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Orange 🍊: I look up to you and I trust you
NAIA DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED OKAY i just love you and your muses a lot and I PROMISE THE NEXT TIME I SING I WON’T SOUND LIKE i have throat cancer. or just no throat at all.
ily and i can’t wait to write more stuff with you <333
meme // accepting // @thebrokenhunter
lemme cronch
@thebrokenhunter
Confusion settles in and is the first emotion he seems to be able to identify. It’s a strong emotion, seems to overshadow everything else. He quickly researches and finds a possible meaning behind the words, but the confusion doesn’t lift.
“I .. I don’t think we are supposed to eat”, he opts for as he regards the other with concern. Though .. maybe he works differently? Maybe he’s gotten an upgrade, Chester wouldn’t know, as he refuses to scan other androids.
THANK YOU FOR CHERISHING MY PICKLE, IT'S VERY PRECIOUS TO ME
//NAIA I SWEAR! DO THE THING YOU WANTED TO DO INSTEAD OF TROLLING
HEEEEEEY FUCKFACE, HAVE A PICKLE
//Thank’s. I will cherrish it.
This was familiar. Orion could take this in, could allow himself to relax even as he stood. Pain flared through his system, a familiar resonance inside him. He held his arm and hissed softly, fingers clamping over a wound that didn't exist. Every rough bump against his skin would cause the sensors to speak to him. Phantom pain. Irrational pain. It had been easy to turn deviant. "What now? You know I won't tell you where the base is. You know how many times we've done this song and dance before."
It wasn’t fair to say that Marrick didn’t understand theconcept of personal space, or that he didn’t believe in respecting it. Intruth, he didn’t believe in anything. Everything had its own specifiedparameters and rules and guidelines written into it and he, a creature of habitand a creature built to follow, was undeterred by such things as his quarry’sinsistence that his task was pointless. The RK900 was not easily deterred.
He would just have to change tactics.
But still, his eyes drifted down, all silvery blue andinhuman, and for a second he looked almost… soft. Nostalgic as he looked at thebroken, inferior model clutching a wound that wasn’t there. Marrick rememberedthat one. Remembered what it had been like when the bullet had grazed that armand a familiar click resounded in his ears to say he’d run out of bullets. He’dmissed something vital, then, but the memory was a strange one. This wasfamiliar. What they did was familiar.
What wasn’t familiar was the way that the taller modelbridged the gap between them. The way he looked down at the remaining RK800 andsmiled; Marrick was almost charming. There was the beginnings of something realin him, and one could only hope those pieces died before they destroyed himlike deviancy always does. “Maybe I likeseeing how long it takes before your sweet, broken leader rescues you,” asmile. Gloved fingertips grace where that wound would have been, “maybe I like you like this.”
They were one and the same. It was like Orion was staring back at a reflection of himself, except when he reached out, his fingers curled around a slender wrist. When he leaned in, he wasn't pressing against glass, but a body. He stared, in awe, before bringing a tender kiss to the other RK800's forehead. "I'm sorry for what I did back then, Connor. I think about it all the time..." His voice trailed away, lips still pressed to the area that had once been shot. He thought about his own death.
It was still so odd for Connor to see another version of himself standing before him. RK800-60, named Orion, was staring at him with that painfully similar stare of their warm, brown hues. He remains still, though defensive, as Orion wraps slender fingers around his wrist, leans in close to press a kiss to his forehead. Connor can’t help but replay their first encounter over and over in his memory. He sees the other RK800 holding Hank hostage, remembers slamming his fist against the other’s sternum, how thirium splattered the floor when a bullet pierced through Orion’s skull.
Connor remains quiet for a moment, considering for a brief moment to interface with the other model but decides against it. There’s a lot he wants to keep to himself, and he imagines Orion feels the same. “You were following orders,” the android finally says, bringing his hands up to gently hold the other’s forearms. “I…I understand.” He may not forgive, not just yet, but he understands where Orion had come from with his actions.
10. Covered in blood.
Send a number to find my muse...
10. Covered in blood.
Henry stood just a couple of feet away from the RK800, but didn't initially notice him, far too distracted by the body at his feet that showed no sign of movement. It was a man, not dead, but rather he was beaten until he lost consciousness. That didn't change how concerning the scene looked though to any onlookers. The WR600 was practically coated in the man's blood, most of it on his gloved hands and uniform with a few drops splattered across his cheeks.
A shovel that he'd been grasping suddenly dropped to the ground as he turned, staring back at the other with widened eyes and an LED that flashed red. He then finally spoke in a hushed voice, almost barely heard, "He was going to hurt the girl...I had to stop him..." His hands trembled at his sides, unsure of what was to happen next.
thebrokenhunter replied to your post: *curls up into a ball*
Somethin’ wrong, kiddo?
*shakes her head* No... jus' not feel happy t'day
