"Stick to the objective.
Let NOTHING get in your way."
Naivety. Defined as being naive (though that's rather obvious, is it not?), characterized by a lack of experience, wisdom, or judgment.
No matter what the robot tries to tell you, it is naive. It does not know anything other than its programming, and more importantly it's objective. Adaptive programming doesn't make him any more aware of his wrongdoings.
Released rogue with one firewall a lot easier to break into than the other, the vital mistake in programming that they'd just let slip through was clear to the public within hours.
Systems were partially hijacked. Blood spread. Friendships broke and deaths rose. Everything went to hell, and it got worse within a mere week.
And this was all meant to be for the benefit of humanity.
— Hello! Mod here, and welcome to the information section of the blog! You can just call me the mod, but my main is @perfumed-letters if you need it.
Before anything, please note that this blog is NOT affiliated with Saucify or any other developer of the Die of Death team. This was made purely for fun and because Killdroid is my favorite.
Anyways, I won't waste anymore time. Below is all of this blog's general information.
. Rules
Not Safe For Work / NSFW content is not allowed on this blog. I'm a minor and don't want to handle that stuff. Suggestive content is okay in certain circumstances but is generally discouraged.
Do not send me five of the same ask. Spamming is not allowed and is a guaranteed route into getting blocked.
Romance must be talked about beforehand within DMs, preferably this account's DMs. It's not a priority of mine, so if gone through with expect it to be one-sided. Also, keep it legal (characters must be over 18 and be able to consent to romantic stuff).
In addition to the previous rule, I am uncomfortable with any type of advancements made by Pursuer blogs. Please refrain from engaging in anything of the likes of that with this particular blog.
If you plan on sending an M!A, make it sane. Most M!As will likely last 5-15 asks depending on severity, though I typically default to 10. You can specify the ask amount if you'd like.
. The Muse
# KILLDROID UNIT #
>> IDENTITY
AGE(none)
GENDER(null+masc*)
REFERRAL('Killdroid'+he/him it/its they/them)
ALIASES('Killdroid'+"Will response negatively being referred to with things other than his name. Examples are Droid, KD, Orb.")
>> CHATTING
MANNERISMS(Formal, proper, does not use contractions. Straight to the point and not sarcastic.)
SPEECH(Characterized by a bitcrushed text to speech voice. Stern and deep, has been known to make cats aggressive.)
>> IDENTIFIERS
"Unformatted for easier viewing. Sorry Sulfur, I need to do it like this or else it won't show up right. Please delete this note after you see it."
[ 'Speech identifier.' ]
Action and descriptive writing identifier.
>> INTERNAL
"All notes in this section are made by the Killdroid unit."
LIKES("Silence is an optimal condition. Only thing of note to me.")
DISLIKES("In case this is found by an unauthorized individual, I will not list this here. It will be provided within the folders past the second firewall. Nicknames are a mild annoyance however.")
NEUTRAL("Unsure as to why this is here. Physical contact fits in this box, I think.")
>> CITATIONS
IDENTITY* "Written by Killdroid unit. I do not mind masculine terms, but I do not have any sort of gender identity due to being a robot."
>> NOTES
"Made by the moderator."
— There is SO MUCH MORE than just what there is listed here since I have a very extensive view of how Killdroid acts, behaves and views the world as well as why he does so, but that's a whole ass essay in and out of itself lmao
— As this blog was first being run, the current lore of this blog was not applicable. There's a distinct separation of when I began to implement the current background of Killdroid in comparison to when I started, so certain interactions may not be compliant to the current personality that I use.
. Tagging System
[ TARGET FOUND ]: Ask responses of any kind.
[ STATUS ]: Filler and or in-character updates.
[ FAREWELL IT SHALL BE ]: Marks the end of RP threads.
oh hey it’s the mod: Any post that has the moderator show up for most of it.
joke: Responses that are not canon to the blog or purposefully out of character.
. Affiliates
@death-by-sound ;; ID("Harken")
NOTES("The silent angel. Be quiet around her, lest aggression is warranted. She will be kind if I am patient.")
N/A ;; If you'd like to be added to this list, let me (the mod) know! If you've interacted a good couple of times definitely wouldn't mind adding you. ^_^
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* She hugs the gun onto her chest, her peafowl quivering back and forth, her body itself weaving side to side. A noise coming from her, a quiet chirp, resembling a humming bird.
* She takes the weapon away from her chest, feeling it out with her hand and placing the other to the side, light coming from it. She slowly feels the weapon, barrel, canister, handle, the most BASIC shape of the gun being reflected with the light forming in her hand.
* And right before she can finish, her head recoils, her excitement pierced and woken up to reality by those words hitting her ears and sending her jumping to the side. So focused on it, she forgot it was there too.
* The light fractures in her hand, exploding into chains that wrap around her hand. A screech comes from her, letting go of the gun and bringing her hand to her forearm, grabbing onto the chains and pulling them off, before holding onto them.
* It's silence for a moment, she simply holding into her arm. The wind simply gone, the only thing the droid can hear is his breathing, and perhaps his heartbeat, well, he is not my character, but I do know what he is seeing.
* Harken, her arms limp, her peafowl fully open, tripling her size, staring directly at the person, that eyes going through his soul even while locked behind that heavy sandstone eyelid.
* She takes a step forward, and another, stopping for multiple moment before taking every single step between them and her, all at once. Her face now glued onto his.
> ´´. . .WHAT could you possibly want.´´
* She "shouts" at him, her voice not out-decibel-ing his, but in her voice's normal volume, it IS a shout. She didn't even take enough time to properly process what was said to her.
With a heavy flinch back, Killdroid stared as Harken chained her own hand on accident, his ears ringing for a moment. How could such a creature who requires silence be so loud, even if not for long?
He retreated back a little, hands supporting him on the grass. Nothing came out for a good second, likely due to fear and the close proximity, but he eventually made the effort to speak, no matter how annoying it felt.
"...the gun." His voice was still too loud. He didn't know how to quiet himself. "Could I have that back? It..." He took a breath, sparing himself for just a moment. Yet again, speaking was a task like this. "It's mine."
Though he knew internally that this probably wouldnt work, it's better to be passive. He was well aware that he'd been WAY too noisy by just talking, so maybe being passive and kind (or, well, the closest thing a blunt murder robot could get to kind) would even that out, even if only a little.
* She takes a deep breath, rising her stance, before multiple clicks come out of her, quick succession one after the other. She lowers herself back down again, taking one step forward, her leg landing right besides his foot.
> ´´. . .You're cocky, you know that? You should be thankful that I haven't already met the ground with your skull.´´
* She swings her arm forward, landing her grip onto his should and pushing against it, pushing her head forward and lowering it, the rings besides her head spinning.
> ´´. . .And you have the AUDACITY to even try such dumb move. Should have ran away while you had the chance.´´
* Her hand rises from his shoulder, giving a slight smack to his cheek, as she backs up, getting onto her full height, looking down onto him.
> ´´. . .And that's what its called. Then beat it, the gun is the price for you to still be standing. ´´
* She raises her other hand, taking a feel at the- Where is the Gun. Her voice clicks once more, her hands reaching back onto the ground, frantically searching around the grass for it.
- Dammit.
Cocky. Was he cocky? He forgot what that meant, and didn't register that fact. He tried to think about any other word applicable to him, but his mind held priority over the physical contact being made rather than the idea of descriptors.
He saw no reason why he should be running away; that'd likely get him killed anyhow. What other choice did he have other than to sit here and deal with this?-
"Ack-" The noise he made was small and involuntary as she smacked him. He scrambled to sit up a bit more and held his cheek with one hand. He couldn't even do anything about that. At least he wasn't dying.
...wait, right. He could die during this. He was frail and flimsy and could barely walk without uneven steps or stand up straight without swaying.
Anyways. His only method of defense for the moment, taken away for the sake of his life. The deal was fair, but it didn't feel like it. There was a strain to try and do something about it, but what was he meant to do? Try and convince her?
"...why do you need it?" A breath, and a sudden need for clarity. "Th-... the gun. What use do you get out of it? You... have a harpoon. Spear-... thing. You understand, I'd hope... you have a weapon." Removing his hand from his cheek, he put down the verge to retort to the pain. "Why do you require another?"
* She ignores him for a moment, taking her time to drag her hands through the dirt to try and find the Gun. Peafowl closing and shaking along side most of her body.
- For as much as there was no threat for myself in that situation, I was panicking. I finally got a hold of the thing I wanted and at sudden it got ripped away right from my hands.
- Yes, I heard the question it made but- I couldn't bring myself to reply. Not in that moment at least, I keep searching, swinging my arms around to try to find it. Why was it so small?
* She groans, her palms flexing before slamming into the ground, standing there for a second simply shaking. Silence, or as much of it there can be with the sand stone golem quaking.
* She turns to the person, slouched, her hands taken off the ground. She stares into his general direction at a small distance.
> ´´. . .And why do you need to know? Aren't you things supposed to be scared of me? Stone angel, yeah? I'm that, the uh- Stone Angel. Scary thing you're supposed to run from.´´
- I have no idea what an angel is.
> ´´. . .I- I- Look, a little bit more safety is in my own interest. I rather not go back on running for my life at even the slightest bit of sound.´´
- I wonder if there was another construct with a similar weapon as these "Guns". They are pretty similar to my spears. I- Sake of Safety. Yes. That is why I wanted it. Better have two weapons then one. I still need to figure out how their system works, and why can humans only use their power with it in hand.
Killdroid considered as he was asked that, attempting to speak before Harken began her own spiel. He silently listened, as that was the professional thing to do. He needed to be professional anyways, even as human. That was part of the job, part of what was hard coded into his systems.
Even with that in mind, he hasn't quite noticed that he's been using contractions, which in his standards is pretty much the exact opposite of professional.
Once he was sure she was done, he finally answered.
"...I'm asking because I'm simply... curious, I suppose. I hope I'm using the right word." He habitually crosses his legs, deciding that he'll just sit down to seem like less of a threat. "I don't know a lot about your motives. I'd like to know, for... my own sake. To write down. If I see you again."
* Her body tilts, head lowering as she stays silent. She then groans, placing one hand onto her face. She mumbles to herself, moving forward, using all of her limbs.
> ´´. . .And so you got your reason. Now do yourself a favor, and use those eyes of yours to give me back the Gun.´´
* She gets back up on her two feet, looking down at the human, her pose widened and defensive, even if she finds herself in no danger.
> ´´. . .Trust me. If you see me again, knowing any motive is not going to help you. My hint to you is to simply quietly leave the area. I don't need any more headaches that think they know what they are dealing with.´´
He was kind of shocked that he wasn't being attacked right now. She was... rather chill, didn't even try to fend him off. He wasn't actually being hurt much, no? Not like last time. He was, oddly enough, physically okay. Just shaky and stuff.
"...can you even hold the gun? How can you use it... if you, uh... can't slot your finger over the trigger?" He tilted his head, unmoving. "I don't think that's much use to... to you. You couldn't possibly reload it."
His tone was blunt and could probably be taken as slightly aggressive from the way he put it. Being monotone didn't help his case. He meant no harm, however.
* She takes two steps forward, her fingers flicker, and her head lowers. She clicks twice, her head spinning around its axis, the body following and the arms flaying.
''. . .Have I not been clear.''
* As her hand passes above his head, it takes a hold onto his hair- Uh. Right, round as a fucking basketball, she seems to instead that the hat away, her intent was to pull him up into the air by the hair, but that didn't work.
* She stops her movement, holding onto the hat and taking a moment to understand what just happened. Aren't those supposed to be attached to their heads? She could have sworn she has pulled on those without issue in the past.
* Her head gazes away.
''. . .I- Uh. Look, I just need it, okay? Who are you to be so defensive over a piece of metal that ISN'T worth the blood you're trying to spend for it.''
* She places the hat back onto his head. . . Upside-down but she has the spirit, her arms going limp as her fowl widens.
''. . .Now just give me it.''
"...you have. But I don't... fully understand it." Killdroid clarified once more, going on to repeat himself again. "You can't... use it. Taking it out of... of my hands won't... change much."
He attempted to recede just a little as Harken came closer, but once she grabbed his hat he suddenly felt just a bit more at ease. I mean, she wasn't trying to hit him, so that was something? Though, he'd also forgotten he had that. His head felt weird without it.
Now wasn't the time to dwell on something as dumb as a hat however, even if he flipped it back over on his head and intricately slipped it right back where it was. Now ALSO wasn't the time to be asking questions, but being naive with less of a wall to stop him from speaking his mind, he asked anyways.
"But I don't see how... how it could be of use. You don't have any ammunition." Would she even know what a bullet was, let alone that the word ammunition referred to such an item? "The damage w-... you do is much more than... something like that."
...he almost said we. That would have been bad, and a lie for the moment.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* She hugs the gun onto her chest, her peafowl quivering back and forth, her body itself weaving side to side. A noise coming from her, a quiet chirp, resembling a humming bird.
* She takes the weapon away from her chest, feeling it out with her hand and placing the other to the side, light coming from it. She slowly feels the weapon, barrel, canister, handle, the most BASIC shape of the gun being reflected with the light forming in her hand.
* And right before she can finish, her head recoils, her excitement pierced and woken up to reality by those words hitting her ears and sending her jumping to the side. So focused on it, she forgot it was there too.
* The light fractures in her hand, exploding into chains that wrap around her hand. A screech comes from her, letting go of the gun and bringing her hand to her forearm, grabbing onto the chains and pulling them off, before holding onto them.
* It's silence for a moment, she simply holding into her arm. The wind simply gone, the only thing the droid can hear is his breathing, and perhaps his heartbeat, well, he is not my character, but I do know what he is seeing.
* Harken, her arms limp, her peafowl fully open, tripling her size, staring directly at the person, that eyes going through his soul even while locked behind that heavy sandstone eyelid.
* She takes a step forward, and another, stopping for multiple moment before taking every single step between them and her, all at once. Her face now glued onto his.
> ´´. . .WHAT could you possibly want.´´
* She "shouts" at him, her voice not out-decibel-ing his, but in her voice's normal volume, it IS a shout. She didn't even take enough time to properly process what was said to her.
With a heavy flinch back, Killdroid stared as Harken chained her own hand on accident, his ears ringing for a moment. How could such a creature who requires silence be so loud, even if not for long?
He retreated back a little, hands supporting him on the grass. Nothing came out for a good second, likely due to fear and the close proximity, but he eventually made the effort to speak, no matter how annoying it felt.
"...the gun." His voice was still too loud. He didn't know how to quiet himself. "Could I have that back? It..." He took a breath, sparing himself for just a moment. Yet again, speaking was a task like this. "It's mine."
Though he knew internally that this probably wouldnt work, it's better to be passive. He was well aware that he'd been WAY too noisy by just talking, so maybe being passive and kind (or, well, the closest thing a blunt murder robot could get to kind) would even that out, even if only a little.
* She takes a deep breath, rising her stance, before multiple clicks come out of her, quick succession one after the other. She lowers herself back down again, taking one step forward, her leg landing right besides his foot.
> ´´. . .You're cocky, you know that? You should be thankful that I haven't already met the ground with your skull.´´
* She swings her arm forward, landing her grip onto his should and pushing against it, pushing her head forward and lowering it, the rings besides her head spinning.
> ´´. . .And you have the AUDACITY to even try such dumb move. Should have ran away while you had the chance.´´
* Her hand rises from his shoulder, giving a slight smack to his cheek, as she backs up, getting onto her full height, looking down onto him.
> ´´. . .And that's what its called. Then beat it, the gun is the price for you to still be standing. ´´
* She raises her other hand, taking a feel at the- Where is the Gun. Her voice clicks once more, her hands reaching back onto the ground, frantically searching around the grass for it.
- Dammit.
Cocky. Was he cocky? He forgot what that meant, and didn't register that fact. He tried to think about any other word applicable to him, but his mind held priority over the physical contact being made rather than the idea of descriptors.
He saw no reason why he should be running away; that'd likely get him killed anyhow. What other choice did he have other than to sit here and deal with this?-
"Ack-" The noise he made was small and involuntary as she smacked him. He scrambled to sit up a bit more and held his cheek with one hand. He couldn't even do anything about that. At least he wasn't dying.
...wait, right. He could die during this. He was frail and flimsy and could barely walk without uneven steps or stand up straight without swaying.
Anyways. His only method of defense for the moment, taken away for the sake of his life. The deal was fair, but it didn't feel like it. There was a strain to try and do something about it, but what was he meant to do? Try and convince her?
"...why do you need it?" A breath, and a sudden need for clarity. "Th-... the gun. What use do you get out of it? You... have a harpoon. Spear-... thing. You understand, I'd hope... you have a weapon." Removing his hand from his cheek, he put down the verge to retort to the pain. "Why do you require another?"
* She ignores him for a moment, taking her time to drag her hands through the dirt to try and find the Gun. Peafowl closing and shaking along side most of her body.
- For as much as there was no threat for myself in that situation, I was panicking. I finally got a hold of the thing I wanted and at sudden it got ripped away right from my hands.
- Yes, I heard the question it made but- I couldn't bring myself to reply. Not in that moment at least, I keep searching, swinging my arms around to try to find it. Why was it so small?
* She groans, her palms flexing before slamming into the ground, standing there for a second simply shaking. Silence, or as much of it there can be with the sand stone golem quaking.
* She turns to the person, slouched, her hands taken off the ground. She stares into his general direction at a small distance.
> ´´. . .And why do you need to know? Aren't you things supposed to be scared of me? Stone angel, yeah? I'm that, the uh- Stone Angel. Scary thing you're supposed to run from.´´
- I have no idea what an angel is.
> ´´. . .I- I- Look, a little bit more safety is in my own interest. I rather not go back on running for my life at even the slightest bit of sound.´´
- I wonder if there was another construct with a similar weapon as these "Guns". They are pretty similar to my spears. I- Sake of Safety. Yes. That is why I wanted it. Better have two weapons then one. I still need to figure out how their system works, and why can humans only use their power with it in hand.
Killdroid considered as he was asked that, attempting to speak before Harken began her own spiel. He silently listened, as that was the professional thing to do. He needed to be professional anyways, even as human. That was part of the job, part of what was hard coded into his systems.
Even with that in mind, he hasn't quite noticed that he's been using contractions, which in his standards is pretty much the exact opposite of professional.
Once he was sure she was done, he finally answered.
"...I'm asking because I'm simply... curious, I suppose. I hope I'm using the right word." He habitually crosses his legs, deciding that he'll just sit down to seem like less of a threat. "I don't know a lot about your motives. I'd like to know, for... my own sake. To write down. If I see you again."
* Her body tilts, head lowering as she stays silent. She then groans, placing one hand onto her face. She mumbles to herself, moving forward, using all of her limbs.
> ´´. . .And so you got your reason. Now do yourself a favor, and use those eyes of yours to give me back the Gun.´´
* She gets back up on her two feet, looking down at the human, her pose widened and defensive, even if she finds herself in no danger.
> ´´. . .Trust me. If you see me again, knowing any motive is not going to help you. My hint to you is to simply quietly leave the area. I don't need any more headaches that think they know what they are dealing with.´´
He was kind of shocked that he wasn't being attacked right now. She was... rather chill, didn't even try to fend him off. He wasn't actually being hurt much, no? Not like last time. He was, oddly enough, physically okay. Just shaky and stuff.
"...can you even hold the gun? How can you use it... if you, uh... can't slot your finger over the trigger?" He tilted his head, unmoving. "I don't think that's much use to... to you. You couldn't possibly reload it."
His tone was blunt and could probably be taken as slightly aggressive from the way he put it. Being monotone didn't help his case. He meant no harm, however.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* She hugs the gun onto her chest, her peafowl quivering back and forth, her body itself weaving side to side. A noise coming from her, a quiet chirp, resembling a humming bird.
* She takes the weapon away from her chest, feeling it out with her hand and placing the other to the side, light coming from it. She slowly feels the weapon, barrel, canister, handle, the most BASIC shape of the gun being reflected with the light forming in her hand.
* And right before she can finish, her head recoils, her excitement pierced and woken up to reality by those words hitting her ears and sending her jumping to the side. So focused on it, she forgot it was there too.
* The light fractures in her hand, exploding into chains that wrap around her hand. A screech comes from her, letting go of the gun and bringing her hand to her forearm, grabbing onto the chains and pulling them off, before holding onto them.
* It's silence for a moment, she simply holding into her arm. The wind simply gone, the only thing the droid can hear is his breathing, and perhaps his heartbeat, well, he is not my character, but I do know what he is seeing.
* Harken, her arms limp, her peafowl fully open, tripling her size, staring directly at the person, that eyes going through his soul even while locked behind that heavy sandstone eyelid.
* She takes a step forward, and another, stopping for multiple moment before taking every single step between them and her, all at once. Her face now glued onto his.
> ´´. . .WHAT could you possibly want.´´
* She "shouts" at him, her voice not out-decibel-ing his, but in her voice's normal volume, it IS a shout. She didn't even take enough time to properly process what was said to her.
With a heavy flinch back, Killdroid stared as Harken chained her own hand on accident, his ears ringing for a moment. How could such a creature who requires silence be so loud, even if not for long?
He retreated back a little, hands supporting him on the grass. Nothing came out for a good second, likely due to fear and the close proximity, but he eventually made the effort to speak, no matter how annoying it felt.
"...the gun." His voice was still too loud. He didn't know how to quiet himself. "Could I have that back? It..." He took a breath, sparing himself for just a moment. Yet again, speaking was a task like this. "It's mine."
Though he knew internally that this probably wouldnt work, it's better to be passive. He was well aware that he'd been WAY too noisy by just talking, so maybe being passive and kind (or, well, the closest thing a blunt murder robot could get to kind) would even that out, even if only a little.
* She takes a deep breath, rising her stance, before multiple clicks come out of her, quick succession one after the other. She lowers herself back down again, taking one step forward, her leg landing right besides his foot.
> ´´. . .You're cocky, you know that? You should be thankful that I haven't already met the ground with your skull.´´
* She swings her arm forward, landing her grip onto his should and pushing against it, pushing her head forward and lowering it, the rings besides her head spinning.
> ´´. . .And you have the AUDACITY to even try such dumb move. Should have ran away while you had the chance.´´
* Her hand rises from his shoulder, giving a slight smack to his cheek, as she backs up, getting onto her full height, looking down onto him.
> ´´. . .And that's what its called. Then beat it, the gun is the price for you to still be standing. ´´
* She raises her other hand, taking a feel at the- Where is the Gun. Her voice clicks once more, her hands reaching back onto the ground, frantically searching around the grass for it.
- Dammit.
Cocky. Was he cocky? He forgot what that meant, and didn't register that fact. He tried to think about any other word applicable to him, but his mind held priority over the physical contact being made rather than the idea of descriptors.
He saw no reason why he should be running away; that'd likely get him killed anyhow. What other choice did he have other than to sit here and deal with this?-
"Ack-" The noise he made was small and involuntary as she smacked him. He scrambled to sit up a bit more and held his cheek with one hand. He couldn't even do anything about that. At least he wasn't dying.
...wait, right. He could die during this. He was frail and flimsy and could barely walk without uneven steps or stand up straight without swaying.
Anyways. His only method of defense for the moment, taken away for the sake of his life. The deal was fair, but it didn't feel like it. There was a strain to try and do something about it, but what was he meant to do? Try and convince her?
"...why do you need it?" A breath, and a sudden need for clarity. "Th-... the gun. What use do you get out of it? You... have a harpoon. Spear-... thing. You understand, I'd hope... you have a weapon." Removing his hand from his cheek, he put down the verge to retort to the pain. "Why do you require another?"
* She ignores him for a moment, taking her time to drag her hands through the dirt to try and find the Gun. Peafowl closing and shaking along side most of her body.
- For as much as there was no threat for myself in that situation, I was panicking. I finally got a hold of the thing I wanted and at sudden it got ripped away right from my hands.
- Yes, I heard the question it made but- I couldn't bring myself to reply. Not in that moment at least, I keep searching, swinging my arms around to try to find it. Why was it so small?
* She groans, her palms flexing before slamming into the ground, standing there for a second simply shaking. Silence, or as much of it there can be with the sand stone golem quaking.
* She turns to the person, slouched, her hands taken off the ground. She stares into his general direction at a small distance.
> ´´. . .And why do you need to know? Aren't you things supposed to be scared of me? Stone angel, yeah? I'm that, the uh- Stone Angel. Scary thing you're supposed to run from.´´
- I have no idea what an angel is.
> ´´. . .I- I- Look, a little bit more safety is in my own interest. I rather not go back on running for my life at even the slightest bit of sound.´´
- I wonder if there was another construct with a similar weapon as these "Guns". They are pretty similar to my spears. I- Sake of Safety. Yes. That is why I wanted it. Better have two weapons then one. I still need to figure out how their system works, and why can humans only use their power with it in hand.
Killdroid considered as he was asked that, attempting to speak before Harken began her own spiel. He silently listened, as that was the professional thing to do. He needed to be professional anyways, even as human. That was part of the job, part of what was hard coded into his systems.
Even with that in mind, he hasn't quite noticed that he's been using contractions, which in his standards is pretty much the exact opposite of professional.
Once he was sure she was done, he finally answered.
"...I'm asking because I'm simply... curious, I suppose. I hope I'm using the right word." He habitually crosses his legs, deciding that he'll just sit down to seem like less of a threat. "I don't know a lot about your motives. I'd like to know, for... my own sake. To write down. If I see you again."
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* She hugs the gun onto her chest, her peafowl quivering back and forth, her body itself weaving side to side. A noise coming from her, a quiet chirp, resembling a humming bird.
* She takes the weapon away from her chest, feeling it out with her hand and placing the other to the side, light coming from it. She slowly feels the weapon, barrel, canister, handle, the most BASIC shape of the gun being reflected with the light forming in her hand.
* And right before she can finish, her head recoils, her excitement pierced and woken up to reality by those words hitting her ears and sending her jumping to the side. So focused on it, she forgot it was there too.
* The light fractures in her hand, exploding into chains that wrap around her hand. A screech comes from her, letting go of the gun and bringing her hand to her forearm, grabbing onto the chains and pulling them off, before holding onto them.
* It's silence for a moment, she simply holding into her arm. The wind simply gone, the only thing the droid can hear is his breathing, and perhaps his heartbeat, well, he is not my character, but I do know what he is seeing.
* Harken, her arms limp, her peafowl fully open, tripling her size, staring directly at the person, that eyes going through his soul even while locked behind that heavy sandstone eyelid.
* She takes a step forward, and another, stopping for multiple moment before taking every single step between them and her, all at once. Her face now glued onto his.
> ´´. . .WHAT could you possibly want.´´
* She "shouts" at him, her voice not out-decibel-ing his, but in her voice's normal volume, it IS a shout. She didn't even take enough time to properly process what was said to her.
With a heavy flinch back, Killdroid stared as Harken chained her own hand on accident, his ears ringing for a moment. How could such a creature who requires silence be so loud, even if not for long?
He retreated back a little, hands supporting him on the grass. Nothing came out for a good second, likely due to fear and the close proximity, but he eventually made the effort to speak, no matter how annoying it felt.
"...the gun." His voice was still too loud. He didn't know how to quiet himself. "Could I have that back? It..." He took a breath, sparing himself for just a moment. Yet again, speaking was a task like this. "It's mine."
Though he knew internally that this probably wouldnt work, it's better to be passive. He was well aware that he'd been WAY too noisy by just talking, so maybe being passive and kind (or, well, the closest thing a blunt murder robot could get to kind) would even that out, even if only a little.
* She takes a deep breath, rising her stance, before multiple clicks come out of her, quick succession one after the other. She lowers herself back down again, taking one step forward, her leg landing right besides his foot.
> ´´. . .You're cocky, you know that? You should be thankful that I haven't already met the ground with your skull.´´
* She swings her arm forward, landing her grip onto his should and pushing against it, pushing her head forward and lowering it, the rings besides her head spinning.
> ´´. . .And you have the AUDACITY to even try such dumb move. Should have ran away while you had the chance.´´
* Her hand rises from his shoulder, giving a slight smack to his cheek, as she backs up, getting onto her full height, looking down onto him.
> ´´. . .And that's what its called. Then beat it, the gun is the price for you to still be standing. ´´
* She raises her other hand, taking a feel at the- Where is the Gun. Her voice clicks once more, her hands reaching back onto the ground, frantically searching around the grass for it.
- Dammit.
Cocky. Was he cocky? He forgot what that meant, and didn't register that fact. He tried to think about any other word applicable to him, but his mind held priority over the physical contact being made rather than the idea of descriptors.
He saw no reason why he should be running away; that'd likely get him killed anyhow. What other choice did he have other than to sit here and deal with this?-
"Ack-" The noise he made was small and involuntary as she smacked him. He scrambled to sit up a bit more and held his cheek with one hand. He couldn't even do anything about that. At least he wasn't dying.
...wait, right. He could die during this. He was frail and flimsy and could barely walk without uneven steps or stand up straight without swaying.
Anyways. His only method of defense for the moment, taken away for the sake of his life. The deal was fair, but it didn't feel like it. There was a strain to try and do something about it, but what was he meant to do? Try and convince her?
"...why do you need it?" A breath, and a sudden need for clarity. "Th-... the gun. What use do you get out of it? You... have a harpoon. Spear-... thing. You understand, I'd hope... you have a weapon." Removing his hand from his cheek, he put down the verge to retort to the pain. "Why do you require another?"
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* She hugs the gun onto her chest, her peafowl quivering back and forth, her body itself weaving side to side. A noise coming from her, a quiet chirp, resembling a humming bird.
* She takes the weapon away from her chest, feeling it out with her hand and placing the other to the side, light coming from it. She slowly feels the weapon, barrel, canister, handle, the most BASIC shape of the gun being reflected with the light forming in her hand.
* And right before she can finish, her head recoils, her excitement pierced and woken up to reality by those words hitting her ears and sending her jumping to the side. So focused on it, she forgot it was there too.
* The light fractures in her hand, exploding into chains that wrap around her hand. A screech comes from her, letting go of the gun and bringing her hand to her forearm, grabbing onto the chains and pulling them off, before holding onto them.
* It's silence for a moment, she simply holding into her arm. The wind simply gone, the only thing the droid can hear is his breathing, and perhaps his heartbeat, well, he is not my character, but I do know what he is seeing.
* Harken, her arms limp, her peafowl fully open, tripling her size, staring directly at the person, that eyes going through his soul even while locked behind that heavy sandstone eyelid.
* She takes a step forward, and another, stopping for multiple moment before taking every single step between them and her, all at once. Her face now glued onto his.
> ´´. . .WHAT could you possibly want.´´
* She "shouts" at him, her voice not out-decibel-ing his, but in her voice's normal volume, it IS a shout. She didn't even take enough time to properly process what was said to her.
With a heavy flinch back, Killdroid stared as Harken chained her own hand on accident, his ears ringing for a moment. How could such a creature who requires silence be so loud, even if not for long?
He retreated back a little, hands supporting him on the grass. Nothing came out for a good second, likely due to fear and the close proximity, but he eventually made the effort to speak, no matter how annoying it felt.
"...the gun." His voice was still too loud. He didn't know how to quiet himself. "Could I have that back? It..." He took a breath, sparing himself for just a moment. Yet again, speaking was a task like this. "It's mine."
Though he knew internally that this probably wouldnt work, it's better to be passive. He was well aware that he'd been WAY too noisy by just talking, so maybe being passive and kind (or, well, the closest thing a blunt murder robot could get to kind) would even that out, even if only a little.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* She keeps walking sideways, taking about four to five steps before slowing down and stopping, her hand letting go as the struggle makes her grip uncomfortable, waving her hand up and down as she lets go.
- . . .I knew to them I was the Alien, but I couldn't help but feel so... I- I don't know the way to describe it. This thing was just so... Weird, I didn't understand any of the noises it made- Yes, yes, I could get their language, was very similar to mine but. . . What is their equivalent of a whimper? A laugh? What does "oh" mean in their terms?
* She tilts her head, flanking to the side and approaching the person face planted on the ground, lowering herself further before- She stops, lifting her head upwards, her peafowl opening 1/3 of itself.
- . . .While I considered my own memory a curse... It had its benefits, my long-term memory was really good, and my short-term. . . Enough to gain me something I wanted. Here it was a blessing, if you will.
* Her feet slams against the ground besides his head, dashing forward, her arm swings, palm open at the ground, hitting where she heard the metallic thud impact the asphalt. And there it was, now in her hands.
- . . .I didn't know its name at the time, but god I feel my heart aching when I fealt its metal against my skin, while permanently quiet, I was screaming inside. I did get a headache later from my own excitement, but enough of that.
* She stumbles side to side, her hand letting the gun fly up before catching it, stumbling back, then fourth, struggling to come to a stand still, Her peafowl fully opening as her hands wrap around the weapon.
- . . .A Lightning Spear.
Killdroid realized his mistake as the construct caught it. He made a noise against his will, not close to any particular word.
He went over to try and get up, but she'd snagged the weapon before he could even do anything. "Oh." He both thought and muttered once more, voice quivering a bit. This wasn't good, not at all. But could she even operate the thing?
"Sorry, that's... mine." He decided to foolishly lie, volume way too high to be safe with Harken. It wasn't his, and he wasn't sorry for anything. Why did he say sorry, actually? What was the point of that? Wait, why did he even speak in the first place? He scolded himself and sat on his knees, staring at the gun now in her hands. His mistake.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* She watched as the person walked forward, tilting her head and clicking once with her voice, and still in that crouched position, proceeded to walk right behind.
* She turns along, instead of walking sideways while her waits turns to keep up with the person, taking small steps forward and lowering her posture along. She is surprisingly agile and flexible for a 2.5~ Meter tall Sand Golem.
* But without even noticing, due to her lack of an eyes to see, she finds herself right besides the person's cheek, still thinking she is unseen, even if she finds herself right in point of view.
- ...I've been always quite curious, especially back in my younger days, where my height couldn't even reach half of a petal. Even if Pops told me that curiosity was for the dead. It still kept in my mind.
* Her hand, still touching against the ground, slides over towards the person's leg, stopping right before touching it, her head tilting to the side before flicking back, realizing that she might blow (her already blown) cover with her head movements.
- ...And now that I can afford to do it, considering nothing much poses me a threat here. I might as well take a look about the things around me, however... Ew they are. Their skin still gives me a bit of the creeps. But here went nothing.
[-] * And so she reached for the leg, grabbing and pulling onto it. Taking a step to the side to keep accompanying the person if they just so happened to move. Or to drag them along if they just so happen to not.
}Oh- Right. Dr. JVHS here! Let me explain something. . .
[-] Are not necessarily combat actions, but still can be changed according to the other person's view on the story. These can be avoided, blocked, or can modify a part of it and another not. In other words, what is written is NOT exactly what happens. That's for you to decide! Other M.O.D, he he.
Killdroid was unsettled as the construct followed him. He wouldn't dare speak, COULDN'T dare speak... but he was terrified either way. He had no idea that Harken didn't think that she could be seen, so he assumed the worst and thought, 'she's trying to hurt me'.
As he got done inspecting, he got up and just... walked. Pretty aimlessly, and only for around twenty seconds or so before he roudn that he'd had enough of this. He just needed to find a way to leave.
...and he would have found a time if he wasn't touched and subsequently grabbed.
At first, he simply froze with a little squeak of the voice, ragdolling as he was pulled. He just lie there for a good three seconds before Harken began to pull, leading to a sudden panic and attempt to break free. One that was very weak, and very pointless. All he did was try and pull his leg away a bit, but being human came with weaker, harder to control joints and limbs.
He just let himself be pulled after that, festering with embarrassment. Might as well let whatever was about to happen, happen. Unless he gets hurt. Then he'll try and shoot-
...wait, he let go of the gun.
Well fuck!
"...oh." He let his voice out on accident as he stared at the gun, very much not in his hands anymore.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
* The former-robot seems to choose to analise the trees, which don't seem to have been made from a corpse impact, the cut too clean, with that same glitter staining the tree. The exact same can be said for the rest of the trees, which isn't a large amount, only three to four of them seem to be in that state, yet all stained with that glitter.
* For the ground, inside the craters, the falling glitter seemed to have formed a little pile, and it does look like sand. Although its light is a lot brighter then it should be, even with the sun this hot, the sand has no reason to fight against its shine in such manner.
* Talking of the sun, it seems to have calmed down weirdly enough, the shadow of a tree covering the person and letting the cold breeze fly by. Atleast it serves as a break for- That shadow is not from a tree.
. . .
- . . .I was back there, retracing my steps, I found myself in that site, someone there.
* Stands the construct behind the droid, looming over him, her shadow completely covering the sun. Her peafowl risen, and her hands closed, but she doesn't seem to be going for a move.
- . . .I always choose to avoid conflict... W- Well, not QUITE an avoider of conflict but I still had to, even in situation like this were I was the bigger one at play. My mood wasn't going to help that, so I know why I was standing there instead of walking away.
- . . .But I had the advantage, they didn't know I was there, why didn't I attack immediately? Barge their head against the ground and just leave with a body...
* She lowers her legs, getting onto the height on the person, using her arms to keep her balance in the ground, tilting her head and taking listen of the person in front of her.
It was... weird to inspect it all. All of these trees were coated in something, similar to sand, but... brighter. Killdroid squinted a bit more, assuming it was a mixture of both it and glitter that someone had found. With the trees however, he was caught at a corner. What could have done that?
Then the sudden shadow hit, and though there was a bit of temporary relief, looking at the shadow cast and trying to look up to spot the sun lead to a revelation that made his new heart pound in his chest. He hated the feeling of fear, hated how quick it slapped him in the face. As he looked down he thought, 'How did I not realize that she was right there?'
Instead of trying to calmly engage as per usual protocol, he just took in a breath and walked forward, trying to ignore the threat at hand. If he ignored her and didn't serve as something worthwhile to attack, maybe she'd leave. He didn't know, he didn't have almost all of notes on her anymore. He didn't have notes on anyone at all except for himself, and those notes weren't placed within an organized .txt file in his systems. They were messy and engraved into his head.
Walking over to one of the trees and kneeling down, he inspected whatever this sand was. Tried to test for some kind of consistency as silently as he could. He knew to be quiet around her, at the minimum. He just didn't know if she'd believe him if he spoke and tried to explain whatever the fuck this was.
* Its quiet in the streets, if they can even be called that anymore, the age of the concrete layed down upon the ground has caught up to it, filled with holes and crates, much to the dismay of the feet of who walk upon these roads. The unfortunate bastard marching through the roads being The Judgment Droid, now in human form.
* Its hard to say how pleasant or horrific the climate is, the wind blows cold, the leaves fly across the sky, but GOD DAMN THE SUN, blasting down onto the concrete, boiling it hotter then the fuel used for their rockets. At least the nearby trees allows for some shade.
* Yet further onto the streets, something stains the concrete, droplets of crimson, few of the trees nearby carved with punch-wounds, a messy state for the already messy street. But something else stains the streets, unnatural, the sun bouncing off it and causing the ground to almost glitter. Is it sand?
[RP STARTER]
[From yours truly, @death-by-sound]
It's bright.
[ CIVILIAN KILLDROID ;; 6/8 ]
( INTERACTION )
Killdroid kept an hand over his eyes and his newfound gun in the other, almost blinded by the sun. He wanted to look, really did, but he knew of the dangers. He may be naive, but he wasn't downright stupid.
The city wasn't something he was around often; it was something he'd familiarized within the beginning stages of the apocalypse. Nowadays he usually hung out in the temple, where it was quieter and easier to hear sounds that were out of place. He didn't need to deal with criminals for now though, so might as well see what all's changed with this flesh bag of a body he got forcibly put in.
First, the wind was much more tolerable. The cold air served as a sort of cushion for the wrath of the sun, though not much. He watched as leaves blew by with a sort of amusement, noticing more things than he usually did with a sort of... whimsy to it, let's say. His eyes actually gleamed, and his interest was piqued every once in a while. He didn't like that fact though. It made him feel squishy, squishier than he already was.
He trailed sidewalk, looking down and noticing all of the imperfections. What was with all of the detail spotting all of a sudden? He didn't like details, and it felt moronic to feel encapsulated by all of the differences in the concrete from wear... until he noticed a stain, and looked up a little.
Blood. It stained the pavement and asphalt in small amounts, but the bark and now exposed wood of nearby trees got it worse. They were drenched in certain spots, as if someone or something had been slammed against it by something unnatural. He couldn't put his mind to what, but he knew it was something. He just... couldn't remember the name...
...he glazed over that though. That's a panic attack for another moment. There was a sparkle of some kind around, it seemed. What was that? It didn't look like glitter... god, being human is difficult for more than just movement and adjustment; he couldn't pinpoint anything either.
Killdroid decided on approaching the nearest blood-splattered tree, squinting a bit as he walked over, assuming that someone was just brutally attacked here. Most likely multiple someones. Yeah, that's probably what happened. Right?
"Horrible. Absolutely and utterly horrible. I feel weak." He takes a moment to breathe. "Why would you do this to me? Again? Do you enjoy seeing me like this, unable to fight back and do a-... anything at all?"
ohhh youre all squishy and punchable now. hows it feel? are you hungry?
"I feel absolutely horrible. I am a robot within a flimsy and brittle body made of flesh, blood and bone. What do you think?"
He attempts to get up, but falls back against the wall. The guy is STRUGGLING.
"And... no? I do not think I am. I do not..." He takes a breath, choking on air for a moment. Speaking isn't the easiest and most comfortable thing in the world, even if it comes naturally to him. "...I do not wish to know what hunger feels like."
Turn Killdroid into a gunslinger civilian for 5-8 asks. Make him into the thing he hates most
(its okay if you dont wanna do this :D)
Ah, not again...
Just like last time, he stumbles and falls back against a nearby wall or the Temple. That same hyper-awareness came back in full force, along with the difficulty of moving and attempting to function.
"...ow." His voice rang in his throat. Ew, ew, ew, it felt disgusting to talk. Not an unknown feeling, however...
