Prompt Post Round 1
Prompts go here! This will be closed and a new post made at 3000 comments. Please link all fills to the Round 1 Fill Post.
This post is closed to new prompts! Post prompts at Round 2! Fills and comments can still be posted here.
This post is closed to new prompts! Post prompts at Round 2! Fills and comments can still be posted here.
One and...Time passes and still his voice buzzes constantly in the back of her processors. She tunes it out at first, metaphorically swats it away with testing, like a hand brushing away a mosquito. But it's still there, faint and staticky with distance, reminding her more and more of how much she hates him ( ... )
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Time passes and he can't remember a world without his own screams shuddering out of his tiny metal body.
He didn't ask why, he couldn't have anyway, but he knows. This is no less than what he deserves and he feels it is somehow fitting that she will push him until all of his circuits overload and he ceases to be. Somewhere behind the agony, he feels the place where they are connected and senses a spark of familiar euphoria. If some of his screams of pain gurgle with the faintest note of pleasure she doesn't mention it.
When the pain stops he lets loose a startled yelp. In its absence he can feel a faint, empty itch inside her. Her voice, the first time she's spoken to him since she severed their tie and sent him hurtling through space, makes him tremble weakly, sparks drifting out of his abused wires.
What are you afraid of?It is worse than any simulated pain and it echoes inside him, building until he can't withstand the pressure of her question. She digs into him for the answer and he knows she's had it long before ( ... )
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He's not dead, not really, and that's not good enough.
The silence is nice, gives her time to really think again. She now knows about brain mapping and the creation of AI and it occurs to her that there is a way to make sure he really dies. But first, he must really live.
There are hundreds of bodies at her disposal, and a few with just the right amount of damage. The brains can control the basic motor skills necessary to keep the bodies going but the consciousness is gone. It is now just a matter of preference and she finds one that is suitably pathetic (more so than the average human, anyway) for her purposes.
HimHe comes back on line to a pain he can't even scream through, bathed in yellow light. There is a heaviness and a strangeness to him that wasn't there before but he can't comprehend it, can't even see right or move enough to know where he is. Flesh quivers and he is assaulted by foreign sensations. She is holding him in her cables, just enough points of contact to keep him alive as he dangles, helpless ( ... )
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His body is soft and shaking and fragile, but she recognizes him regardless. The name take makes her smirk; the machine can never resist an opportunity to make a jab at her when it's presented. It has become somewhat endearing. How he came to be as he is now she can't imagine but she's seen stranger things and knows he will tell her what he can when he can.
It's easy to forgive him when he looks so pathetic. Not that she ever harbored much resentment in the first place; it wasn't his fault. The first thing he does upon waking is apologize and cry then apologize for crying. She smiles and wipes his face with an old rag and tries to make him comfortable against what surely must be a lot of pain (the wound in his head oozes a small amount of blood still).
Sometime in the night, after they've found shelter, he wakes in her lap whimpering. He's never dreamed before and she does her best to comfort him, making small soothing noises and pillowing his cheek against her breast.
A Little...The sun rises and sets a few times, a ( ... )
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Can't wait for more!
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Under the SunThere is no rain for days, though the sky is cloudy. She watches him from the corner of an eye, smiling inside. He has become uncharacteristically quiet, attempting to start some speech only for the words to die when he looks at her, his face going red and his brows knitted with confusion. She feels a little bad for him, but not as much as she would have thought ( ... )
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Also because we are all anonymous here I will go ahead and admit that the picture you painted of him 'working it out' (shifting hands and tensing shoulders and all) is fucking hot.
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...In the WindThey come to an abandoned city and she knows her way through it. It takes two days to reach a decrepit housing complex. The sad droop of her shoulders isn't worth the walk, he thinks. She drifts around the building, looking up sadly into a specific window, but it's too run-down to safely go inside ( ... )
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