<img style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;" src="http://i.imgur.com/OHyHtms.png" style="avatar]She remembered her conception; the factory line. All those probes and sensors inspecting every minute detail of her chassis before she was deemed ready for display. A showroom, with ventilation shafts feeding mentholated air through the ducts to ease the harsh residual chemical odors. Oxidized polyethylene hybrid material capturing the figure of a vibrant youth. Her buyer asked for skin pale and hair pink, so when his reaction was borderline disappointment, Kae hadn't understood. Wasn't she exactly what he wanted? Tall, shapely, and in the tones he had chosen from a palette of customer favorites. She was even upgraded for enhanced functionality, with waterproof motherboard behind lab grown organic epidermis. She was as real as she could be - as any Synthetic could be - yet he never once seemed happy with her performance.
He certainly hadn't loved her.
It had been years since she was released from her previous owner, and though there were laws in place to protect the rights of fulfilled Synthetics, that didn't stop the world from frightening Kae. Possibilities weighed heavily on her mind; A mind one would mistake for human if it weren't for the series of implanted metal socket holes running the length of her spine. No one knew what she was until that small part of the package was exposed, and more often than not, it led to more trouble than it was worth. The value of a re-marketed Synthetic was incredibly low, and in this vein of reasoning, Kae had been left to see what means she could manage for herself without relying on what she was inherently.
Now, in the gloom of lower Saigon, she was best known for serving drinks. Kae didn't make the drinks she served, though she could have it she was allowed to- She wasn't. Rain drenched streets filed in soaked patrons, and on quiet nights, she crawled onto the roof to smoke cigarettes that did nothing but overwork her heating system, kicking her oxygen filtration system into high gear. This night was one of those nights, with a few scattered individuals dotting her peripherals as her painted pink nails clicked teasingly against the counter. There was no real sign of impatience over her features, but azure ocular implants scanned the joint several times before finally ceasing to rest on the entrance of the establishment.
"Slow night." She mentioned as one hand rose to tug at her ear lobe, jostling the several silver studs lining the cartilage. "Why do you think it's slow?"
The bartender shrugged before commenting, "Because it's a tuesday night, probably. Couldn't say."
The Synthetic sighed from her perch on the bar counter, her rear against a slab of clear plastic that wrapped around the serving area like a protective ring. Crossing one thigh over the other in the skin tight leggings she wore, Kae offered quietly, "People should still drink on a Tuesday, Marv." The issue wasn't worth pressing further than she had, and when a glare was issued in her general direction, the woman slipped off the bar to take a proper seat at a nearby table. At this rate, her tips were going to be shit. Perfect.
He certainly hadn't loved her.
It had been years since she was released from her previous owner, and though there were laws in place to protect the rights of fulfilled Synthetics, that didn't stop the world from frightening Kae. Possibilities weighed heavily on her mind; A mind one would mistake for human if it weren't for the series of implanted metal socket holes running the length of her spine. No one knew what she was until that small part of the package was exposed, and more often than not, it led to more trouble than it was worth. The value of a re-marketed Synthetic was incredibly low, and in this vein of reasoning, Kae had been left to see what means she could manage for herself without relying on what she was inherently.
Now, in the gloom of lower Saigon, she was best known for serving drinks. Kae didn't make the drinks she served, though she could have it she was allowed to- She wasn't. Rain drenched streets filed in soaked patrons, and on quiet nights, she crawled onto the roof to smoke cigarettes that did nothing but overwork her heating system, kicking her oxygen filtration system into high gear. This night was one of those nights, with a few scattered individuals dotting her peripherals as her painted pink nails clicked teasingly against the counter. There was no real sign of impatience over her features, but azure ocular implants scanned the joint several times before finally ceasing to rest on the entrance of the establishment.
"Slow night." She mentioned as one hand rose to tug at her ear lobe, jostling the several silver studs lining the cartilage. "Why do you think it's slow?"
The bartender shrugged before commenting, "Because it's a tuesday night, probably. Couldn't say."
The Synthetic sighed from her perch on the bar counter, her rear against a slab of clear plastic that wrapped around the serving area like a protective ring. Crossing one thigh over the other in the skin tight leggings she wore, Kae offered quietly, "People should still drink on a Tuesday, Marv." The issue wasn't worth pressing further than she had, and when a glare was issued in her general direction, the woman slipped off the bar to take a proper seat at a nearby table. At this rate, her tips were going to be shit. Perfect.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.