/md/ - Murder Drones

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No.335362
Murder Drones #339Anonymous
Replies:>>335366>>335374>>335376>>335377
Image:177200395785.png(589kB, 1642x1962)1768045411238.png
Anon, if you want to marry a drone, but your veteran father is categorically against it, then just choose a sentinel drone!

The very good Booru: https://dronebooru.co
Wheel of many, many, many OCs: https://wheelofnames.com/z8q-2mf
Wheel of modifiers: https://wheelofnames.com/4h8-fyf
The wiki inside the Booru: https://dronebooru.co/wiki_pages/original_character
The very deep of information Wiki: wiki.dronebooru.co
Last thread: >>334435
No.335365
Anonymous
Replies:>>335368>>335371
Image:177200432554.jpg(57kB, 555x555)555.jpg
>>335361
>>Fleshzi is fantastic at cards
No.335366
Anonymous
Replies:>>335369
>>335362
So would everyone know Fleshzi somehow developed inside Nori, or would there be a cover story that she's an alien or something?
No.335367
Anonymous
>>335364
>>335361
I might do something with these
No.335368
Anonymous
Replies:>>335371
>>335365
>Lay down a royal flush against Fleshzi.
>Fleshzi puts down EXODIA - THE FORBIDDEN ONE!
No.335369
Anonymous
Image:177200479105.png(375kB, 886x1204)uzi doorman, nori doorman, and khan doorman (original character and 1 more) drawn by lilblucat - 44bb93fb9f01e18363454209e1f3f4e0.png
>>335366
I mean, the two weren't exactly subtle about things judging by the comic, rather proud of their work even. Though on the Worker/Uzi side of things I could easily see them thinking she was some science experiment "crazy Nori" cooked up in a lab and her husband just decided to roll with.

Uzi at bare minimum I could see begging and pleading internally that she it IS a cover story and she's really just a normal/exceptional variant of some alien species instead, if only because the alternative is her being a crappy passion project her mom made on a whim.
No.335370
Anonymous
I CHALLENGE Smileanon to draw something
No.335371
Anonymous
>>335365
>>335368
>Being closer as they are, Uzi used to talk with the WDF about anime when she was little
>Most of her entreaties to watch went nowhere
>... but not all
>The Force was, after all, very interested in the idea of an entire show about a card game
>Even more so when some scavengers found a deck they didn't recognize
>One "human cartoon" episode later they were hooked
>Now "heart of the cards" is a permanent staple amongst the door guards
>Dressing as Kabia, however, is utterly forbidden after the last incident
No.335372
Anonymous
Replies:>>335373
Image:177200594303.png(870kB, 2000x1803)1768045411428.png
Y is designed for two things:
1. To be an absolute disappointment to the entire drone nation, a laughingstock who can only pretend she's worth something when even her team despises her.
2. Eat strudels.
No.335373
Anonymous
Replies:>>335384
>>335372
I dip a soft pretzel into thick nacho cheese and feed it to Y at the drive-in theatre.
No.335374
Anonymous
Replies:>>335378>>335379
Image:177200627949.jpg(113kB, 2560x1440)i-like-to-imagine-this-particular-skeleton-was-mitchell-v0-nh03424evhwc1.jpeg
>>335362
>Be you veteran Anon.
>You’re one of humanity best defender.
>Your sentinel wife is also an unstoppable unit.
>You were the best duo in your army.
>You charge forward, the battlefield.
>Bullets whine past your ears, explosions shake the earth.
>but your determination burns brighter than any fear.
>You cut down all the hostile drones and traitors with ruthless precision.
>Their blood splattering across your uniform. warm and sticky.
>But one day, everything changes.
>But not for the better.
>You felt the impact.
>A searing tear through your chest, >The fatal wound that drops you to your knees.
>The world blurs, sounds fade to a distant roar.
>Your sentinel wife begs you not to go to the light.
>But darkness claims you.
>But you die proud by her side.
>Loyal to the end, bathed in the sticky oil proof of your devotion.
>Then, awareness flickers back, unbidden and cruel.
>You're not gone. You're... here.
>But where?
>Your body lies still, heavy and unresponsive.
>Yet you perceive everything.
>The air is cool, sterile, laced with the scent of flowers and polished wood. >Voices murmur around you.
>Friends, comrades, family and your wife.
>All consumed by grief.
>They're mourning you.
>A funeral?
>You try to call out, to tell them you're alive.
>trapped inside this coffin.
>But your vocal cords are damaged.
>Panic rises, a silent scream echoing in your mind.
>Hands lift you: gentle, reverent.
>The casket sways as they carry you. >The dirt smells grow stronger: damp soil, fresh-turned dirt.
>They lower you into the ground.
>No!
>You will your limbs to move, to pound on the lid.
>But nothing happens.
>The first shovelfuls of dirt thud against the coffin.
>Sealing you in darkness.
>Buried alive.
>Are you even alive or just another mutation?
>Could it be that all blood you spilled on yourself.
>Infected with the solver virus as well?
>The pressure builds, the air is running out.
>Desperation claws at you.
>Your mind screams commands to your fingers.
>scratch, dig, fight!
>Anything...
>Your nails rake against the satin lining.
>Tearing the wood in futile frenzy. >Splinters embed in your fingertips as you gouge the wood.
>Your breaths shallow, clinging the oxygen into your lungs.
>Hours stretch into eternity.
>Thirst gnaws at you, hunger punching your guts, but worse is the isolation.
>Days passes.
>You feel it begin: the rot.
>Skin softens, bloating with gases that press against your insides like balloons ready to burst.
>Fluids leak from orifices you can't control.
>Insects arrive: worms, beetles burrowing through the soft skin tissue, into your flesh.
>Their tiny mouths nibble, a thousand pinpricks that evolve into burning agony as they devour muscle.
>Weeks? Months?
>Time dissolves. But there’s good news.
>You finally snapped the coffin wide open.
>With any strength lift, you pulled yourself out.
>You try sniffing the air although your smelling aren't working properly.
>But you admired the freedom.
>And then you see her.
>Your sentinel wife...
>But she's not enjoying the reunion as you did.
>She calls a disgusting mutant...
>That can't be right, your wife wouldn't call you that.
>Maybe she doesn't recognize you?
>You show her a souvenir.
>She recognize it and fall into tears.
>You’re filled with joy but then she blew a bullet to your head.
>Calling it a mercy.
>You wake up in the same grave.
>The cycle repeats.
No.335375
Anonymous
Goodnight Oogi
No.335376
Anonymous
Replies:>>335377
>>335362
Possibilities a friend and I developed in our own musings about Fleshzi: she doesn't get magic powers. She has to rely on what she knows all the way through. It's just that after her thing kicks in at the prom, she gains the ability to assimilate weapons and gadgets and produce them as part of her body DD-style.
We'd also be able to see what she could do with her backup regular gun she mentioned in her blueprints for her big laser that gets called a railgun for some reason. And with one of the improved railguns that saw zero use in the episode 8 we got because Liam wanted to goon to V some more.
No.335377
Anonymous
Replies:>>335380
>>335376 (me)
>>335362
So, I suppose it's more that she doesn't get magic spells.
No.335378
Anonymous
>>335374
Kino green of sadness...
No.335379
Anonymous
>>335374
A horror end for a glorious hero of humanity. Or rather, it's a horror without end.
No.335380
Anonymous
>>335377
Makes sense, though that DOES make me wonder if fleshzi as main-host gets any different componenets/forms/abilities or if it's the same depersonalization as normal Uzi.
No.335381
Anonymous
Replies:>>335382>>335388
Fleshzi's soft wet grape flavored pussy
No.335382
Anonymous
Replies:>>335385
>>335381
>grape
is she black?
No.335383
Anonymous
Replies:>>335395
Oh my god it’s been so long
No.335384
Anonymous
Image:177200956597.png(1.42MB, 1653x1704)1768045411755.png
>>335373
The taste of cheese is the taste of self-hatred.
No.335385
Anonymous
>>335382
No, she's purple
No.335386
Anonymous
Replies:>>335387
Image:177200994866.png(150kB, 599x419)IHNMAIMS-11.png
Hey you. Gimme some horror/grim ideas for canon-character focused greentexts to work on. Oc's also fine i guess.
No.335387
Anonymous
Replies:>>335389>>335390>>335399
>>335386
A giant Disassembly Drone J destroys a city. Classic Godzilla(though were Godzilla movies ever considered horror?)
No.335388
Anonymous
Replies:>>335392
>>335381
how does it differ from the keet?
No.335389
Anonymous
>>335387
disaster flick
also your macrofaggotry is showing
No.335390
Anonymous
Replies:>>335391
>>335387
You like my green that much?: >>333024
No.335391
Anonymous
Replies:>>335395
>>335390
It's really funny, so yeah.
No.335392
Anonymous
>>335388
Keet is plum flavored
No.335393
Anonymous
Replies:>>335394
Fleshies are gross not solver sapiens just hu*ans
No.335394
Anonymous
Image:177201133095.png(1.03MB, 1554x2380)1768045411740.png
>>335393
Humans are literally the most superior species, the best there is in this galaxy, so simmer silently, mold.
No.335395
Anonymous
Replies:>>335397
Image:177201144526.png(414kB, 1080x1292)I like pain.png
>>335383
>It's been so long since I wrote my oc's.
>>335391
Turning funny greentext to horror is kinda difficult.
No.335396
Anonymous
Fleshzi's would stink even worse than normal Uzi.
No.335397
Anonymous
>>335395
Well, if anon wants, he can write horror green with Jiant however he wants, not necessarily about the city. But here, I repeat, if the anon wants to write at all.
No.335398
Anonymous
Duly noted on these and will go through them thoroughly
>>335167
>>335223
>>335275

I'll clarify some things after analyzing them
No.335399
Excuse me if this bad or rushed i had to do something urgent
Replies:>>335403>>335406
>>335387
>Be me, a worker drone.
>We didn't ask for much.
>Just to live enough to do our job.
>Working...
>Sorting debris from the old human era.
>Everything feels safe.
>Or so I thought.
>It started small.
>Something... wet.
>A drip echoed from the ceiling vents, then another.
>I paused mid-sort, my visor flickering as I scanned upward.
>Black liquid seeped through the cracks, thick and familiar.
>Oil?
>But hotter than anything we have circulating through our wires.
>Greasy and acrid.
>I muttered to myself, backing away as a puddle formed, hissing against the metal floor.
>Alarms blared colony-wide. >"Evacuate lower levels! Structural breach!"
>But it was too late.
>The drip turned to a pour, then to a torrent.
>Black oil cascaded from above.
>Flooding the corridors like a ruptured artery.
>I sloshed through it.
>My ankle sunk deep.
>Other workers panicking, their voices glitching into static.
>"What's happening? The sky's falling!"
>The sky? No, the ceiling buckled then the horror truly began.
>Drone limbs rained down.
>Severed heads, arms, legs and torsos...
>Drone parts tumbling from vents and fissures, bouncing off shelves with wet thuds.
>Then bigger things: giant batteries, crashing like meteors.
>Exploding on impact and spraying sparks into the oil.
>Fires erupted, turning the flood into an inferno hell.
>I ran or tried to.
>The oil rose to my waist, pulling me down with its viscous grip.
>It burned...
>Oh, how it burned...
>Eating through my plating like acid. >"This can't be real," I gasped.
>My cooling fans whining in overdrive. >Was it the end?
>Warning signals flooded my HUD: >CRITICAL DAMAGE.
>Deeper into the colony I fled, but the oil pursued.
>Workers ahead of me vanished under it.
>Their limbs flailing before going still. >The rain intensified: more limbs everywhere.
>The world tilted, gravity glitching as if the planet itself was unraveling.
>I climbed a maintenance ladder.
>Oil slicking my grips, slipping twice before hauling up.
>From there, I saw it all...
>The colony transforming into a hellscape, submerged in greasy blackness.
>Debris falling endlessly.
>"Why?"
>"What in robo-god did this?"
>And then, in a final surge of clarity, as the oil crested over me, pulling me under... I saw.
>Through a massive rupture in the ceiling, beyond the colony's shell, loomed an impossible sight.
>A colossal disassembly drone.
>She was munching on a giant "burger".
>A grotesque mash of compressed drone parts, limbs protruding like fillings.
>Bits crumbled from her jaws, tumbling down as the rain of arms and torsos.
>A massive cup hovered at her side, sloshing with hot black oil.
>She slurped messily, spills cascading like waterfalls, flooding our world below.
>So this is how the apocalypse started?
>Not by a calamity.
>But by a drone having lunch.
No.335400
Anonymous
Replies:>>335402>>335404
Image:177201398728.jpg(599kB, 2302x708)IMG_2210.jpeg
which iconic color do you prefer for Janer’s iconic eyes?
No.335401
Anonymous
Replies:>>335405
Cuddling and making out with Dubs!
No.335402
Anonymous
>>335400
Black if its a chibi.
No.335403
Anonymous
>>335399
Oh my god, I had to hold back from bursting out laughing on the train by the end, great green, anon!
No.335404
Anonymous
>>335400
Red. It's hot.
No.335405
Anonymous
>>335401
Grab Dubs' ass!
No.335406
Anonymous
>>335399
Turbo kek
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