Amazingly enough, I was able to get the graphic done for this! My hubby has Photoshop on his laptop, so I’m set for today and tomorrow. I could have held it, but I made such a stink, I figured I should just update since I have it done.
homerunhero: OH CRAP I SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THIS SOONER
= missing connection =
homerunhero: RONIT IT’S ME IN CASE YOU COULDN’T GUESS
I’M SO AWESOME I JUST PATCHED INTO THE DROID’S SYSTEMS.
As she had not been instructed to let go of the “droid’s” hand, Ronit stood there clutching it. Her room was in shambles. The furniture was decimated, and her things–what remained of them–were everywhere. Bullet holes peppered the walls.
She was renting, for heaven’s sake. Her landlady would die looking at this mess.
With its hand in hers, the droid seemed almost like a person. An awkward person with glowing eyes and a blank expression. “Is this a boy or a girl?”
The droid answered, while text showed up over its chest. Its voice was the same one it had used to speak to her, and sounded nothing like the few times Ronit had spoken with Vivane over the phone. “Actually it’s totally up to you. General Whatshisname wanted an androgynous model that could be dressed up for the maximum number of roles. Better to spy with I guess?”
Ronit reached up to scratch her face, forgetting that she still held the droid’s hand. She let her arm drop again, releasing it at last. “Does the general believe in monsters?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t know if you do.”
“I believe in techno horrors. Now more than ever.”
“Monsters are not the same thing.”
“They wouldn’t be, would they?”
“Also, you don’t have to talk out loud. You can, if you like to, but really, synaptic messaging just acts like chat–you think of what you want to say, then decide to type it. The only difference is that you don’t have to actually type it.”
The droid smiled, and Ronit found herself thinking that it was like she had finally been able to meet Vivane in person. She stumbled over to her bed and tried to think of a good boy’s name.
While she was doing her best to answer Ronit’s questions, it was not the highest thing on Vivane’s list of priorities. She swung the bat at a pair of fuzzy, knobbled knees, wincing slightly at the sound of wood disturbing bone.
Her trench coat flapped in the merciless wind, slapping against her legs as she leapt backwards. She was so used to them being bare that the itchy, heavy feeling of denim was almost distracting.
But there were other things to occupy her mind.
The monster howled in pain, collapsing into the snow. Needle-like teeth sprouted from its head and grew into boney tentactles, like giant spider legs. It used these new teeth to pull itself towards her at a speed to fast to be called a crawl.
Vivane glanced up at the tree where the little bot had hidden itself. The black imp design of its casing stood out against the flaky white weather. She signalled to it, then hopped forward to bash the needle teeth-legs with her bat.
The wind swept up the snow so that it seemed that none of the flakes ever actually fell. They clung to Vivane’s face and hair like jealous fairies. The air was too cold to let them melt, even on her apple-red cheeks.
She dodged around as the monster sprouted another set of teeth. The bot took her place, and emitted a laser beam from its eyes.
Flames blossomed into view, licking up the monster’s coarse black hair.