Ongoing PSL - In-game setting

[itshilarious]

"You say that you're no good for me, cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve--"

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[itshilarious]

[ Once, it was just the machines they had to worry about. An objective that brought a sense of accomplishment when knowing it was all towards reclaiming the surface for humans. Now? Now, it seems as if it was all for nothing. Now they've discovered they were living a lie, and now? They still have to worry about machines, plus YoRHa androids who still blindly follow.

2B leaves him to his work, leaves him in a silence that is both calming and damning all the same. 9S initially finds no pleasure in prying his own kind open for the sake of harvesting parts. The concept seems so vulgar and wrong at first glance, but in recalling their lies and what this all has done to himself and his beloved 2B? It angers him.

As 9S yanks the mechanical heart of their pursuer, the crack and wet splatter of vitals seems so... Satisfying. As if karma has delivered itself upon them and 9S is merely the messenger. As if this god the humans so eagerly looked to has tasked him with this mission of survival and bringing retribution. As he passes through each android, it's almost like he passionately gets into it and digs deeper each time. Before long, 9S is covered in vitals, red fluid soaking his arms and splattering a picture on his face. With a heavy sigh, he packs everything away, finally standing. There's a silence that takes him while he stares along the line of dead androids. 9S licks his lips as he stares at his hands, just before unceremoniously wiping them along his pants. ]

We're done here.

[podskill]

[ 2B notes the way 9S moves, methodical as ever. His actions are precise, though there's an edge of ruthlessness to them. Though she knows it's likely due to her wiring, seeing the carnage he visits upon the bodies of the androids thrills her as much as it dismays her, and she wonders why it even does the latter. These were newer models, formulated just for their kill or capture. 2B should, by all means, be unaffected by his ripping them apart.

But she isn't. She wants to reach out and grip his shoulder, to stop him; this doesn't feel like the 9S she knows, and while her treacherous, android mind relishes in the display of violence, some stranger, louder part of her wants to stop him. To continue to keep him safe and soft.

2B stays her hand in favor of allowing him to work, knowing it won't do her much good. This is the path that she'd forced the both of them on. She watches as he packs the harvested components into his bag and simply inclines her head, saying nothing as she leads the both of them out of the tunnel.

She stays a few paces ahead of him, leading them towards a dilapidated building flush against the coast. While part of the wall facing the ocean has collapsed, a small area about a story above the water provides an adequate space to set up camp. The sky is dark, the sun shooting streaks of pale yellow through the greying clouds and providing adequate light as she walks into the space, ensuring that they are alone before she turns to face him. ]

It isn't much, but it'll do for a while. YoRHa will be coming around eventually, but I imagine it'll take them some time to recoup.

[ With little fanfare, 2B begins to move piles of rubble about in order to carve a space out for the both of them to comfortably settle. ]

[itshilarious]

[ It seems like with each passing second, he starts to feel more and more numb. To all of this. His memories come back in waves. 9S realizes that everything he's missed has slowly uploaded over time. Indicative of how many times he's been reformatted and killed. That resentment flows through in his treatment of the bodies beneath him. 9S turns their back and follows 2B as if he'd simply shopped at a store. Nothing more, nothing less.

They would have died anyway.

He doesn't say a word the entire trek to camp. And he doesn't say a word when they set it up. The blood that coats his arms and clothing smells foul, like thick oil. It sticks to his shirt and makes his mock flesh feel slimy and disgusting. And so he pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it to the ground. He sighs and rolls his head back, as if to relieve tension that isn't there. Androids seize, but they don't cramp. ]

They'll see what we did. The Commander won't want to send anyone else down until they're stronger and incapable of being hacked. Or torn apart.

Doesn't matter. I'm the most adaptable S-model. Nothing will work unless they build something better.

[ He did, after all, build that back door. They know what they're dealing with. ]