‣ yoRHa type a no.2 | a2. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abandonware) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2025-02-05 04:36 pm
abandonware) wrote in expiationlogs2025-02-05 04:36 pm
[open] and all watched over
Who: A2 and open + some closed prompts
Where: all over Aldrip!
What: February open log for depressed androids
Warnings: Nothing yet.
Good morning, A2.
[Pod's clipped and calm voice makes her squeeze her eyes more tightly shut before they reluctantly flutter open. Dawn is beginning to make patterns out of the shadows of the tree branches. The snow is starting to melt. Cold water drips, drips, down onto the top of her head, the shock of it waking her up properly. A2 stands up in slow and careful passes, checking herself for damage. Those dreams...
But there is no damage, nothing outside of the usual. No pain, save the tingle in limbs that had been sprawled at odd angles on the cold, hard ground as she'd slept. Androids did not dream. And yet she had.
(Evolution?)]
Morning, Pod.
[Her own voice is without inflection. She takes her sword from where it leans against the trunk of the tree she'd been sleeping under, and studies the cold, blue-gray sky. Something is budding on one of the branches, a tentative spot of green on a dark, gnarled branch. Weak early morning light begins to flow in from the west. She can hear the discordant chatter of crows, intermingled with softer cooing from songbirds.]
The season is changing.
Where: all over Aldrip!
What: February open log for depressed androids
Warnings: Nothing yet.
Good morning, A2.
[Pod's clipped and calm voice makes her squeeze her eyes more tightly shut before they reluctantly flutter open. Dawn is beginning to make patterns out of the shadows of the tree branches. The snow is starting to melt. Cold water drips, drips, down onto the top of her head, the shock of it waking her up properly. A2 stands up in slow and careful passes, checking herself for damage. Those dreams...
But there is no damage, nothing outside of the usual. No pain, save the tingle in limbs that had been sprawled at odd angles on the cold, hard ground as she'd slept. Androids did not dream. And yet she had.
(Evolution?)]
Morning, Pod.
[Her own voice is without inflection. She takes her sword from where it leans against the trunk of the tree she'd been sleeping under, and studies the cold, blue-gray sky. Something is budding on one of the branches, a tentative spot of green on a dark, gnarled branch. Weak early morning light begins to flow in from the west. She can hear the discordant chatter of crows, intermingled with softer cooing from songbirds.]
The season is changing.
no subject
[After a little while:] It's loud in the city.
[She's attempting a conversation, in her awkward way.]
no subject
[Awkward. Should he say something or leave or...she speaks up before he can decide.]
...yeah. Loud and crowded a lot.