Chapter Text
WHOO!
A metallic hand with a lavender triangle embedded in the middle swept away the buildup of dust that had accumulated over some rotten-looking furniture.
(Ah, parlar)
The sunshine spills in from a cavity in the ceiling, the exposed concrete and rebar casting magnificent shadows across the room. It was almost relaxing.
Almost.
Darling, you got to let me know
A tattered backpack was dumped onto the dresser, which had groaned loudly in protest. The bag was child-sized – even being adorned with decorative bat wings.
Should I stay or should I go?
The bag was unzipped. The same hand from before rose up to smooth out a set of bright, purple locks that was nestled underneath a black beanie.
If you say that you are mine
The hand returned to the bag, almost as if it were trying to fish something out. It was stuffed with a variety of supplies, random trinkets and other knick-knacks. The owner of the hand grunted in frustration.
“C’mon, where are you..?”
I’ll be here ‘til the end of time
“Aha! Got it!” A feminine voice cried out, seemingly satisfied with her search. A pair of digital ovals, tinted with a relatively light purple, focused their gaze on the grand prize.
A lava lamp.
Fittingly, it was also purple.
So, you got to let me knoooow
Hydraulics clicked, hissed and whirred as the small drone was speedwalking to another corner of the room, which was far more decorated and personalized compared to the dresser the overflowing backpack was resting on.
Should I stay or should I go?
Uzi Doorman set the lava lamp down and powered off the speaker that was sitting nearby, abruptly ending the song that was playing. She liked that song (though something was nagging at her that it would be better if it were sped and pitched up), but she wasn’t necessarily in the mood right now. She had just returned from her daily excursion out into what remained of the city, and her bag needed to be emptied out before she forgets about it.
Sick as hell lava lamp? Check, Uzi checked off. Displayed on her HUD was a text document off to the side, listing all the little treasures she’s found that day. She’d admit, she didn’t find a LOT, but the things she did find more than made up for it in her mind.
The drone spun on her heel, making her way back to the backpack. She dug out an unopened pack of batteries, a small canister of engine coolant, another one of oil, and a freakin’ SAWBLADE!
Everything that wasn’t designed to poke somebody’s eye out was set to the immediate side of the bag; Uzi could put her sources of sustenance away later. What she cared about more right now was the sawblade. Giddily, she left the room – the top floor of a medium-rise office complex that was absolutely not safe to live in whatsoever – and made her way to her nearby workshop, which was set up in what appeared to be some important businessman’s office.
If he was alive and saw the state of his building, he would probably be pissed. Uzi snickered at the thought.
“Alright, sawblade. You and me? We’re about to wreak some havoc,” Uzi spoke aloud, grabbing one of her previously-halted projects and resting it upon the table. It was an aluminum baseball bat, but there was a jerry-rigged electric contraption strapped to it.
“Everyone’s fine with just shovin’ the blade through, but where’s the fun in that...?” Uzi mused to herself. “Might as well just hammer nails into the bat. Dumbasses can’t even make a motorized spinning axle, even a child could do it...”
Her weapon was practically finished already, only missing the actual blade, so it didn’t take long for Uzi to properly fasten the toothy wheel to the device. Making sure it worked, she gave it a little test spin, propelling the wheel forwards with her free hand. Luckily, it worked – there were no snags, no instability... Uzi was satisfied. She flicked the power switch, and as expected, the blade began to whir.
Honestly, it beat her expectations! Uzi could even see sparks flying as the bat began to gently vibrate in her grip. That would SO mess up anyone who tries to get her!
With a wide, silicone smile, Uzi turned the bat off and applied the rudimentary brakes to further slow the blurry wheel of death down to a crawl. Happy with the results, Uzi made her way back to the other room.
“Freaks aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em! HehehehAHAHA!” Uzi cackled maniacally, seemingly excited at the prospect of ripping her enemies to shreds. For now, though, she rested her new weapon along some sort of rack as she re-entered what she considered to be her bedroom.
The rack was full of Uzi’s favourite weapons that she’s either created herself or found out in the wild. If asked, Uzi would proudly admit that she’s a HUGE weapon nut. Sure, with how things are outside right now, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to indulge in her hobby, but that hasn’t stopped her from stealing, crafting or trading enough weapons to the point she has a miniature armoury somewhere on the floor below her.
Uzi would be damned before she admits it’s a problem, though. Because it isn’t. There’s nothing wrong with what she does, and if anyone says otherwise, they can bite her.
Uzi grabbed some snacks (a few AA batteries from the pack she just opened), a drink (engine coolant) and sat down at the edge of her bed. If anyone were to look at her from the outside, they would assume Uzi is just staring into space, idly munching on batteries and sometimes taking a swig of coolant.
But the small drone was actually hard at work. Displayed on her HUD was a map – one she was forced to make herself because her model of drone wasn’t equipped with GPS satellite functionality. It was a crude, but careful, layout of the surrounding area from a bird’s eye view, made with the built-in JCJPaint application. The charted areas never really sprouted TOO far from the center – that being her office complex, represented by a red square and was aptly named “Uzi’s Metal Death Spire” with a demon skull doodled above - and felt... a little dejected. Maybe she can set some time aside tomorrow for exploring a bit more?
Maybe she’ll be able to find a neighbouring outpost, or something. Not a lot of sentients, whether human OR drone, came into close proximity these days. Uzi wasn’t exactly sure how long it’s been, but it’s felt like a little over a year has passed. Being a walking computer DID sort of help stave off the loneliness, as well as tinkering with machinery in her workshop, but there was only so much she could do realistically before Uzi began to go stir-crazy.
“Ugh, way to ruin the mood, ‘zi,” the emo muttered to herself. It always had to be something, didn’t it?
Uzi looked up, ignoring the rubble, and her optics focused on the blue expanse of sky. The sun had shifted its position a little bit – consulting her internal clock, it was a little after noon – but the glare wasn’t able to deter the drone’s focus on the cloudless sky above her. It looked almost alien, how deep of a blue it was, compared to all of the dulls and drabs of the environment around her. It was as if the concept of colour itself had become a taboo subject, leaving all of the once-lively architecture husks of themselves. But the sky was generous. It couldn’t give everything back, but it was enough, given the circumstances.
Uzi looked around her own room. Decorated as it was, it didn’t help that the entire floor was as drab as any other building in the vicinity. The drone was, frankly, jealous of the sky. Of the colour it was allowed to have. But she was also thankful, in her own, strange way. The sky was also free, it was its own master, and it simply being there reminded the drone of her own freedom. Uzi let her digital eyes soften as she once again took in the sight of her room. Her room. Not somewhere she just slept in. It was hers. Her things, her sense of decor, the use of basically every single purple that was available in the area, it all screamed Uzi. She wouldn’t be able to have any of this if she wasn’t given freedom, a sense of independency.
The cost for this freedom was dire however, but luckily fate wasn’t collecting from her. Whilst Uzi didn’t necessarily have a vendetta against mankind, they certainly weren’t saints in her eyes – even taking into account the few souls who dared to even show a hint of kindness to her or other Worker Drones. If Uzi was actually able to make that call five years ago, to doom humanity for the liberty of her people, she would’ve gladly done it.
Eugh. Too much philosophy. Getting uncomfortable. Think of something else.
Uzi’s optics shifted towards the weapons rack, eyeing the newly-built contraption. It’s functional, but maybe a practical demonstration might help pass the time, Uzi mused to herself. If she’s lucky, she might even stumble upon another sentient while she’s out.
Digital ovals were narrowed and lined with confidence as Uzi shot up from her spot from the bed and approached the rack, her plan finalized – test out the weapons, map out whatever areas she hasn’t yet visited, and hopefully find someone to talk to. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Uzi’s synthetic vocals hummed as she cocked her head to one side, indecisive on what she should bring as a fallback plan. Most of the weapons have seen extensive use throughout the years, and even despite her master craftsmanship, it would only be a matter of time until they finally became irreparable. Shame, too; Uzi has a lot of fun memories with some of the things here. Maybe she’ll find a place to display them in when she returns, physical mementos of her time since she’s been freed.
The only weapon that remained that wasn’t suffering from this problem was one of the few firearms Uzi’s managed to find outside of the safety of her apartment. It was relatively exotic, as far as the emo knew, because a Super-Shorty isn’t really seen as a reliable shotgun in these trying times. And while Uzi would PREFER a full-sized firearm, the compact size of this shotgun means that it’s perfectly suited for her small frame. Besides, homebrewing her own 12 Gauge shells reaped far more rewards over creating her own rifle cartridges. Not that it’s impossible – it's just that producing 7.62 or 5.56 would take far too long for her liking, especially with the sub-par equipment Uzi’s forced to work with.
Uzi snagged the bite-sized Remington up from its position on the rack, and absent-mindedly checks it over for any issues. Bolt’s clear, pump’s smooth, there’s not a concerning amount of dirt or muck on it...
“Meh, why not. Gonna take it easy today,” Uzi clicks her artificial tongue before slinging the Shorty over her torso, so the weapon is resting on her front. Then, she grabbed the baseball bat (buzzsaw bat?) and swung that over her shoulder and kept it there, with a single hand securing it in place.
Uzi spun on her heel, and swiftly left her room.
Now, it was time to conduct some science!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
BBZZZZZZZZZZT!!
Uzi wiped the gore and entrails from her visor, before sticking her tongue out and flicking away the obstructions in disgust. If there was anything she hated about her life, it’s that her life is a really messy one.
“Eugh, you guys just get grosser and grosser by the day,” Uzi spits out, her insult directed to one very unfortunate freak that was recently acquainted with the business end of her buzzsaw bat.
It groaned in response, a flap of crimson-dyed flesh hanging on by a thread of its jaw as all of its energy was put towards crawling towards the drone in a feeble attempt at retaliation. It seemed as if slowly shambling towards her was no longer an option, given that the torso had just departed with its legs just moments before.
Uzi’s boot slammed down, her frame delivering enough weight and force to completely shatter the flesh and bone underneath her. It was like popping a balloon, and Uzi never truly got tired of it.
The drone let out a relaxed sigh, satisfied with her handiwork. Piles of bodies surrounded her on all sides, and major organs being separated from their original owners in the midst of all of the carnage. The sight was ghastly – there was virtually no evidence of a graceful encounter. To Uzi, though, the sight was proof of a job well done; her buzzsaw bat had worked flawlessly, even when the odds were stacked against her. Playing the memory back revealed that there had been about fifteen freaks in this area before her little field test. That memory file was recorded three and a half minutes ago.
...Okay, so she had a strength, agility and an intellectual advantage, but she can’t control the fact that she’s a drone!
Digital ovals were half lidded, looking a bit lazy, as Uzi scanned the small lot she’d found herself in. It was pretty isolated, and anybody on the street level would have a hard time accessing it. It’s never a problem for the freaks, though, but when is any environment a problem for those things? Not like it matters, as long as she gets to keep her little sandbox for her projects.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
...
What the fuck ?
Uzi immediately tensed up, her black-knuckled grip on her buzzsaw bat being held up into a defensive position. Whatever had just made that sound, it was certainly NOT a freak. Additionally, the small drone has enough life experiences (backlog of pirated anime shows) to know that the person clapping definitely isn’t friendly. It just screamed antagonist reveal.
The sound was echoing off the brick walls, reverberating across the entire lot. Uzi’s threat detectors were having problems with determining the source of the noise, which only led to a spike in her stress and anxiety. Should she run to the sides and try to better conceal herself? No, no, what if they try attacking her when she does that? They already know where she is anyways, better to let the other person make the first move.
“Well done, toaster. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone, neither human or drone, put up as hard of a fight against the freaks as you did just now,” a female voice called out, laced with equal parts venom and sarcasm.
Uzi, not one to keep her temper on her leash, immediately barked out a response. “You wanna see what I can do to somebody that ISN’T a decaying sack of meat?! C’mon out, I’ll show you!”
It only took three seconds for Uzi to immensely regret her words.
The small drone was slammed into the ground by a force so sudden and so powerful that her optics were momentarily knocked offline. Uzi could feel her frame being scraped across the concrete, every little scratch and dent being felt as the electricity flowed through the wires that were responsible for her pain receptors. Uzi had been hurt before, but nothing in her life could even come close to what she’s currently experiencing. It was agonizing.
Uzi panicked. She’s never had to face off against anything that could outmatch her in anything before. Sure, there were some freaks that gave her trouble – especially the mutated ones – or the other time with one particularly nasty human, but this? This was something else. There wasn’t about to be a fight here, no; it was a hunt . And Uzi Doorman was the prey.
Her camera feed was rebooted in record time, though the visual fidelity was extremely lacking. An annoyingly low framerate combined with the artificing and general low-quality rendering, though, was still more than enough to capture the face of her assailant.
A glowing, yellow ‘X’ that was adorned with a crown of five golden spheres stared down at Uzi. It creeped her out – it was as if there were way more eyes on her than there actually were. And accompanying it was a mouth full of vicious-looking fangs, almost as if the teeth were purposefully serrated.
And from within that valley of teeth did the voice from before once again resonate.
“Well? I’m here. What are you going to do, hm?” It taunted.
Uzi noticed that her buzzsaw bat was knocked out of her hands, and the Super-Shorty on her front wasn’t easily accessible on account of both of her arms being pinned down by her predator, something the emo only now had noticed. Out of options and bursting with desperation, the servos in Uzi’s neck groaned as she wound her head back as far as possible, before letting it fly forward into the face of whatever was on top of her.
The predator, apparently, wasn’t used to prey that fought back, evident by the sudden grunt and easily losing its advantageous position. Uzi scuttled backwards, her elbows and legs propelling her a few meters away from her would-be executioner. What Uzi wasn’t expecting, though, was the appearance of said executioner.
It had hair. Clothing. It didn’t have a lot, but... that was no doubt a jacket it was wearing.
Was... it a drone? Uzi’s never seen this model before.
Uzi, breaking herself out of her stupor, rose to her feet and dashed towards her discarded buzzsaw bat whilst the other drone was just about done recovering from the surprise attack. If the emo was lucky, she had milliseconds before that thing was done, and it would’ve been pissed .
“AGH! You rusty pile'a...” the voice faded away as Uzi clambered up and onto the roof of a moving van that was blocking one of the alleyways leading to the lot area. Luckily, the roof adjacent was only about a floor and a half higher than where she currently was, and Uzi’s reoccurring visits to this place had allowed her to find the quickest route available that let her scale the wall.
Jump out and reach for the air ventilation hood.
Pull up, then jump across to the dilapidated fire exit.
Springboard herself off the railing with the momentum, allowing her to just barely reach an exterior drain pipe.
Scurry up said pipe as far as possible, then jump left to reach a sturdy windowsill.
Climb that windowsill, and make another jump upwards to grab the ledge of the roof.
Pull herself up and book it.
That had taken about twelve seconds. If Uzi was fortunate enough, her hunter wouldn’t nearly be as acrobatic as her, and that would’ve scored the drone an insurmountable advantage in this chase.
What Uzi hadn’t accounted for, though, was the fact that her hunter could fucking fly. It had wings, that came from nowhere. Her digital eyes were hollow at the sight of the now-confirmed drone hovering above her. She wasted no time and began to sprint across the rooftop, ignoring the steady hums of what sounded like jet engines and the sensation of a yellow cross eagerly watching her run for her life.
It was toying with her, Uzi realized.
“You’re a slippery one,” that voice rang out once again. Uzi needed to get into a tight space, fast.
Luckily, she knew this area like the back of her hand.
Without warning, the small drone took a hard right, her legs and arms pumping in unison to help build up her speed before she leapt off of the roof, and crossed her arms as she smashed through the glass of an unopened window connected to an adjacent building. There were a few shrieks inside of the building, no doubt belonging to freaks provoked by the sickeningly loud shatter, but Uzi didn’t care. She had rolled to the best of her ability to maintain her speed, and continued running.
“Oooh, this is my favourite part!” she heard the voice of the predator taunt. Fortunately, though, it sounded distant enough that the thing wouldn’t be catching Uzi any time soon. Still, though, no use in celebrating early or slowing down. Uzi hung right, continuing through the maze of tattered apartments, overturned furniture and dingy lighting. Most of the windows were blacked out, being covered by curtains or strung-up blankets or other fabrics – which made the interior much, much darker than it had any right to be.
Uzi’s footsteps eventually slowed down, and became softened as she approached one room in particular. It was one of the last rooms on this floor, all the way down the hallway. Interestingly, it looked less like an apartment and more like... a military outpost? There were computers, maps, radio systems, lockboxes – even a generator and a pair of floodlights, though they were deactivated.
The predator called out to Uzi again, though it was obvious it was annoyed at the confined space it was forced into, having to chase the small drone. It wasn’t discernable what exactly was said, but it was getting closer. Uzi quietly ran around the room, anxiety levels spiking, as she tried to find a suitable place for an ambush. Thinking quickly, she flipped the lid of a nearby crate, thankfully already devoid of any contents, and settled herself in, digital eyes dimming and shotgun unslung.
The crack was just barely big enough for Uzi to peep through and observe her surroundings. It was dark, but hopefully the bright yellow lights would give away the predator’s position without it realizing. The tables haven’t turned, but Uzi at least has a chance to make her last stand here. Do or die.
She waited. The sounds of metallic heels grew closer. It didn’t sound like that thing was checking any of the other rooms...
WHAM!
The door to the apartment with the military equipment was flung open, the impact causing the hidden drone to jolt just a little at the sudden noise. Of ALL the rooms to check first, it just had to be this one? Uzi mentally groaned, but continued to lie in wait. The thumps of footsteps were slower now; no threats or insults were being made. It knew Uzi was hiding.
Uzi waited until the thing was right outside of the crate, her shotgun clutched close to her chest. There was one shell in the chamber, and the tube magazine was at full capacity, holding an additional two shells. Would it be enough to disable, or even kill this thing? She didn’t know, but Uzi was bound to find out at any moment.
Thump.
Thump.
Now!
Uzi shot upwards, briefly becoming a blur of black and purple. Her estimation was correct – the hunter WAS in fact, right outside of the crate. And judging by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t expecting for Uzi to be in there at all. They were hollowed.
They weren’t like that before.
"BITE ME!"
BLAM!
Ka-chunk!
BLAM!
The muzzle lit up the room in a brilliant light twice, before being replaced by thick smoke and the sound of hollow shells of 12 Gauge bouncing on the ground before being silenced. Uzi’s eyes were hollowed out as she watched the damaged drone was forced backwards, almost tripping over herself due to the lack of any actual feet attached to her legs. The drone’s left arm was just... gone, from the elbow down, and was covered in a slick black liquid. Part of the lower torso seemed to have survived the second blast, though, with only a few superficial rips and tears in the black silicone.
Uzi’s arms shook as the body finally slumped over, ending up in a sitting position against a nearby wall. Did she...?
No. That drone she’d killed – it couldn’t have been as sentient as Uzi herself, could it? The voice could’ve been a psychological tactic...
But the clothing. The hair, the fear in her eyes . There’s no reason for a killing machine to have any of it. That’d just make the job harder, right? What sick psycho would program any of that?
Uzi threw one leg over the container, shotgun and buzzsaw bat both being secured to her person via harnesses. Her optics were glued to the sight of the drone body before her. What if she was just like Uzi? Sure, she tried to kill her... even relished in the attempt on her life. Logically, Uzi shouldn’t be feeling bad at all.
So why was it that she felt a sense of pity for the drone body in front of her? That shouldn’t be happening, but it was. Maybe it was the extended loneliness? The fact that she very likely just ended the life of something sentient? Humans, she wasn’t bothered by, but never before had she needed to take the life of another drone before. Hell, she’d never even seen a gored drone before – her kind were too durable to be felled by bandits or freaks. The feeling was surreal.
“Fuck... what the fuck?” Uzi muttered to herself after a prolonged silence, her processors operating at full power as she decided on the next course of action. “You just... had to be alive, didn’t you...?”
Uzi bit her silicone lip. She really, really shouldn’t, but... maybe she could take the body back to her office building and work on repairs? The predator was- is, the predator is still a drone. Maybe Uzi could experiment on it and apply what works to her own frame? She could use a few upgrades and repairs, after all... yeah, that’s the plan.
At least, that’s how Uzi would justify it – and she would keep repeating that mantra to herself over and over as she dragged the body across rooftops and short bridges with a makeshift toboggan, all the way back towards her office building. The sun was beginning to set, the warm, orange rays being hidden by the artificial horizon. Deep shrieks and moans rang out all through the city as it got darker, but Uzi didn’t mind. She knows she’ll be back at home before they come out, at least.
Looks like she has a new project to work on.