Undead, Robots, and Conflict.... Oh My!

"A virus has severely decimated the human population. * for the sake of our Rp* there are two labs, who are kinda at war with one another, one thinks the Living dead is the route they need to take to bring back most of the human population, and the other thinks, Organic Andriods and cyborgs are the route to go. One lab is on the south side, the other on the north side, and for sake of argument Hells kitchen is in the middle"

-- Quote Wolf H Howling, 12-25-2016

* laughs and waits for the first post, so I know what I am doing, do you want to play all robots and i play all living dead, or we going to have a mix of character types, by the way Humans are not off limits, and lets say Robots/Cyborgs are ordered to kill and programmed to kill the living dead and vice versa, but the escapees might have a few, Glitches.. in their programming lol.. *

*Noted. I currently have one of each I am wanting to do mostly, and several more robot/cyborgs more as we go along....*

Deep in Hells Kitchen, a man moves through the shadowy allyway. Well, not a man so much as at least a cyborg. One of his arms up to his elbow is missing the synthetic skin, revealing intricate and strong mechanical workings. He pulls out a not too rusty screwdriver out of a trashcan and nods in approval. Yes, this would help imensely. Right size and everything. He pockets it and keeps moving through the shadows, trying to stay hidden. He walks with a small limp.

In the underbelly of the Living Dead lab, a man struggles against the leather staps tying him to the table, babbling nonsense and laughing like a psycho as various doctors and scientists try pumping medicine and chemicals into him.

A small wiff of a woman walks from ally to ally, her skin cold to the touch, and her breath barely stirring, hungry, she eyes a dinner, scared of what could happen, if she's caught, and scared if she's spied by some one who's not well human.

The man turns to see a woman walk into his allyway. He watches her with the emotionless gaze of a killer. He twitches some as his senses and programming tell him she wasn't human, and wasn't 'borg. He bares his teeth and growls softly. "Get outta here!" He tells her firmly.

She freezes, every mucle in her body tensing, as the shear looking of terror crosses her face, she turns, all most in a slow motion, trying to run, but manages, to just trip.

The man sighs and walks over stiffly. He reaches down and offers her a hand up. It's the same hand that is missing the synthetic skin. He knew what she was, and his programming was telling him to kill her. However, his humanity told him to spare her, and he was trying so hard to keep his humanity and regain what he may have lost.

She curled up into a small little ball, near the dumpster, fearful of the man not because of what he was, but because of what. Because of what she had been through, to get to this moment, she hid her head in fear of him. As if the outstretched hand would strike her, she wasn't like the other living dead, she wasn't like them entirely. She was slightly different, as the others had been completely dead, before given life, she had been barely dead.

The man sighed and closed his eyes. "I am not going to hurt you. If I was... I would have a while ago. Trust me." He opened his eyes again. "Although if you'd rather, I'll just go."

Her voice cracked " you're not going to take me back are you?" she said eyes pleading, as she dropped her arms still fearfull, dark bruises could be seen just around both wrists, and as her hair shifted, the side of her face.

His face darkened. "Back where? The freaks that created either you or me? No. Why on earth would I turn myself in too?" He let his hand drop now.

She looked at him not very trusting " promise." she said, and then her stomach growled, as she got up to stand, she saw the dinner guy, had left out a jar of pickles and wasn't looking, so forgetting the guy was there, she took off, and nabbed the jar, running to the oppisite side, of the dinner, back behind yet another dumpster to eat them.

The man shook his head and watched her from a short distance. He kept a lookout for others like him so they stayed clear, not that they wouldn't attack him on sight.... "Hey, Pickles. You got a roof over your head at night?" He asked the woman.

She looked at him " your not talking to the empty jar of pickles?" she said suddenly wonding if this guy was insane. " They called me Project left over or Plo." she said looking up at him " the pickles will have a roof, in this dumpster, as for me, no."

"I was calling you Pickles." He clarified. He started to walk away before he stopped and motioned for her to follow. "If you're not messy, you can stay in my shop." He offered.

She smiled " I like Pickles better." she said getting up to fallow " um." she said " what kinda shop?" he demeanour lighting up and a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"Parts." He said flatly. He walked in the direction of the shop he called home, sticking to the back alleys to avoid being seen. "It's an abandoned car shop I've claimed as a place to stay. Most of the tools had been picked clean when I got there, but I've found enough of the ones I need to get by."

Pickles smiled " I won't be any trouble I promise." she smiled " Do you eat?" she asked smiling wide " and what kind of parts, Robotic, micro sythetic fibrosis parts, Engeering K1pz7h though thats more of a chemical reaction than anythign and lay men call it synthetic skin, or maybe your an auto guy, slightly less fun but still fun." she said bitting her lip " or maybe you do gyro processers, and fibro snythetics, or are you a model f7 type fellow... then again you could be a human parts dealer, and then that would be creapy." she said.

The man watched her as they walked. It was a long moment before he answered. "S1. I was the first. The parts are more for me than anything. I can eat, but it's not necessary for me to function normally. Same with sleep."

Pickles bit her lip " Oh." she got very quiet walking for quite some time " That makes me mad, I don't remember why that makes me mad, but it does. The processes to turn a perfectly ok human into mostly machine, is in fact barbaric, just like peaceing me together from verious people was, to the point ware I don't even know who or what I really am." she said " though my brain is mostly one person so thats nice."

The man didn't say anything for the rest of the walk back to the shop. He opened one of the garage like doors once they got there. "Never use the actual doors." He instructed her. "I have them all rigged with traps based on a springlock mechanism based on the door opening."

Pickles smiled " Ok." she looked around once she got under the door, " hmm, needs tiding," she said at the oil cans every which way, " and you know your missing the left 45 bolt in your leg."

"Yeah, I know, and yeah, I know that's what's making me limp." He said with slight irritation. "Unfortunately, those suckers aren't easy to come by on the streets, and I lack the tools to make a replacement that'll work." He moved to a toolbox and put his new screwdriver neatly inside.

Pickles giggled " It can be replaced with a bolt that holds the steering wheel in place in an old Buick." she tapped her nose " but if you have slightly upgraded parts from the original, than you want any tire bolt from a ford."

"I haven't seen any old Buicks." He said. "At least not since that bolt came loose." He stood and started to rummage around for something.