‣ 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
[ it's a crude way to put it, but she's not one to beat around the bush. ]
It's one thing to just toss guns and shit away, but you're like... basically a person. That's beyond fucked. They should fight for their own planet.
no subject
It seemed pointless to argue the difference anymore. Still. The sentiment is appreciated.
Being referred to in such a way — basically a person — only makes her discomfort rise. She keeps her hard, focused stare on the river instead of thinking too hard on the sudden and unwanted feeling.]
... They can't.
[Isn't it funny? 9S had asked her, his mind eaten away by the virus and his grief. Destroyed by his hatred of her. Doesn't it make you laugh?!
In the present, a muscle in A2's jaw twitches.]
... It's over, now. The war.