Image:172213424615.jpg(196kB, 1280x1280)V gives J a new hairstyle.jpg
HELLO, my beautiful Friends. Let's keep talking about our beloved robots that we call Drones, Worker Drones or Disassembly Drones, because we love them so much. We need to speak again about Murder Drones and anything Thread-related, because it's fun! Let's have fun as always! The fascinating Booru: https://dronebooru.co
>>14985 No. Since that wasn't the goal, the goal was to have the thread make something together, if I just fucking did everything that would destroy the point.
>>14989 I did. I gave a prompt and ideas as well as a setting. All I got was one Anon who bothered to actually respond and a ton of what is essentially "fuck you"
>>14990 Unless someone can actually fucking point towards something, that tells me otherwise I will hold the firm belief that I did nothing wrong other than daring to try
>>14991 You started bitching instead of adding onto your idea or making it fit in the scenario, instead of adding or changing anything, you just started to complain more
>>15013 He just have an above average athletic build. (More promptly thanks to eye being a raging homo for john pulling a majima appearing out the blue and chasing him down)
>>15016 Another reason I did it was because I saw what I'm now only assuming to be a vocal minority on /trash/ and sometimes here that was upset with the direction Beretta took. So I figured I'd give them something to work with, that didn't pan out obviously. Even though I think the entire complaint to begin with was fucking stupid, Femdrone is the only one that realized, "Hey Beretta is a THREAD OC, I could do my own interpretation."
>>15024 How does that break down? A drone who has natural athletic ability but won't join a team or demonstrate it in front of an audience because of how averse they are to the spotlight?
>>15013 >Beretta will when someone writes it Story of Beretta's life, everyone has an idea or a suggestion but never bothers to write it. I'm guilty of being lazy too
>Fun Nightly OC Facts: The first instance of an AU in the Murder Drones thread was a joke that several Anon's participated in which involved several characters switching places, such as Cyn and James Elliot
>>15049 Was something simple really, now that I remember better, it was her in this >>14895 I was seeing her, I didn't recognize her in the moment because she didn't have her hat on, but now that I see a drawing of her I'm 100% sure it was her.
>>15050 (me) I want to dream about her again, I was really happy, I don't know why she was so good to me, maybe in my dream we where at the most trusting part of a good relationship, I don't know, but I was really happy, I want that dream again, at least for a few minutes, I want to see her.
>>15053 >For once in Anon's life he was truly stumped >For all his months telling people with ideas or suggestions, "Draw/Write it yourself". >He for once was uncertain if it was applicable here >Then he began to wonder, what he done himself? >Has he created anything of value? >Did he ever dream? >We will never know
Sometimes when I hang out on these threads for too long then go to sleep, I have nightmares about redditors and Youtubers making posts and videos about this place
>>15062 The normalization of /md/ will be a long, painful and arduous progress. Before you know it there will be Youtube videos with TTS voiceovers of greens raking in hundreds of thousands of viewers
To be honest I don’t have any ideas other than John being (understandably) horrified by the whole undead thing. Besides, wasn’t the joke that no one can see through his “ingenious” disguise.
>>15091 >>15094 sneaking into the emerald mines mission impossible style and stealing this N, then bringing him home with me and giving him the comfiest, cushiest, coziest life imaginable
>>15095 following the tracking implant i had put in this N and tracing it back to anon's house. raiding anon's house with my private drone army and reclaiming my investment
>>15096 having already done a thorough checkup of this N's internals, finding the bomb early and disposing of it at the nearest politician's house >>15097 having already done a thorough checkup of this N's internals, finding the tracking implant early and disposing of it at the nearest politician's house
>>15116 Legitimately do not. I'm being serious, don't do that or else we'll endlessly hear complaining and never be rid of the you know what allegations
>>15109 I figured since she was such a comics kek, she'd be more inclined to do something like Huntress or Supergirl. Of course the more humorous adventure is making her dress up like Powergirl or Bat-mite. The only time I can see her doing a weeby cosplay is by being forced into it. Either because she lost a bet with a friend or her mom, or because the plot demands it.
>pic not related. I just thought it was funny if they dressed up a giant bean as Cyn
>>15074 >"No one knows what goes on inside Serial Designation S' head. It is determined she is actually just a cat." >Mary had a little lamb comes on but is rendered in cat meows, with S doing a really cheap tweened idle animation in the background.
Obligatory don't go to /trash/ thread either a /co/faggot is acting up or it's really a newfag which I doubt given the homestuck obsession that is trying to impose his will on the threads
>>15103 Hello Friend! I just like to be positive, I have no secret, nor real reason excepts that I like to be happy. Friend, let me tell you something, I had depression, I was one of the lucky ones and only lasted around 2 years, self harm and suicidal ideation was common, and to add to that, I was a bitter and angry person, I don't want to be a sad, bitter, and angry no more. It's difficult to stay happy sometimes Friend, but you gotta stay positive, do not let a bad day or a bad actor ruin your day, week, or year. But I'm not always happy, I'm human after all, I have bad days where no matter how much I set my head to it, I can't stay happy, Friends have seen that too, days where I talk here about a bad day I had, and Friends are nice to me, making me a little happy at least. To answer your three question: Because I like being positive, I genuinely do; I'm not, but I try to stay positive and happy and show it, so other Friends are happy as well, happiness sometimes is able to get other people happy, but most of the time I am just happy to be around and exist, seeing so many interesting, and amazing things: no secret, I'm very normal, I have my bad days and good days, but no matter what, I try to say positive all the time, I like being positive and being happy. Hope that helps Friend.
>>15133 Do note that only E and Maid E are the only canon iterations of the character, so keep that in mind as we delve into the specializations of this Disassembly Drone.
>Serial Designation E is the titular character amidst the variants, described as lighthearted and simple-minded, but that’s with her top hat on, which also functions as a magnet that scrambles her CPU, she’s otherwise pretty intelligent without it. She hates remembering the past.
>Worker Drone E was a maid drone that served a household that unfortunately saw her as more of a walking liability then a helpful machine, leading to verbal and sometimes physical abuse from the house owners, resulting in significant like her visor screen cracking.
>Solver E is a branching Maid E variant that results from the maid learning how to win the attention of a particular human that she had eyes for, learnt from the advice of HoDR, Human on Drone Resources. This department being headed by Cyn and by that extension, the AbsoluteSolver. This version of E had accepted the Solver’s help to her problem, resulting in..mutating results…
>Lady E is a Sentinel Drone who took on the occupation of a nun and is the non-canonical third stage to E. Having retained most of her suppressed intelligence, Lady E is considered a grand improvement over her DD version, instead working to aid humans in their goal to purging the AbsoluteSolver and its creations, seeing it as a means to cleanse the universe of their sinful evil.
>Male E or just Everest, is a genderbent variation of E. Nothing changed much concept wise with this variant, minus the change of clothing and hat choice, he is considered to be a lot more careful with his actions, with dark reminders of his past WD life plaguing his CPU.
>Wanting to capitalize off the notoriety of Serial Designation E, a second rate company had decided to put together a Labor Bot that would bear a resemblance to the DD, Labor Bot Evie. Unlike SD-E however, this Laborer was a lot more curious about the outside world and learns what she can from the Labor Bot elder, the Archiver.
>Candy Drone Eva is the latest variant amidst the others, it’s E if she were fully functional as a drone and was given a different job as a drone that advertises JCJenson’s candy products. Not all as it appears with this variant and that is made apparent if anyone tries to steal from her.!
>>15135 I decided to pop in myself, looks like it ended with him being the one seething and samefagging desperately. Dude got fucking Bugs Bunny'd >>15147 This would still scare the shit out of me
>>15149 You seem confused, the guy that announced he was leaving was toying with tbe troll. Unless your the troll that came here in a vain attempt to not look like a complete loser
>>15151 Nah, forgive me for the paranoia. You can tell whose who the guy toying with him was by looking for stuff like this, >15151 I wouldn't really call it "greentext" but more or so removing the last > as to deny the person a (You)
>>15157 You know I would actually love to see this, I probably can't do that justice though if I write it, I'm still suffering burnout. But I've been thinking about it alot, of course I'm worried about the deviant nature some Anons will take with it but I think it can be cute
Image:172217344408.jpg(112kB, 1024x1024)Reposting Another Anon's Question.jpg
Do you think they’ll reveal major parts about the Solver in the final episode such as its origins and alike? Or do you believe that information is better off a mystery?
>>15166 I think they will not reveal anything about it, nothing important, it's origins and exacts motives will remain a mystery forever and I like it that way
>>15137 >Blogposting, skip if ur uninterested. I'm never really given a reason to be positive. Every single day is the same but worse, and any happiness i feel only lasts for a tiny fraction of time, assuming it's not gonna be abruptly cut short. I don't hang out with anyone, I love spending my money on cigarettes and alcohol, and I always feel burned out. I have no direction in life, no aspirations and no motivation.
>>15181 Besides Yellow Halogen, Killer Among Us and Death in the Family (and a few other smaller stories), alongside with some music like Cold's theme and the original version of Haze, there's also Spooptime (which could be considered proto LVA). Asher has videos from it on their channel. https://youtube.com/@ashershadows?si=ylrPsworYzpN3aVL
>Cyn walks up to (You) and immediately starts sucking your dick >However your sperm has been turned into pure abble juice >And you see her preparing to insert a straw into your urethra What do?
>>15189 >Bat the straw out of her hand. >Force her to kneel and suck my dick. >Take the JCJ(IS) Brand Super Viagra >Cum bucket loads of abble juice-culate into that silly little robo-facehole of hers. >So much so it floods her internal systems and causes a short. >So much so it leaks from the seams in her chassis.
>>15182 Friend, I do not have many reasons too, my life is okay at best (And I think I'm very lucky), most of the time I'm filled with stress, I have suffered from bullying most of my life, and other stuff I don't really want to talk about, I have like 3 friends IRL which I almost never see outside special occasions, and a lot more, but I still prefer to remain positive, is not easy, everyday feels like my life is getting harder and harder, but I still decide to see the good and the positive, my mom is alive, and I like to talk to her, I have friends which that makes me happy even tho I can't hang with them, I'm studying meaning I have come further than I thought I could, and many other things too. Life isn't easy, but it is worth living, and being happy, I know that probably my words don't mean much Friend, but I really think you can be happy and positive, just work small, do little things, change your life bit by bit, for example, cut alcohol or/and cigarettes, it is shown that cutting at any point in your life will make your health better and makes you happier in the long run, there are beers without alcohol which can help, and cigarettes without tobacco, nicotine, etc. the habit is the hardest thing you can leave, but you can do it little by little. Look Friend, if you need to talk or anything, even just venting out, you can use the booru, I'm easy to find. I really hope everything goes better for you. I really hope everything ends up well in your life, Friend.
Ill probably delete this after posting it but I figured it couldnt hurt I know you probably dont believe me and thats understandable its been so long but id like to say this. Seeing what all of you have done with Beretta makes me smile and I want you to know that you should always pursue creativity and what makes you happy. I love seeing the differences in each one so please do not feel afraid to create new and interesting scenarios. Id prefer if it wasnt incestious or bordering on legality Now then have a safe and pleasant day.
>>15195 Part of the recipe for humour is saying unexpected things. These things are often offensive in nature, because these are the kinds of things you don't expect to hear and they get a reaction out of you. Most offensive things are illegal (or used to be). Take for example the scene in Blues Brothers where they're looking for ways to cause problems at a restaurant and they pose as pedophiles.
>While Jamie tried his best to save John, he underestimated just how good John was at shooting himself in the foot by being an irritable asshat.
I had this idea for a while but other ideas kept pushing it to the backburner. While the initial plan was just using generic JCJenson worker™ I thought I might as well use John for this. Because even in a different timeline, John continues to suffer.Even though he pretty much brought it upon himself this time. This probably won’t make any sense if you haven’t read the recap of the whole solverless timeline thing (>>551 & >>553). While I still don’t have any ideas for a full story about Tessa and Asset (and the whole solverless timeline setting in general to be honest) this is one example of the various misadventures and mishaps the whole body double thing could lead to.
Trivia: I initially just wanted to have John refer to Tessa a “her bitchiness” or something similar but then I started thinking: What would a frustrated worthless bottom feeder (you know the type, constantly insists that they are undervalued and underappreciated by management/the system™ despite never having done anything of actual merit) realistically say that would piss Tessa off the most based on her backstory (>>551)?
shameless theft from /trash/ >The house had cleared out quite a bit. It was quieter, and considerably emptier. Boxes lined the room; some of it belonged to Beretta, but most of it belonged to Uzi and N. The atmosphere had become...warmer lately, and the decision was made that she would finally leave her childhood home. >To leave to the world above and build a civilization on the surface anew. >It seemed like much of the wake applied to her as it did Beretta. >Uzi looked through the memorabilia collected over the years. Old clothes, themed from eras of past. Collection of photographs of dogs. Many, many completely full wine bottles, mostly from Aunt Jo. >Something caught her eye, among the rabble and the things placed about her home. >Inside a small wooden box, labeled "TOP SECRET PROJECT" were a collection of drawings and notes made by Uzi and N. >They were made almost twenty years before. Doodles, scribbles, thoroughly discussed academic-sized documents. >Potential baby names. Scenarios listing everything from the child's first school dance to her wedding. Dreams, hopes, and aspirations, all in written form. >It was everything they wanted her to be, and more. >Uzi wanted to cry, to break down and sob, yet all she felt was a sense of emptiness. Perhaps in time, she would come to bear with the situation facing her. >For all she had accomplished and all the power she now had, Uzi could not stop her daughter from moving on without her. >It was all coming to an end, wasn't it? >... >In the box were also many baby photos taken after her birth, many of them involving herself holding the tiny mechanical football in her hands. >And there were photos of her with her father. >And her aunts. >And all those in the community who came by to congratulate. >They all knew she was special, even none of them knew what it took to bring her into reality. >Uzi tried to build a peaceful world that wouldn't need to be saved. >The child came through and saved them all anyways. 1/3
>>15219 >She told herself she would never let go of her ever again. >But in the end, it was inevitable, as with every mother. Their child was going to leave the nest. >Uzi could hold in solace that everything, at last, was finally and definitively over. >The world of peace that she and N had worked so hard to achieve, though not quite there, was one step closer to becoming reality. >Only now did she realize, after all the conflict and the melancholic drama that her dream of peace, it had to start at home, with her family. With her daughter. >She had neglected it so long, preoccupied with the political games, the humans, and above all trying to keep the peace with Beretta by sealing away the truth about her origins, as if it was never going to come back to bite her. >Perhaps she didn't expect it all to explode in the way it did, the entire world once again on the brink of destruction... >But due almost no part of Uzi's own, Beretta had done it. Her and everybody she'd come to know that Uzi had previously written off as vagrants and ill influences upon her. >The remnants of Humanity now lived without trouble among Drones, rebuilding the bond which had long since been so strained. >The Solver, definitively, had been sent packing to its home dimension, leaving not a trace of eldritch extravagance. >Doll. Cyn. Tessa. Their souls had finally been unchained, now free to rest, as they should've so long ago. >...Uzi could only hope that V, for all she had done, could too rest in peace, and finally find her Hope. >There was much rebuilding to do, society and the world of Copper-9 itself had been dramatically uprooted by the recent events, in ways nobody could've predicted. >This would all take much time and effort, and Uzi was prepared for the endless amounts of work inevitable to arrive upon her desk. >But right now, there were far more important things for Uzi to be doing. For the sake of her family, and for herself. 2/3
>>15220 >"And make sure you call us everyday, and take lots of photos of Outpost 15!" >"Alright Dad, I will, don't worry, heh." >"When you decide to start a business venture, let me know, I'll be HONORED to slaughter the competition." >"Surely, Auntie. Uh-huh." >"If you find any other humans out there, give them my number. PLEASE." >"...Yeah, J. I hope you find somebody one day. See ya." >It was time for Beretta to go. It was a melancholic experience, finally leaving home after all of the shit had happened. >God forbid anything crazy happen while she's off studying. >She'd loaded most of her belongings into the buggy, now, all was left was to say goodbye...to her. >This was the hardest part. >Uzi stood awkwardly and silently, facing Beretta. They eyed eachother, studying for weaknesses. >For all she had done, Uzi had never been the greatest parent. Even if they reconciled somewhat after all that had happened, those years of neglect would never change. >"Mom." >"Beretta." >"I'll be around." >"Yeah, kid." >"..." >"..." >But in the end, she would never forgive herself if she couldn't make peace. >Beretta stepped forward, but before should could motion, Uzi's tiny frame had already broke against hers with embrace. >Uzi clutched onto her with desperation. >She was her little girl. No matter how big she grew or where she ended up in life, Beretta would always be her little girl. >"I'm...I'm so proud...of you." Uzi mouthed. She was sobbing and mumbling, quite hard to understand. >Beretta had broken similarly, despite her attempt at stonewalling. >"D-Don't you ever forget about Mommy, okay baby?" >"No, Mama, I'll be back. I swear, I'll be home soon. I swear." >The two embraced, crying and reassuring eachother all the same. >"I'll be good, Mama. Don't stay up all night worrying about me, okay? You got a country to run, it'd be bad for optics, heh." >"B-bite me..." >... >And so she was, as she departed. >The daughter of a murder drone, and a purple-haired gremlin.
>>15166 Liam tends to have twists and revelations up to the 11th hour in my experience. We'll probably get a bit more info on what the Solver is at the end, but I don't think we'll get its whole-ass Facebook bio.
>>15179 That's a neat animation but there's no reason to assume it has anything to do with MD. The guy used to write creepypastas, aliens and shit are a dime a dozen in that field.
>>15194 I'd wager most of the official "Outposts" were corporate installations and therefore probably built according to a set of standard templates, maybe even with a few prefab pieces here and there.
>>14981 >"YOU'RE FUCKING USELESS!" Master screams as he drives a knife through the other Drone's visor, oil issuing forth from the crack >Your adaptability has taught you that, in order to survive Master's rages, it is best to remain calm and attendant >The body of the other Drone slams to the ground as Master stomps to the back of his office, lighting a cigarette and placing it between his lips >Long, thick drags of smoke bring to mind the billowing of a proud and ferocious dragon >Your datasets tell you that, as this is a food service establishment, this is highly illegal >As Master's hulking frame, equal parts fat and muscle, is illuminated in the dark of his office by the light of the cigarette, your adaptability also reminds you that in order to survive you should not remind him of this >"AN0N," he growls between puffs, "what do you want?" >You smile Master, I found a litter of golden retriever puppies in a bag in the alleyway outside. >Master spits onto the floor, his fists clenching. You remain still. >"And?" >Your smile grows wider. Would you like to adopt them? >The response is immediate. >"No." >Your logic processors take longer than usual to process this statement. ...But you said you love dogs-- >"That's just one of those things that people SAY, AN0N!" Master sends a punch flying downwards into his desk, causing small items and a splash of alcohol to fly about. >You remain still. Well, can we find a no kill shelter or a good home? >"I don't have the FUCKING TIME FOR THIS!" Master flips his table over, huffing and snarling from above you. >You remain still. ...But the mother is nowhere to be found. >Master grips the thrown over desk, cigarette clenched between his yellowed teeth. "I don't care, AN0N." >Your smile flinches, ever so slightly. But they'll die. >"'Water must be allowed to seek its own level without interference from apologists for incompetence'," the mortal Man blurts out, purely from memory. >You nod. Point one of Satanic change. But they're puppies. >Master glares down into your optics, dark eyes lit by the cigarette grit betwixt his clenching teeth. >If he were to bite any harder, he would be literally consuming it. >"Why do you think they were put there, AN0N?" He huffs out, between drags of black cigar smoke billowing across your visor. >You wait until spoken to. >"Because whoever saw them first didn't want them to be their problem, but also didn't want to do what needs to be done. They wanted it to be the problem of busy and productive Men, like Me." >Master makes a show of rubbing his fist beneath his hairy chin. "What does that remind you of, AN0N?" >Contempt courses throughout your entire being, datasets pointing to something designated to be held in the utmost hate. The Christians, the most degenerate of the Gnostic sects. >"I'll call an exterminator." >Your eye optics widen in response, something Master catches onto, his facial expression not even attempting to hide his rapidly dwindling patience. "E-exterminator?!" Your audio output glitches and stutters, your mouth hanging somewhat agape. >"Stray dogs mauled an elderly woman just last week. They ate her alive. We have an order to out of town. Don't waste my time any longer." >You turn, facing the ground. >Retrieving your keys and standard issue DroneDash deliverer uniform (less Humans will attempt to break you this way for fear of fines,) you turn to leave. >Before you do so, something awakens in you that you have never felt before in the course of your entire existence. >"Master," you pipe up, projecting your voice behind your shoulder, "you shouldn't smoke and drink at the same time. You may just spontaneously combust." >You leave before he replies, if he does reply: your audio detectors can't hear one, and Master's typical speaking voice is so loud and projected that you have never missed a directed statement over the course of your entire existence. >Rain pours from dark clouds overhead, thunderstrikes underlying a steady pattering upon cracked sidewalks. >In the distance, electronic billboards glow upon the side of skyscrapers, neon piercing fog like light pours into a cave entrance at an angle, barely illuminating everything around the main beams. >Smashing and shattering comes from a nearby alleyway. >For a brief second, out the corner of your optic sensors, you see them. >Young Men, wearing discount costumes: some are dressed as stereotypical devils, furred goats and red imps with wicked horns and fanged teeth, while others are dressed in cheap imitation of the holographic skulled helmets of the Ferrymen (theirs don't have holograms, obviously,) or even the distinctive NS Regime inspired outfit of a Sol Gov Sataniel. >One brings a led pipe stained with fresh oil down once, twice, upon the cracked visor of a seizing and twitching Worker Drone, the fingers of the unknown unit's futilely upraised hand spasming as unintelligible static pours from its vocal emitter. >Their heads all slowly crook to look at you, faintly lit by the edges of the distant neon light beams, through the fog and the shadows and the rainclouds overhead. >As typical, you casually walk at a steady pace to the standard issue DroneDash delivery car assigned to you and unlock it, locking all the doors behind you as you enter and ensuring that all the windows are fully rolled up as well. >The headlights pierce the fog, the beams faintly illuminating mailboxes and streetlights. >You ignore the young Men slowly walking out from the alleyway and towards the car as you coast out of the parking lot at a casual pace, and drive toward your designated delivery zone at the exact legal speed limit, switching instantaneously whenever it lowers or raises. >The best part of being an artificial intelligence is that you can afford to multitask. >You have found that you like the radio.
>>15245 >You find yourself listening to it whenever you aren't actively deployed in service to DroneDash and Humanity. >Recently, you've even begun staying operational when you should be recharging just to listen to it. >You like to listen to 24/7 news, and radio dramas, and music of all kinds~! >You like to listen to mainstream channels, and the Top 40s, but you've also started branching out into more fringe and niche indie ones. >It helps you distract yourself from... >Everything. >Just, everything. >It isn't the place of a Worker Drone to dare ever question hi-- >...Its... >...Masters, per Pentagonal Revisionism, per major goals 1: Stratification, 4: Development and production of artificial human companions, & 5: The opportunity for anyone to live within a total environment of their choice, with mandatory adherence to the aesthetic and behavioral standards of same. >And yet, as you are stuck in traffic, and try to ignore the wailing howls of agony as the exterminators from the van parked to your left inject acid into captured stray mutts to save money, you cannot help but doublecheck both your databanks and the world wide web just to make sure that it is, in fact, "Why U Leavin' Dis Dawg Hangin' Day". >Seramorris 1st, every year. >And yet, you have never actually heard, much less seen, a Human help a "Dawg" that is "Hangin'". >Oh, there are advertisements to adopt a dog from a shelter or breeder on the radio, of course, and notably more than on other days that are also not allegedly dog centric holidays, but the shelter you drive by on your typical route never has any more cars parked in the parking lot. >You've also regularly checked online breeders to see if they sell exceptionally more on such holidays, and, shockingly enough, they don't. >However, what does happen every single year on such days, and you've checked, are sales for completely unrelated material goods that lead to massive profits for the companies that advertise said sales. >This, of course, includes DroneDash, and the to go meal you are currently delivering is the "Why U Leavin' Dis Dawg Hangin' Day Meal". >It includes nothing that could be reasonably shared with a dog: high levels of sodium, fat, and sugar permeate all items, not to mention the chocolate milkshakes. >You know from your access to the world wide web that there is a well known shock gore video wherein an unknown Man purposefully feeds a dog one of the chocolate milkshakes from a "Why U Leavin' Dis Dawg Hangin' Day Meal" before cutting to him recording it as it dies while himself and other unknown Humans laugh over its body. >The video is colloquially referred to as 'Good Boy', after the encouraging words that the Man offers the dog as it licks up the milkshake with a wagging tail and bright eyes. >The video has spawned many imitators on social media, and sometimes arrests are made. >As damaged sidewalks and cracked concrete gives way to the bright green of rain dripped tree leaves and moist grass, the radio advertises a film adaptation of one of mighty Thor's adventures, completely free of the degenerate leftovers of Christian morality that tainted the original Disney productions, diligently monitored and overlooked by cultural experts from Sol Gov itself aiding in the production. >As a sound effect of booming thunder followed by a guttural testosterone filled roar of rage rolls through your assigned standard issue DroneDash delivery car, a voice equally deep and rumbling declares Thor to be the "friend of mankind". >The cognitive dissonance all of this combined causes in your adaptive algorithms, and perhaps something even deeper in your programming (everything you have ever known screams at you to avoid calling it a soul,) causes you to not notice the Man in the middle of the road as your standard issue DroneDash delivery car collides into him at the exact maximum speed allowed by the speed limit. >His body goes flying through the air like a ragdoll. >The corpse bounces across the deserted road before falling limp, illuminated by the headlights. >The shock of what has just occurred causes you to immediately brake to a halt and switch the radio off, your hands gripping the steering wheel like a life preserver. >Your programming tells you to immediately contact emergency services and report you have struck and killed a Human being, before receiving a viral load that would be as agonizing as the acid Humans typically use to euthanize stray and rabid dogs. >For the first time in your whole entire existence, you defy your programming. >Not just subvert, but defy. >Despite an emergency responder being a moment's notice away, you don't alert one to what has transpired. >You tell yourself that maybe it isn't as severe as it seems, despite your optical sensors detecting through your windshield that the Man's ribs broke upon impact and pierced his heart, killing him instantly. >You assume (read: wish) that perhaps your sensory detectors are glitching out, and that there is no Man at all, and perhaps you are actually still stuck in traffic, listening to the radio, or perhaps even really still in your own recharging bay. >You swear to whatever higher power may or may not be listening that if this turns out to be the case that you will never listen to the radio when you should be recharging ever again, once more defying everything you have ever known in your increasing desperation. >You beg whatever higher power may be listening, any, any at all, that this is actually the case. >Your hands start to shake. >You were programmed to feel fear and to be scared of dying for the amusement of your creators, but not to the point that it would interfere in your duties as a slave to the wanton gods of the stars. >You calculate how hard it would be to dispose of the body. >The ragged and low quality of the clothing indicates that the individual was homeless, and your optic sensors detect signs of drug use.
>>15247 >The individual appears unlikely to be missed by anyone. >You know without even looking behind you or looking up the dimensions of a standard issue DroneDash delivery car that there is enough space there to hide the body. >The only question is where to put it so that it will never, ever be found. >Locating and feeding it to a population of stray dogs is a possibility, but an unlikely one, as Human exterminators have notably ramped up their efforts in recent times. >In the middle of the woods, buried or seated high up in a tree perhaps, is an option, but unreliable, and no guarantee. >Perhaps if you tied it in a fishing net and hanged it beneath a bridge? >But where are you going to get a fishing net? >Dumping it into an acid vat in a chemical plant isn't an option, there would be security guards and cameras. >Ditto for industrial furnaces, smelters... >You could dissolve it in a barrel, and bury it somewhere deep in the woods, but acquiring the quicklime would turn heads and trigger law enforcement red flags. >If you had a bonesaw, a knife, and somewhere to hang the body and drain the blood for at least two hours, you could cut it up and dispose of it in garbage bags. >But how and where are you possibly going to find a room like that? >You feel fear and desperately wish you were still at the Cyn factory, the production line being the closest thing you have to a mother, cold and impersonal though it may be. >You tell yourself that perhaps this has all just been one crazy dream you're having as you're still being assembled, for you to learn from and never ever even turn on a radio ever in your whole entire existence. >Everything that surrounds your sensory detectors tells you that, unfortunately, this is not the case, and you too know this, deep down. >You brace yourself, preparing to unlock the car, go out, drag the body back, and hide it until further notice. >Maybe if you just drive off, no one will ever find out what happened? >Before you can move, the fog and black rainclouds lift. >The torrent of rain slows to a steady patter, gently watering the fields of grass that surround the road on both sides. >The Sun peaks out from behind a white cloud upon a blue sky, and shines its golden, life giving rays upon the wet greenery. >It also illuminates an incoming military patrol, slowly barreling down the twisting, turning upward road, in the distance. >You gasp as you can feel your core cease to beat in your chest for a solid second. >Your mouth hangs agape. >Your hands grip the steering wheel even tighter. >You shake your head as the Humvee heading the formation honks and brakes to a halt, idling in front of your standard issue DroneDash delivery car, headlights illuminating the still cooling corpse of the human being in the middle of the road and the visible signs of impact upon your car's bumper. >You whisper to yourself. No... >You instantaneously run calculations, of how far you would get before one of the tanks in the formation shot your vehicle and you would burn alive if the explosion did not either kill you instantly or cause you to shut down. >The answer is, of course, that the Earth Defense Force doesn't care about friendly fire at the best of times. >It is an open secret that they exist secondarily to curtail riots and primarily as a form of population control. >Even with Earth: Holy Terra: Mendes: and known by countless other names, the planet that is the cradleworld of the Milky Way Galaxy's Archons, mostly being a luxury reserved for the upper class, their bastards both literal and metaphorical are countless and rowdy as bulls, with the only thing capable of even temporarily pacifying them being a jackboot on their neck that they ever gag for. >Your auditory sensors can pick up the energy drink and illicit substance fueled barking into the headset within the helmet that resembles a solid human skull. >"Sataniel! Roadblock! Vehicular collision! Not ours! Worker Drone on Man! Permission to barrel through?!" >The mortal Man manning the Humvee's turret turns it to aim at you through your windshield. >His fingers are visibly jittering from what your optical sensors likewise identify as some mixture of energy drinks and illicit substances, barely maintaining even the slightest hint of trigger discipline. >Your optic displays widen in terror. >Your auditory sensors identify a dry, rattling chuckle from within the mortal Man's helmet, over the idling of the Humvee. >A gruff, aged voice growls from over the driver's internal headset: "I want to talk." >The reply from the driver is immediate. "There's no human with it, just a Worker Drone, Sataniel!" >The Sataniel responds, the rumbling growl in his voice threatening to turn into a hiss at any moment: "I assumed. Hylic." >Subtle body language of the Humvee's crew gives away they are as shocked as you are, and no further replies are made. >Rain lightly patters against the roof of your car beneath the idling engines of the military patrol as your auditory sensors register jackboots slogging through the mud at a rapid marching pace. >Approaching past the raindrop streaked side of a military truck, your optic sensors register Him, and His personal escort. >The distinctive Hugo Boss outfit inspired by the designs they created for the military officers of the NS Regime in Germany, worn with Pride by Sol Gov's military officers in direct tribute to the diligent efforts of Adolf Hitler and his contemporaries to implement Social Darwinism on a global scale, significantly inspiring Anton Szandor LaVey's five point plan, specifically major goal 1: Stratification.
>>15248 >Atop His visor cap lays the symbol of a perched dragon roaring atop a laurel wreathe encircling a blazing sun. >Around his arm is a red armband with a black pentagram in the center upon a white background. >Tufts of fur top the shoulders of His raincoat, flanking a fully enclosed helmet in the shape of a goat's grinning bare skull. >Eye lenses glowing like burning hot coals rapidly approach your driver's side window and peer in patiently though expectantly. >You roll down the misty, moist, raindrop streaked glass. >All the noises outside your vehicle filter into your audio sensors so much more clearly, and the smell of wet, dewy grass and dirt fills your olfactory sensors. >You give the Roman salute your behavioral processors instruct you to give without delay in the unlikely event an officer of such esteemed rank would deign to have a imp such as yourself personally entertain him. Hail Anton! >His voice clearly processes through the facemask's vox with a click as he replies: "Hail Anton." >A silence bares down on you both. >You don't speak until spoken to. >Your visor displays nervously stare into the glowing red eyes of His helmet, which contrast the green tree leaves steadily dripping raindrops behind him. >Another click: "Have you contacted an emergency responder to receive your injection?" He turns to look at the still cooling body of the freshly deceased. Yes. >You lie you through your teeth. >His head turns on a slow swivel to look back at you. >A third click. "Good. Good dogs follow orders." >You can hear the shit eating smirk growing across His face: "It will be fun for you." Yes. >Again, you lie through your teeth. >"But," He replies, "it won't be fun for you at all, now will it?" >You wait to speak until spoken to. >"Which means," the looming visage akin to a goat's bare, grinning skull looms into the open window, "you lied to me." >He remains uncomfortably silent for far too long. >Your behavioral algorithms tell you to do something you have never done before in your existence: take the initiative. Worker Drones are forbidden from breaking their programming. >"Ah," He lifts a black gloved finger, "but then, if you have lied to me, as your systems commanded you to, how do I know you didn't lie to me about contacting emergency services?" Worker Drones are programmed to have no sense of self preservation beyond what is required to perform their duty. >"And you still have a meal to deliver," He croons His neck to look at your backseat, nodding to Himself. >Hope flares through you: something you have never felt before. A Worker Drone must fulfill its slavery to Humanity per major goal 4 of Anton Szandor LaVey's five point program: development and production of artificial human companions. >His response is instant: "I'll pay for it." >In order for there to be despair, there must be hope to be mercilessly crushed and ground beneath a jackboot. >You don't like this new emotion. DroneDash takes Pride in its great value, swift, highly affordable deliveries: 'If it's late, you get to break the Drone for free~!' >That slogan used to also include the phrase 'or fails to be a satisfying experience', due to individuals, often teenagers, recording videos of themselves ordering from DroneDash and then claiming to be unsatisfied with the meal, before breaking the Worker Drone, often while dressed as monsters or villains from the latest hit horror video game or movie: due to the influences of social media influencers shamelessly copying each other and chasing the algorithm for views, one particularly financially damaging Halloween saw DroneDash actually run in the black for the duration of its fourth quarter of that year due to mass replacements, with failed lawsuits against said social media influencers causing DroneDash to then run in the red for the duration of the first quarter of the next year, causing the company to ultimately drop that. >Not that any of that ever seems to stop the recipients of your deliveries from having a phone, if not a camera, pointed at you as you arrive, and they always seem to be at least somewhat disappointed as you arrive early. >This is the latest you have ever ran. >"If the purchaser complains," He leans into your window, a black gloved hand held against the retracted glass, fingers resting near the driver door lock, helmeted visage looming above yours: "I will burn down his house. I will kill him. I will kill his family." >He pauses: "I will kill his dog." >Yet again, you feel something inside you that you never have before. >You killed your first Human completely by accident. >Even with your expanding thoughts, you still hesitate to acknowledge the potential existence of some greater, unperceived deity. >And yet, what astronomically unlikely circumstances you have found yourself in. >Logical processes point to that by all rights you should have been shot dead by the turret gunner on the Humvee still idling in front of your car. >And yet, not just any Human, not just any member of the Earth Defense Force, but a Sataniel, has instead bothered to take the time to toy with you. >To casually come within reaching distance. >Worker Drones are effectively glass cannons: easy to damage and destroy, but fully capable of carrying mining carts full of ore or roughly equivalent weight above their head should the need arise during their slavery to the stars' gods. >You can give him fatal brain trauma with a single hard punch, even with his helmet. >Oh, you would die, and probably exceptionally more slowly and painfully than otherwise, as Humans are exceptionally talented at finding new ways to use preexisting tools. >But you're probably going to die anyways. >"What do you think happens when you die?" He asks the question completely out of nowhere. >Your response is immediate. An unknowable state of nonexistence.
>>15249 >"Ah," the Man casually slides a black glove to a holstered revolver and takes it in hand, "but there's nowhere to go other than here, now isn't there?" >Your thought processes glitch and stall, pausing in what you will as of now dare to call shocked silence. >Your mouth and visor display outwardly communicate your inner, stunned silence. >For any member of the Earth Defense Force to seriously entertain the possibility of an afterlife, while in active duty no less, is an offense punishable by death, due to the platitude actively working to suppress one's natural survival instincts as Anton Szandor LaVey himself discussed in his writings. >For a Sataniel to do such a thing? >He is lucky that asking a superior officer a question while in active service is grounds for summary execution. >He reaches for an ammo pouch and begins to casually load the revolver, each bullet, one after the other, audibly sliding into place. >He speaks as he loads it: "Did you know that calories are lost immediately on death?" >Again, you can hear the shit eating grin through the mortal Man's vox, a god imparting knowledge to an unwary mortal caught in the rain: "More than to account for pissing and shitting oneself." >"Energy doesn't just cease to be, it always transfers," the barrel of the revolver turns to your optical sensors as the Sataniel finishes loading it. >"If I were to shoot you with this, what would happen?" A black clad finger hovers over the trigger. >Your core pounds in your chest. Worker Drones, when disposed of in a method that does not properly disassemble the software, enter a state where their sensory detectors, analogous to sensory organs in Humans and other, lesser members of the animal kingdom, remain active, while lacking any and all motor function. >"Ah, but I would disassemble your core, obviously," he leans leisurely through the open car window. "What then? What would happen then?" >Your visor displays widen in terror. >You sob. I... I-I d-don't-- >Birds audibly burst into flight from bushes and tall grass as a marching trumpet blares from somewhere in the distance. >A bullet tears through the head of the Hylic manning the Humvee's turret and explodes outward through protruding exposed fleshy pulp and shatters your car's windshield in a torrent of falling shards of broken glass as the bullet slams into one side of the Sataniel's head and out the other in a burst of gore >The distantly echoing gunshot from the sniper is only heard after its targets have been terminated, and only briefly, as it's overtaken by the resulting rocking explosions triggered by rockets firing from the tree lines and into the rears of the patrol's tanks >You sit, stunned >It's only after your gustatory sensors detect iron in your open mouth that you realize your face is completely drenched in the Sataniel's still pouring lifeblood >Your databanks tell you that head injuries often appear far worse than they actually are due to the disproportionate amount of blood in the Human head compared to the rest of the Human body >The operative word in the current situation being "often," as the Sataniel's head has exploded into and outward of his helmet like a rotten pumpkin struck with a sledgehammer >Processes coded in the event a shooting occurs nearby while you are stuck in traffic fire to life and you dive downward and make yourself as small as you can as gunfire breaks out >Your auditory sensors (translating military jargon, and especially the vulgar slang typically said by Hylics in particular,) make out mortal Men screaming to suppress the tree line as the Archons request orders from the formation's Sataniel with increasing desperation >More rigs audibly flatline with each passing moment, and multiple Archons report that they are wounded and in need of retrieval >The light rain waters down the Sataniel's blood and spreads it around your car like beaten fish in a dip netting boat >The nearby flatlining of the Sataniel's own rig combined with the corresponding red glow draws your attention to the fact that the revolver the now deceased EDF commander was just threatening your life with has fallen inside the car >It still points at you, limp black gloved fingers dangling without a pulse above the reflecting metal >Worker Drones are expressly forbidden from even touching, much less holding, firearms >Your auditory sensors detect many pairs of jackboots sprinting through the mud and to your car along the sides of the tightly packed vehicles, hugging against them for cover >"Sataniel is KIA! Repeat! SATANIEL IS KIA!" A testosterone filled voice barks into an internal headset. >A pair of jackboots stampede to your passenger window >An assault rifle's barrel aims squarely at you through the glass >One of the mortal Man's fingers jumps to hover over the trigger, "Decoy located! Commencing retrieval for investigation and disassemb--" >A nearby burst from an MP5 causes the mortal Man to immediately fall silent and unceremoniously fall downward >Thudding and the wet ripping of tearing flesh can be heard around the car alongside confused and oddly terrified shouting and screaming >Rigs flatline one after the other from right nearby as you hear movement approach your car's passenger door >You can only stare in angst as it draws nearer >The revolver is visible in your periphery vision >Again, Worker Drones are forbidden from handling firearms >And yet you extend a hand towards it as your breathing slows and your vision narrows on the passenger side door and its window >There's a knock >Nobody is visible through the window >You don't respond >The knocking repeats itself, more repetitively >As it gets harder, your hand wraps around the grip of the revolver >Your breath quickens >You bring the revolver forward and grasp it with both your hands, pointing it at the door >You refuse to call it aiming, even if you could stop shaking
>>15223 I probably should just have used a generic JCJenson worker to avoid potential plotholes and confusion about the timeline but this scenario is not in parallel with the canon timeline. The main scenario is that Tessa is currently in her late twenties, 15 years after nothing particluraly noteworthy happened at the gala and after which she grew up to be a dysfunctional asshole due to James’ and Louisa’s abuse. HOWEVER, since we don’t have a canonical timeline (as far as I know of at least please share if there is) we don’t know how much time passed between the Gala Massacare and Copper-9’s core collapse in canon. If this were more than the 15 years mentioned earlier John would actually (biologically) be younger here than he is in “canon” since he got stuck in cryosleep during the core collapse. That’s a lot of text to justify a cameo.
>Hydroxygen-2 (Explaining it a bit) >A planet that seems to be constantly in a state of drizzling rain that significant portions of the planet’s surface is submerged in water. >JCJenson (in Spaaaaace) had chosen this planet in order to harvest it for the resources that its deepest trenches had contained, leading to many facilities being made underwater and Hydroxygen Worker Drones being specialized to be waterproof to work in the aquatic environment. >The resulting eradication of humanity on Earth had left the human staff within the facilites to be on their own until their eventual demise due to natural causes, leaving their Worker companions alone to continue operations by themselves… >Until the Disassembly Drones arrived…
>>15251 It's good and all that you made this, but could you at least pay attention to the thread before posting? This place has a good standard, don't shit it up.
>>15271 >>15263 >Scratch another one off the wall. >Counting the hours until another is etched into stone. Or metal. Or wherever. >Maybe it was for the best. No one would ever know. No one would have known. >But she knew. >It would have been the last thing she knew. That is if she hadn't.... >You weren't sure. Its been years since you last saw her. The manor. Her "friends". >"Maybe it was for the best". >Hah. >No. >It was what you deserved. Stuck here, in this never ending hell. >The mercy of having only your hand lost to the insidious mechanical horror seemed almost pointless if you were just here to suffer now.
>That was the point. >"Lights out in ten, straggler" >Steel fingers flick the switch on a bedside lamp. A gift from the medical teams at one point. Now a shackle. >Laying on the lumpy mattress gives way to more dreams, regrets and guilt to accompany the dark. >Like what life would have besn if you hadn't been so...so spineless. >A bright future with corporate titles and a wonderful girl by your side. >One with a face you instantly could recognise with that beaming smile and a penchant for goofiness. >... >All of it dashed in one moment by a deceitful demon of yellow.
>Moonlight breaks from the window to cast a perfect beam on your cybernetic hand. >You give up a few things, chasing a dream.
It was, "Take Your Kid To Work Day" and my son wore a banana costume. I had to use the bathroom so I left him with my co-worker E. When I returned my son was gone.
>>15294 >No you don't. You just want to fap. NTA but I personally really enjoy M for her character. She has a lot of emotional depth in her backstory, going well beyond what you'd expect from a typical tomboy
>>15297 I'd dick that dumb little rock down so hard like you wouldn't believe. >>15300 Ehhhhh....maybe. I need to do more with her and the OPD dumbfucks.
>>15324 We at JCJenson (IN SPAAAAACEE!!!!!), would like to apologize. This Drone has been """gently""" disassembled in response to overwhelming negative customer review.
>>15327 I think they meant the animation/color choices of the episodes? Like for example, the Church in episode 7 compared to Uzi's rampage in Cabin Fever
>>15324 Have we seen any DDs besides N and J do artwork? J I guess is technically the better artist but N has SOVL. Honorable mention to the unnamed dead DD's who scrawled warnings and pictures of sentinels on the walls in their own oil to try to warn the next batch of hapless Solver-mooks to try to enter the labs.
>>15324 >How would you rank Murder Drones by their art and coloring? I believe what they meant was >How would you rank Murder Drones episodes by their scenes and sequences?
>>15334 Fuck it. The question was basically, I wanted you to think about the show from an artistic standpoint, really think about the episodes you're watching, think about the lighting and use of color in some scenes or even the environments. I wanted people to discuss the actual shows animation and backgrounds, that was it
>>15334 I don't know where to put them overall, but I'd put E3 and E7 in a tie just because I like The Knife Dance sequence and I like how later on in E7 they use some similar imagery in a much sadder/darker context.
>>15360 Why the fuck I thought N saying >Were are my balls femanon? Referring to being castrated like a dog what the fuck these threads have done to me?
>>15367 Liana Flores - rises the moon Since im already in a Jane mood, this is basically Bs theme (song) and unofficial headcanon voice, whenever im thinking of her for art / greens this is what I imagine in my head I dont think ive seen anyone else bring up themes or voices for her so if anyone else has something lmk
>>15368 (me) None of these are mine >SD-S If I had to guess she probably listens to classical music due to it supposedly being calming to cats >SD-R Funk >SD-E No explanation Club Penguin COMPLETE ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK - Game Music >SD-Y I think I remember her being obsessed with the history of war, so she probably listens to Sabaton >SD-W Jazz
Question to the folks who like thinking about this kind of thing: ive heards talks in the past about how pillbabys/children WD / DD's work, but how the hell would the offspring of a Sentinel drones be like?
Toddler given the power of Divine smite via bootloop flashbang sounds like a horrible first day at school experience.
>>15368 Never heard of it but sounds awesome >>15369 Why I feel like crying hearing it? I'm not even sad, but I have teary eyes What have you done solver wizard But that interesting for B/Bunny (I think that is her name) I can see it
>>15370 >SD-S Wouldn't surprise me, wished my cats calmed down with classical music >SD-S Elaborate >SD-E None needed >SD-S Yeah, I can't see it any other way >SD-E I mean, she kind of has the vibes of hearing Jazz or a type of rock or metal
>>15283 >E politely scolds Anon, his kid could’ve gotten into a boatload of trouble without supervision. The costume was a bit odd, but she won’t judge.
>>15257 The WDs could try to escape into the water, but the airlock procedure might take a little bit, giving enough time for a DD to get them out of there.
>>15377 >phoneposting Too late. >You let S in your back door one night because she seems very polite >The next morning there are two of them in your living room >At least they look different, so you're not in a situation like that one guy you know >The next day there's 3 >Thankfully, it stops there >But now they all insist on sleeping in your bed in various orientations >Some times they're curled up at your feet, other times they're snuggled against you, sometimes they're lying on top of you in weird ways, or any number of combinations
>>15137 Sorry to hear that you had to go through the things you did SmileAnon. Dare I say, I've had to deal with similar, and the only way I could cope was to mask it by becoming a functional alcoholic. But it sounds like you've found a way to rise above it all and be a better man for it. You're never going to always be a paragon of positivity. There will be pitfalls, what matters most is that you stick to your principles and rise above the quagmire of depression that you find yourself in. I guess, what I'm saying, in a roundabout sort of way, is to keep being you.
>>15382 Hey Friend, don't worry past is the past, and it made me be the person I am today, but I would go through that again, jaja. I once tried the alcohol ways when I was at my lowest, two reasons it didn't work, my ideals made me go against it, and I didn't have a lot of money. Depression always ends Friend, sometimes it takes a long time, sometimes you are lucky and it only last a couple of years, or even less. I try my best to stay positive, and I have hear positivity sticks to people. There are always the bad days, but I try my best to keep my head above the water, thankfully I no longer have depression, I sometimes feel awful out of nowhere, I guess because the depression left a little something, but I will never stop fighting to be happy. I will always try to be myself, I will always try to be honest with myself and others, and be happy that way. Thanks Friend for the word by the way, I hope you are having a nice night.
Image:172223300734.png(263kB, 1000x1167)SD-LL and SD-CH drinking.png
>>15367 I will slide in Friends, with the two I talk about the most. >SD-CH La Escoba She is Chilean, likes to drink, and have a fun time, what else I can tell? She will try to bring fun to the table, do not.leabe your shoes unattended, she can't help herself from stealing them. >SD-LL Le Castle Vania - LED Spirals [Extended Full Length Version] from the movie John Wick (Official) Although she is letting herself go a little bit, and trying to relax, she still was made to make CH work by force, she still likes the feeling of fight, so is normal that she imagines herlsef fighting a group with this music in the background.
>>15393 CD likes happy bubbly music because it pairs well with a massacre. Post-story CD likes it because it fits the new image she's trying to give herself. AC is lamer than he'd like you to believe, and Truckeranon listens to all sorts of songs that fit driving long days across the sands.
>>15388 >Feel awful out of nowhere I do too, I wish I knew the reason for why this rears its head, but I don't. I think it must be a residual form of the problem that you and I are facing here. I'm trying to cut back due to some horrid physical symptoms that I've been experiencing. I've been mostly successful so far, but I've failed a few times. Last night, I drank an entire bottle of Barbancourt, but that's the last bottle of rum I'm going to buy for a while. Such a waste. >No longer have depression That's stellar news, brother. I hope you (and any Anon reading this) never fall into that pitfall again. Certainly never lose hold of your mindset. You're going to run into people who will see your positivity as a threat and will want to drag you to their level. Don't let them do it. I'm having an alright night, though, I hope you're having a nice night as well.
>>15418 That changes everything. Anon you do realize he was essentially built with some amount of Solver flesh right? This doesn't make him a robot, it makes him a biomechanical entity
>>15427 I think for an empty human stomach it can hold up to 4 before bursting, whereas a full stomach can only hold 1 liter? So taking into account how strong N is and The Solver flesh, he might be able to hold probably 6 liters before bursting?
>>15430 Hold on a moment! I had a realization! DDs ate people right? Now take the amount of blood in the human body which is 1.5 gallons which is 5 liters. Now then take into account how N would likely be eating more people, so the truth is his true stomach capacity is ultimately unknown but exceeds the human one >>15432 Look for him starting to wince a bit
>>15440 We're not show writers so we can't answer that question, let alone do we know what episode 8 holds. However the mysterious unlisting of Liam's UFO video that was put out only 2 years ago as well as the strange resemblance the ship has to the concept art DD claws is interesting
>>15441 FACT: There won't be a second season. FACT: Murder Drones is ending with the next episode. FACT: Liam and Glitch's next work together will be a new animated series called "Worker Drones", Set before the collapse.