Freak-World: The Side Stories
Defrost
Freak-World: Side-Story A: Defrost Written by Muzzleruffels Commissioned by Kishin
It was a typical day within the solo-lab of Dr Melankhov; and by typical, I mean the kind when little to nothing would be accomplished, everything moved at a snail’s pace, and all of it due to the incompetence of the lab’s sole occupant.
Solo-labs weren’t usually like this, and unless the individual in question had absolutely no sense of passion or desire to make progress, many of Exotiq Andronics’ on-world one-man laboratories were the key breeding grounds of the company’s many technological innovations.
Melankhov, unfortunately, was a genuine sore thumb within this lot, and for more than one reason.
In the days of a youth long-gone, the Hungarian-born Nippet Melankhov (a first name he despised so much as to eradicate it, and leave only the latter) was a key member in the R&D field that led to many of modern day’s robotic discoveries. He was praised by all, credited by many, and collected such a vast array of awards that it did not seem shameful to hide them due to a lack of finding such a possible place.
Now, here he was, sleeping his Seventy-Two year-old ass off on a black-leather rolling chair and snoozing drunkenly on however much alcohol was considered ‘legal’ to work on; his labcoat, which hadn’t been washed in weeks, reeked of the stuff.
“Psst, Mr. Mellie. It’s time to get up.”
Unfortunately for the origin of the little voice, the balding old man was too bound by intoxicated sleep to hear; thus, resorting in that little voice to speak up a bit.
“HEY!! MR. MELLIE!! WAKE UP!!!!”
With a startling scream, the old man awoke suddenly (and was so startled he nearly threw himself off the chair), and in a fit of reddened frustration, began flailing his arms around aimlessly in the hopes that he would swat down the source of his rude awakening; luckily for her, she managed to flutter away just in time.
The sound of those wings motoring around only made the man even more flustered, and always knowing of where they originated from, he craned his head towards the source and muttered an indistinguishable flurry of insults at the thing.
“Ellenszenves baba menet! What is it you want now, you little bug?! Can’t you see I was resting?”
The ‘little bug’ set itself down on a nearby shelf (the same one adorning all those trophies I mentioned earlier), and although she wanted to explain the situation, she couldn’t help but catch her reflection on one of the gold and crystal encased plaques.
She was a little woman, a fairy to be precise, modeled after the same kind one would find within the pages of an old Victorian fantasy tale. Although an inch shorter than a foot, she held the distinctive structure of a mature woman, with a long and delicate frame fitted into a loose brown garment that looked like it was cut out by a small child; she was a fairy, after all.
She had a somewhat childish face, with short, rough purple hair doing little to conceal her long and pointed ears. Her wings, strung like those of a butterfly yet transparent like a fly’s, were just as larger as her body; a good thing too, because any smaller, and she wouldn’t have been able to hover away from that awakening of hers earlier.
“Hey! Are you looking at your reflection again?!”
Embarrassed, for it was a terrible habit of hers, the little woman recollected her thoughts and explained herself.
“Sorry Mr. Mellie, but you got an appointment coming up and I didn’t want you sleeping it off when she arrived.”
Despite his frustration, Melankhov couldn’t help but snicker a little every time he heard that cute British accent of hers; or at least, when it wasn’t screamed into his fragile ears without warning.
“Wait…..what appointment? Who’s coming here today?”
Producing a grunt of annoyance (she was always irritated whenever she had to repeat herself), she said, “You know, the…..”
Before she could finish her answer, the metal and glass doors of the solo-lab slid apart, and allowed entry to someone both she and Melankhov knew well; in fact, who didn’t know a Class Five when they saw one.
She was a real beauty, with a long and elegant frame adorned in a silvery white and blue-flowered kimono. Her back-length hair was a black as coal, a sharp contrast from the skin, which could be considered as pale as the snow itself. Her bare feet (she never wore shoes) made lightened steps towards the two; all the while her youthful face gave them both a soft and welcoming smile.
Melankhov was the first to speak, the sight of the mythical creature so beautiful as to pull him out of his drunken stupor entirely.
“H…Hello Hana, I wasn’t expecting you today.”
Hana only nodded in return, and not wishing to make someone feel left out, she faced a small black box facing them on a nearby desk and, just as equally, gave it a light nod. The little fairy shifted a little at the sight of those cold-blue eyes (the same cold-blue as the flowers on her kimono) staring down upon her, even if it was for a friendly gesture.
Curious as to what a Class Five was doing in his lab, Melankhov regained the young woman’s attention and asked her the reason for her visit. In a speed only sensible by those trained in the language of silence, Hana moved her hands in a flurry of gestures to explain her plight to the elderly doctor.
During an engagement of intercourse, she noticed that she all sense of feeling in her abdomen area had diminished, thus resulting in her partner in question to lose all interest and leave elsewhere. Not wishing for the next one to be so abandoning, she rode the nearest tunnel-cart to find someone who could help. She didn’t trust the technical teams to check up on her (most of the Fives didn’t, to be honest), so instead she made her way towards the closest solo-lab; that lab, so happening to be Dr. Melankhovs’.
Melankhov understood her plight well; he knew that most of the Class Fives would rather put their fate in the hands of an individual who took time and care into their practice rather than a random team of tech-heads who’s sole intention was to get something up and running again as quick as possible regardless of how it was done.
“Well Ms. Hana, Twinkle was just telling me about your visit, and I’d be willing to help you in anyway I can.”
Twinkle (as the fairy’s name turned out to be) realized that now Mr. Mellie was mixing up this situation with the appointment he had, but before she could tell him otherwise, the doctor had already gone to roll in a long, plastic table littered with an assortment of technical tools.
She figured he’s already gone to the trouble already, might as well let him continue on; all that she hoped though was that this repair session wouldn’t conflict with the appointment they had.
Carrying as much as his feeling arms could manage, the old man cleared the table of all its tools, and instead placed them on the desk in which the black box lied. While he was at it, he decided that the little Twinkle wasn’t fit to watch the events to come, and thus rotated the box a full 180 degrees away from them.
This caused the ‘fairy’ on the shelf to yelp out an annoyed “HEY”; she disliked the idea of not being allowed to watch something she had witnessed a countless amount of times, but, with little to nothing she could do about it, she merely seated her little form where it now stood, her little feet hanging from the edge.
With the table now cleared, Dr. Melankhov looked at the paled woman (who was a little relieved that Twinkle wouldn’t be observing her examination) and gave her a small nod; she knew what to do next.
Slacking her shoulders a bit, she began to loosen her arms out of the dresses’ massive sleeves, until finally both of them were free of the garment’s cover; the same went for everything from her neck to her waist. It was now time to finish what was started, and with the simple pull of the fabric belt, the silken blue and white dress fell to her feet.
Hana didn’t mind that she was now completely exposed to the human in-front of her, she was already used to it on the countless times she had been chosen as a sexual partner; and although his weary-green eyes gazed at her from top to bottom, Melankhov didn’t really care. Combing both a field and a lifespan like his, Dr. Melankhov had examined countless nude forms, all in a vast variety of frames with a variety of functions.
To them both, this was nothing new; it was just part of the job.
“Alright; if you’ll just fold that up and place it on the desk over there, then we can get started.”
The kimono was already folded up and resting on the desk in a neat, little square by the time he finished that sentence; she had been through this whole procedure before, after all. With that in mind, she now made the move to get herself up onto the table before he could even ask, and in just a few seconds, her nude, snow-white figure was already flat-out on the metallic surface, ready to be examined.
Melankhov was pleased that she already knew how this process worked, (Twinkle was just upset that she couldn’t see it all), and with not a moment to lose, he took the opportunity to take a close look at her nubile body.
She was (on lineage with her lore) a pale yet genuinely beautiful woman, with a structure modeled in an elegant show of grace. Her breasts were nearly two sizes away from being considered flat, yet not even her nipples were free of the ghostly color that enveloped her entire being. Her waist was well-balanced, with a belly that rose and sunk in a slow, almost rhythmic fashion; this however, was not the result of breathing, a function that she didn’t even emulate.
Her womanhood was well-sculpted, with the pinkish (surprising when compared to everything else) lips devoid of hair and free of ruffles. She was a tall creature, with limbs long but proportionately common, thin yet smoothly shaped. The nails on her hands were very long, yet lacked such a length on her feet; which, despite the fact nothing ever covered them, was as clean as those of a newborn child’s.
Despite the odd skin tone, she looked like every other stunning young woman out there, except for the one distinctive feature that separated her from both ham beings, and most of every gynoid out there: the insignia on her left-shoulder.
It was an odd design, a thickened ring that looked like a neon-red barcode bent around a golden capital A; all androids bore the overall design, yet it was the A that separated her (and all other Class Fives) from the rest of artificial existence.
As he looked at her from head to toe, there seemed to be no significant signs of damage or scarring anywhere on the body. The skin wasn’t punctured or leaking fluid (a common problem with androids modeled after her mythos), and her body didn’t show any extreme degrees of frame warping; meaning that the problem, as usual, was an internal affair.
“Well, everything seems to look good on the outside, which means we’ll have to open you up to find out what’s wrong.”
With that said, he reached over to the nearby desk to pick up a few of the tools he set down before: An electrical probe, seam pliers, and a common, purple silicone dildo; that is, if it wasn’t filled with a range of sensory instruments connected to a nearby tablet.
With those out, and a pair shock-proof surgical gloves, it was time for the ‘real’ examination to begin.
According to the dilemma she had, Hana’s problem could probably be found in the lower-half of her body, this was quite possibly due to the coolant system getting so worked up that the wires traveling from the Body Augmentations Computer to the lower sexual components got frosted over; an issue that commonly occurred with her kind of droids every now and then.
With that idea in mind, and with hands as skillful as those of a surgeon, he maneuvered the seam pliers around the entire region of skin covering the belly until it was fully encircled. As he did so, a faint trail could be seen following the handheld instrument, a result of the sections of skin separating from each other in what would be a fleshy segment of panel-covering.
With a black line now encircling the flesh of the belly, Melankhov set the tool down and placed his fingers into opposing ends of the oval, and making sure not to interrupt any frontal wiring, slowly lifted up the segment of snow-colored flesh with an aluminum sheet underneath. Hana was not surprised in the least at seeing the skin of her own belly being set down beside her; it wasn’t how she was programmed, it was just something she got used to.
Now that the inside of her belly was exposed, and armed with a pen-light, Melankhov took a look inside to see exactly what the matter was.
The innards of a Class-Five android are some of the most fascinating pieces of technical sculpt ever seen, with a portrait design closely related to the inner workings of the human anatomy; with a few alterations, of course. For what would be the organs key to the bodily function of digestion, here an entirely different form of “feeding” was taking place.
Instead of the bottom of the stomach, there was the dual-layered transparent blue sack with wafer-thin chips that allowed her to achieve the illusions of consumption and taste. Instead of the massive coils which allowed for the further processing of nutrients and waste, there were the thick, neatly-set cords and wires that spread from all of the abdomen’s mechanisms and rooted them down into a single cord that interlocked with the 3/4th section of the BAC system. And instead of the kidneys and liver, the final tools needed for the successful filtration of any undesired chemicals; there was the most crucial of all, the sole component that allowed Hana to fulfill her intended design: the external coolant modules.
Hana, is a very special creature of Japanese lore, a woman as cold as ice, in which only the warmth of a lover could thaw; for the techheads who were to recreate such a beauty to the modern world, this concept was definitely a problem. Installing a coolant module for the sake of internal composure was one thing, but also applying that to the outer covering (and allowing that to alter accordingly), was a baffling issue to overcome.
Luckily, for the more determined minds within groups once solely concerned with the paycheck, this problem, like many that would plague them in the long run, was soon resolved.
Not only was the number of coolant modules doubled, but all of their energy was put into the outside of the skin, which in turn (thanks to the application of aluminum sheets on the skins’ undercoating and the use of a plastic skeleton instead of a metal one) kept the insides of the android to a relatively cool temperature. For that to work properly, the skin had to change as well. Thus is why a special covering with a mid-layer of thermal gel was utilized instead; this also gave the illusion that when in the touching presence of an intimate partner, the skin of the beauty would warm up along with them.
This revolutionary design, however, came with a small price.
For the widespread coolant system to work without the risk of frosting to occur, it needed to have direct contact with the underside of the skin. As a result, cords had to be connected to three main sections of the android’s chassis: the abdomen, chest and neck regions; the latter had so little to work with, that it was decided that the verbal audio module needed to be scrapped.
Thus, was a clear answer, as to why Hana, along with the rest of her model-line, was mute.
Even as Melankhov fondled her small breasts (to check for successful arousal responses, of course) in every way he could, she didn’t even give a peep; she did, however, shift the expression on her face to one clearly showing the signs of pleasure. If she had the capability to blush, she would probably have done it the moment she was opened up.
After fondling the chilled lumps of silicone and wire (they were very cold, as usual), he couldn’t help but give the girl a sincere nod with the reply, “Sorry my dear, but it’s all part of the test.”
As sarcastic as it may have sounded, he genuinely was sorry.
He was not, in anyway, a perverse man; he had experienced sexual contact with an android only four times in his life, and all of which were in the early days of his youth, the wild days. Now, even as his job required some form of contact with these ‘high-ended sex-toys’, even as he now stood before this nubile young creature who could be willfully ravaged at any moment, he would refuse to lose his moral composure.
That’s why a great deal of the Class Fives came to him for maintenance and hardly anyone else.
As he expected from the ‘Boob Play’, the mid-section coolant cable wasn’t disrupting any of its’ simulated-touch chips, and no frost could be seen anywhere near that region; so that wasn’t the problem. If the upper-section cable had leaked in anyway, than Hana wouldn’t have been fit enough to make it in his lab in the first place; so that wasn’t as a possibility. This meant that there was only one more problem left to rule out, and unfortunately for Melankhov, only one way of doing it.
Retreating the penlight back to the chest pocket of his lab coat, Melankhov grabbed for the purple dildo and its’ connected tablet, all the while making sure that Hana hadn’t seen him retrieve them; if all was now well with her, than she’d know in the next few seconds.
With nothing to lose, the doctor slowly pressed the phallic rod of silicone and sensors into the entrance of Hana’s maidenhood; she didn’t even look up.
Melankhov checked the handheld tablet (which had a cable running into the base of the dildo itself) for any signs of electrical discharge or significant drops in temperature; no electrical shortages were shown, and the temperature was the same as the rest of the skin: as cold as ice. It still surprised him that both men and women would take the risk of such a seemingly uncomfortable entry to get a moan out of, but regardless of how everyone else’s sex lives worked, he needed to go deeper.
As he pushed the rubbery rod further into her (while again, not giving a peep of recognition on her part), he found that the internal temperature had warmed up a bit, and as he twisted the molded dick around to check for a rotational change, the temperature had gradually increased to the point where it was as comforting as the inside of a real woman; it even made the soft, squishing sound that would be heard when……..
There was a problem: if the vaginal component was really supposed to be faulty, then there shouldn’t be a squishing sound. The sexual secretion pumps only worked when the unit in question was in a ‘willing’ state of extreme intimacy; since Hana couldn’t feel a thing, there wasn’t supposed to be any juice-flow of any kind. It could only mean……
Before the conclusion could come to him, Melankhov’s right-gloved hand was sprayed by a sudden burst of aqua-blue fluid, and it continued to gush out along the sides of the still-lodged dildo.
“SZAR, EZ ROSSZ!”
The lower-section coolant cord had been compromised, and now coolant fluid was gushing out of the vaginal area like a broken water pipe.
It was the noise, and not the sudden burst of bluish fluid now pouring within the insides of her belly, that caught the startled woman’s attention. What had been a face of subtle and once eased passiveness was now baring an expression of panic and fear; and all of it, was not for herself.
Melankhov, believing he could cease the continual outpour of entire coolant system’s payload, had his hands deep within the bluish pool forming in her own stomach cavity; and with shock-proof gloves on, he thought he’d be immune to any electrical burst if there was one, yet there was something she knew that he did not.
Her coolant fluid had been replaced with a variety considered much more effective (no doubt installed by the techheads themselves), yet it resulted in the risk that if the fluid was set off by a well-sized short circuit, than the electrical shock would be so great that it could sear straight through the protective coverings of low-grade shockproof gear; much like the surgical gloves Melankhov was wearing right now.
If the coolant fluid reached the power-box within her chest (which it without a doubt was on its way to), than Melankhov would be seriously injured by the resulting shock; and with an age as advanced as his, it could just as well kill him. Without her ability to speak, there was no way of warning him, and thus she would have to find her own means of getting him away from harm, and fast!
If she could shut off her own power, than that would break the circuit and thus decrease the chance of a shock occurring; that, or it would deter his attention ‘out’ of the coolant fluid. Unfortunately for her, she was a Class Five, and there was only one way of deactivating a Class Five.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she raised her hands and reached around to the sides of her own head, and in one fell pull, ripped it off.
It wasn’t a clean move, to be honest. The skin around her neck stretched and pulled, all the while being a tad bit tougher to break thanks to that pesky thermo-gel; which, when the silicone finally began to tear, began leaking out of the open pockets of ‘flesh’. Because she was a Class Five, there was a bit of the BAC system built into her very skull, and the only way of detaching both ends of the BAC was by twisting the correct vertebrae; merely pulling it straight out, was a tough feat to accomplish.
Nonetheless, her head was now “clean” off her neck, and all she could do now was hope that it had got the well-intentioned old man’s attention; that, and the sound of her head making base with the hard-tile floor.
- THUNK*
The sound got his attention alright, for he turned to the left to see the cause, and within himself became horrified at what had just happened. Just as he pulled his hands (now tinted a faint blue at the wrists) out of the thermal fluid, it glowed bright and warm thanks to the inevitable electrical burst.
- ZZZAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!*
The sight drew his gaze away from the head for a moment, and led him to a terrifying possibility: if his hands had been in that fluid, than he, along with every component within the android’s motionless body, would have been burnt to a crisp.
The noise awoke Twinkle, whose minuscule body had fallen into stand-by mode during the entire operation. Her body fumbled around on the shelf up ahead, for she wished she could see what the commotion was all about, yet was unable to thanks to the doctor.
“Wha….What was that noise? What’s going on Mellie?”
The resolution that he could have been fried thanks to his own incompetence still shook the 72 year-old hard, who was trying to come up with an explanation for his little companion, all the while looking over the splotches of aqua-blue fluid now adorning the whitened surface of his labcoat.
“There……there was an accident.”
She couldn’t see the look on her mentor’s face, yet the mixture of sorrow and exhaustion in his voice told her well enough how it must have looked.
“Was anyone hurt?”
Was anyone hurt? The now-ringing words in his head allowed him to look back at the torn-off head now lying at the bottom of the floor, the hair-covered back facing him. As he paced himself towards it, and with a weary air in his throat he answered, “Yes, someone was indeed hurt.”
He now stood before Hana’s head, and after pulling off the blue-soaked gloves (with his hands still stained a vague blue) he reached down and picked it up, checking to make sure that the damage done had only been minimal.
The face was strangely calm for someone who had ripped their own skull off their body, with the lightly-parted lips showing a faint glimpse of her pure white teeth and pinkish tongue. The skin was undamaged, which couldn’t be said the same around the torn stump of the neck, along with all its’ ripped wiring. The eyes showed a sense of peace too, with the deep-blue pupils now fully-expanded and unmoving; within them though, a faint red light could be seen, a sight that made the Doctor grateful.
“But you know what? She’s going to be just fine.”
Indeed she would, for the ends of the BAC vertebrae had merely been unhinged by the tug, meaning that once she was calibrated to a new body, she would be up and running in no time.
The same, unfortunately, could not be said for her body. That damn thermal fluid had done so much damage, fried every piece of hardware inside so drastically, that the entire frame had to be scrapped. Not only had the ignorance of the techheads cost almost a quarter of a dozen grand, but it nearly cost someone their very life; and under the circumstance in which he was saved, it almost took two.
Setting the detached head on a nearby desk, Dr. Melankhov was at the point of going into an outrage when the overhead intercom blared loudly into the walls of the solo-lab.
“DR. MELANKHOV IN S-LAB 03, THERE IS A VISITOR HERE TO SEE YOU.”
Great; now the com-works was getting all fuzzy.
Pressing a button on the nearest wall, the flustered old man yelled, “Stop glitching out on me, I already had my damn visitor!”
“NEGATIVE DR. MELANKHOV, THERE IS A YOUNG GENTLEMAN HERE TO SEE YOU.”
Wait……a young gentleman?
The pint-sized fairy fluttered around overhead while faintly yelping, “That’s what I tried telling you before Mellie.”
A visitor was here to see him, but if Hana wasn’t the visitor, “Then who is it?”
Check-Up
Freak-World: Side-Story B: Check-up Written by Muzzleruffels Commissioned by Kishin
/////--UNIT:3FE32.4-STATUS-CHECK--///// ////--MOTION-CYCLE.B-MAINTAIN--//// ///--DIRECTION-SOUTH-MAINTAIN--/// //--SPEED-SETTING-4-MAINTAIN--// /--COURSE-DIRECTIVE-MAINTAIN--/
Kitty walked stealthily through the lower corridors of the Cube Five complex with a brisk pace in her steps, fueled by her unfailing desire to get herself checked up and back on the ‘field’ as soon as possible; or shall it be said, that she was led by her mass streams of algorithmic code commanding her to get repaired and back in full-service so more lines of programming could tell her what to do.
Even with that being the case, she could care less; in fact, she didn’t even have a strong grasp as to what caring was, and the lack of proper footwear (the reason for her silent pace) bolstered that fact.
She was a fine young woman, with an athletic yet slim frame draped in the flimsiest bits of clothing (if the singular, brown piece of cloth “covering” her body could be called that) the park could offer; other than the band of emerald jewelry around her wrist, that “bag” was all the wardrobe she ever wore.
Again though, she didn’t care, she couldn’t care, and the metallic-bronze heart etched on her right shoulder was evidence of her and all whom saw it.
The strong difference between a Class Four and a Class Three was the Four’s capacity and skill to understand beyond itself with such alluded calculations and protocols that it seemed naturalistic to its’ nature; a Three could pull no such thing off, and that gap grew significantly wider whenever those said Threes were the products of mass-corporate manufacturing.
Kitty was no exception.
There had been dozens of times, hundreds in fact, when she stood in-front of a mirror, and before her gaze stood a figment of myth and fantasy, a creature fleshed out from a Japanese cartoon. She was a slimly-built thing, as feline in structure as she was in ‘nature’, with light-tanned skin and orange-brown hair, she would indeed be entirely indistinguishable from any real human; that is, if it weren’t for the addition of some.......decorative features.
From the top of her skull popped a pair of triangular-shaped ears, with color the same as the hair they peeped out of. The tips of her nails were pointed, and shared a length similar to those of claws; yet not too long though, for the sake of intimate comfort. And the tail, the orange-brown tail which stuck out above the naval of her rear, and swayed to and fro with the frisk and energy of the one who had it.
Many times she saw this form in front of her, a form fullest in detail and unkempt from her, a form she called her own; and of all the things of intrigue, self-discovery, and pride that could be spoken about her, what did she say?
/////-- UNIT-3FE32.4-SELF-EVALUATION-INITIATED--///// ////--SELF-EVALUATION-PROCESSING--//// ///--SELF-EVALUATION-PROCESSING--/// //--SELF-EVALUATION-COMPLETE--// /--NO-ANOMALIES-DETECTED--/
Five lines of code: every fucking time.
It was nothing to bear pity over though, after all: she is a Three.
At last, she arrived at her destination: C-Lab 13, thirteenth out of Freak World’s four dozen on-site cast labs, and one of the few with only one human staff member inside. Her Humem programming taking over, the enthusiastic Kitty pressed the yellow button (a faint-pink in her eyes) at once, and stepped right in as soon as the door slid away.
Cheerfully she hollered, “Hello Rollie!”
It was evident that she should have knocked first, because “Rollie” was in the midst of getting his hard-on when the doors opened; even though the back of the chair he sat on obscured the sight of his pants undone, he did his best to get them back on swiftly.
“JESUS CHRIST! KNOCK FIRST, DAMMNIT!!”
His pants back on, he swiveled around to face the individual in ‘his’ lab, but as soon as he saw who (and what) it was, his demeanor cooled down a bit; he was just relieved a person hadn’t been the intruder, or he really would have had it.
“Kitty; Thank god it was only you. I thought you were………well what day a need, babe?”
Oblivious to the man’s prior activity before entering the room (and the reaction he gave after doing so), the ever-optimistic Kitty simply smiled as she made her way towards the crew-cut man fitted in a dull-blue mechanic’s jumpsuit sitting in a black-leather office chair. Even though he wasn’t a ‘guest’, the Humem was in full-swing now, telling the android to not only stand in-front of the man, but also to lean forward as far as her frame would allow and make near nose-to-nose contact with him; Rollie, was of course liking the display.
“Mr. Rollie, I have a funny itch all over me. And even though it feels good, my guest-friend didn’t take so kindly to me going off too soon. Do you think you can help a poor girl out?”
Good god; whatever ‘Mr. Rollie’ was jerking off to before, was nothing compared to the blood-flow this sex machine was granted him. With the sweet voice and the sly posture, (not to mention the fact that he could see her bare chest underneath that cloak), Roland (as the nametag on his uniform stated) was willing to help out in ‘any’ way he could.
“Sure Kit, I can help you out. Just wait by the table while I get the crew started up.”
With excited swings coming out of her tail, the girl made her way towards the table in the middle of the room, while Roland swiveled over to his desk for the tablet there. With a few taps of the finger, the “crew” began to shutter to life on the farthest wall from the room; all it took were a few *pop*s and *whirr*s, and all four of them were ready for work.
The four technicians, with synchronization only a machine could pull off, stepped together towards the center table of the room, waiting for their boss to come over and give out the next orders. As he hopped out of the chair, with the tablet and a pocketful of tools to go, he made his way towards the five androids; all the while re-evaluating his loyal crew.
They were twins, two sets of them; one pair modeled on Japanese virtual singer Meiko, and the other on another VA star, Gumi. The four women all wore slightly-unbuttoned technician uniforms like Roland’s, however unlike him they all had worker’s caps on, and the same navy-blue as their jumpsuit.
Even though they were all Twos, the white spade was nowhere to be seen on the shoulders of their clothing, but seeing as how they were just workers, and not actresses of the park, it didn’t need to be; besides, they were company-built, so it didn’t really matter.
When he finally got to the group, five pairs of brown, green and dull-grey visual optics stared back at him, all awaiting his command; only one, however, was at least pretending to show some interest.
“Alright ladies; today we’re doing a check-up on the cat-bot over here. We’re gonna open her up and test out each piece until we find what’s wrong. Everyone understood?”
All together, the Twos chimed in monotone, “Yes sir, Mr. Roland.” Even Kitty cried so, albeit in a more energetic matter than her lower-class counterparts.
With a clap of his hands and pulling a cord from the tablet, Roland said, “Alright then; ladies, let’s get to work. Kitty, sit up on the table for me.”
As the tech-droids flocked about, gathering the tools necessary for the task ahead, Kitty obliged the human’s orders immediately; and with a swift grab of the edge and a roll of her frame, the reflexive feline was kneeling on the table in no time.
Seeing this dozens of times before, the unimpressed Roland simply walked up behind and, tugging lightly at the edges of the cloth, began to pull away the only piece of wardrobe Kitty ever had. Naturally oblivious to her own exposure, the smiling gynoid simply scanned around a room she had been in dozens of times before, yet could never recall any details of it prior.
It was a box, a 25”ft. cube in the simplest of form and structure; and like every other C-lab (and to be honest, every other room in the entire building), it was as cheap as a plug-n-play cubicle system. With its’ steel-frame, polymer-concrete walls and tile flooring, not to mention the simple ventilation system and interchangeable wiring components, the Cube-labs were an easy alternative for more unnecessarily complex construction methods.
As Kitty continued her visual scan of the room, and as she ignored the tech-crew pulling on her body in various places (yet nowhere special), the android began observing the traits that made Roland’s cubicle his own.
A lot of people (especially the higher, more professional scientists) FWs’ R&D department have a sort of dislike for the techheads, and if one of these people was asked for such beliefs, good chances are that individuals like Roland would be a prime example.
The place was unkempt, with the floors covered with hydraulic stains, and crumpled balls of paper surrounding a surprisingly empty trash can. The desk was littered with pornographic magazines, giving no space whatsoever for any reasonable kind of work there. An overhead lamp would flicker every so often, sometimes to the point where proper work light was either minimal or rare. And in the very corner of the room, next to the charging stations for the workers, was a pile of spare construct parts, from bolts to cables, to a crushed BAC draped over a jar of hydraulic fluid.
Yet despite all these considerably minute and, to be honest, poor conditions for work, this was not the problem.
///--ENVIRONMENT-SCAN-COMPLETE--/// //--NO-EOI-DETECTED--// /--HUMEM-PROGRAM-RESUMING--/
Looking down upon herself, Emily was “surprised” to find that many of her component panelings were now gone, all resting in a small tray behind her. Even though she had seen this dozens of times before, it was like looking at the insides of some odd creature, only to realize that that creature was just you.
From her perspective she could see the slim pistons that allowed her arms to flex and bend, watch as two, red sacks (acting as a cooling/fake breathing mechanism) inflated and pressed against plastic ribs, and gaze at the very cylinder of touch-chip, lubricant wiring and silicone, that was in its’ entirety her sex.
What she couldn’t see, though, was the component panel Roland just removed from the back of her neck to the base of her spine: the same strip of fiber and skin that covered the feline units’ main power and computer system; a sort of, distant cousin of the BAC.
With this, Roland had complete access to all of Kitty’s diagnostics and algorithmic streams; all he had to do was plug her to the tablet, and he was ready to go.
“Ladies, will one of you play ‘soft-hand’ to the fine lady right here?.”
One of the Meikos’ came forward, absent of any doubtful motions, and thrust her fingers into the bare-skinned android’s snatch. As expected, the catbot let out a magnificent moan, signaling her tail to thrust itself in any direction possible. The orange-brown snake made it difficult for Roland to get the tablet plugged to a now-exposed port on the bottom of her neck; but, he managed to do it, and watched as the startup of unit codes and commands began flooding the 9-7in. screen.
/////////////--NEW-DEVICE-DETECTED--///////////// Exotiq Andronics ////////////--DEVICE:SYSTEMPROBE-ONLINE--//////////// Model 3FE32 ///////////--SYSTEMPROBE-ACCESS:GRANTED--/////////// Sexual/Acting Unit //////////--HUMEM-STAGE:SEXUAL-INTIMATE--////////// 707221-H-FE2 /////////--SEXUAL-REGION-ACTIVE:VAGINAL--///////// ////////--SEXUAL-REGION:V-STATUS:NORMAL--//////// RAM: 500GB ///////--!WARNING-CHEST-PANELING-ABSENT!--/////// ROM: 1TB //////--!WARNING-ABDONEM-PANELING-ABSENT!--////// Batt: 76% /////--!WARNING-L-BICEP-PANELING-ABSENT!--///// Status: Online ////--!WARNING-R-BICEP-PANELING-ABSENT!--//// ///--!WARNING-L-THIGH-PANELING-ABSENT!--/// Personality Construct: //--!WARNING-R-THIGH-PANELING-ABSENT!--// Kitty ver. 4.3.09 /--!WARNING-BACK-PANELING-ABSENT!--/ AI: L3 Sleeper Mode: Off
Roland wasn’t surprised by how verbal this thing’s programming was; she was a Three, after all. But as he began probing the hordes of programming dancing away at the screen, he found it very frustrating to do so when all the streamline would scream about was absent panels and active regions; not to mention that wretched coil tickling him with its’ fur. Luckily for him though, there was an easy-out of that dilemma.
“Whoever’s not pleasing the fine feline here, pop her limbs off.”
It was no secret (except from the so-far twenty-six guests who’ve used her) that Kitty was a primitive machine; both in mind, and in body. The advantage of this, of the few constructs like her had, was that the method of taking her apart was far less elaborate than what would be done to a body-Five or a body-Four.
With the limb-panels gone, the mechanisms that could cleanly detach each appendage, was now exposed; all they had to do was reach inside, take hold of the seal-tabs covered away in hydraulic cables, and twist them 45 degrees clock-wise. And, just like that, the limbs would be loose and free to remove, the risk of hydraulic-fluid leak and electrical bursting gone and out of ones’ worry.
Lacking the capacity and programming space to debate over who removes what, the three androids were on the job in no time; and in just a few simple motions………
- CLICK*
………the limbs were no longer part of their bodily construct, and placed evenly on the vacant end of the table.
The subject, who just lost all her arms and legs, was too enveloped by her own pleasure to even bother.
“Oh Mr. Rollie! Oooooohhhhh, thank you for fixing me up!”
Looking back at the screen, “Mr. Rollie” was pleased with the results,
////////////--!WARNING-L-TOPARM-DETACHED!--//////////// Batt: 75% (Alter) ///////////--!WARNING-R-TOPLEG-DETACHED!--/////////// Status: Online //////////--!WARNING-R-TOPARM-DETACHED!--////////// /////////--!WARNING-L-TOPLEG-DETACHED!--///////// Personality Construct: ////////--CONSTRUCT-LIMBS-DISABLED--//////// Kitty ver. 4.3.09 ///////--BATT-FLOW-CONCENTRATED--/////// AI: L3 //////--BATTDURATIONTIME-INCREASED--////// Sleeper Mode: Off /////--BATTDURATIONTIME:7HR14MIN32SEC--///// ////--HUMEM-STATUS:MAINTAINED--//// Sexual Response: ///-- HUMEM-STAGE:SEXUAL-INTIMATE --/// Enabled //-- SEXUAL-REGION-ACTIVE:VAGINAL--// Orientation: Bisexual /--SEXUAL-REGION:V-STATUS:NORMAL--/ Persona: Flirty
but he wanted to go further; and the sounds of an idiotic “girl” wracked with the most vocal of orgasms told him clearly what needed to be done next.
With the oblivious machine moaning and gasping away, Roland silently motioned one of the Gumis’ to clasp both hands between the sides of the catbot’s head. Eying her boss to give the finishing order, Roland simply nodded “YES”.
“Oooohhhhh! OH MY GOD, I FEEL GOOD! *gasp* I THINK I’M GONNA…..I THINK I’M GONNA…………I THINK I’M GONNA CUUuuuuuuuuuuuuu……….”
In mid sentence, the Gumi had twisted Kitty’s head a sharp 90 degrees to the right, and with a *SNAP*, her skull was now completely detached from her body; and, with a brain to no longer guide it, the limbless, headless torso, began to slow down; yet, never stop.
It still moved though, the cranial computer wasn’t needed much for that task, and the spinal computer was all to thank for that. Because her chassis was so basic, all the frame and motion control systems were most dominant in the thick cable-and-box system that acted like the model’s spine; yet what needs to be understood, is that despite the similarities in jobs, this CAB lacked all the complexity and advancement of the more modern and refined BAC.
“Keep pleasin’ the doll while I check her out, okay?”
Simply nodding, the Meiko tending the torso resumed her given work, while Roland on the other hand picked up the lifeless ball of hair and skin that was once living; or simulating the concept of living, at least.
As apparent from removing her head whilst in ecstasy, the light-tanned face was frozen in a mid-orgasmic expression, with her dull-grey eyes wide, wide open, and her mouth formed in the shape of an “O”, Kitty’s head seemed like something off a line of high-grade sexdolls; actually, that wasn’t too far off.
Nonetheless, she was in a state of complete joy when they took her head off, and now it just sat there in Roland’s arms, lifeless and stiff like a mannequin.
Luckily for him though, he didn’t have to go through the all the hassle of popping her cap off and digging inside to mine out all the info from her brain; no, all the vital data he needed was lodged in the network of the CAB, which he was connected to already.
Setting Kitty’s deactivated head snuggly on top a pile of her own limbs, Roland was now free of most the tablet’s hassle, completely capable of getting down to the bottom of this…..“funny itch” at its source.
////////--CRANIALPOWER-DISCONNECTED--//////// Kitty ver. 4.3.09 ///////--!WARNINGCRANIALPOWER-RELIANT!--/////// AI: L3 //////--!WARNINGCRANIALPOWER-MINIMAL!--////// Sleeper Mode: Off /////--FACAM-STATUS:OFFLINE--///// ////--HUMEM-STATUS:OFFLINE--//// Sexual Response: ///--AI-STATUS:OFFLINE--/// Enabled //--SPINALDATABASE-STATUS:ACCESSABLE--// Orientation: Bisexual /--?INITIATE-ARCHIVERETRIEVAL?--/ Persona: Flirty
Base Level (1-10): 4 Max level: (1-10): 8
Initiate Archive Retrieval? CONFIRM/CANCEL
Tapping the “CONFIRM” command, Roland awaited for the tablet’s response.
……Loading......
Watching as he waited, Roland examined as the Meiko-unit still fiddled her fingers inside the pulsing, pinkish lips of that torso; apparently still moist too, for the faint sounds of squishing could be heard with every thrust and dabble.
And with every entry the Meiko gave the body, the limbless stubs would twitch and shutter, and the cables inside would shrivel and pulse aimlessly. Lights inside the carved-chest would flicker every now and then, and the “lungs” would only pump air every ten seconds instead of one, no longer needing the extra work thanks to the open air. And, ever so lightly to his ears, Roland could hear a faint humming from inside the chest, no doubt the chassis’ power pulsating.
It was even more pleasing seeing the other three just standing there, examining the activities of their “sister” with vibrant yet lifeless eyes, gazing in unison with only the expression of vacancy upon their silicone faces; they’d be no different than masks carved in wood.
- beep*
Pleased the tablet’s task was done, Roland looked at the holo-screen in the hopes it’d gives news of enlightenment on the situation; it only got more baffling, though.
00110100 01100010 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110100 00100000 00110111 00110100 00100000 00110111 00111001 00100000 00110010 00110111 00100000 00110111 00110011 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110101 00110111 00100000 00110100 00111001 00100000 00110100 01100011 00100000 00110100 01100011 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 01100101 00100000 00110110 01100110 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110101 00111001 00100000 00110100 01100110 00100000 00110101 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 01100110 00100000 00110110 01100101 00100000 00110110 00110111 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110111 00110010 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 00111000 00100000 00110100 00110101 00100000 00110100 01100011 00100000 00110101 00110000 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 00111000 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110111 00110010 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110010 01100101
Strange, the tablet didn’t usually allow raw binary to flow through the display, no less have it engulf the entire screen. Even with that in mind though, the codes themselves made absolutely no sense. Everything was paired into twos, whether it be a number or letter, or both of one of the two; in all his years of computer coding (all two of them), the translation just didn’t make any sense to him………at all.
Roland scrolled down to see if the English-formatting codec had kicked into gear, but as he looked on……..
00110100 00110001 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110110 00110011 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 01100100 00100000 00110100 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 01100010 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110110 00110100 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 01100100 00100000 00110100 00110001 00100000 00110100 01100010 00100000 00110100 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 01100010 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110100 00100000 00110111 00110100 00100000 00110111 00111001 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 00110001 00100000 00110010 01100101 00100000
…….nothing had changed. Everything was a random jumble of letters and numbers; as if it was its’ own form of code. Nothing was understandable nor recognizable to his inept eyes. Except………….
00110100 00110001 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110110 00110011 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 00110110 00100000 00110101 00110010 00100000 00110100 00110101 00100000 00110100 00110001 00100000 00110100 01100010 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110011 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110101 00110111 00100000 00110100 01100110 00100000 00110101 00110010 00100000 00110100 01100011 00100000 00110100 00110100 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110110 00110001 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110110 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000 00110010 00110000 00100000 00110100 00110011 00100000 00110100 01100110 00100000 00110100 01100100 00100000 00110100 00111001 00100000 00110100 00110011 00100000 00110011 01100110 00100000
From the mass of unfamiliarity, there was something familiar. He only saw it once some time ago, in a sort of worker meeting about fatal codes, led by some Hungarian coot. What the code was however was out of his mind; yet it seemed like it was…….there!
…………Code Isolation Program Initiated………… …………Code Isolation Selected………… {00110100 00110001 00100000 00110110 01100011 00100000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110110 00110011 00100000 00110110 00110101 00100000} …………Isolated Binary Scrambler Initiated………… …………Isolation Binary Scrambler In Progress………… …………Isolation Binary Scrambler Complete………… { 41 6c 69 63 65} …………Code Analyzer Initiated………… …………Code Analyzer Scan In Progress………… …………Code Analyzer Failed………… …………Foreign Code Unidentified…………
That code……..he remembered it at the meeting. It was used hundreds of years ago, but eventually it died down once electronic became the thing. Apparently though, the sequence he saw just now on the screen (at least in the best he could make out) translated into something like……….Alice.
Alice.
“Oh shit.”
Thinking on his feet, Roland pulled the tablet cord clear out the CAB’s port, and ignoring the warnings flashing-red across the small screen, shut it off completely. The damn thing had to be wiped hard if it was ever going to get used again; but remembering what else was in the room with him, he knew the tablet wasn’t the only thing that needed resetting.
With his action drawing the focus of brown and green eyes towards him, Roland glanced at the four androids looking at him intently; especially the one kneeling down, and touching the infected body.
“All units, initiate immediate deactivation protocols now!”
They didn’t have time to vocally oblige, for the phrase ‘immediate’ is literally immediate.
Like a master abandoning their marionettes, the four units lost all sense of life to them, their limp bodies held up only by the stiffening of their legs, and the resting on one another’s shoulders. A Gumi and the other Meiko stood upright together, their bodies propped up by the support of the other, their heads resting together; if Roland had a camera, he’d take a picture of the two vacant faces ‘posing’ together. The spare Gumi simply bent forward as much as she could, her arms and head dangling at the expense of her chest.
The Meiko attending the torso had slumped against the metal table, her brown-haired head resting upon its’ rim, her hand still inside the twitching torso. Speaking of which…….
Roland pressed the back of the CAB, holding onto it to make sure it’d work; and it did, for all its’ motion had now ceased within. All the lights turned off, the sacks shriveled and stayed shriveled, and the pulsating battery, beat no more.
Roland sighed, not in relief, but in the wake of more unrelenting work up ahead; and knowing what he needed to do next, he went to make a phone-call.
It was a great disappointment to the company upon hearing the news of Roland’s discovery with Model 3FE32, because the company was getting fed with his poor record as a head technician; and this reviving discovery of the ALICE virus was, in their eyes, the straw that broke the camel’s back.
You see: the reason why techheads are commonly reviled for their position as head technicians has nothing to do with their working conditions or their prior technical status. No, it’s because so many of them, who have been given the sole responsibility to keep this park’s main source of income clean and good as new, act like a bunch of kids who’d been given their dad’s shotgun.
They were reckless but lazy, bold yet arrogant, and some, like in the case of Roland, did a fine shitty job at messing things’ up.
Roland was a mess, who had a tendency to be slow at his job, sloppy in his work, and had maintained a steady unit-decommissioning rate of eight units per month; it was even without doubt that he was using some of them himself, a forbidden action by any and all techheads, chief or not.
And this last incident, regardless of whether it was ALICE’s fault or not, was Roland’s ticket off this resort, and back to Lunar School for extensive training.
His technician status revoked, his crew units repurposed and reassigned, and his lab manned by someone else, the corporately and professionally disgraced Roland Kingsley left Ganymede the next week.
Only months later would he come back, as a tourist.
Kitty, unfortunately, would have no such luck as the Two’s reassigned and reused.
Her infection with the seeder virus called ALICE was considered fatal on the spot, and for the sake of keeping the infection contained, she was sent to the Warehouse to stay forever.
There, she lays deactivated and disassembled, never having been on or repaired since Roland had her, sleeping in pieces along with the rest of Freak World’s failed constructs; from burnt-out frames to virus-ridden models, the Warehouse is where all failures are sent, failures like Kitty, and failures like ALICE.
Cassie the Test Droid
Cassie the Test Droid A Freak-World Side Story by Muzzleruffels
"Are we ready to go?"
"Not quite; The CTD's still treading it's way towards the event zone, which hasn't even been fully primed yet."
"Dammit; the CTD was supposed to get there a century ago! Is there any reason why it's taking so long?"
"For one, the CTD isn't the most environment-savvy chassis we have; it's durable, not endurable. Also, the zone it's traversing through isn't that friendly towards anything unfamiliar to it, and if I can recall this is the first time we've sent a CTD up there."
"Fair point; note me when it gets there."
"Yes sir."
The walk up Mount Polythemus wasn't so much a walk as it was a climb; a tedious peril of no worry for Cassie the Test Dummy.
Dressed in an old-fashioned white tunic and belt, and matched with a iron sword and copper shield appropriate for the era, what traversed up the near-hostile terrain held an appearance no different from that of a well-fit, 24 year-old woman; and yet, such physical indicators were only considered vestigial to Cassies true purpose and design.
Yes, the Caucasian amazon with long, gold curls and steel-brown eyes was not truly any of these things, but all these attributes were merely cosmetic to the cold, hollowed blank that hid underneath. But one would not need to delve deeply to find this, for they only needed to glance at the symbol of Clubs labeled on her bare shoulder, inked in a bold, black.
"Sir, the CTDs just made it up the mountain pass and are now in the event zone."
"Excellent! Start up the trigger program and prime the receptive gauges."
"Yes sir."
At last, Cassie had made it up the mountain, and now stood 20 feet from the cave entrance that stood on its peak. A faint, orange glow could be seen from the cavernous maw of jagged earth, with what appeared to be two marble pillars propping the stone walls up, their worn features suggested neglect to the site.
Yet, as Cassie soon discovered, the place wasnt as abandoned as appearance suggested, for a woman no older than she stepped out from behind one of the pillars, weeping as doing so. Dressed in the same wears as Cassie, the young brunette tearfully said that her name was Olivia, and tried her best to sorrowfully speak her plight.
"Dear adventurer, please help me! My sister and I were traveling up the mountain to seek the Pool of Acesco, and we..we found it inside this cave. But then.a.horrible monster attacked us! My dear sister and I were separated, and I think..I think she's still in there!"
Although this woman was clearly consumed in an immense grief, Cassies face showed no sign of sympathy or remorse, her lips shut and still, as if cast in an immovable mask. Regardless, Olivia still spoke.
"You are armed; if you can slay the beast, the Pool is yours, just please save my dear sister!"
Without saying a word, the blonde-haired warrior stepped into the mouth of the cave, and made her way towards the crags inner chambers.
Olivia didn't watch, but instead slunk back behind the column of white, and stood still for a few moments; before the cable plugged into her back sent a jolt from the nearby wall, and thus she repeated the events of before, only without an audience to witness.
"Please, help me! My nameis Olivia, and I am in need of your help!"
"Okay, make a note out of this: Install a shutdown sequence to the trigger animatronic after the subjects exited the event zone. We dont want the stupid thing looping to an empty space."
"Understood; The CTDs entering the main event zone now, sir. Shall I initiate the event model now, or should we wait until the CTDs triggered the event fully?"
"Nah, lets startup the model now; lets see how the CTD reacts to something out of the script."
"Yes sir."
As one could guess from the front door, the Cave of Acesco was no hospitable place, for the most part.
The inner-walls were poorly carved out the dark-red stones of the mountains' true geography, and yet done with such expanse that this was no more a cave than it was a cavern, a great hall bathed in the orange-glow of the temple's only light source. And indeed this once was a temple, for around the massive firepit were the remains of white tables, now brittled and scattered as the same columns holding the entrance up.
Amongst these relics, however, were the things that truly sucked any possible delight from the scene.
As Cassie entered further in the massive hall, she could see them clearly: statues of all shapes and sizes, human and half-human creatures transformed into stone, their faces forever frozen into a mask of fright and horror.
Cassie could care less for such decorations, for her only objective was to find the trigger target, and perform as adequately as the test enscribed; so set on her mission was she, that she failed to differentiate the steps of her sandals, from the stealthy slithering slinking behind.
Past the well-endowed flames, was the only attribute of this place one could consider to be "devine": The Pool of Acesco, whose crystal-clear waters sunk into a smooth indention in the far back of the room, the glistening surface still, and undisturbed by the dust that lay around it.
At the foot of this pool stood one of the hall's many statues, only this one bore not the look of despair, but one of happiness and hope, and did so as it reached out for something no longer there; if Cassie could recall memories, she would have seen that this one seemed familiar.
"My young thing; what is it you think you're doing here?"
Cassie stopped dead in her tracks, and if she could change the expression on her face (and bear the sentience for such a significance), she would most certainly show fright for the sultry, smooth voice that hid behind her.
"Trying to steal from my pool? As many others have tried?"
Slowly, as proceeded by the caution protocols flaring up in her mind, Cassie turned to face her offensor; quickly, however, she was spun full-circle, and stared into two, golden slits, glowering with an emotion she was encapable of.
"AND FAILED?!?!"
Cassie, the CTD, was face to face with the deadly Gorgon, gazing straight-forward into the eyes of the equally beautiful Medusa.....
"Aaaaaannnnddd nothing's happening. Why isn't the Flaw-Flag working?"
"The Medusa Unit's Flaw-Flag is functioning sir, but the CTD's not registering it."
"Damn! Make note for the next trial-run to send a Dummy that follows the Flaw-Flag registries, but for now we'll roll with this."
"Yes sir; initiating CTD's battle sequence."
Unmoved by the snake-woman's petrifying glare, Cassie shuttered momentarily as her Battle Sequences began loading up, a sight that made the gorgon confused. This acted as the perfect opportunity for the Test Droid to swiftly grasp her sword, and attempt what should have benn the blow to end the battle before it began. Luckily though, Medusa caught second-glance to it and managed to duck aside, all be it came at the cost of one of her green dreadlocks, a substitute for the snakes she couldn't afford.
Upset for even such a minute loss, the creature's pale-green face reddended with inmeasurable fury, and teeth gritted towards Cassie. The four, extended canines that stood out amongst what seemed to be a set of flawless, white teeth were clear as day; and matched by the forked tongue that swiftly licked the air, Medusa made her anger known to the 'toy' that dared harmed her.
With a "Foolish mortal! You will pay for your insolence!", she slunk back amongst a nearby pile of rock, sliding away upon a massive, leathery-brown tail.
Cassie, with sword in one hand and the shield in another, followed suit with no regard to what trick may be hidden behind that mound of rubble. Surprisingly though, there was nothing there, and was instead rewarded with a taunting cackle from somewhere off in the chamber.
Save for the steady fire, the air of the cavern was grasped in an unsettling silence; only every now and then, could the faint shift of stone be heard, matched with the even fainter sound of a scaly vine scraping along the floor.
Yet Cassie was unamused by this teasing, and "thought" it best to leave behind her shelter of rock to pursue the target, only to be welcomed by the graze of a massive bolt against her right-shoulder. She swiftly ducked behind the mound, and just in time as Medusa prepped another shot with her golden bow.
"Holy shit! I thought we had the arrowheads switched out with rubber ones; those things are lethal!"
"After the bluntness of the Archer's trial, you said you wanted something, as I quote from you, 'More eye-catching'."
"Yeah, they're eye-catching, but we're sure as hell not going to use them on tourists!"
"Indeed, sir."
The bow strike had managed to tear a great deal of skin from her shoulder, and although the glinting steel underneath was fully exposed, it had failed to damage any of Cassie's armatures in that area; she was fine, but the next hit might not grant her such luck.
But Cassie had a shield for a reason, and even something as uncalculative as herself wouldn't take this opportunity to use it.
Seeing her prey crawling out from its hiding spot, the gorgon beast readied her bow and fired with a hint of glee in her eyes, which quickly turned to rage at the sight of her arrow bouncing off the copper circle pulled infront of her mark. Determined to try this tactic again, Medusa slid around the shield-cowering girl as swiftly as her lower body would allow, and no matter how many shots she could fire off, all failed to pierce her foe.
Dashing her bow aside, the now enfuriated snake queen hissed between her teeth, " Come on coward! Hiding won't save you from me; NOTHING CAN!", and with little care in the world lunged at the girl.
It's this abandonment of caution, that would prove to be the monstrous woman's doom.
As soon as the gorgon was upon her, Cassie spun a full half-turn from her target, keeping sure the back of her shield, for the reflection it provided, would give clear sight for the hand that landed the final blow. Swinging as she spun, the sword in her right hand for moments alone grew heavy and worn, before it became light again, and struck the ground as sharply as its edge, now hued a faint crimson.
The world all but stopped, and its occupants, one looming over the other, stood still and silent.
Stunned, the gorgon tried to speak, but found doing so an impossibility; as so was the power of motion. She could, however, look down at the girl who kneeled and held their back before her, and thought to herself how such a weak thing could possibly have done her harm.
Before another thought could reach her mind, her head lost sense of all balance from the body it belonged to, and met the red stone floor with a solid thud. Medusa..........was dead.
But none of that could be said for her body, who now commandless began flailing its being around, its bare neck squirting out a mixture of electrical sparks and crimson fluid.
"Ooohh, Remind me to change the color of the hydraulic-fluid to something a little less.......realistic; same goes for the neck stump."
"Yes sir."
"Set up the CTD's final procedure through the event, and for gods' sake, send a kill code to the Gorgon unit before it breaks itself."
"Yes sir."
Caring less for the showers of "blood" that now coated her, and the body that slowly died behind her, Cassie picked Medusa's head off the fluid-soaked floor, the color of which couldn't be differentiated from the soil of the cave.
She inspected the head for only a moment's glance, watching as the lips twitched minutely, and that accompanied with the frequent drop of red-dyed hydraulics out the neck every now and then; as long as even a trickle remained inside, the Medusa's skull would continue to function, albeit on a vestigial degree.
With her prize in hand, Cassie made her way towards the Pool, ignoring the headless body that, after so long finally slumped onto its own tail, which now ceased even the slightest quivers.
Now at the foot of the large pond, Cassie held the head above the Pool, and awaited for the voice within to give command.
"Alright; initiate the 'Acesco' sequence."
"Yes sir; initiating Play-Sequence:Acesco"
The deep-blue waters of the shallow pool began to illuminate, brightening with an immense, white glow that lurked underneath. Within, an angelic, albeit mighty voice spoke forth, thanking its champion for their efforts.
"Brave soul, you have vanquished the once mighty Gorgon, who long ago had entrapped me within the waters you stand before now. As reward, I offer you a gift: Drink from the waters of this pool, and you shall be gifted with riches beyond your wildest dreams."
"Now this.........is where things get interesting. Open the CTD to all possible scenario-routes; lets see what when the little Dummy has to choose for itself."
"Yes sir."
As tradition with any mythological being of immense power, there tended to be tricks twisted with 'simple' rewards; and the goddess Acesco's promise of riches was no different matter.
As the goddess told her, if Cassie drank from the pool herself, then she would be healed of all her ailments; quite possibly a guarantee of fixing up her shoulder. Looking over at the exposed metal, the corner of her eyes caught what may be their 'second' object of interest, kneeling over by the water with a smile on its face.
If she could give the water to Olivia's sister, then maybe she would be restored from her petrified state, and reunited with her weeping sister. Surely this was the statue, the similarities between it and the woman outside were uncanny.
Yet again, Cassie "contemplated" this while bearing that forever unchanging stare, and unsurprisingly it did not take long to make her choice. If the pool's water could heal both her and Olivia's sister, then that means.........
Without hesitation, Cassie dunked the disembodied head into the shallow waters, waiting however long enough it may take for the pool's magical properties to kick in. Seconds later, she pulled it out, and was welcomed to the sight of the Gorgon's fully reanimated skull, its mouth gaping as if for breathless air.
If the Pool could revitalize a wounded warrior and an old statue, than surely it could do the same for the dead, regardless of what state they were in.
Cassie held her chin high and raised her newfound prize, for with it, the power to freeze her foes in their tracks was now hers to do as she saw fit. Proud of her victory, she gazed into the eyes of the Gorgon, now renewed with life and vigor, and whose golden slits glowered with a malice only she seemed capable of.
It's a pity though, that Cassie stared for too long, for in the midst of her victory, the poisonous glare of Medusa overcame her, freezing her to the very spot in the very pose she now stood in; only this time, she had the luxury of remaining as she was, and not turning to stone.
But in her state, what's the difference?
"Okay, now it decides to accept the Flaw-Flag, and just after it's won too. Shit. I have to admit though, pretty interesting that the CTD chose the third path; that's a first if I can recall."
"Sir, the CTD's failure to complete the event means that Trial Run 6 is over. Shall I send down a technicians team to clean up and prep for Trial 7?"
"Sure, only suit up yourself; your coming down with me."
"Yes sir."
The Hall of Acesco wasn't as bad as Arnold thought it to be, as multiple visits to the place proved to him that this wasn't an entirely bad spot to spend some 'alone-time' in; or turn into a tourist attraction, as it was assigned to be four weeks ago.
When the park had plans to setup another attraction zone, many people at the time thought it a perfect opportunity to go for an 'old world' theme similar to that of the Ancient Japan site, albeit in a more European route. But before official construction could begin, a mock-site was built to test out the themes and dynamics of the new zone, with the top executives putting Arnold and his assistant Ivy in-charge. Who, as Arnold watched from a distance, was examining the cut marks on the base of Medusa's severed head, which once again was returned to a vegitated state of existence.
He watched as his partner, a Four with a personality a Class lower and a body even lower, eyed the main-spinal-attachment (the thing that truly held the head on its shoulders) with careful observation. Only when she realized she was being observed herself did she make her way towards Arnold, who although realized was caught, could care less; Ivy ignored it by doing what she called, 'idle chat'.
"The MSA appears to have worked this time; disconnected from the BAC almost a tenth of a second before the sword made it a quarter through the synthetic flesh."
Handling the head over to her partner, who was not wearing the protective gloves she had on, was welcomed to the sight of red-coloured hydraulic fluid on his hands. Regardless, she continued her assessment.
"Also R&D called, suggested that we change the neck flesh to something a little more expendable than silicone; perhaps liquid latex."
Handing the head off to a nearby worker, and making sure not to get anymore fluids on his suit, Arnold told his associate that latex would do for now, so long as it looked convincing.
"Oh and Ivy, tell them that the hydrolite water works fine for the machines, but maybe we'll need something that's actually drinkable for the humans here."
With her common-used "Yes sir", Ivy was off on the network to tell the R&D (located ten miles away) her partner's suggestions, yet left her body in a motionless state by doing so. Fortunately for her, Arnold would not ponder the sight of her kinky, albeit primitive frame, but instead of the glistening pool of hydrolite he spoke of earlier.
He thought the idea was impressive, the concept of using nanite-infused water to send codes and information fascinating to him; as he witnessed half an hour ago, the water alone overode the deactivation protocols on a severed head, allowing it to reactivate without any main command whatsoever.
It's a shame it wasn't consumable though, for humans anyway; but if these trials broke through as he hoped, maybe it can be used for alternative reasons elsewhere in the park.
"Mr. Arnold, we have the CTD prepped up if you still wanna see it."
Arnold turned his back from the pool and followed alongside the worker, looking over as they passed by the headless "corpse" of Medusa, now carried by four other men to a nearby trolley. But as soon as he faced forward again, he almost chuckled to himself, for the sight of the fully nude Cassie the Test Droid always reminded him of the deceipt this place was capable of.
Although sitting, she did so erect and straight, her 'eyes' tracking the two men that sat beside her; one holding her outfit, the other, holding her skin. The worker Arnold followed picked up the skin and handed it to him, who was unamused by how rough the gesture was; by Cassie being fully naked, it meant Cassie's true self was now comletely exposed.
"Soooooo, what am I looking for?"
The man unscrewing Cassie's back covering began to chat away, telling him something about the skin's unusual succeptance to the arrowhead, which was not as sharp as Arnold thought it to be; but he could care less, for as the man rambled, he couldn't help but look at the suit he now held.
It was a suit, truly, and one-piece designed to slip over the CTDs with the intent of accessing 'tissue damage' without spending too much of a budget; but come to think of it, the materials and textures were undoubtably no different from those used on the higher-end models, and nowhere was that more noticeable than the face.
Unlike the rest of the suit, the face held its shape, acting as a hyper-realistic mask to the otherwise smooth and featureless curves of the dummy's heads; being just a mask though, it was incapable of any expression other than the blank stare androids are famous for. None of that stopped it from being cute though, with its flush, cream skin framed by golden locks of hair which (along with the vacant, brown eyes) were built into the suit, it all seemed nothing like the steel-plated BJD that sat down before him; and that blank head, with nothing but two circular cameras to break the surface, helped that sense of disbelief.
"Arnold, do you want this or not?"
His train of thought halted, Arnold looked down at the one-inch black cube held before him, the dummy's registry pack just pulled out by the worker from Cassie's back. It was the things' data retrieval system, from temperature readout to PSI measurements and sound pollution, the heavy-alloyed box was their main source of high-compressed on-field information; without it, all that happened today would be for naught.
Swiping the cube from the worker's hand while muttering an "I'll take that", Arnold exchanged it for the skinsuit, and before walking off gave the trio of men one final note of advice.
"One more thing: Apparently 'this' CTD had some issues accepting some Flaw-Flags earlier. I advise you either fix that, or scrap it entirely."
As rude as it seemed, all three workers acceptingly shrugged; they admitted that this model was kind of old, and that a new replacement may be necessary.
With the cube in-hand, Arnold walked out of the cavernous hall, and made his way towards the hovercraft that lay awaiting outside. On his way out he passed by a worker tweaking a few things with the Olivia animatronic, probably to fix the loop sequence as he hoped.
"Dear adventurer, please help me! My sister and I..."
Arnold sighed to himself, unable to believe that there would be five more of these trials; but, if it meant progress, regardless of its pace, than it was most certainly welcome.