Rain beats down on the flooding pavements of what used to be San Francisco, once a landscape of hills, a nostalgic sense of old city scapes, now a blue and white glowing city. A beacon of hope amid the darkness surrounding it. Cities didn't always have artificial rain. But nothing was real anymore. Weather was always controlled based on the polls of citizens on their holographic touch pads provided by the sparkling and sleek Mechangels. One could guess they were tired of the sunshine. It was easy to do so, what with the atmosphere modified by specialized robots. Global warming was a thing of the past. Was that really such a good thing? Water rushed down the mass hills of the city, the streets deserted with the exception of a few people leisurely strolling through it, completely dry thanks to the Mechangels who shielded them with their bodies. The rain was already getting into their slightly exposed gears, wearing away at waterproof materials. It was like it was trying to force them to rust, but they wouldn't. Mechangels were more powerful than a little rain. Near an alleyway, a small mouse washed its furry cheeks in the puddles near its home. As one of the large mechanical angels came by however, it scurried. As the mouse passed a garbage can on the side of an alleyway, already nearly full of water that washed the debris into the rest of the street--which would later then be picked up by the vigilant trash-bots--it did not care to notice the body of a young woman stuffed into it. As synthetic as the rain itself. Her dead eyes were turned to the sky, her mouth hanging open in awe, or perhaps horror, at the things place before her. The rain fell harder, giving the illusion of tears going down her cheeks. Her green hair was soaked to the core, already beginning to rust. Everyone knew Cyborgels were not stronger than a little rain. Her lips trembled. Her eyes began to show life. The Cyborgels body thrashed in malfunction, taking the trash bin down and her along with it. The water that had been collecting in the bin poured all over her naked back and caused her to stumble. She couldn't feel the ground below her scrape against her palms. She would never feel them scrape against her palms. Her small body scrambled for cover on the opposite side of the alley, which had shelter from the rain beneath an exposed overhang. She clung to the wall, gasping. She had never needed the air before as badly she did now. Her pale forehead pressed against the grimy wall before her. Naked. Alone. Unsensory. She began to wail, the misery of her existence returning to her as it did to others of her same kind all around New Society. The rain drowned the sound of misery. The rain drowned the sound of ignorance. But for once, the rain didn't drown out reality.

DESIUM CORP WORKING FOR YOU TO BUILD A BETT- That was all Ethan could make out from the holo panel as he rushed down the street on his hoverbike. He shifted in his dirty green overalls. The Desium Corp. logo stitched onto the overall over his chest was itchy. The lettering “Services Division” was made of some old material that felt uncomfortable on bare skin. His short blonde hair fluttered with the wind and droplets of grime and motor oil flew off it onto the ground behind him. Two small earpieces blasted his favorite millenial rock song, drowning out the sound of everything else. The engine of his hoverbike hummed. Blue light glowed from its magnetic levitators and left a pale hue against the black road. A metal box hovered behind it, magnetically tied to the bike and full of rusted parts, broken pieces, and general scrap metal. “Great, I wonder what smart-ass admin decided it would be a good idea to have it rain today,” Ethan thought. He sniffed his nose at the caustic smell of asphalt. “Well time to sift for more junk. If only my lousy boss would requisition the right parts. And at the right time. Then I wouldn’t have to spend all morning doing this so I can get everything repaired on time. And maybe released on time. Honestly, I don’t get why I’m going out for this. I should have reclassed years ago,” he thought. He let out a sigh as he passed building after building. The LED logos and the holographic panels on them blurred into a lightshow as he sped down the road. He looked around. The streets were empty save a few citizens ahead. They walked down cheerfully, protected by the rain above by their savy new Mechangels. They floated along moving in a mechanical nature. They and their citizens paid no attention to Ethan as he drove by. His brows furrowed and his mouth contorted in jealousy at the citizens. He took another glance at the new robotic servants. “Creepy Mechs, honestly I don’t know why everyone thinks they are so good,” he wondered. He pressed on the brakes right in front of a dark alleyway. He opened up his holopad and marked the spot off. “Alright, this outta be the last place I check before I head back. Let’s see what we can scrape up,” he thought. He took off his earplugs and turned the music off. Whistling, he thumbed a few buttons on his holopad. It began to glow white, lighting up the pathway in front of him. He looked into the alleyway. He immediately identified a pile of garbage bags rested against the wall on the right. An empty trashbin lay on its side in the middle of the pathway. “Perfect! Looks like the trash-bots haven’t come in yet,” he thought turning the light towards the garbage bags. He grimaced at the sudden overpowering stench. "Maybe they don't come often enough," he added. Everything else in the alleyway remained dark as the light illuminated the black bags. “Hope I get lucky. All I ask is a carbonite 2x2 chip or some Silicate wiring. I could definitely use another lumine panel, or mayb…,” his thoughts wandered as he stepped forward.

Being sneaky was not her specialty. She slid into alley way after alley way, looking for some form of abandoned building so that she could rest for a brief spell, but no such think was able to be seen for miles. She tried to stay under overhangs so that the rain would not get into her metal parts, but it was very difficult. Sometimes there was never an overhang to be under. When she found one of those, she risked using her metal legs to sprint rapidly to the next one, but as soon as she stopped, she would jolt with a malfunction. She peered out into the streets and saw the very few humans walking with metal robots of some sort. She didn't recognize them, but thanks to a young group of children playing nearby with them, she learned that they were called "Mechangels". She looked at them and, for some reason, they did not read as "angel" to her. She managed to get further out of town and that's where she began to find abandoned buildings. She found one that seemed to have running water and she hurried directly into that one. Running upstairs to one of the empty rooms, she quickly stripped off her ragged, torn clothing and scrubbed at her still flesh bits, which was not much. It consisted of her hair, her face, her chest, abdomen, and her left arm. She even had to be careful with her hair because of her attachment in the back that kept on flipping out in front of her right eye with each malfunction. Once she finished cleaning herself up, she felt only slightly better. She then washed her clothing, tearing off any stringy bits on her top, but leaving the ripped up jeans as they were. She did not want anyone to see her legs. Now, she had a long sleeved crop top with ripped up jeans that shown a little metal through them. Great, she wasn't going to stand out in a crowd. She rummaged through the abandoned building, looking for a pair of gloves to put over her hands so that her metal hand wouldn't show. She didn't find any, but she did find an old pair of boots to cover up her metal feet and a jacket with pockets and hood. That would have to work for now. She quickly slid into the boots and pulled on her new jacket. She flipped up the hood of her jacket and shoved both her hands into the pockets, nearly ripping the pockets with the force. She cringed with another malfunction and realized that she would have to wait out the rain before she could go anywhere. She sat down on the bed and waited, staring out the gloomy window into this New Society.

Kirk sat within his stylised hover car parked just outside the first of his gun stores appropriately labelled 'Gun-ho!'. The car was made to look as if it was a Ford Torino, it just wasn't. Without the wheels it felt like driving any old hover car, but alas, wheels were a thing of the past and if Kirk had to catch up with the future he'd do it in style. The sounds of Dr. Feelgood played lightly in the background as smoke slowly filled the air and was sucked out through a small port that led to the exhaust at the back of the car. Hover cars did have their advantages, Kirk would admit that. He took the cigarette from his mouth as he squinted at his holopad. His vision was getting worse, if he was 20 years younger he would have probably called himself 'Grandpa' at the time as some sort of unfunny insult. If Kirk ever wrote memoirs they would be filled with cringe-worthy paragraphs about him trying to be cool or trying to make one liners before or after killing someone. He sighed, closing the holopad and in turn the article on it about quales or some other now extinct animal. He twisted the key in the ignition and set the car into drive. He drove slowly through the night, the rain sliding down his windshield only for it to be tossed away by the wipers. He loved the rain, he got to see arseholes get soaked while he laughed at them from the comfort of his car. He parked his car just outside some restaurant. He had to kill time before going home, the old woman who stayed in the flat next to him would want to have a chat and invite him in for tea and as much as Kirk didn't want to go in, he didn't have the heart to tell her "no". He left his car and stood underneath the overarching roof of the restaurant just next to the alley. The cigarette was only halfway done. He liked to stand in the rain every now and then, even if it was artificial.

Voices—she was surrounded by them. Some felt familiar, others foreign, and though each one spoke softly, there were so many that their words bounced off the walls of her head as indistinct echoes. Time she’d lost track of long ago, and in the darkness of pseudo-hibernation, all she could do was imagine what each voice was doing far outside her line of vision. At times like this, she imagined she was being repaired, as every now and again, one of her limbs would be prodded or lifted up. She’d wake up on the table in a lab, restrained until a Crystex Core was inserted into her implant and her new objective was declared. This time, however, something was different. It was an indistinct something, a new flavor to the air. As she focused on it, her lethargic brain began to process the sensation and, strangely enough, labeled it as intense discomfort. Well, that wasn’t new. Nemesis prepared to nestle back into the comfort of unconsciousness until another thought sparked on its own. If she was safely restrained in a lab, why was she in an uncomfortable position? Why was it so cold? Nemesis’ eyes shot open, blank, yet full of unstinting purpose. Though her vision was little more than a blur at first, she eventually came to see that she was in an outside area—namely, a junk heap. Her barely moveable lips cracked into a smirk, and in one smooth motion, she tore the shell of a drone off her torso. That thing had been restricting her ability to breathe for some time; it was evident from the greyish spots on her torso that would soon become bruises. On some level, she understood what’d happened in her lapse of consciousness. The scientists responsible for her care had made no secret of her increasingly difficult upkeep and the inevitability that she would malfunction beyond repair. Rather than feeling outcast and useless, however, she felt a strange rush of pleasure. The junkyard riddled with her foes of the past was impressive. Here lay her opponents, creation after creation that had not been able to match her. These were her trophies, the sum of her existence, and if her fate truly was to be tossed aside, her value had at least been greater than those doleful creations—for a time. Like the mortal beings surrounding her, her prime had reached its brink and was fated to retreat until she was nothing but bones and ash. Her lack of commands was, in truth, a very clear command she’d dreaded ever since her first failure to deconstruct a drone: her only task now was to die. It wasn’t resentment she felt, but confusion. If she was functional enough to move, to think, to act, why was she resting among the inert remains and other junk from her commanders? Surely, if she was active, there was a purpose beyond submitting herself to the abyss. Rain drizzled down, and the torn remains of her suit flapped idly against skin and metal as she sat in her heap of victory and contemplated her next move. To attempt to return to the lab would be futile, and even if she wished it, a mere glance at her surroundings was enough to tell such a thing was impossible. She was in unfamiliar, yet familiar territory: she recognized the drones and machinery from the base she’d lived in, but all of the garbage had been dumped off-location. What choice did she have but to move? Nemesis paid no mind to the racket she made as she dug her legs out from the slimy, broken machinery. It took a bit of time, given that she had only one mechanical arm attached, but then the real feat began. Just rolling down the grimy heap would result in cuts and bruises, and she knew her constitution was already at its limits. She had to carefully wade her way down, letting her legs sink with every step. It was a macabre little symphony as metal bits clinked, scraped, and popped, oozing out pockets of oil and mud. The next obstacle she faced was much less intimidating: it was nothing more than a wire-linked fence. Beyond it, there was a barren space of land before a smattering of buildings. Past those black shapes was a brighter, taller skyline completely alien to her. Even so, that was sign enough of civilization: there she would find purpose again. Nemesis slipped her foot into one of the links, then her hand. With her foot on the bottom and fingers on the top, she began to pull it open, effectively ripping the fence apart. When she had a hole large enough to fit through, she edged out of the junkyard. She still received a myriad of shallow scratches from the jagged edges of the broken links as she passed, but that was nothing to her frozen skin. All she could do was limp forward now, either to find her salvation or find her end.

The sun shone with the brightest of lights and the warmth filled the air as Lexie laid relaxed in her chair with her eyes closed. She could feel a warm breeze brushing over her body with her hair gently swaying back and forth, but all that emotion, that sense of serenity, was reduced to nothing when the sound of a thunder cracking off in the distance could be heard. Slowly she opened her eyes and found herself staring at a ceiling light with enough brightness to leave shadow spots in her eyes when she blinked. The humming sound of a warm air-conditioning unit could be heard close by and as she propped herself back up in her chair the air swept past her for about the ten thousand time that day. She must have dozed off, no, she 'had' dozed off because when she looked at the clock she could see that 15 minutes had passed by and next to the clock was a half finished coffee that was loosing it's ability to let off steam. "What was I up to?" She thought as she surveyed the desk to see what paperwork was left behind. The foyer Lexie worked in was up on one of the higher levels of the Desium Corp building. Before her desk laid about 500+ square meters of near emptiness. The only things beside her desk that filled the room was a few potted plants, two lounges, a coffee table and a rug to accompany them. Behind her was a set of double doors that lead to her manager's office, before her were two elevator doors, and over to the side was a conference room which was currently being occupied by a few select individuals discussing the progress of the Mechangles roll-out as well as future plans for their weapon's distribution. All in all it made the day fairly dull and considering this was her 6th day on a row at work, Lexie was kind of over the week. At that moment the doors creaked open and several higher ups began to flow through towards the elevator. They were chuckling and applauding themselves for the brilliant work that they had done, even if all it happened to be was a signature on a document. One of the men dispatched from the group and walked over towards Lexie with a file in his hand and handed it towards her. She put out her hand and took it off him reading the headline. "Sales and Growth - 2st Quarter" "Sir, did you want me to input your notes into your latest file report?" she inquired. "That would be wonderful. We've come across a few anomalies again. Seems like we're having the same problems with the Revolution as what we did last year." Her manager spoke as he rested his hand against the table to prop himself up. He was a tall person. Fairly thin and of a middle age, but still young appearance. "How did you want to handle it?" Lexie leaned back in her chair with a sense of curiosity, secretly hoping for something to do. "Nothing at the moment. We have too much else going on with the roll-out and we've decided that we'll deal with the few... miss-deliveries... when the time comes." Pushing himself off the table he began to walk towards his office before calling back, "Oh, and once you finish. Go home and have a day off." "As you wish Mr Kagome." She spoke as she was left to her silent room to finish off the day.

A lone man in a yellow suit trudged through the streets of an American city. He stood out though for he did not have something over his head. No, he used the classic raincoat to protect himself from the artificial precipitation. Not that anyone would notice as the streets were mostly devoid of souls but of course he turned heads when the few people whom had mechanical umbrellas passed by. Yuri had heard of the rise of the Mechangels and the obsoletion of the Cyborgels. That the latter were now being thrown away in garbage cans and junk heaps. The revolutionaries were disgusted but they saw a chance, an opportunity. If they could get a hold of the junked Cyborgels and get them repaired then they would be a big help to the revolution. There was opposition to the idea though, that the trashed Cyborgels may be too damaged beyond repair to be of any use and scavenging for them would be a waste of time. However, the majority, including Yuri, said it was worth a shot and now the Russian revolutionary started traveling to the New Society's dumps to find a discarded Cyborgel. So far he only found the remains of robots and the usual trash of the citizens. Yuri was far from giving up though, the world was huge and he knew sooner or later he would find a Cyborgel. However, he should have brought someone along to help him. As Yuri continued, he seemed to hear faint wails. The loud rain hitting the ground made it hard to confirm it so he was a little unsure that maybe he was just hearing things. However, since there was little reason for anyone to be wailing in the 'perfect' New Society as well as not being in a rush, Yuri decided to investigate. The cries seemed to originate from an alleyway so the Russian headed there while wondering who or what could be making them.

@Fairess The sudden, loud groaning of metal being bent right behind you would be enough to make most organic being's stomach drop. Just as your body had pulled through the hole in the fence, a bronze and brown colored gigantic hand snatched you by your backside and pulled you back into the dump you had just escaped from. The fence's small opening scraped against the brown metal hand holding you as it went back through and against your skin, sure to cause at the very least much discomfort. The hand holding you was firm but not crushing. You are risen into the air and turned around to face an unweildly and massive sized robot with several others behind it. It's circular head twitched, looking you over like an erratic eyeball as the rain poured down harder. You can see the robots oil dripping out of the small openings in its metal plating as the rain trickles inside of it as well. It begins walking with you back into the dump, its grimy hand sure to damage whatever clothing you wore. The other robots crowd the one holding you, all of their circular heads moving erratically. @ScarlettWaters16 beep beep beep ee-bep-beep! bee-eeEEEEEEeeep! ..beep...? As the sound of the rain hitting the window and metal roof of the abandoned building you had chosen to take shelter in became part of the background, you would notice a strange sound coming not far from where you lay on the bed. Then something zipped by the doorframe, providing a strange glimpse of what looked like a shop-vac on steroids with a XD displayed on its monitor. Another one chased after it, the face on the monitor different than the last with a D:<. The beeps continued, the pitches in sound only slightly different. What in the hell was going on here? @NuttsnBolts NPC UNLOCKED: Mery The B. "You know," hissed a voice. "You could get fired for sleeping on the job." A tall woman leaned against the desk of the secretary. Her hair was a soft brown and she looked to be of Caucasian skin tone, her outfit a simple purple blouse and black pencil skirt with leggings and black shiny shoes. Her arms were crossed as she seemed to glare down at her coworker. "I wouldn't mind watching you go, either." Her eyes half closed demurely as she grinned smugly. "I wonder what the big boss would thing? hehehe~" @PaulHaynek@Mr_pink@pure493 A whimper came from her throat as she turned to look at the two men now in her alley. One asian man not seeming to notice and smoke a cigarette, and another burrowing through her trash. She couldn't fathom why... but it terrified her. "a-a-a-AWAY!" Her voice glitched. Why did her voice glitch? It sounded like a broken animatronic trying to talk. Her hands were both held out in front of her and to anyone it would be clear she was frightened. It wouldn't take much to guess though considering she was naked in an alleyway covered in trash grime. The rain poured harder. "D-0o0o0o0o00000ooo0oonnnnnn....." Her voice gave way to sounds an old dial up computer would make, replacing her wails with a strange static noise. Her body twitched erratically. She stepped into the rain towards them, her brain scrambling as rain poured down on her body, thought it wouldn't be clear through what crevices it was going through. Surely both the men would see her out in the open as her entire mind went black. Her body however, didn't. With each noise and glitch that sounded off her body moved, her head twitching in a strange macabre display. Emotions ranged with little to no sense with each completed sentence. "Ti-Ti-Ti-Take that for what you will!" Happy. "No-no-no one knows we're here." Ominous. "StOP STOP St0o0o0o0OP" Fear. "I-I-I'm you're guide-I'm your guide" Helpful. Then the light from her eyes died and her body slumped. It remained like that for a moment. "SYSTEM REBOOT." Her lips moved but it was far too monotone. Robotic. "SYSTEM REBOOT. SYSTEM REBOOT. SYSTEM REBOOT. SYSTEM REBOOT. SYSTEM..." It continued, echoing in the alley around her and in the area.

"What the f-!" Ethan yelped as he heard the sudden noise behind him. He dropped a circular gear that he had been examining and jumped back to the wall. He saw two hands reach out from the darkness. "Back-Back!" he yelled and waved the light from his holopad ahead. "A cyborangel!?" he whispered under his breath, as the figure was illuminated. His thoughts rushed furiously as he looked at the pale green figure. It's movements and voice were erratic. A cacophony of sound uttered from its mouth while it swung its hands about. Suddenly, in a last desperate mechanical whir it slumped forward, motionless. He raised a hand and grasped his head. "Man! That scared me for a second. Ha ha... Ha ha...," he said in relief. As the panic rush died down, Ethan walked over the Cyborangel curiously. " A cyborangel! Just lying out on the street like this," he thought. He crouched down and examined its face. It had a pretty girlish face and figure despite the dirt and grime that lined the contours of its pale skin. Its green hair was covered in muck and tangled with bits of trash. The body was slouched forward completely motionless. "It really is a shame they leave a cool-looking cyborangel like you out in a dump like this. Guess some people just don't appreciate a work of art like you. I really don't get why they think those new mechs are so much better. They are just glorified robots, all metal and no bio," he whispered. The comatose figure showed no signs of consciousness except the rhythmic burble of "SYSTEM REBOOT" coming from its mouth. An alarm suddenly sounded from his holopad. "Shoot! I gotta get back to work," he thought looking at the alert. Ethan got up and was about to rush for his holobike. As he stood up however he looked back at the comatose figure of the Cyborangel. It lay there with a sad expression, rainwater sliding down in droplets from its body. He looked back at the alarm on his holopad and then back at the Cyborangel. His eyes narrowed, thoughts racing in his head. "Man, screw it. I probably won't get a chance like this for a while. Boss-guy can wait, I have a perfect record this month. He can't do anything if I'm late just once," he sighed and crouched down next to the pale figure. He put on a set of goggles from his belt and pulled out the latest mechanic multi-tool. "Alright, baby," he said putting on his goggles. "I don't know who threw you away, but they certainly didn't do you justice. Your kind has a soft spot in my heart, so at the very least I'm gonna fix you up. I'm even gonna add my own personal upgrade to ya. Then you should be able to find your way back to your owner, and show how much better you are compared to those creepy mechs." The goggles immediately scanned the Cyborangel and began providing specs in his vision. "Hm...Right... over.... here," he muttered fumbling with his tools. He removed a small compartment above the ear of the Cyborangel with a magneto-screw. It revealed a set of ports. Ethan plugged a cable into one port and connected it to his holopanel. His holopad whirred as it began to do a scan of the internal circuitry. Panels full of data began to pop up. "Well, the physical structure is stable, and there is no damage to internal components," he thought. "Software is all jacked up though, I wonder who programmed this Cyborangel? Haven't seen such lazy coding in a while." His device hummed again. A Panel titled "Install Program?" with the buttons "Yes" and "No" popped up. Ethan tapped yes. "This might be illegal," he whispered at the comatose figure. "But you know what, nobody gives a damn about the laws here anyway. Here goes nothing." An installation progress bar popped up, immediately jumping to 1%. "I've always wanted to test this out. Cyborangels have an organic motherboard, sorta like a brain, that give commands to the rest of its body. For some reason, they all have static dispenser rods attached which do nothing but dampen and jumble signals in it," he thought watching the progress bar go up to 40%. "The program should disable all the static dispensers, which in turn should give a boost in mental faculties. I don't really see a point to having them there. All they do is mess with additional cognitive capabilities. I wonder who built them in the first place, it is almost like they intentionally wanted the Cyborangels dumbed down." As the bar reached 80% a message popped up. Ethan read it. "Huh, that is weird. Looks like whoever programmed this one accidentally attached a dispenser to the motor movement area of the brain instead of the cortex. That would explain why this Cyborangel was thrown away. Also means that additional thought-processes were working but whatever. Can't really be effective here if you can barely walk or move your arm without spazzing out." He clicked a few buttons and the bar resumed going from 80% to 85% and 90%. In a few seconds it reached 100% and a "Installation Complete" panel popped up. "Well! That should do the trick, all I gotta do now is wait for it to reboot" Ethan thought. He then expectantly looked at the Cyborangel's comatose body, waiting for it to return to life.

The place that was once San Francisco, ??? "Leviathan; a sea monster mentioned in the Old Testament. Its power and size left humans in awe and unable to harm it. More importantly, Leviathan is also the name of Thomas Hobbes' masterwork." The disinterested voice of Marquis Kimaris called out into the dark gathering hall, sat with one knee raised at the front of it all, countless faces obscured by darkness before him. This is how he preferred them, quiet and in the dark. Lazily turning a page in the aforementioned book, he continued. "Supposedly it's rather profound, had quite the impact on politics as it is known. Have any of you read it?" He spoke to the quiet mass, their forms unmoving from a sitting-bow. Silence was his answer. "Did not think so..." He sighed. "I've only just started it, and make my judgement on Hobbes' conclusion when I'm done." He snapped the book closed, moving to stand. The trainees would not need him today, and it was not like he had much of a duty towards them in the first place. Kimaris' aided the New Society simply because it was a more quiet change from the chaos of the netherworld, so thought his 'allies' within the New Society's inner circle. If this were true, his aid was mood based if anything, and his behaviour only illustrated this point. While the trainees who went through his training more often than not turned out to be useful human pawns, he at times did choose his other hobbies over teaching humans how to fight. He walked through the silent crowd of uniformed and masked trainees towards the halls exit. The place that was once San Francisco, City Streets Rain pattered down outside the tucked away building in the industrial sector, unnoticed by passers by. Kimaris let out a huff, his breath visible in the cold air. Adjusting his winter coat, he prepared to set out into the wet weather. "Will you be requiring transport, sir?" Kimaris' attendant asked off to his side, a formal yet meek person he found. She was ever concerned with formalities and appointments, where Kimaris was the opposite. Frustrating, from his perspective, but he saw the use of having a moving diary. "No, no. I feel like a walk. Go back to central office. Give me a call if I need to be somewhere." He said dismissively, walking ahead before the small woman could say any more to him. Kimaris was a notable player in the initial creation of the New Society, yet he was probably the least known. Walking among humans was an uneventful thing for him, where for some others it might be more prone to drawing attention. Anyone who did remember Kimaris were not likely to say anything either, it's not as if one actively sought someone such as him anyway. He simply had nothing to offer, unlike the more political sorts. Like all things Kimaris' did, he walked among them because he could, feeling the want to simply wander aimlessly for a while.

--An hour earlier-- Padding softly, the fluffy gray-and-white dog walks over to the black lump huddled underneath a window of the abandoned apartment complex. Snuffling quietly, she touches the lump's hand, nudging it with her nose. The lump, now obviously a person, groans and lifts his head, revealing the groggy eyes of a young man. "Hey, Sasha," he mutters, rubbing one eye with a gloved hand. Reaching out, Zac scratches the dog's ear, making her press her head against his palm. Smiling, Zac stands and stretches, only to feel Sasha paw at his shin. Looking down, he chuckles, seeing the look on his companion's face. "I know what you want," he says, reaching into his pocket to pull out a dog biscuit. Sasha's tail wags as she pants, looking expectantly at the treat before Zac tosses it to her, chuckling as she nabs it right out of the air. "Good girl," he says, patting Sasha's head before turning to the side of the window, where what appeared to be a golf bag was sitting. Slinging it over his shoulder, he whistles, a single, brief note, and walks away, his loyal dog close at his heels. Stepping out into the drizzling rain, he pulls his hood up and looks around. Few people were out and about. Those of whom were out were accompanied by their mechangles. Hearing his dog growl, Zac says, "Easy, girl," which instantly makes Sasha quiet. Once again proud of Sasha's obedience, he walks down the street, picking a random direction, his companion close at his heels. --Present-- He didn't know how, but he had somehow made it to the edge of the city, where all of the less-than beautiful parts were clustered, as if to hide it all from the richer residents. Sighing, he sits down on the top of a hill overlooking a scrapyard. Sasha lays next to him, as if oblivious to the rain and wet ground, thanks to her thick fur. Zac chuckles and rubs her back, saying, "I envy you, girl." It was when he looked back toward the scrapyard did Zac notice something going on below, thanks to a glint of light. Looking down, he sees an old robot lift something in front of it. Suspicious, he shrugs his golf bag off, unzips the top, and pulls out something that was obviously not for such a relaxed sport. Kneeling on one knee, his elbow propped on his other knee, Zac looks down the scope of his rifle. If he were anyone else, the sight of a cyborgel wouldn't have bothered him and he would have walked away. However, he isn't anyone else. After pulling the bolt of his rifle back and bringing a round into the chamber, he pulls his goggles over his eyes, a display with wind direction, distance, and other variables appearing over his vision automatically, and says, "Sasha, guard." The dog immediately understands and goes on alert, her sharp eyes scanning the area around them, ears perked for any sound. Placing unwavering trust in his loyal friend, Zac watches as the Cyborgel manages to free herself. Then, surprising him until he realizes exactly what kind of robots they are, the garbage men step back, looking over their shoulders at the woman. Lowering his rifle, he contemplates for a moment before slipping his rifle into his bag. Zipping it, he says, "Relax, Sasha." Rising to his feet, he slides down the hill and jogs over to the fence, his dog right at his heels. Once there, he calls to the Cyborgel, "Hey! Is everything alright?" Note: Coordinated with Fairess after much confusion. Worth it, though! :D

It wasn’t physical pain that startled Nemesis, rather, the unwanted act of being accosted. Her skin was so numb she barely felt the deeper scratches on her biceps and shoulders—she did feel a bit slimier as blood oozed over the scraps of her suit, but lubrication was more the advantage in her present situation. As if by instinct, she concentrated on controlling her reaction to the frozen metal being pressed against her body. She shuddered, twitched, but did not cry out. Screaming would be facilitation of her greatest enemies, pain and fear. No, instead, she let her rage take control. It did not come in an animalistic frenzy or red haze: it was a nearly emotionless state on the surface. Underneath that cool veneer, her brain was operating in an accelerated state of spiteful clarity. She saw the thickness of the robot’s metal plates covering its frame and knew immediately that even with a still functional arm, tearing through that outer defense was impossible. This robot was a thing not built for speed or even strength, but durability. Was such a low-maintenance creation truly her final opponent? Very well. Nemesis reached her arms over the lip of the robot’s hand, trying to position herself for an effective strike. I will not submit. I will fight until the conflict takes me—to die resting the laurels of my past was not a suitable end. Yet, even as she thought of an end, she strove for a future. Her single mechanical arm dug into the exposed chink in the robot’s wrist. Even in her broken, worthless state, the act was too easy: joints were almost always the weak spots of any robot, since those parts also required the most flexibility. Sparks flew as Nemesis’ fingers pried into the metal covering protecting the wires and tore the cords apart. Immediately, the grip holding her went limp, and she started to slide. She maintained a hold of the wires, hanging for a moment. It was only natural for the robot to counter-strike, but it didn’t so much as reach for her with its other hand. Even the surrounding robots simply stood there, their little heads jerking around so much it looked like they were malfunctioning. It wasn’t time to gawk. Nemesis let go of the wires, spreading her legs wide as she landed. It honestly wasn’t much of a gap between the thing’s dismantled hand and the ground, but it was a natural stance suited for dodging quickly. With a missing arm and a damaged left leg, she didn’t actually have means of moving gracefully enough to be combative, but her fighting instinct had been painfully refined. Even if she could barely move, she would not give the appearance of such until it was impossible even to keep up the pretense. Running was not an option, so she maintained her posture, eyes swiveling around as she tried to gauge the strange group’s next movement. Would they try to crush her with their sheer mass? They didn’t look particularly fast, but there were enough surrounding her that avoiding being trampled would be… difficult. Would one of them try to grab her, too, or did they have the AI capable of changing tactics? Would they— They just backed off. The ground shuddered as the robots heaved their shoulders and turned away, their oily, dumpster-like torsos hunched as if disappointed. Nemesis blinked, having no understanding of how turning their backs would help their struggle against her. After they took a few steps away, however, they turned back around, glancing behind their shoulders in a way that could only be described as endearing. Nemesis’ stance faltered. Were the things malfunctioning? What was the point in grabbing her for capture if they would walk away the second one of them received damage? They had every advantage to destroy her, yet there they were, standing in the rain and looking back at her like… like… Like they want me. Nemesis pressed her metal hand against the side of her head, feeling an oncoming headache. That word, want, was a term she was familiar with, but had never used in relation to herself. She did not want anything, nor did anyone want anything from her. Her existence had only one purpose, and fulfilling that purpose justified her existence. But that just made for another internal fallacy: if her purpose was to test drones and equipment for the robotics lab and she was no longer there, why did she still exist? Had the abyss finally decided to claim her and she simply didn’t realize it? A strange sense of dread settled into the pit of her stomach. She’d chosen to step out of a potential grave, the one her commanders had dug for her. By trying to return to some semblance of them, she’d disobeyed orders but simply hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. She’d wanted to be needed. Yes, that was the origin of her ongoing confusion, why she was deviating from the singular mindset of destroying every mechanical object in sight. Nemesis let her metal hand fall to her side as she gazed back at the garbage men. “I want to exis—” “Hey! Is everything alright?” That voice—it was definitely human. Nemesis turned her body, one shoulder facing the robots and the other facing the stranger because she couldn’t risk having her back turned to either. Once again, she was faced with a bizarre situation, this one being a human in her presence while she was not restrained. She took orders from them, yes, watched them work on her body, but there had always been an understanding that she was something never to approach without caution. The pile of ruined drone corpses behind her was likely the reason why. Is everything alright… Nemesis’ brow furrowed as she contemplated the strange question. What was right, exactly? She did not know what her current objective was and thus, could not say whether or not she was performing her work correctly. While the man awaited her answer and the robots (their heads were jerking with those strange motions again) watched, Nemesis simply stood there and ruminated on the nature of the question. She was injured—perhaps that was the nature of his inquiry? Had one of the scientists finally come to repair her? Had that encounter with the robots been a test? Nemesis looked down at herself, finding that her suit was little more than shreds clinging to her chest and the tops of her arms and legs. Crosswise cuts streaked across her arms, legs, and sides, and riddled in all that was the oil from the robots as well as the scum of the junkyard. Her hair, more like a matted sponge oozing gunk, was riddled in blood, but she could feel no head injury. Was this state acceptable? That was a stupid question—that was for the commanders to decide. Nemesis finally turned her back to the robots, deciding the human was her priority for attention. It was dark, so she still couldn’t tell much of the man. He did have something abnormal on his head, but otherwise looked like nothing more than the fleshy, limber humans she was accustomed to seeing. Her answer, after a complete analysis of the situation, the question, and the asker, was hardly an answer at all: “Please restate the nature of the inquiry.” OoC: I coordinated with Daxam for the post, so thanks for your patience, Daxam!

Yuri finally reached the alleyway where the cries came from. He could see a hoverbike parked behind a bright restaurant that was adjacent to the alley. The alleyway itself was dark enough to obscure vision but the Russian saw lights coming from inside the dark area. Yuri wondered if someone was in trouble and pulled out a pistol just in case. The weapon was old school, likely only good for killing civilians that did not have Mechangels protecting them. Peering from the corner, Yuri tried to assess the situation. Thanks to the light emitted, the Russian could see a person operating on a... discarded Cyborgel? The Russian silently cursed. He was beaten to the punch by a tall male with short blonde hair wearing green overalls. The person in question seemed to be a mechanic and from what Yuri could remember, the green overalls were the uniform for Desium Corp. mechanics. The enemy. Yuri thought of taking out this Desium Corp. mechanic and liberate the Cyborgel but the mechanic might be armed. He does have the element of surprise but still, a kill would be risky and may draw unwanted attention. As the revolutionary continued to secretly observe the mechanic, a thought came to him. What was the mechanic doing? He seemed to be fixing the Cyborgel, an obsolete series that should be thrown away never to be touched again. Was he scavenging the Cyborgel for parts? The mechanic did not seem to be taking anything. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for the robot to reboot. With these thoughts, Yuri decided to hold. Waiting for the Desium Corp. mechanic to finish and seeing what would happen next.

"I wouldn't mind watching you go, either. I wonder what the big boss would think? hehehe~" "Mery, you know full well under our workplace agreement that I am entitled to my allocated lunch and tea breaks," Lexie spoke as she shifted around in her chair, moving pieces of paper from one place to another and stapling them together when they seemingly matched. She looked up and saw Mery with a stern look on her face as if to say 'I'm waiting for the comeback', "I just happened to have my break at my desk, if I am allowed to do that?" Lexie picked up the documents that she had together and placed them within a zip travel folder. As she got up from her desk she proceeded to walk towards the elevator, stepping past Mery without even acknowledging her presence. With a gentle touch she pushed the button and waited for the lift to announce it's arrival with a quiet ding and a swooshing sound from the doors. Lexie stepped inside and held her finger on the open-doors button, waiting for her fellow worker to finally get the hint that it was time to leave work for the day. Mery stepped inside and positioned herself on the back wall out of Lexie's eyesight, but visible through the metallic door reflections. "So?" She spoke, cracking the silence like the thunder earlier that day, "What plans have you got for your day off?" A short while later Lexie stepped out of the elevator and towards the front doors, fuming as she left a stunned co-worker there in shock. Mery was gently rubbing her cheek after the slap that she had received, probably for asking an inappropriate question but who knew what was said within the confined, steel concessionary. The tower doors swept open as Lexie walked out into the cold, wet streets. Quickly she rushed across the road, holding her folder above her head to repel some of the falling rain. She swiftly dodged the hover cars until she came to the pavement on the other side and took a step into a puddle. Water splashed up in the air and over a nearby pedestrian. "Damn," she heard him muttered as she looked up to see his pants soaking wet. He looked pissed, like someone just trying to enjoy a walk. He ran his hands through his red hair, showing frustration at what had just happened. @Art of Fun

@Fairess "Well, not the answer I was looking for, but at least she can speak," Zac mutters, being able to see her injured and disheveled state even from where he stood. Hearing the chain-link fence rattle, he looks down to see Sasha squirming through the opening the Cyborgel had made moments before. Once through, she trots over to the Cyborgel and sniffs at her cuts, whining softly. Zac chuckles quietly at the sight before slinging his backpack off of his left shoulder. A moment later, he pulls a handheld set of wire-cutters from the side pocket and gets to work on the fence. A few moments later, he slips through gap he had made from the hole and walks over to the Cyborgel, slipping the wire cutters in his pocket as Sasha meets him a few feet away. Stopping next to his dog, he looks at the Cyborgel and mutters, "Maybe something more technical would work..." Clearing his throat, he then asks, "Give me a, uh...damage report?"

Nemesis’ blue eyes widened as the… thing squeezed itself through the fence, thoroughly disturbed. It was neither robot nor human, but some bizarre, erratic creature, and she did not want it anywhere near her. Sadly, she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. With some difficulty, she stood up from her fighting stance, using her single arm to help straighten her left leg out. In the meantime, the human seemed to be prying his way through the fence, and she felt a strange rush of relief. Was she about to be reclaimed? Whatever hope might have been on her face flattened when the man requested a damage report. For the first time she could ever recall, she entertained the thought of lying. After all, if she was too badly damaged, wouldn’t he just leave her to rot as the scientists had? Or perhaps the nature of his question was more benign—did he merely want to make sure that her ability to sense and process was intact? Nemesis scrutinized what she could make of his face, but the light expression he had wasn’t helping her dilemma at all. She went with honest, beginning with the worst. Though her voice seemed entirely natural, like that of a woman’s, her tone remained monotone enough to imitate a computer. “Internal body temperature is critical. Neuron receivers in left leg attachment, ports z32 and z37 are damaged; mobility severely impaired. Wing ligaments and operational gears damaged; flight capability impossible. Skin damage moderate, blood loss significant: estimated time before critical system failure is less than an hour.” In an afterthought, the pitch in her voice rose uncomfortably. "I require assistance."

@NuttsnBolts@Art of Fun

Mery stepped out of the elevator and watched her coworker leave. She rubbed her cheek still, a vast growl coming up into her throat and her eyes changeing until they were completely black.

"Little whore." Warbled her voice, which had shifted into something less than human. Lexie would pay for this act of disrespect. It was then that Mery decided it was time to show this insolent child who she deals with. Maybe not now, but she would suffer when the time came. She took a glance outside, the pigment fading from her skin as she shuddered with the slight change. Sure as fucking shit she wasn't going to step out into this fucking town. Pathetic, insignificant worms with their oh-so-special Mechangels walked out there and she loathed to be in this skin any longer.

Her ebony eyes narrowed to the reflective surface beside the elevator and she walked toward it. She disappeared through the reflection, taking her business far from the filth of the humans she stared down over.
[NPC SUPERNATURAL ABILITY UNLOCKED: Reflective Teleportation]

Meanwhile, the rain came down harder, causing people to flee inside with their Mechangels as the two demons outside interact. They are now alone.

@Fairess@Daxam

[CHARACTER UNLOCKED: Detective Noire]
[NPC UNLOCKED: Pixiebots]

Another pair of eyes watched from afar.

With a slow drag on his cigarette, Detective Jacobi Noire stayed squatted under the overhang and watched the two people, one clearly a cyborgel and the other a human, interact. Interesting how they appeared to be comfortable with each others presence. All things considered, the boy should be more than scared of her. Afterall, she did rip that poor Garbage Man's hand off. But then, why would that scare a Desium Corp Military sniper? The detective tapped a file on the ground, CONFIDENTIAL stamped in bold, red lettering on the front. He was far away and peering through some debris. For now he would remain unnoticed, and that was fine by him. Seems to him that something was up, and he was going to find out.

His pixiebot chittered in his ear and he looked over, her golden eyes displayed a projective hologram reading "Message from: Chief." He clucked his tongue and sighed as he put out his cigarette. "Mareesa," He began quietly. "Keep an eye on these two. Report back to me what you see."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Chirped the pixie bot. She saluted him in the most perky manner possible and flitted over to the where Jacobi had been looking through. The detective stood and stretched before sticking his hands in his pockets and beginning his way back to the office. "Find me later, willya?" He asked, scratching the back of his head and starting a new cigarette. "We got an awful lot of paperwork on our hands..."

The pixiebot chirped in confirmation, and began to record the interactions of the two below.

@PaulHaynek@pure493
A twinkling sound came from the Cyborgel.

"Reboot complete!" Instead of the robotic voice, out came hers, the one that had been glitching. Her eyes came back to life again, a sparkling seafoam green, and found his. She blinked for a moment and then looked around, the rain now effectively soaked her similarly green hair. A beeping sound came from the back of her neck, causing her to emit another robotic sound.

"Three. Lifeforms. Detected." A confusing detection, as to the man who had just fixed her, he was the only one in the alley. Though there was a mouse nearby... but that didn't explain the third one. She raised her fingers to her pale pink lips, surprised as though the movement had been involuntary. She looked so ... confused. "Where am I... Who are you?" And now scared. She looked at the man who had just fixed her and took a step back, her hands clutched against her chest as she hit the back wall again. "P...Please..." Her voice trembled. "D-Don't hurt me."

"Whoa! That was sudden," he thought as the Cyborangel shrunk back. The cable attached to her and his holopad came loose as she hit the wall.

He looked at her and felt a sense of pity. Her posture, the terrified look on her face, her trembling voice reflected genuine fear.

Ethan's expression turned sad. He was about to lift a hand to comfort her, but stopped and shook his head. The expression of pity quickly turned into sadness.

"Damn! I haven't seen an Cyborangel ever express such vibrantly explicit emotions. Looks like the upgrades work. Her entire reaction was so vivid that she almost made me think she was a real person!" he thought.

A small smirk developed on his face. "Ethan Everux you really outdid yourself with this one," he muttered to himself.

He took a step forward and offered a hand. "This is unreal! For an organic robot I feel like I'm actually talking to a living individual and not some reactive machine. I wonder how well her AI works in reacting to human emotions. Only one way to find out," he thought happily.

"Don't worry! I'm Ethan. What is your name?" he asked.

Zac exhales heavily, rubbing the back of his head. "That's a problem," he mutters, "especially since I have no clue what you said."

Walking over to the Cyborgel, he looks her over, paying special attention to the parts he was familiar with, those being the organic ones. "I've had medical training," he says, "but only enough to stabilize an organic being. So all I can really help you with are your cuts and gashes and whatnot. As for your cybernetics, we'll have to find someone else to handle that, but I think that can wait. I'll see if I can't fashion a crutch for you out of something around here in the meantime. The biggest problem would be your internal temperature."

Slipping his bag off, he opens it and pulls out a small first-aid kit. Holding it by the handle, he nods toward the hill he came from, saying, "If you follow me over there, I can get you stitched and bandaged up, then we can figure out what to do next." He then looks at the stump where one of her arms should be and asks, "You wouldn't happen to know where your arm is, would you?"

Puddle water on his pants. He'd suffered worse, far worse, in the past as well as having moved beyond such a petty squabble. With an non-bothered shrug, he looked up to the culprit of this act. A pretty thing - at least on the immediate surface, Kimaris was old and experienced enough to spot the tell tale signs of a disguise, much like his own current one. Kimaris' squinted, dagger like gaze seeming to see straight through her cover.

"Be more careful." He said, turning his gaze from her to the direction she had come from. Desium Corp. A sudden feeling filled the air, noticeable to Kimaris by pure coincidence. A horrid, familiar feeling which only battle-honed individuals like himself could pick up on. Directed disdain and the intent to harm. Oddly enough it was not aimed at him, but rather the woman before him.

"Suggest you get in doors. And watch your back. I think you have an enemy out there." He offered, turning on his heel and continuing on his walk deeper into the city, hands in his pockets.

The rain felt nice.