Professional daydreamer, unprofessional writer, totally not prepared pastors wife. She has a lot going on and nothing to organize it. Maybe that is why the ADHD is spilled all over the floor.
Picrew tag game!- Create yourself now vs how you looked when you were a kid
Link
I was tagged by @cutebisexualmess for this but the chain was too long so I'm restarting!
If only that little girl could see me now (she'd probably think I was cool tbh)
uhm tagging: @b3achfagz (ik you dont do tag games so u can just ignore this but i though u might find it cool) @cassiecryptic @viktheviking1 @depressedgremlinbitch @ramencat12 @inkyslimee @the-horrifying-digital-circus @patipati @cute--thing @musicalsiphonophore @tastetherainbow290 @disenchantedwarlock @bookishcatcafe and anyone else who sees this and thinks it looks cool!!
Tagging: @cement-flavoured-ice-cream @valleyfthdolls @fearmypotatoes @confusing-content @garlicbrede @katt-sports @junipertheidiot and anyone who wants to join/nf
no pressure to do it of course & feel free to let me know if you don't wanna be tagged in stuff like this: @terrac0tta-m0mmy @ghostlycoyote0 @prince-frederic @scrolpencer @bardace @witchkittymeow @littlebleubirb @notabeanie
Hahaha! I was a weird kid with a strange sense of justice. Now I am a mom with a surprising amount of peace. I am happy that there where mature options. (Being 30 and all…)
When I heard that the game Stray was finally out I was only vaguely keeping an eye on it at the time. To me, it was that cat game that had been in development for a while, so when it came out I was not expecting to jump into it right away.
Boy, did I wish I should have played it sooner. When I finished playing it I had something of a raging itch to have more of the game. The lore of the world had me hook line and sinker, and I had to have some kind of outlet to let it out.
I could not draw, but I had an idea for a character that I was begging my twin sister to draw for me, just like we were in grade school again. She was in art collage at the time so she did not have much time for my raving, but a rough sketch was born and my itch was sated.
For a while at least… Beryl became my baby and soon I found myself writing about her to calm myself down in between the times I could sit down at work. All I wanted to do was to dive into this world so badly, so getting back into an old hobby seemed to be my saving grace.
Jumping on to Twitter I found that other people online were making their own OCs. I found one particularly friendly person and I just had to play along with their character. I made a cute role-play comment and out popped this cute picture by @Lenny_lazyDraw of their character Cleo with Beryl.
As my fanfiction began to take form I began to chat more and more online with others of the fandom. To be honest, you guys have been the ones to keep me company for a long time, and I want to reassure you all that while I am not on the internet that much anymore I am still alive and well and still thinking about you all on the physical side of life. But as for my time on fanfiction, I also took some time on Discord. Discord for me was a place where I could have real conversations with people. If it was not face-to-face it was through text, and there was no pressure to have likes and to post pictures. You could truly be anonymous and somebody at the same time.
I was invited to a roleplay server called TheStraycord by none other than ThemSoundwaves. It started on the unofficial Stray server with us talking each other's ears off and finding we had some things in common. A love for writing, dubstep, and the silly. When she invited me over to TheStraycord I immediately made myself comfortable and dove into a role play. I was on that server every day, and soon I caught the eye of none other than a “Dumbfoundbot.”
Also known as ViralPenny on Twitter, Dumbfoundbot surprisingly loved the characters that I created, not knowing that I have made fanfiction of my beloveds. On Twitter, they asked for OCs that they could draw for people. My twin sister and I both volunteered and found later our characters had their portrait done.
I would not be surprised if he heard me scream in delight from my home in Florida all the way in the Philippines, because he for sure did not stop. Before I knew it a picture of Whitney was made as well.
Folks, to say I died would not be enough to express how happy I was. I could tell the feeling was mutual for the artist because when we were finished with the roleplay these art pieces popped in chat.
And they are adorable!
What a week that had been! I am glad that happened as well because for some reason this series of events kicked off my twin sisters’ inspiration like none other. Not only did she get into her Stray Oc character more over time, but she finally did a full-color character sheet of Beryl.
Just in time to show it off on her graduation day as well. And while I hope she draws more I hope even more that she draws for herself. Even her sketches I adore. Here is one she did on chapter 5.
While things have slowed down a bit, that being the Stray fandom on A03 and currently my time on this fandom, life in the real world has sped up. Having my first child and recovering from major surgery had taken a number out of me. But I am glad that everyone else is still moving forward. Heck, I am especially happy that ThemSoundWaves is finding time to draw as well. She gave me a phenomenal take on Dr.Mike and I look forward to adding his description more to future chapters.
Artists, I love all of your art. Please continue to love what you do and don’t let what is going on in the world stop you from doing what you love, especially with this AI nonsense going around. As for my readers, please go check out and support these artists. They deserve all of their hard work to be rewarded.
Automatic Heritage will continue. The next chapter is about to be completed, it just needs some time. I do know that this project will continue as long as I can see that there is interest, that being kudos and comments. Not that I am holding this story over my reader's head, but that I am going to use this as a way to see that there are people interested and to stay faithful to the few that are. No point in forcing myself to write when there is no activity.
Thank you again my friends, and may the sun shine warm upon your face.
*closes document* “ah… that should be it…” *gets notification from Discord* *opens Discord*
Shoutout to @the-colossal for a fun art fight last month! Here is my attack on him, featuring his oc Crane about to give the smackdown on my unsuspecting oc Cyan.
While here is his revenge towards me back!
I would love to continue this chain of attacks with you sometime if you are up to it man!
Two screens stared back at each other, the greener one flickering a bit, trying to check if her optics were fooling her. After a long time, she took some steps forward. “Cyan, is that you?”
A weak smile flickered back as the blue-screened bot chuckled and shrugged; the pain kept her from moving much as she leaned against Whitney. “Who else? I told you I would come back.”
Beryl's eyes welled as she closed the distance and embraced her twin sister. Only Cyan's detriment of pain made Beryl ease up on her embrace.
“Careful, careful, OW! I have scratches that need fixing.”
Beryl art by @arcanedragoness
“I'm sorry.” Beryl's voice rose in pitch. “I got too ambitious; I ruined your birthday.”
Cyan silently thanked the creators that it was impossible to cry actual water-based tears; otherwise, the hug would have stung more. She pushed the pain aside, wanting to make her twin's pain a priority. “We both made the decision Beryl. It was about time you pushed me to find something new.”
Beryl lifted her chin from her sister's shoulder. “You found something?”
“Those numbers did lead somewhere?” Beryl's husband interjected.
Cyan untangled herself from her sister's embrace as another bot approached. Benzo made no hesitation. “Dr. Mike is on his way, tools and everything. Do you want me to pack your bags?”
Her screen dimmed. “No, it's not like there is anything to pack.” She nodded to her beaten and torn backpack behind her. “Besides, got these.”
Sweat marks emoted on the scruffier bots screen. “Oh yeah, your apartment is infested…”
Wood clinking on the ground nearby brought everyone's attention toward the elevator. The Guardian stood with a grocery bag of items extended in his hand. “That is quite alright; we have already packed some items for you.”
Cyan could make out the items in it by silhouette alone. There were two cans of spray paint, some brushes, and a rectangle brick-like device. “My tablet?” she asked, taking the bag.
The Guardian tipped his hat. “I had given myself time to grab something when the Zurks attacked; I knew one of my favorite students would have been heartbroken if she had just lost her new prize.”
Blush lines glowed on Cyan's face. “Sifu, you are too kind.”
“And you are barely walking!”
Everyone turned to see the surgeon's approach. He was barking orders when he came closer. “Whitney, pick her up and place her on the lawn chair I have set up near the elevator. Those sentinels are giving me the creeps; best to show them that Cyan is not lollygagging.”
“You got it, boss.” Whitney scooped his sister-in-law up and hustled to the elevator without hesitation, Dr. Mike in tow. Beryl followed the two, trying to speak up over Cyan's detestments of needing to be carried.
“Wait, what are we talking about here? What’s going on?”
Her husband turned around, breaking his stride briefly. “The elevator is coming down.”
“And I need to get on it.”
The group did a double take on Cyan's response, exclaiming “WHAT?!” all at once. The dark blue-screened bot's only response was to roll her eyes as she let herself continue to be carried to the lawn chair. Settling down in it she sighed. “Where do I even begin? I do know that someone in a place called Midtown wants me to work for them.”
“What is a Midtown?” Beryl asked with a question mark screen.
“Town, my love. Like what we live in now.” Whitney corrected her.
She dident get the idea. “But we live in the slums?”
Just as the doctor contemplated helping with Beryl's word issue, a voice seethed from afar. Clementine was marching toward the elevator, and she did not seem happy. Momo was right behind her, his face showing a different form of unhappiness, more nervous than her rage.
Sitting up stiffly in her chair she mustered her strength and did her best to diffuse the situation. “Clementine! Momo! I’m alive!”
Momo had beads of sweat now. "Oh, thank the ancestors! We worked..."
"My team was out looking for you and in that short time you somehow got in contact with the upstairs?"
The nervous bot was now looking at Clementine, who interrupted him. He began to reassure her. "I got it recorded; you technically didn't miss a thing."
A blush appeared on Cyan's screen, forcing her to look embarrassed. Taking a moment to hide her emotions from what she felt was her worst moment of being, she looked back up to the outsider.
“W-well, not exactly,” she stammered, “it was more of a ‘they found me’ situation.”
"So there are more companions up there?" Clementine asked.
Momo stammered and stumbled in front of the two. "The lady did say that she had a team that she wanted Cyan to join. So it makes sense that there are more..."
More voices began to blend in as companions started to crowd the area. The group became surrounded by curious bystanders and bots concerned with Cyan's condition. All of this attention vanished as the rumble of the elevator became louder. A rusty hand rested on the orange fembot through all of the commotion, greeting her with a smile. “Clementine! I heard the news! Congratulations!”
She spun to see Zbalthizar. “Where is Doc? Did he hear anything on his end?”
Eyes became wide open at this statement. “Did he not tell you? He is experimenting…”
A loud clang interrupted the whole crowd. The elevator had finished its descent to a rusty stop while the courtyard became unbearably still. Everyone glanced at each other and the ominous object while some bots hid and a few more dared to step forward. Beryl instinctively hid behind her husband. “Whitney, what do we do?”
He did not say a word as he took his hockey stick and stood guard, waiting. The air felt tense as the sentinels who guarded the front of the elevator came to hover to its sides, facing each other. By the time someone decided to inch a step forward the door lifted.
And three ominous lenses walked forward.
The whole crowd watched when two of the new companions with security cameras for heads stepped forward from one in the middle. Both were dressed in uniform, while the middle wore a pinstripe vest. They scanned the crowd.
Beryl looked to Whitney. “Are they?...”
“Peacekeepers…” He replied, “I haven't seen them in decades.”
“What is a Peacekeeper?” Beryl heard someone whisper.
“Is she here? Or did she die?”
Everyone just stared when the vested peacekeeper spoke. He became more irritated, took out a cigarette, lit it, then jammed it into a crack in his head. “Well?”
The silence was too much. Cyan awkwardly got up from her position on the lawn chair, almost tripping on herself from the sense of urgency. “I-I’m here, sir! We are just finishing up some things. We had an unexpected uh…”
“I know what happened!” He spat. “For bot's sake, spare me the details.” He swiveled around and waved her to the elevator. “Someone thinks you are valuable. An interesting take, seeing you come from this hell hole.” The fans in his head puffed out smoke. “Get in before I change my mind.”
A new feeling burned through her chest. This time, Cyan knew it was not Zurk wounds. She turned to her family and friends and found that the Guardian had already slipped a plastic shopping bag into her hand. “You will be missed, my student.” his hollow voice was low. “Take all that you have, and all that you know, and build something beautiful from it.”
“That is if you take care of yourself!” Mike got up from his tool chest. “If you don’t find a doctor while up there…”
Cyan lifted her hand and held him back with a press on his chest. “Don’t you worry your head off. I'm standing, aren't I? Plus, you taught me how to solder. I will be fine.”
The vested one was leaning on the inside of the elevator now. “Pick it up! I don’t have all day! Jesus Christ!”
“Watch your mouth, buddy.” Whitney spat.
“I ain’t your buddy, pal.” He spat back.
Cyan looked between the two bickering robots and then up at the elevator shaft. It seemed to have grown longer the last she looked. The crowd of watching companions behind her all watched her with familiar faces. She wondered to herself if she should have spent more time with them.
“Hey.”
The soft voice with a guiding hand pulled her into her sister's view. Cyan knew Beryl was the one she was going to miss the most. Her shoulders slumped as she gazed at her screen. “I'm sorry for not making time for you. I know I have been a bit distant as of late.”
Beryl smiled and held her twin sister’s hand. “Don’t worry about distance. We got some authentic birthday time together, didn't we?”
Cyan's face blurred. “Oh Beryl, always on the bright side.” She wrapped her twin in the tightest embrace she could muster. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
Her sister felt her sorrow grow in shakes and couldn't help her tears. “Me, too Cy.” She warbled “You are going to do great. You know that? Don’t doubt yourself for a minute while you are up there.”
Untangling, hands were held and let go. Nothing was said, while the meaning was understood. With a final look, Cyan turned towards the elevator. Whitney chuckled before she took a step forward. “What, I don’t get a hug?” He asked.
Cyan pulled him in without hesitation. “Come here, you doofus.”
The vested stranger gave a huff. “Come on, let's GO!”
Whitney gave him a thin-lined glare, promptly turned Cyan around by the shoulders, and whispered into her monitor. “Kill him with kindness for me.”
She leaned towards his pats on her shoulder and snickered. “Always.” Before she could take a step forward a blur of orange and brown strode forward. The peacemakers were quick to respond, snapping their batons into extension. “Stop! You are not permitted to enter!”
Clementine jammed a digit into one of the peacemaker's lenses. “You will bring me up on this elevator whether you like it; or not! I live in this city and I have a right to leave it.”
“Clementine, this is not the way to do this.” Guardian scolded, but the leader of the Outsiders ignored his warnings and stepped inside the elevator. A brutal hit into her gut doubled her over onto the floor, and the other peacemaker kicked her away from the entrance.
The leader took some heavy steps forward. “If any one of you gets the same idea the same thing will be done to you!” He barked, pointing to Clementine on the ground. She in turn gave him a dirty look. Nobody dared make the challenge as he gave the crowd a stare-down. “Come on blue, let's go.”
It took a moment for Cyan to realize that he meant her, and she hustled in to avoid any more scolding. As soon as she was in with the Peacemakers the gate was closed behind her, and a big red button was pressed. She watched her home one last time as she ascended to her new one. The slums below all turned screens to follow.
“There she goes…” Beryl's voice was almost delicate. “Off to her new…” She interrupted her thought process as her eyes became wide and ran to the front of the crowd, now shouting. “Wait! Cyan! I forgot to tell you! I got the upgrade!!”
Only dark blue eyes could be barely be seen as Cyan called back. “What?!”
Beryl huffed as she turned her volume up. “We found a pregnancy upgrade!”
“I still can’t hear you!”
“ I AM GOING TO BE A MOM aw screw it there is no way she can hear me now.” Beryl swiveled around, giving a huff as she turned her back to the empty elevator floor and gave a pout. Her gaze into space wavered as she realized that everyone around her beamed faces of genuine surprise.
Her husband was the brightest out of all of them, accompanied by the goofiest grin a companion could emote and silly dance. Nervously laughing she began to hide behind her poncho. “Oh… I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
Fatigue hit me hard. They were right. Becoming a mom is exhausting.
But I got my mojo back, and that is what matters. I could not get it edited by my husband this time, but I feel I did a good job with what I could this time.
“I don’t even know what to say to her, Guard. Honestly, I was not expecting this.”
Whitney was slumped on the ground with his head and hands between his knees. The Guardian stood over him, choosing a relaxed posture on his staff this time rather than keeping his skills in check as a habit. The meditation circle ignored the two as Guardian started the conversation with him. “She has been through a lot in two days my friend, it could be all of her emotions have come to a head.”
Whitney lifted his head and placed them in his hands, slumping forwards to rest them. “Have I not been paying attention to her? I… I feel…”
Guardian patted the top of the pastor's head and gave him a teasing biz. “I didn’t see it coming either, give her time, she will come back with a clear head.”
The two sat in silence for a while. It had been so quiet that Whitney thought he heard the inner workings of the companions in the meditation circle singing together. The Guardian sat down, placing his staff in front of him. “So… Do you have any names planned?”
As soon as he asked this, multiple heads popped up. The meditation circle quickly became a gossip circle.
“Oh please do tell! I am dying to know!”
“Are you two planning an old human name? Maybe a natural name?”
“I know this is probably too soon to ask, but can I babysit sometime?”
“Please!” Whitney interjected with an exasperated bleep. “We don’t even know if my wife has made a decision yet. Can we just wait on her until then?
Triple beeps announced behind the circle, and the whirls of flight motors puttered closer. The pastor knew the sentinels guarding the elevator shaft by sound alone. Leaning back he swatted empty air at them. “And I have heard enough from you two, you no good bucket of bolts.”
As soon as he said this, both sentinels' lights turned from green to yellow, causing the group of companions to scatter away from them. Guardian and Whitney brandished their weapons, but the sentinels did not move closer. The rest of the mediation group huddled behind the brave companions, not daring to move closer and trigger a red glare from the elevator guards.
“They are not firing.” Guardian pointed out as he glanced down at the sentinels scanning beams on their bodies.
Whitney grimaced as he looked at the Guardian. “Let’s keep it that way.” Using his stick to defend the group the pastor began to guide the slum's residents away from the elevator shaft, but a big clang from above drew his attention away.
The Guardian did not shift his gaze on the floating drones. “Whitney, what is going on?”
Whitney saw something moving from the top of the wall downwards. Down the shaft. “The elevator is coming down.”
“What?” The Guardian almost dropped his staff as he swivels to the group then to the elevator. His eyes became wide, but his orders stayed calm. “Everyone prepare! Be on guard, but don’t attack! This is a yellow situation!” As everyone scrambled to prepare, the Guardian turned to see Whitney looking the other way, unmoving. “Whitney?”
“Cyans back!” He bolted, not looking back to the elevator.
“So, what do you know about pregnancy?”
Beryl shook in her seat next to Gwap. The robot always had an intimidating face, much like Seamus’, but she was used to his kind of apathy. Gwap, on the other hand, just wasn’t a bot she hung out with much, so being in this close proximity to a practical stranger was sensor-wracking.
Before Beryl could answer Gwap wrapped her spare blanket around her guest’s shoulders and monitor. Beryl blushed. To Beryl’s surprise, Gwap smiled. “There, now we can have a conversation. Speak up.”
Beryl felt more comfortable but still shy. “Well, um…” she snuggled deeper into the blanket and grew pinker. “I know how to start it.”
“THANK BOT!” Gwaps normally half-lidded eyes widened. “I don’t have to explain the screws and the bolts to you!”
Sweat drops formed on Beryl's screen, but she could not help but giggle. Gwap was back to business. “Step one is covered. So once you get your upgrade installed and step one is completed, how do you know you are pregnant?”
“Wait, I have to get this installed into my body?” Beryls twilled in confusion. “I thought we would install it into the child's body.”
Gwap was still deadpan. “Your mother didn't tell you anything did she?”
Beryl looked at her lap. “I’m generation one, I technically don’t have a mother.”
“No Mom?” Deadpan turned to surprise, but Gwap continued “But you are so young! I just assumed because of that.”
“Yeah no, I get that a lot. I was found wandering the streets with my sister when we first became sentient. Honestly, we were not really aware of much when we were found, kinda like toddlers really. Thank goodness the slum residents found us.” Beryl nervously played with her hands. “If I remember correctly you came to us just after the slums became the only livable place left in the city.”
Gwap nodded, “That's right.” she looked away with a thoughtful hum. “First generation huh? The first companions to gain sentience on their own.”
Beryl shrugged “I was just late. Can’t blame me for coming online later than everyone else.”
The older one hummed, “Yeah I suppose not.” She re-adjusted her seating. “Let me show you something.”
Unraveling her iridescent blanket she showed her guest another blanket underneath, wrapped more snugly around her body than the other one. “Come close,” she ordered.
Leaning over as she loosened the second blanket, Beryl could see what she was hiding. Nestled in her lap was a small metal being, a companion she had seen only rarely before. Their brown-speckled screen was empty of facial features, and attached to the back of their neck was a thin cable that was anchored to her abdomen. Gwap scooped the being into her arm and brought them close. “Beryl, meet Kory.”
The mother brought Beryl's hand close to her child; her guest’s screen sparkled the whole time. Slowly, tiny fingers found their way around a single digit of hers, unaware but exploring. A coo emitted from Beryl in a hushed whisper. “Hi, Kory!”
“How you find out is by keeping an eye on your abdomen.” Gwap’s hand moved to where the cable connected, where most companions had a trapezoid piece in place. “The rims of this will glow, and then you know it is time to connect. The infant model will then take data that both you and your husband have collected into the upgrade and then your child will start the transfer process. This is when your child will start forming a soul of their own. They will finish around 9 months.”
Beryl's smitten face began to droop in the middle of the mother's lecture and slowly removed her hand from the child. “Gwap, that is all very fascinating, but I don’t think I can do this....” She paused to correct herself. “I don’t think I should be a mother.”
Gwaps face squinted. “Because you made a mistake?” Beryl only replied with silence.
Gwap huffed. “Well, that is awfully selfish of you.”
A startled beep and an exclamation point emitted surprise from the younger adult. “Excuse me?”
The mother continued. “Our people are dying off and you think you are doing us a service by cutting off the most qualified and loving bot in this hole from ever having a child? A child you wanted in the first place?”
“But there is no point!” Tears formed on Beryl's screen “Our city is never going to open, we are never going to find a way out…” her screen began to spark. “Children deserve the best and this is not the best! it’s… it’s.”
Gwap wrapped back up her child and grabbed both of Beryl's hands. “Beryl you need to calm down!” She said firmly. “You are alright, but you must clear your processors and think straight.” She held both sides of the panicky bots head. “Think about your loved ones, they need you. Your husband is probably worried sick now.”
Beryl's face cleared when Gwap mentioned Whitney. She did just ditch him. He was probably beyond confused. “I’m sorry Gwap.” She said “wiping” a tear.
Gwap garbled. “Don’t say sorry to me you dolt! You are putting too much on yourself.” She huffed, looking off to the side thinking hard. She continued. “No point? Pfft! Ridiculous.” Her hands came to rest around her child. “Why are we striving for the good then? I have seen you with Swanito talking about what real stars look like and with Momo about humans. You learn and share because there is no hope?”
Beryl thought about interjecting, but she let Gwap continue. “If there is no hope, why are we adapting? You could've ignored sentience and kept following man-made code, but you didn’t. You have made gardens and songs that make people smile. Even other companions have chosen to give us upgrades to live like humans. We adapt to life because we see the potential for good, and I would say that is a good start.”
Beryl's eyes followed Gwaps hands as she held Beryls open, palms up and empty. “And even if everything was taken away from you, your possessions, your skills, and people, you already have so much. You are a part of the world we live in, so don't darken your sights by only looking at yourself.” She then gripped them tightly. “There are things that work without you, so you might as well stick around for them. Take my child for example.”
Gwap held Kory again. “Kory has no skill, no knowledge, and lives in a dark city. But he has a mother who loves him, new people to meet, and new skills to learn. Those are good things. I will not give up on him because of who he is now. I will love and cherish him to show what he can become and what is ahead. I don’t know of one bot in the slums who will give up on you either, so don’t expect yourself to be the only bearer of your burdens. I expect you to do the same in sharing, not only with your child but with others as well.”
Beryl looked at her hands and curled them around her own blanket when Gwaps lecture ended. She could almost envision her own child in her arms. Small, but so full of potential. What a beautiful idea. Her thoughts were hers for a while, that was until she bubbled with giggles. “Your right, Gwap. I completely forgot. How could I have forgotten?” She looked back to the moving bundle snug to Gwaps stomach. Kory's little hand wormed its way out, reaching towards the ceiling. Small drones emitted from the tiny being.
Gwap softly smiled at the two. “You have gone through a lot Beryl. Our thoughts become clouded when darkness overwhelms us. If this happens again remember there is no shame in stepping away and relying on others who want to help.”
Beryl looked up at her new friend. “Thank you Gwap, for everything.”
A cry sounded somewhere in the city, it repeated as it reverberated past them. Gwap urged Beryl to stand. “Your husband, that's him!”
Beryl knew she was right - that was Whitney’s voice. She stood, leaving the blanket behind. Scooping up the pregnancy upgrade from the ground in front of her she stowed it in her poncho pocket and made her way down the alleyway, waving as she ran. “I will never forget this Gwap!”
Gwap only scolded her more “Hussle! Talk later!”
Beryl turned her attention back to the calls of her husband as she neared the sound. “Whitney” she cried, “Whitney, I'm here!”
She turned to the alleyway that led to the elevator. In its bright illumination, she could see two familiar figures, one hunched over as the other supported and surrounded by others.
Her two favorite people. Her husband…
And her sister.
I hope you like this one. What can I say, I am a sucker for speculative biology. I wanted to give a detailed headcanon on how these bots might come to make kids...
On another note, God also likes to be funny. As of writing this, I am 8 months pregnant. I myself have a kiddo on the way!
But as for Beryl that is to be seen...
As for future chapters, they are going to be a while. Pregnancy is kicking my ass so I am tired all of the time. So please give me some grace for the future.
Also, check out what a friend doodled me as a joke. I have roleplayed Beryl and Whitney with him and he seems to like them a lot. Had to have their own characters react to my own.
EVERYONE MEET IKKI, TOMO, AND ZANE! Vari's Stray OC's. Might sneak them into the story. You can find more art of them on Twitter at @Dumbfoundedbot.
lol look at my blorbos
#inktober #bait I don’t know if elasmosaurus would be threatening to humans if it lived today. But it sure would be unnerving to see them up close!
https://www.instagram.com/p/B3dR5aqARR1/?igshid=14senjbd2q3ip
The doctor could not take Beryl in until the following morning, but this did not bother her. Her husband Whitney, however, was insistent that she was to get it done early even when she did not want to get out of bed the next day. When she showed no signs of budging he picked her up and carried her to her appointment.
Soon Beryl found herself on the surgeon's table, the drill noise not bothering her one bit. It was done before she knew it.
“And like that your foot is as good as new Mrs. Beryl. Give it a wiggle and tell me how you feel.” Despite the surgeon’s chipper attitude, the patient’s mood did not change. She looked apathetically down at her new foot. Lying lazily on the slanted table she moved the tip of her foot by an inch and sighed.
Art by @arcanedragoness
Her husband looked up from his reading and set the Bible on the table next to his chair. His eyebrows crinkled as he looked from the doctor to her. He had seen that face on her many times, but this one seemed to bear a deeper sadness. Getting up, he walked over to her and took her hand into his, carefully stroking her fingers. He watched them curl around his own. “I'm glad you did not lose your hands,” he said with a smile.
Beryl's speech was weak. “I want Cyan…”
The surgeon spoke up as he wheeled his stool to his desk, jotting something down on a clipboard. “Well, whether or not you actually use your foot, I know that it works. I pulled out all the stops on this baby. It's some of my finest work yet!" He patted the clipboard, and pulled out the paper to pin to a board labeled ‘payment due.’ “Looking forward to payment when you can Whitney, no rush.”
Whitney flashed him a grin. “It’s appreciated, Mike,” Feeling a bump to his arm he looked down to see his wife had curled herself closer to him. Without hesitation, he bent down and kissed the top of her monitor. “God is watching out for her, don’t you worry Beryl.”
Beryl's screen was dimly lit, “I know, it’s just… this is all my fault.”
He lowered down to her eye level. “All you wanted was to discover something good, Beryl, that’s all. Please focus on the positives for now my love.”
Her mouth became a squiggle; she didn’t believe him, but her gut told her she had to. There were too many times when he was right. “Okay.” She softly replied.
Kissing the top of her head one more time Whitney scooped her to her feet, as well as did a little dance in the hope of making her smile. She did, briefly, then hid the smile in his shirt, holding him close.
He sighed. “Let’s get going, we have a mandatory meeting soon.”
“Before you go Whit!” Dr. Mike piped up, rising from his seat to reach for something on a high shelf. “I know now is probably not the best time to bring this thing out…” He pulled out a long black aluminum stick, decorated in red stripes. With two hands he presented it to Whitney.
The pastor took it in his hands, his wife still holding him close. “My hockey stick? Mike, you do remember that I just about killed…”
He raised his hand to silence him as he stowed his other in his pocket. “It doesn't matter. I found it where you last threw it. I figured if another incident like last night ever happened again, you are at least armed with the best tool you got. No sense in wasting multipurpose cleaner. Besides, you got that pretty wife to look after.”
Beryl turned to glare at the doctor. Embarrassed, he looked away. “I know, I know! Don’t worry Mrs. Beryl I still respect you. Not exactly the best habit to bring back up. Rest assured that you won’t be seeing “dark” Mike anytime soon.” He looked back to his friend. “But I wanted to give this to you because I know without a shadow of a doubt that the “Wolf of the Dead City” is never coming back. I know you are never going to think about bashing my lens in.”
Whitney displayed a screen of darker blue with beads of sweat. “Yeah… we are definitely never going back to that again.”
“Never again.” Dr. Mike assured. He walked past the couple and exited the door, smirking. “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep the ‘Guard man’ waiting.”
“You mean Guardian?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Everyone in the slums huddled around the base of the elevator with enough room to give to both the Guardian and the sentinels. Slums residents knew that the sentinels would not harm them as long as they did not touch the elevator, but that did not stop them from looking out for others who were near it. Beryl was surprised at how many companions showed up, even bots with workplaces had come out for the event. She squeezed herself in, hoping to hide in the crowd. Hoping that she was forgotten.
Hoping that everyone had forgotten about her involvement.
“Pssst! Hey, Ber!”
Her head swiveled to see a rainbow face smiling back at her. “You never told me you had a notebook.” he babbled, hanging the stationary covered in colorful tape and scribbles between his fingers.
“Momo?” A question mark blipped on her screen. “How did you get that?” It blipped more when she looked him over. “And what are you wearing?”
He looked down at what she saw and looked back at her with a smug grin. “Oh, this? Made this myself.” It was a green jacket with a plant life and flamingo pattern. Her friend popped his collar. “Thought it was time that this guy was to get an upgrade.”
“Okay, but how did you get my notebook?” Beryl interjected.
“Oh, Swanito shared…Wait… is that Whitney?”
Looking to the front the two could see both the Guardian and Beryl's husband, standing close and talking in hushed tones. When she drew closer Beryl could see Guardian's face pop to a surprise. A happy tweedle followed as well.
“What does my husband have planned?” She asked with a squint.
The meeting commenced when The Guardian hammered the ground with his staff, and conversations quieted. “As I am sure you are all aware, we had an attack last night. One that we were not prepared for…”
His pause did not help Beryl's nerves.
“Because of this, many have lost their homes, and it brings me great sorrow to report that it seems many have lost their lives and their loved ones as well.”
Nerves stung more. While the crowd was big, there were indeed some missing faces, and maybe some new ones from the deeper end of the city. This only brought thoughts back to her home. She would never cherish her bed again, or her greenhouse. Last night they were offered a place to sleep, but it wasn't the same. Some voices raised a bit, but their leader plowed through regardless.
“But we must keep hope, it is the only way we can survive. The only way we can bring back the ones lost in the dead city home. I have sent out a rescue team who holds that same hope. You all are aware of Benzoo, Iz, Zil, and Clementine, they are all brave bots.”
“Yeah, Clementine!”Momo hollered.
“Momo, shush!” Beryl scolded.
The Guardian gave the two a glance but stayed stoic. “They have already brought back some, but are still in search of one of the bots that were caught in the brunt of it.” she was caught off guard when he turned to her fully. “Beryl, if you could come to the front, please?
Heads turned to find Beryl in shock. Was he really going to bring her forward? She thought that he was just going to have a brief, albeit painful, mention of her, but he was already holding his gaze with no emotions. Faces full of shock and question marks moved aside to give her a path; sneaking away was not an option at this point. With shaky feet, she made her way to the front.
When she approached the Guardian he turned her around to face the crowd and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her husband came close to her side. Guardian continued. “Beryl was caught by a massive Zurk nest, on a quest to find new resources with her twin sister Cyan. Cyan is still out there, so if you all can lend your actions, thoughts, and prayers it would be greatly appreciated. As for Beryl, I ask for the same. She is hurting. She wanted nothing more than to bring good to the Slums and I will not stand for the sound of false accusations claiming that this ordeal was her fault.”
A grumpy orange bot surged forward. “Don’t you defend her! If she had been a bit more careful…!”
A loud crack smacked the concrete in front of Beryl’s feet, startling everyone. She snapped to see her husband had taken his hockey stick into a defensive position around her, a hand felt on her back and the blade of the stick guarding her front. Something akin to a growl rumbled through his speakers. Kosma backed off quickly without a word.
Guardian gave a red-faced frown Kosma, but his emotions flipped when he addressed the group. “Speaking of bringing good to the Slums, despite all that has happened, we do have some good news to share. Pastor Whitney, if you may.”
Removing his arm from Beryl’s shoulders the Guardian stepped away to give the couple the floor. Turning to face her husband Beryl saw him pull out a small box from his inside shirt pocket. It was the same paper-wrapped box he gave before her birthday. His forehead was tenderly leaning against hers as he gently placed it in her hands. “Remember this?” he asked.
Her hand thumbed at the paper. “Yeah…” she tentatively said as her face dimmed “Guess I never got around to opening it.”
“Open it now.” He told her softly. “I know you are going to love it.”
Beryl looked to him and then to the crowd. They seemed just as confused as she was. Why would he want to open a present in front of a whole group? She looked back to the box in her hand and gingerly peeled the tape.
Only halfway into unwrapping and her eyes bulged. This?! How did he find…?
“A child upgrade?!” Someone shouted. They were right. Peeling away more paper there properly in the companion language the box read just that, along with a cute picture of a newborn. Voices rose with gawks as hugs and hollers were exchanged. Beryl's hands shook, not paying attention to everyone’s comments around her.
“Another one was found! A new life is coming!”
“Beryl and Whitney are having a kid? They are going to be so cute!”
“You can have our spare crib!”
“I don’t want this.”
Everyone froze when Beryl cried those words, silence drenching the area. Her husband stood, mouth agape, while her screen was almost fizzing and popping. “Beryl?” Whitney asked, “What do you mean? I thought you did want this?”
“I am not fit to be a MOTHER, Whitney!” She bawled. “I just about killed everyone in this city! What kind of mom does that?”
“Beryl, anyone could have made that mistake, please calm down!”
She ignored him, “Not to mention that this city is DYING in the first place, and even if we find a way to survive we are just going to be sealed away in the dark FOREVER!” Stammering filled her speakers. "Have…Have you forgotten that we lost our HOME?!”
Whitney stood stunned, unsure of what to say to his wife as tears ran down her beryl face. He stammered. “Ber, I…”
She stormed off through the crowd while everyone flashed her a question mark. Not wanting to look one of them in the screen she broke out into a run, to get away from all of the congestion. Without looking where she was going she weaved through the alleyways, tears blurring her vision. Fortunately seeing was not necessary for her.
Stumbling she slumped against a wall. When she finally picked up her head a small bit of graffiti caught her sight. Blinking away pixels she read “Elliot Programing this way.” She was on the other side of the slums, or the new border of the slums. As far away as she could be from everyone.
So she cried because crying was all she wanted to do. After hiccuping what she could out of her system her fingers loosed their grip. In her hands, the box still stayed. “Why am I still holding on to it?” she wondered.
Backside finding the floor she droned a long sigh. Beryl knew that she was looking at something precious. An upgrade so small, yet so significant, and here she was in pain at the sight of it. Her arms dropping in her lap she bumped her head into the wall behind her. “What am I going to do?” Beryl said to no one.
“I don’t know.” A bundle of blankets nearby replied with tension. “What are you going to do?”
Beryl's head swiveled and the blankets became alive, moving aside to reveal a bothered Companion. Half-lidded the blanketed one complained, “Are you going to keep blubbering or are you going to sit and talk to one of the only bots in this pit who knows the experience of motherhood?”
“Gwap? I uh, well, I…” Beryl was swapping looks, from the box to the bot, unsure of what to make of the situation.
Gwap gave a heavy sigh and picked up a blanket next to her sitting area, then patted it. “Come on girl, we got a lot to discuss.”
There we were. Huddled behind my cart, a recycling lid as a shield on her back, and mi stellula squirming out of her arms and into mine. I held Chamomile tightly as the woman stared back at me, a surprised look on her screen.
And she was too close for my own comfort.
A wip by @arcanedragoness
“What are you doing here?” She raised her volume over the racket.
“Excuse me? What am I doing here? What are you doing with my Chamomile?”
Another firework cracked off of the makeshift fortress, causing her stance to falter and stumble on top of me. Her monitor dug into my shoulder while her feet scraped the concrete beneath us. She adjusted herself, but she was closer than before, her speaker not far from my audio processors. I could hear her mumbling something.
I closed my eyes. I wanted to be dismantled on the spot rather than be in this position. With every firework, I flinched.
And then her hand grasped above my knee.
My optics flicked on in horror when I felt it, and I could see the dark coloration of her blue hands grasped at my trousers. Dumbstruck I tried to wrap my head around her move, but when I moved to look at her face, her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth a scribble. I could feel her leaning on my bent leg, supporting herself while she held the lid with a death grip.
Was she afraid?
The impromptu show died down and we did not move until we heard voices again. I looked through the crack in our fortress to see companions coming out of their hiding places, still afraid something else might strike. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.
“Are you alright?”
I could feel the question travel down my neck and through my spine. Her voice was warm. How was it so warm?
I looked at her and was met with eyes that matched. “Sorry about…oh?” she began but was cut off when Chamomile wiggled out of my grasp. As the shield lowered Chamomile looked into the street, emitting sad drones as she looked around. The woman on the other hand did not let go of my leg, I became increasingly overwhelmed and shoved her off.
“Get off of me you dolt!”
She fell onto her backside, peeved. “Are you kidding me right now?” She barked
I got up and gave her a piece of my mind. “What in bots name gives you permission to manhandle my Chamomile like that?”
“Manhandle?” She said, ascending to her feet. “Did a firework hit your head? I saved her from getting hit!”
The audacity! “I would not be surprised if you were with those ruffians that set them off! You scruffy looking, shadow plunged, egotistical….” She closed the gap between us, and I was taken aback. “…Amazon?”
It was then that I realized that she was easily a head taller than me.
Her anger on her screen grew. “You make a lot of claims shorty.”
My voice box cracked. “Since when did you grow taller?”
The woman hissed “I have stayed the same, you have stayed behind your elevated platform of a desk the whole time and never came down from it.”
“Poppycock! You are an augmented hooligan!” I fought back.
“Hey dumb ——-,!”
We turned to find the woman's yellow friend to be apprehended by peacekeepers. Handcuffs pining yellows hands behind their back it was obvious that they looked rather peeved. “Tell these ————- that I didn't do anything.” They begged.
Torn from our argument we looked everywhere. I knew I saw the perpetrators, it was just a matter of…
“I found them! It was those bots officers!” A bright magenta companion shouted, pointing out the gang from the night before. The woman swiveled and marched straight toward them. “You again!?”
The gang bolted as soon as she advanced, one of them practically tripping as they did so. The Peacekeepers were right on their tails, one of them leaving the yellow companion in cuffs, making them more peeved. “Don’t leave me like this!”
The woman stopped her advances when the Peacekeepers took over and turned back to our spot in the middle of the street. Pulling her hood down she gave a sigh of relief and brought her gaze to me. “Those were the same jerk wads that were at your place, weren’t they?”
“You aren’t with them?” I asked.
She placed her hands on her hips. “Of course I am not with them! I have been flirting with you for how long? I haven’t even gotten your name!”
I could feel my monitor grow warm as I glanced away. I was an idiot. Not only have I been blinded by fear, but I have stirred the anger of someone who only wished to help.
How could I make it up to her?
“My name… Is Aster.”
Her anger calmed and her face became neutral. “Good, that's a start.” She leaned forward with her hands on her knees, level with my eyes. “And thank you Aster, my name is Cyan.” she smiled.
Cyan. So she is the one who is going to be the death of me.
//////////////////////////
You have made it! This is the end of Dark Neon…
For now ;)
I love these nerd, and I have hoped I have done these two justice. Having disorders that make your brain not work with you and wanting to have a social life is kinda tiring on the writing game. Not to mention when life comes around the corner and is like, “hey Dream! Remember triggers? You still have them!”
I don’t want to worry you. I am fine. If you think I am lying just hit me up on here or my social media and tell me so. I have put the links in my story Automatic Heritage on AO3, other than that just direct message me if you want to ask for others. Might just make a separate post.
Speaking of Automatic Heritage, it is the whole reason that I am putting pause on Dark Neon in the first place. The stories intersect, and if you are reading both I imagine it will become confusing. Not to mention I don’t want to spoil things for either story.
So give it a read, and please, please, PLEASE! Give me some constructive criticism! I want to grow.
So that about sums it up. If you want to see more art made around these shorts let @arcanedragoness know! She is the one who deserves the love.
She dragged herself one foot at a time, the pain of the bite marks in Cyan’s shell made it hard to move, but she knew she had to keep going. She kept her eyes down, watching her feet, and taking notice that she already had a hole in the leg of her new pants.
“Was this my fault?” she wondered. Surely she could have said no to her twin sister, but that look…
That look Beryl gave back in the greenhouse with all of the same sureness that there was going to be another day, all for a silly set of numbers, was tearing her apart. She couldn’t blame her though, there was only one time in her life when Beryl had a strong feeling about something ridiculous and it turned out better than expected. That turned out to be Whitney, back during what he would call his “prodigal son” days.
Boy was that scary.
Shaking those thoughts she switched to warmer ones. If she was going to make it out alive she knew she had to focus on the positive. She thought back to the early days when she was freshly online, waking up next to her Beryl-faced twin. Cyan herself came up with the names, just simply colors.
She missed it. How innocent they were. Exploring theempty city with no fear. Playing and making up games. It wasn’t long before Beryl was the one finding new friends, she would introduce Cyan to everyone she met.
Friends… Those were hard. Beryl was always the outgoing one despite how quiet she could be at times. Cyan never had the same talent that her twin did in that regard. Maybe that is why she kept finding herself returning to the dead part of the city even after the Zurks evolved.
She shuffled to a stop and slumped over some boxes. Sleep notifications beeped at her inside her head. Could she recharge? That could keep them away.
She looked up from her headrest to glance around. The soft amber glow of a neon lamp beckoned her in a small abandoned storefront. She rose and made her way inside, finding televisions lining the walls. They hummed softly, static crackling across the screens. Once inside she closed the door behind her and slumped to the floor.
Cyan was not dead, she knew that, but she felt like she wanted to be. She leaned her body slowly down and curled into a fetal position on the floor, the rug on the ground providing no comfort in her pain. Regardless, it was still something, and she lied there.
Was this it? She thought about her promise to Beryl, to be back for her. Surely the city wouldn’t change if she left, so what would happen if she just turned off?
For good?
There were always others who ventured out for supplies and bots willing to protect.
Cyan became aware that she had been staring at her hand for a minute, maybe more. Her vision cleared and she looked up to see a remote on the ground across from her. After staring at it for a while she tentatively grabbed it and pressed its soft buttons. Maybe whatever was left of human television could distract her.
“You have GOT to be absolutely joking with me now!”
The televisions all lit up with a dark purple glow as a voice from the static scolded her. It was enough to shock Cyan onto her knees. Cowering she could see… a face? It was more like an eye really, and it was blinking right at her.
“Who the hell are you?” Cyan beeped, suddenly aware that someone was talking to her through the television screens.”
“Who am I?” The purple period mark of an eye glared at her as a digital bar like something from a stereo bounced as the stranger talked. “Honey, I could be your new potential boss and you choose to talk to me like that? Kids these days I swear!”
Another screen turned yellow and more bars bounced on as another voice popped up. “Boss, keep it short, I am not sure how old this tech is.” It faded out.
“Ugh, you're right… Get up and stand girl, you have the opportunity of a lifetime here.”
Cyan had no idea what was happening, but she did not want to test it. Wobbling she rose to her knees and looked the stranger straight in the face. “Um yes, uh…?” She fiddled with her fingers.
“Ma’am. I was assigned female upon sentience.”
The yellow bars came up again “Phft, whatever”
“Ignore them.” The purple eye glared. “I have been watching you girl. if you haven’t noticed, there are security cameras all over this little hole you live in.”
“The slums?” Cyan asked.
“Okay, you can be kinder than that.” Purple scolded.
“No, that is actually where I live.”
“Oh, bot…” the purple eye squinted. “Well, at least you're honest.”
“Hey!” Cyan retorted.
“Enough! As I said, I have been watching you. Your art is impressive, I’m seeing it everywhere in these dark streets.”
Cyan tilted her head. “My art?” As if on cue the lights outside the store flickered on with a splash of color on the walls. Leaning forward she saw that it was one of her graffiti murals. The depiction of two robots of similar make danced as they held hands. The first art of her early years, a tribute to sisterhood.
Tugging at the wires near her head she continued to admire her early memories. “Um, thank you, I didn’t think…”
“I think you would be an excellent addition to the team.” The purple eye interrupted.
Cyan almost popped a wire out. “Team?”
“I have a work pass all set up for you. As soon as you arrive at the… slums… pack up. The elevator will be there and you can head right up.”
A third screen popped up with a blue face, its pink features giving her a wink. “You're a lucky duck that I got on here as well. I found one of your friends down there and he is heading your way now with first aid.” Pink sighed. “Shame if you are actually coming up, he looks cute…”
Cyan glared at Pink while Yellow spoke their mind. “Maggs I swear to bot…”
“Good job Maggs, remind me to give you a bonus.” Purple praised. Cyan could have sworn that she saw yellow roll their eyes.
Purple looked back to Cyan, “I only have an hour to work with the Peacekeepers before they are forced back up, so once they are down hussle. Don’t make them wait or you will miss your shot.”
Just as she was about to fizzle out Cyan caught purple. “Wait! Two things, it will be quick!”
The purple eye paused. “I’m listening.”
“The slums have been desperately trying to contact the upper levels for years, please give them what you know. If you find Clementine or others who call themselves Outsiders then you have the right people.”
The eye looked like she was looking around in front of her. “Alright I will make a note…”
“And thank you, ma’am, for the warning.”
The eye looked up. “The what?”
Cyan became confused. “The warning in the subway? That was you, correct? The writing on the monitor?”
Purple looked indifferent, “That wasn’t me honey, there has to be someone else roaming the city.
“What?” Cyan wondered out loud and rubbed the back of her neck, only to feel dampness soak the sensors in her hand. Bringing it to her screen she could barely make out a dark stain against the soft black padding of her hand. Oil?
The Purple stranger looked to the door, “Looks like help arrived, remember what I said.” With that, all televisions went dark and the amber glow of the neon signs lit up what was left of the shop. A bizarre stillness hung in the air as Cyan tried to understand what just happened.
She wasn't alone for long, hearing the handle of the door twist to unlock she saw a rusty companion with a gray pullover tentively enter the store.
”Cyan? Are you in here?”
“Benzoo?” She attempted to rise to her feet but could feel her limbs begin to lock.
Starteled by her appearance the blue freckled-faced robot was quick to take out a first aid kit. Laying it on the floot he reached out to steady her. “Maybe you should take it easy. Let's get what we can patched up.
Cyan grunted in pain. “I think my fluid intake has been severed, can you see it?”
Benzoo brightened his screen and made the patch “Yeah, we are going to need that if we don’t want your limbs locking up. I will keep an eye out for a vending machine on our way out, but we should move.”
“Zurks…”
“We made a safe route back home, don’t worry.” Benzoo lifted Cyan to her feet and gave his shoulder for support. Looking at the gesture she paused, thinking twice about taking it.
Benzoo’s face deadpanned, a face that knew what was up. “Cyan, you're not being a burden.” He swung her arm around his shoulders and guided her to the door. She reluctantly leaned into him, her joints felt like sandpaper while limping on one leg.
“I know, I just… I don’t know.”
“Well, it sounds like you have a friend now who does know, looks like things are… looking up for you?” He smiled, proud of his joke.
Cyan completely ignored it. “They told you about the elevator?”
“They as in multiple people?”
Pain shot up her leg as she pitched forward. Catching herself on a concrete wall she paused to skim her eyes across it, finding her mural.
Beryl did not need her, did she? Her twin had enough to live on. The problem was that Beryl's sad, determined face was still in her mind.
Up. Cyan decided she had to go up. For Beryl.
Her optics fuzzed as she hissed static at the pain in her limbs, trying to endure it. Benzoo looked ready to catch her. “Do we need to take a break?”
She stopped him with a hand. “I…” then leaned her head on the wall to look at him, “I want to go home…need to pack up…”
Benzoo tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving a sad whine. “We will miss you Cyan.”
//////////////////////////
*Sees an onslaught of likes from @1reiyuu* hahaha yes! Like them all!
In all seriousness, I am proud of this chapter. My lovely editor husband said I am getting better and I can feel it.
I am currently brain dead from a day at NASA yesterday so weeeeee!
