes darted there, anticipating him to step that way.
Catching the flicker of attention, Moon’s feint was successful–-he swung the other direction, rushing the gap in a single stride. Sun staggered at the change, failing to back away; pivoting on the ball of his foot, Moon gave a sweeping kick with his off leg. Going low, the move sailed over Sun’s head with plenty of distance.
Neither planned to hurt the other. Playful dance-fighting was simply a game.
With his full weight behind it, Moon was able to carry himself over Sun entirely, landing on his feet with another graceful thud. While distracted and back exposed, the daylight bot could only just avoid his brother’s grasp as Moon ducked down and swung at him, palm open, aiming for his head. Reflexively, Sun used his forearm to move Moon’s wrist away and step back again; Moon’s knee came up between them just as Sun shifted back, which got the darker bot to laugh a bit.
“You’ve gotten good at reading me,” he mused, earning a flicker of Sun’s radials in response. “But it’s still not enough to actually keep up.”
The triumphant grin on Sun’s face faded instantly, radials retracting a bit as he saw the shift in Moon’s demeanor-–from the way he balanced his center of gravity to the thin smirk on his lips that replaced the flash of a smile. Another kick–-forward round–-aimed to the head.
Sun ducked by dropping one leg to a crouch; his eyes widened as the attack passed overhead but Moon didn’t carry through, dropping forward in a blink to his hands. Springing back, both feet together, Moon forced Sun to jump again or risk having the entire mass of his sturdier brother driven into him. Barely, the golden bot avoided the collision, landing in a squat.
Without missing a beat, Moon let his momentum drift down, allowing him to sweep a kick out before either had genuinely recovered their balance. Using his hands to catch himself, Sun let the sweep take his feet out before springing back into another crouch and leaping up to make distance. Moon was on him though, having anticipated the recovery move.
Grabbing Sun’s long arm at the wrist and bicep, pressing in the way that his elbow didn’t go, Sun was trapped, forced into a spin as Moon swung him around while he didn't have his balance. This motion let Moon alter his grip while keeping Sun under control until the taller bot was forced into an awkward bend, arm twisted behind him in a way that kept his body off center. Using his shoulder for leverage, Moon pushed two fingers against the nape of Sun’s neck-–the ‘warning shot’ that indicated victory.
“Okay! Okay! I give! I give!” Sun yelped, teetering dangerously as he tried to keep upright under the uncomfortable grip.
Immediately, Moon released his brother, bringing his arm under Sun’s chest to keep the gangly bot from tipping over entirely. Pleased with himself, Moon mused, “Getting better but still not ready for me to be serious.”
Making a face, Sun shrugged, playing up his disappointment at losing. “I still don’t understand when you learned to do that. It’s not like sparring was something we were asked to do.”
Dusting a bit of grass off Sun’s shoulder, Moon shrugged back. “From what I figured, dancing and fighting aren’t that different, it’s just intent. When you touch someone while dancing it’s gentle and non-violent. Fighting is just dancing but you want to hurt the other person.”
Grimacing, Sun’s rays flitted and returned to normal. “If you say so.” He held his hands out. “Do you want to actually dance now?”
The amusement left Moon’s face for a moment. “Sun–”
Flexing his hands in a ‘give’ motion, Sun insisted. “Please? It’s been so long, it feels like. I need to recalibrate, right? It’ll be easier if I have you with me.”
Relenting, Moon sighed, smile returning tiredly. “Alright, you have a point I suppose.”
Delighted, Sun bounced in place a bit, grabbing onto Moon’s hands to drag him into the middle of the yard. Through their link, they could find a melody they both knew without needing actual music. Agreeing on it wasn’t hard, they had a few shared favorites, Moon simply felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar environment. Dancing took focus which he’d need to keep aware of the area–-not that he was doing that while they tussled just moments ago, which felt good but the persistent eyes he thought he sensed all around were getting bothersome. He was still uncertain how many cameras this area had, how much privacy they were genuinely afforded–-if the human wasn’t remotely observing them when she wasn’t in direct line of sight of them.
If something happened, would he be able to handle it if he was distracted?
Yet Moon couldn’t fight the desire to dance with his brother. To have those few minutes of peace within their own connection. The one thing that was solely theirs. It would strengthen their Lock, which was always their default priority, so it was practical at least.
A snort escaped him as Sun pulled him to the spot in the yard that had been decided on. Practical.
When did he start needing to justify dancing as practical ?
~
Under the clattering of dishes and utensils a hum bounced through the air, occasionally broken up by rhythmic popping and tongue clicking. It wasn’t without method or reason but to an observer they would only hear the odd sounds coming from the human unprompted, her ears covered by blue headphones that dampened outside noise while masking the music she was wrapped up in. In an effort to calm her own mind, Jenn opted to drown her thoughts out by burying them in her musical library, willfully putting herself into a state of forced focus that ignored everything outside her immediate task. Too many things needed to be accounted for, too many details begged for her to rip them apart into molecular detail–-Jenn had to stop herself before she got overwhelmed by her own bad habits.
She would help them. They would leave. Back to normal. Clear conscience.
Over and over she told herself that whenever her mind strayed to questions. While she hated not having answers, by this point the loner human had determined anything more was a hazard to her safety. In this rare instance, the less she knew, the safer she would be.
I still want to know though, the echo of her thoughts purred, tempting her to the rabbit hole of barbed wire and glue.
Shaking her head to clear it, Jenn focused on the lyrics of the song that currently vibrated her skull, hands working to chop up starchy roots for drying. Under her breath, she sang along, working through her pile of foraged goods to get them ready for later use. She needed to get this done before she wasted perfectly good edibles by forgetting they existed for a week while unpeeling the mysteries she found herself wrapped up in.
I can’t believe I forgot they were in the yard.
Cheeks burning, Jenn shook her head again.
They heard me singing.
She turned the volume up.
I mean, they didn’t say it was bad but they totally believed I was a creature of the forest.
Mental sabotage. Mutiny!
They’re out in the yard right now. Should I check on them?
No, they weren’t babies. She swept the chunks of starch onto a wicker flat and shoved it into the rafters to dry among the spices and herbs.
From the kitchen table she used as a booster, Jenn’s eyes caught movement and flicked to the window. Blue and yellow blurs spun across the yard, taunting her for a closer peek. Against her better judgment, the human clamored over to the glass portal, watching the paired robots as they flowed, jumped around and passed each other in coordinated motions. None of it matched the song currently playing in her ears, but it didn’t matter that much, as Jenn barely felt what had devolved into little more than muddled noise as she analyzed her guests.
“Fascinating,” she breathed, watching the trail of motion and energy the pair exchanged as the lead position shifted from the Moondrop to the Sunrise-–she could just barely tell based on who moved first and how at a given time. Locks were something Jenn was familiar with, along with the various sorts of ‘lesser’ grade model on the market; it was a known but unspoken fact among the inhabitants of the wilds of Azil that there was a direct relationship between the market grade of a companion and the rate of ‘rogueness’ they experienced upon gaining awareness. A fact that might make it a bit difficult for the two of them to be accepted amongst their own if they tried to integrate into a colony.
Not that I care, Jenn mused to herself while watching Moon easily swing Sun around himself in a fancy lifting technique. They could stay here and it wouldn’t make a difference if they were copper or goldlight–
She paused, looking away from the window.
That’s dumb and risky. Frowning at herself, the echo in her mind whispered, Then again, I could study them more if they stayed. Wapping herself on the forehead a few times, Jenn got down from the table. “No, no, bad Jenn! They’re not lab rats. Do not get attached.” Her tongue tapped the corner of her mouth. “I haven’t gotten to really look into their models though–” She clapped herself on the cheeks, voice straining, “STOOOOOPPPPPP!” with a deep rumble of frustration. “Science is for sleepers, and they are not asleep!”
Pulling off her headphones, Jenn took a moment to wet a clean cloth and wipe her face down, then her neck and shoulders; the cold water gave her a mild shock that broke the rampant cycle of cognitive dissonance that had started, granting her a chance to breathe. To think clearly. “Drag my inherent curiosity,” the human mumbled after a moment, squeezing the rag out and putting it over the towel rack to dry.
Regardless of the grade disparity and their mysterious origins, the Sunrise and Moondrop were, for all intents and purposes, still that. The materials were rare, sure, and the other features begged a lot of questions she didn’t feel safe answering, but fundamentally they were still what they were made to be: entertainers. Fancy toys, in a sense, made for the rich. Things that she–-and people like her–-would be incredibly unlikely to interact with, let alone own, a day in their lives simply due to station.
‘Stars shine for everyone but there is only one place for Uls.’
While the original meaning had long been broken and reassembled over the years, the intention remained consistent: you only get the good things when you’re lucky. It was something her parents often disparaged in her youth whenever news outlets pushed stories of ‘rogue robots’ upending construction projects or stealing from convoys. ‘Luck’ had nothing to do with how one should be treated.
But it did have a hand in where you started in life, Jenn felt, and that made a huge difference in how one turned out.
She was lucky by way of having loving parents that encouraged her interests as a child. There were many who could not claim the same even in her own neighborhood when growing up. Despite their job stations, the three of them were not lucky enough, however, to be wealthy; the fantasy of having a companion with the form and features of anything above Silver class was merely smoke and wishful thinking, though she knew now as an adult it had less to do with the economic state of her hometown and more with her parents’ morals and decisions. Those same ethics remained with her, even now, far from that place and the memories it held.
One could see these two immaculately crafted dancers turning somersaults in the grass and assume they were very lucky to be what they are-–Jenn herself was guilty of that very thought initially. Made to do nothing, living in leisurely apartments and condos, enjoying the finer parts of life that others could only dream of having. Running away from that? A fool’s errand. A choice made by the ignorant and naive…
… according to the jealous and shortsighted.
What would make a companion run away from a life of simplicity and excess? Jenn pondered rhetorically, having a general idea bubbling in the corners of her mind that made her gut twist as she put her headphones back on. Given what she knew about E’rta? It wasn’t good–-made worse knowing that they had been there for months, living their entire waking lives among the upper echelons of a city that had what could be generously considered a ‘divisive’ history.
E’rta was a city built on the backs of liars and the bones of the unlucky.
Of course it ends up being me that has to help this situation, a stray thought piped in as Jenn pulled down some glassware jars from a cabinet, placing them in the sink. I promise myself not to get involved in local politics and here I am harboring the runaways of some rich schmuck on the bad end of a political offense–-or worse yet, a military officer who really likes his toys being spicy or the thrill of abusing his power.
Kneeling to another cabinet, Jenn fished out a container that worked as a heat bath, setting it up absently to sanitize her jars for canning. Rinse, place, rinse, place-–she filled the well with glass jars and their matching lids, then poured a bit of water in and sealed it up, letting the heat bath steam up so they’d be ready for fermentable goodies. Music thrummed, slowly pushing away the deeper thoughts that wanted her attention.
It doesn’t matter, she firmly reminded herself. They wanted to leave, they have that right. The rest is up to them to figure out. I’m not their mother.
One thought still lingered, wiggling its way past the barrier of sound she filled her mind with.
A Goldlight class was already rare enough in the wilds; being able to afford such high end parts often included a lifestyle that was hard to justify leaving. Doubled with their particular type being the most expensive–-Sunrise and Moondrop–-the odds gave Jenn pause.
Had she ever met either of those kinds before in the wilds?
Despite the assumption that Goldlight and Quicksilver came from a quality of life considered envious, she had met a few here and there–-a Lune who’d grown tired of always being in the middle of patrons fighting in front of the club his owner ran, a Dawn who’d been replaced as a tutor after a bug in her update messed with her ability to add or modify new lesson plans for her students, a bizarre trio of two Days and a Night that had taken to burglary after their owner suddenly lost their job due to economic issues–-but never a Sunrise or a Moondrop of any class. Not even a whisper. Too rare to have proper sample size, as her father would say.
But both? A bonded pair, even, with Goldlight features–-and then some–-and the most complex array of mental components she’d seen outside of excavation teams and Nebula-class processors.
They might not have had a chance, the whisper added, reminding her of the tracking chips installed in the pair that she’d pried out and discarded before bringing them back online. Perhaps others just never had an opportunity to venture far before getting returned?
Not everyone was lucky enough to find help when they needed it, unfortunately.
Sighing, Jenn lifted her chin so she was gazing at the ceiling. In her mind she was thinking of the sky and the yellow-green shimmer of the aurora overhead, the roof itself barely being an obstacle in her visualization. “Somehow,” she muttered mostly to herself, “this is your fault. I just know it.”
A noise to her left got her attention–-a dark shape lingered in the doorway.
Yelping, Jenn jumped back from the counter, catching her heel on a stack of books. The shape darted toward her–-her wrist was grabbed firmly before she could topple, pulling her upright.
A flash of concern slipped from Moon’s face, replaced by a smug grin as he realized he’d startled her. Whipping her headphones off, Jenn barked, “FOR THAKK’S SAKE–!” but he only chuckled at her, relaxing his grip.
Amused, Moon countered, “I knocked before entering,” while leaning against the table with his arms folded. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention.”
Heart pounding from the whole event, Jenn took a measured breath, curbing her initial spark of her temper because he was right-–it was her fault for turning her music up too loud. “Okay, yeah, fine, you got me-–what do you need?”
Eyes darting over the current state of the kitchen and only coming away confused at what was going on, Moon’s gaze lingered on Jenn a moment.
/MD-Diagnostic assessment: Subject_Jenn%//
>Symptoms noted:
>>Elevated heart rate_
>>Cold sweat_
>>Flushed skin_
>>Presence of under eye bags_
>>Heavy breathing_
/Results indeterminate//
Moon briefly forgot what he was there for and instead asked, “Are you feeling alright?” out of directive-prone habit.
Jenn squinted at him with confusion, righting herself now that she could breathe calmly. “Yeah? Why?”
An inquisitive arch of a brow gave a silent question.
Deflecting the suspicion, Jenn rolled her eyes. “You just scared the pants off me, don't think too hard on it.” Disbelieving her but unwilling to prod, Moon only grunted dismissively. “Seriously, what do you want? Is he alright?” Faintly she gestured at the window to indicate Sun, her voice holding a genuine thread of worry.
“He’s fine,” Moon replied neutrally though a very slight turn of his lips remained, as he was still amused by getting the drop on her, accident or not. “But he is why I'm here terrorizing you.” Jenn’s lips pursed at his tease. “Stupid question, but do you have anything we can borrow that could work like a balance beam? Sun doesn’t think he’s being challenged enough to recalibrate properly. Assuming you know what–”
Cutting into his jab, Jenn snapped, “I know what a balance beam is,” earning a deflecting gesture, his hands raising. One of you is challenged plenty and it’s not sunshine, she added to herself, knowing he was being snarky on purpose; funnily enough it gave her an idea, her own mouth curling in a smug grin. “And I’ll even do you one better.”
Moon couldn’t tell if he was curious or suspicious of her intentions. Probably both.
~
“What in Azil’s shell is this?”
Neither brother knew what they were looking at for a moment aside from massively overgrown shrubs and climbers that had won the battle against whatever was underneath them, the clearing full to bursting with foliage and creeping vines twisting in and out of tree branches and structures of metal and rope that must have served a purpose before the plant Armageddon arrived. Jenn herself seemed perturbed as they arrived at the edge of the leafy wall after a few minutes of trekking through the forest at her behest, one hand rubbing the back of her head confusedly. “Well, it was my training course,” she answered after a moment, Moon feeling more confused than before. “I knew I forgot something when I got home.”
“Training course?” the navy bot inquired. Beside him, Sun knelt down and grabbed a leaf from the dense cloud of green wrapping around their feet, giving it a gentle squeeze and finding it plush and bouncy.
“Uh, yeah.” Even the human found her words hard to believe for a moment.
“Training for what ?”
Casting a glance at the nosey blue robot, Jenn raised a brow. “Well, unlike you I have to actually maintain my fitness levels.” Moon’s eyes glinted brightly at her sarcasm. “Don’t let the overgrowth fool you,” she added on, kneeling next to Sun and pulling a coil of greenery out of the ground with little resistance. “Trusslin is a very fast growing plant, leave it be long enough and it’ll overtake an area in a matter of weeks. I must have forgotten to come trim it back.”
“It’s soft,” Sun commented, adding the data to his collection of plants.
“Ain’t it?” she mused, grabbing another handful.
“Why not just get rid of it?” Moon wondered, tilting his head while studying one of the overgrown structures.
“Cuz it happens that a carpet of trusslin is really great for breaking falls,” Jenn replied, standing up and pressing a leaf against Moon’s face, causing him to lean away. The leaf dropped onto his shoulder, causing him to pick it up and pause, rubbing it between his fingers; the leaves were velvety and gave way slightly, as if they were little pillows of air that had deflated just a tad. “It’s not gonna stop you from eating shekt if you fall from too high, but I’ve avoided quite a few broken bones because of this stuff. Grows like crazy if it’s light enough and forms natural curls in the stems that tangle together like a net. Just, uh…” She waved her hand over the mess. “Gotta keep up on pruning.”
Taking the leaf from Moon, who was done playing with the plant scrap, Sun squished it between his fingers, trying to contain a giggle. “What do you do with the trimmings?” he wondered, lifting the leaf toward his brother’s face, causing him to lean away slightly.
“Uh…” Thinking for a moment, Jenn counted with her fingers. “Compost, fodder, mulch… there’s no nutritional value unfortunately, and it doesn’t taste like anything, but you can dry them and they stay puffy and soft so I like to use the unbroken ones as scrub pads sometimes, otherwise they’re great padding for pillows and stuff.”
Grabbing Sun’s wrist and shooting him a glare when the leaf returned to his personal bubble, Moon snatched it from his brother’s grasp and dropped it out of reach; Sun only grinned mischievously back at him. “So I’m guessing if we want to use this stuff, we need to cull the overgrowth?” he asked as his other hand moved to stop Sun from putting a vine on his head.
“Unfortunately,” Jenn sighed, turning to face them. “I’ll get a bag and my trimmers and be right back.”
She’d barely left their line of sight before something soft came into swift contact with Moon’s temple–-or it tried to at least, before he’d snatched it mid-arc, incidentally crushing the object in his hand. Wet grass wasn’t his favorite scent, but that was far less important than the sound of Sun’s amused snickering. “Quit it,” the darker bot warned, catching the quick motion of Sun plucking another leaf from the overgrowth. “What’re you doing?”
In response, Sun tossed the leaf at his face, causing him to swat it away.
“Sun!” Moon took a step toward his brother, intending to stop him from grabbing anything else to mess with.
Pftb.
They both paused, looking down. Moon lifted his foot, revealing a crushed trusslin leaf that had all of the air force out of it suddenly.
Sun choked back a snicker, chest quivering.
Moon bit the inside of his lip to keep back a laugh of his own, how voice warbling as he tried to keep it in. “Sun-–Sun that’s not–” A grinding, throaty sound from the golden bot got him to cough a bit, both of them struggling to not laugh at the absurd noise. “Shut up, that–-mkh–-that wasn’t funny.”
“Yes it was.” Sun’s voice was barely a squeak.
Cheeks aching from trying to fight the urge to smile, Moon had to turn away, losing the battle slowly against his own poor humor. “We really are children.”
Doubled over, Sun nodded, trying his best to calm himself down. A thick, fuzzy leaf bobbed in front of him as he exhaled; teal eyes flicked to Moon for a moment, then back to the leaf.
Moon saw the glance. “Do not.”
Sun reached for the leaf slowly, now holding Moon’s gaze with his mouth pressed thin with guilty pleasure.
“Sunrise.”
In a flash, Sun grabbed the leaf and pulled, twisting upright–-
–-Moon darted, trying to rip the leaf away before anything could be done with it.
~
Jenn lifted her head, cocking to one side instinctively in an effort to listen as her eyes skimmed the area. “Was that a yelp?” Standing, she hauled the burlap sack used for trimmings over her shoulder, grabbed the large pair of garden shears from their resting place at the base of the tree holding her home aloft and faced the direction of her equipment. No further rustling or odd changes to the wind came to her, so she dismissed the possibility it was an animal quickly.
Waiting patiently at her side, Rukbat’s nose pointed in the same direction she turned, ears perked and tail held still. With an airy whistle, Jenn gave the command to seek; bounding off, the canine darted into the tree line. She followed, taking long strides to cover ground quickly, only slightly assured that her guard dog hadn’t given an indicator of danger. The clearing wasn’t far by any means so it took only a minute to return, her concerns evaporating into an amused chuckle at the sight of Rukbat, tail wagging fiercely, with his teeth clamped tight to Sun’s sleeve in an effort to yank him upright from his sprawled position.
“What did you two do?” she wondered, failing to hide her laughter as she took in the sight before her. Both of the brothers were prone, tangled in the vines of the trusslin like storm-fallen branches, struggling to free themselves from the twisted grip of the vegetation.
Pointing with his free hand to his unluckier brother, Sun blurted, “He shoved me!”, jerking slightly to one side in time to Rukbat’s continuous yanking on his shirt sleeve.
“I–” the unfortunate Moon huffed, voice slightly muffled by the foliage, “--I did not! YOU fell on your own!” While Sun had the good graces to fall back-first, preserving his dignity, Moon had been less lucky; in an effort to catch himself and avoid his face meeting the ground with unwarranted enthusiasm, he’d thrown his hand out but in doing so had gotten his arm tangled in the coiling vines as they ensnared him in a way that worsened whenever he tried to pull free.
Fighting down her laughter, Jenn mused, “Alright, hold on,” while putting her supplies down and waving Rukbat off from his misplaced eagerness. “Perimeter. Go.” With a single whimper, the Stellis bounded into the trees to check the area as commanded so he wouldn’t be underfoot. Jenn couldn’t help the grin on her face as she planted her feet firmly, offering her hand to the taller bot; with a grunt, she was able to pull Sun upright, the vines snagging and tugging at his clothes in an effort to keep him trapped. They fell away easily enough, having been more a nuisance that kept Sun from finding the leverage to sit up than anything else. “What did we learn today?”
From the foliage, Moon grumbled, “Plants are evil,” while waiting for his turn, a single iris glimmering in the shade of the leaves. This only made Jenn chuckle louder, which he didn’t enjoy much.
“Hold still, I'm coming.”
A click and hum of parts rearranging made Moon twitch, the vines tightening in their lattice-like hold so he couldn’t turn to look.
Blue light filled the shadowy space of the underbrush as Jenn crouched with more grace than he’d fallen with and began to rock her mechanical arm rhythmically against the plants that held him down. A snap–-then another–-she pulled the vines one by one just enough to slide her pinkie finger between them and saw away at them; Moon realized quickly the click had been her finger joint swapping into a small blade, serrated and sharp but no bigger than her finger had been. “How handy,” he commented, meaning it as a compliment but sounding as annoyed as he felt.
“It is,” she agreed, still grinning but unbothered by his tone.
With a final cut, Moon’s arm came free. Standing at the ready, Sun grabbed his brother's elbow and hauled, dragging the dark bot back from the tangle onto his feet. Quietly, the golden bot whispered, “I’m sorry,” helping to dust grass clippings from Moon’s shirt.
Moon grunted, unamused but accepting the apology; it wasn’t worth being genuinely upset over. This time.
Stepping lightly, Jenn retraced her steps to get out of the overgrowth so she wouldn’t wrap herself up by accident and brushed her skirt down, finger blade swapping back with a soft snick. “Well,” she mused, hands on her hips once they were settled, “had enough trusslin trimming for the day or are you boys still willing to help cut it back?”
Sharing a quick look to confirm their answers, they both spoke together, “I’d like to!/I'd like revenge.”
Hefting up the shears, she offered them to the pair with a faint grin. “Who wants them?”
Immediately, Sun shook his head, uncomfortable with such a large, unwieldy tool made of sharp edges and intentions of horticultural homicide.
Moon hesitated a moment before also shaking his head; briefly, he’d considered simply using water to trim the plants back but a fearful weight in his gut made him reconsider just as quickly. Neither of them had made an effort to show off their ‘unique skills’, he realized, briefly pondering if she already knew or not. If she did it wouldn’t matter, but he didn’t feel like risking any more of their personal abilities being known by a stranger if it could come back to bite them later. Thinking fast, he pushed a warning to Sun through their Lock with emphasis on his disapproval of the notion before it could occur to the taller bot–-Sun was more likely to act on a whim, as they’d shown plenty of the higher class their specialty beforehand so the risk would likely not occur to him.
Moon could only pray that the breadth of Jenn’s knowledge stopped at the basics and that she didn’t already know or recognize the pair of them carried the faculty for elemental conjuration. Any advantage they could gain would be useful, even if it was underhanded, in the event of the worst case scenario-–the deep nagging feeling he’d been trying to ignore grew stronger as Sun touched his own head for a moment as the push reached him. He looked at Moon curiously, the idea barely taking form before it was shut down by external prompting. Taking it to mean he had good reason to be cautious about their abilities being made known, Moon simply twitched his head in a subtle ‘no’, doubling down on the warning.
Water and fire would remain their secret until absolutely necessary.
“Well,” Jenn’s voice chirped, unaware of them having any sidebar conversation at all, “have fun using your hands then. Don’t get tied up again.”
Unhappy, Moon accepted the light jab without fuss, watching her turn on her heel and drop to the ground with ease to begin slicing the wayward bushes to pieces. The pair of performers moved to either side of the human and knelt, each grabbing hold of a fistful of vines and pulling them free with differing satisfaction at their respective results. Happy to be helpful, Sun picked systematically at the tangles from their roots, but Moon was more keen to vent his annoyance by taking a vine in hand and pulling, often snapping them half way down as the tension gave out. Jenn focused on cutting, mindful of where each of them stood and where their hands were before making a slice, creating a somewhat clear path into the mess they could walk through without tripping.
Some amount of time passed in busy silence, a growing pile of trimmings marking their progress at clearing the overgrown mess from around the equipment that supposedly lay beneath it all. Constructs made of metal and wood fashioned together with wire, bolts and braces slowly revealed themselves, surprising Moon with how sturdy they were-–absolutely not passing any safety inspections but sturdy enough to be usable. Off and on between exchanging questions and directions, the navy bot thought he heard a hum but couldn't quite pinpoint where it was coming from for a while. By the end of their endeavor, he only had the assumption it was Jenn, yet if it was she would stop if he got too close.
Is she shy or messing with me? he wondered, dumping a load of leaves and sticks into the brush pile.
Jenn groaned and stretched, getting his attention. Somewhere in the back, Sun was coming around with his own collection of detritus. “I think that’s good enough for now,” the human decided, hair matted to her neck with sweat. “I’m ready for–”
“OW!”
Startled by the unexpected sound, Jenn and Moon bolted to the edge of the clearing where the cry came from, skidding to a halt at the sight of Sun nursing his foot while leaning on one of the upright structures. Audibly worried, Moon asked, “What happened??” kneeling to give his brother’s leg a quick scan; the alerts read as superficial with no real damage detected.
“I kicked that,” Sun answered, indicating a circular object buried under the leaves he’d been carrying with a tip of his head. Curious, Jenn circled behind them and pulled the object out, light bouncing off of it with a metallic gleam; it was a ring of chrome-like metal, unadorned with a bright shine despite being out in the wilderness for Azil-knows-how-long.
“Oh!” she chirped, hefting it over her head to give it a once-over. “That’s where I left it! Thanks for finding my hoop, bright eyes. Sorry you used your foot for it though.”
Satisfied nothing was broken, Moon let Sun put his foot down so he could stand, frowning. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a more serious injury. You have too much junk lying around, I'm surprised we haven’t tripped on anything before now.”
Giving the terse robot sharp side-eye, Jenn shrugged lightly. “Before now the only one at risk of injury was me so leaving my ‘junk’ out was never a problem.”
“I’m fine though,” Sun cut in, flexing his toes against the grass; they stung but his system detected no internal errors. It had startled him more than anything. “What is that thing? It’s heavy.”
“A weighted sling hoop,” Jenn answered, giving the ring a twirl over her wrist. “I got one for fitness reasons but got busy and forgot where I left it.”
“Sling hoop?” Sun’s brow furrowed a moment before he recalled why it sounded familiar. “Oh! We had a few of those, didn’t we?”
Moon raised a brow when Sun turned to him for an answer, as if seeking permission to share details. “For a bit, I think, but they were smaller and not weighted as much. I don’t even know where they went, if I’m being honest.”
The motion of the ring swirling brought their eyes back to it, Jenn absently swishing it around her wrist with ease; light shimmered across the surface, almost blindingly at times–-with a flick, the ring soared up above their heads, the metal finish hard to ignore in the yellow glow of the aurora. As it reached the peak of its arc and began to fall, a different flash of the light cut across the canopy with intent to intercept the metal ring before ducking into the trees, treasure in claw.
“OI!” Jenn barked at the flash. “AQUILA!”
The avian circled back overhead, the ring held securely in her talons.
“AQUILA, DROP IT!”
The bird made no indicator of doing so, heading off to the house.
Slumping, Jenn groaned, “Aaaaaaand that’s why I don’t use it anymore, she’s obsessed with that thing.”
“It is shiny,” Sun offered in condolences, which earned him a rueful grin.
Moon sighed, “Well, so much for that,” a bit amused at the situation. Seems she’s not in complete control of her companions. Amusement turned to confusion quickly as that thought settled more at the forefront of his mind: Cygnus units weren’t supposed to be disobedient. In fact, they weren't even supposed to do anything outside of their one function--to look pretty by imitating real birds. Knowing she’d gone to great lengths to build them herself implied Jenn had either intentionally programmed disobedience into her companion or the AI had developed this quirk at some point but she never corrected it.
Jenn was not exercising control over the lesser robots as their maker or owner.
Something in his gut twisted uncomfortably. A touch at his back brought him out of his thoughts, meeting Sun’s concerned gaze as he looked over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” the gold bot asked quietly, Jenn peering around him curiously.
Realizing he was being observed, Moon straightened and replied, “I’m fine, just thinking about going back to the house.”
“Oh.” Sun looked back at Jenn, then out to the equipment they’d spent the better part of a day liberating from the forest’s green grasp. “We can go if you–”
Moon held up his hand. “I want to go back. If you want to stay out here for a bit longer you can.”
Perking up, Sun grinned. “Really? Alright!”
Gives me a chance to look around more, Moon added to himself, giving a small wave as he departed from the clearing. The twist returned as soon as he was out of sight. It wasn’t the same as the nagging at the back of his mind-–that one was persistent, it made his shell feel cold inside and his system like it was running rapidly–-yet it wasn’t positive either.
He felt sick, if that were even possible.
Why?
Exiting the trees, Moon’s gaze drifted automatically up to the roost where he knew the bird made its home; sure enough, its metallic feathers glimmered and shone as it settled down, examining its prize with its beak. The feeling churned deep within his structural coils, slimy and loud. Ascending the steps of the house, Moon was too busy internally assessing to notice he was piloting himself toward the avian’s resting spot until he heard a rasp and snapped back to the present. Wings spread, Aquila stared him down with piercing magenta eyes, a low, metallic scraping noise cutting through the air as a warning he was getting too close.
What am I doing? he wondered, splaying his hands to show he was unarmed and meant no harm. Animals don’t even like me.
Seeing he was empty-handed, Aquila’s wings lowered slightly–-but her grip on the hoop only tightened.
This Stellis was bigger than he considered; while he was growing familiar with the golden shimmer of its feathers, Moon hadn’t truly considered how bulky this thing was, as it was always a distance away whenever he got to look at it. The few times it was near Jenn, whose size he was acutely aware of, it hadn’t truly struck him until now that this was a large unit. A majority of the time, a Cygnus’s size was directly related to its functionality: small units were meant to flutter and move around, large ones were slow and not designed to meander. In this case, though, it was large and functional.
Brilliant magenta eye lenses were set into what he assumed was a salvaged endo-skeleton taken from a parrot or owl base model, but padded and plated with metal feathers layered like shingles that appeared hand-hammered and cut to size for where they were meant to be. Most of them were yellow–-brass perhaps-–but slivers of copper and steel popped up here and there, welded together to make up for missing material or repairs when the base alloy wasn’t available. The forward edge of the wings had structures with deep divots Moon assumed were to help guide air over the wings, but he couldn’t be certain. They weren’t standard at least, he knew that much.
A sharp beak with a hook at the end and dark talons that-–to his shock-–measured nearly a finger-length to him glinted, threatening to teach him a painful lesson if he tried to take the treasured ring by force. Like all the things in this place, this robot was bizarre-–mismatched and not to market spec yet even through his cynical view of things, Moon could tell this one was crafted and maintained with no less care than the canine or the twin computers that floated about, hiding in nooks and crannies to spy on them all quietly. There was no mistaking the amount of deliberate effort that went into, not repairing, but custom building such things out of scrap and sheer gumption.
Jenn was talented, he would admit, but he couldn’t for the life of him grasp why she wasted her effort on smaller things like Stellis units when she obviously had the knowledge to work on Task Managers like them but simply didn’t. Aquila squawked softly, turning her head to eye him better when he didn’t move. His gaze darted across the avian as he thought, taking mental notes on her build and features. The fact this unit was still behaving like a bird when out of sight meant it wasn’t for show, thus not a Cygnus programming feature-–not anymore at least.
This bird had free-running AI, on purpose. Typically this was used for Task Managers, Stardusts and Stellis units with functions outside of decoration, such as the Sirius Guardian line which behaved like dogs at all hours rather than just when commanded or viewed by others. Smaller Cygnus would have this so they could appear ‘natural’ but it made no sense for a large decorative unit to have it nor would it develop this feature organically over time. The only conclusion he had was that Jenn purposefully gave this bird a kind of free will to behave like the animal it was modeled after even when it wasn’t needed.
But why?
None of the things this weird human girl did made sense to him. Not when viewing her through the lens of comparison to other humans he’d met at least. Jenn was not like the humans in E’rta-–every time he tried to catch her in one of their known patterns, accuse her of things he knew them to be guilty of, Moon was proven wrong. None of them would allow something like this Cygnus–-Aquila, he corrected himself–-to exist with its own sense of self-direction simply because. In fact, he was sure they wouldn’t build her in the first place purely due to her being ‘ugly’ with her mottled metal shell and rough layering of feathers.
Yet Jenn gave her self-directing features, played with her in the yard-–there wasn’t even a leash. Aquila was able to steal an object from her master, defy a command, fly off and face no consequences. Jenn had simply accepted the hoop was gone for now. The twist spread through his system again as these facts stacked up, becoming impossible to ignore.
He felt guilty.
Gentle prodding snapped him out of his mental echo chamber, causing him to jump slightly. A raspy squawk that almost sounded like a question made him realize that while he was reeling from his own judgmental thought processes being wrong, Aquila had deigned to leave her spot and shuffle across the hand rail toward him. The hoop rested on the perch, undisturbed and unguarded; he didn’t dare try to grab it with the massive bird staring him down from barely a foot away. She’d scraped her beak across his arm with surprising care, head cocked so one eye had a full view of him. Through the pink lenses of her eye shield, Moon saw a shutter coil in on itself as it focused silently on his face.
Absently, he reached toward her with his far hand, pausing when she opened her beak warningly. The ruffle in her feathers settled after a second, giving him a chance to near her again; a murmuring sound hummed from the bird before she clicked her beak, making him freeze again. What am I doing? Moon asked himself yet again, trying to find a logical reason he was even trying to mess with this thing in the first place. I’m stupid, I’m going to lose a finger because of my own curiosity.
Head swiveling a bit, Aquila considered her options: bite or no bite? Blue was patient but held anger in yellow eyes. Yellow was loud but green eyes were kind. Choices choices.
With a quick nip, Aquila closed her beak on Moon’s finger–-he tensed, fighting the reaction to jerk back just enough to realize it didn’t hurt. Once–-twice more she gave his finger a quick tap between her sharp mouthparts before seeming satisfied with his lack of reaction. Cooing, she sat back, lifting her chin so her neck fluffed.
Unsure what it meant, Moon pursed his mouth, huffed, and took a risk to stroke her neck with the back of his fingers. Unsurprisingly, the metal feathers weren’t soft but they folded aside at the slightest touch, giving the illusion of it; faintly, Moon’s mouth turned up at the edge. Aquila allowed him to pet her neck a few times before having enough and making the rasping sound that he took to mean displeasure. While she shuffled back to her perch, Moon looked out over the yard, finding it quite the vantage point. Somewhere in the brush, he could make out Rukbat still running a perimeter check, while the tree tops were just visible enough that the gap of the clearing was demarcated as a shadowy line; the bird must have seen the flash of the chrome finish from her perch. Up there, Moon felt almost peaceful.
Maybe it was a good thing his assumptions were proving to be wrong.
It was nice here.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers (Till All Are One)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Starscream (Transformers)
Additional Tags: Robot/Human Relationships
