/md/ - Murder Drones

Jane the Human.

>>350951
Nobody does, that's why the game has no human fans
>except...
>the game DOES let you work on both male and female models after all
>and since there's mod support...

>>350953
Can I not be envious of Nuzi's relationship?(cute fucks)

Hello again, it's been a bit long since I've written a proper green. Thought id might throw something together out of a scrapped AVRE green I had a while back, but this time with some new faces and a new planet.
Here hoping this is somewhat readable.

Date: Late 3070/Early 3071
Location: Elysium System | Elysium-7
Status: Excavation/Research | Currently Under siege by solver forces
Last update: 4 months ago
-
Name: Anonymous
Occupation: Researcher/Assistant geologist
Location: Research Facility: Point Abyssal
Population: 32 (updated): 1
Status: SOS
-
>Be Anon.
>6 months ago, the facility I worked at, as well as the rest of this planet and presumably the entire system, came under attack by Solver forces.
>All military assets stationed on this planet were either diverted to the system capital, or were destroyed when the dropships arrived.
>This planet isn't much, a frozen iceball with some deep ore systems and a few geothermal quirks, it didn't have much more than mining operations and research facilities stationed on it.
>So when Dropships full of ravenous murdermachines dropped into the planet, it was quickly deemed a total loss and focus was diverted to the main fight on Elysium-3.
>Or so I've heard.
>Our facility, outside of our ring of facilities on this continent,lost contact with the rest of the system, and all we could do was hear the radios of other outposts go silent one by one till they reached ours.

>Of all my team members, I was the only survivor, by sheer luck and being a coward.
>We only had hunting rifles and excavation tools at our disposal, and didn't stand much of a chance, so I hid.
>Others did too, but the spot I chose seemed to go unnoticed by their hunting parties.
>A semi-active geothermal vent, which luckily stayed dormant while I hid inside, the passive heat from below kept me from freezing to death while I heard my coworkers get slaughtered above me.
>By the time I emerged, the facility and the rest of its previous inhabitants were ravaged.
>Most of the structures were no longer habitable due to various chunks ripped out of the walls.
>I ended up boarding up one of the few remaining sealed rooms: the communication shack, which surprisingly remained undamaged throughout the event.
>The mess hall was basically destroyed, but the food storage cellar still had the supplies to feed 32 people for the 6 month project this was meant to be, so at least I wasn't going to starve to death easily.

>The next few months were a mix of scavenging, hiding, attempting communication with other stations, and trying to keep what few remaining systems of the facility working so i dont freeze to death.
>About 2 months ago, the roaming patrols of those machines that were still on the planet… stopped roaming, and outside of my last close encounter with a roaming individual, that was the last I saw of those things.
>It was around that time I finally reached contact with another facility over radio, who managed to dodge most of this attack on account of being under the ice surface.
>Their reports matched mine, wherever those patrols went, it's evident they're not here anymore.
>The next 2 months up to now were uncomfortably calm in comparison.
>With communications re-established, I've started a routine to try to keep myself sane to endure whatever comes next.

>Weather permitting, I take a walk around the remains of the facility, see if there is anything worth scavenging/repairing, and take rations from the cellar to eat for the day.
>While the walk itself isn't pleasant, it's good to make sure the paths stay clear and it helps keep the cabin fever at bay, plus at times the surrounding landscape is quite pleasing when it's not a blizzard hellscape.
>In my little reclaimed habitation, I talk with the other facilities and keep myself busy with keeping notes of this whole ordeal, drawing, and self reflection.
>This room also has a half-functioning radar system, normally used to keep track of the facility members who venture outside the facility so they don't get lost / stuck.
>Unsure if it's been damaged or not, because it's been reporting blips occasionally, but any investigations into them revealed nothing of note, or at least nothing the snowdrift doesn't like covering up by the time I reach it.
>The only thing it can track in that mode is station members and a few pieces of equipment, so unsure what's going on with it, so I've turned it off for now.
>MustHaveBeenTheWind.mp3

>Outside of the general unease though, I'm probably decently well off, all things considered.
>Just gotta wait for rescue to come, if it ever does.
>Seems easy enough, it's what I've been doing the last 6 months, and my food should last me another 6 months more or longer depending on if anything starts expiring.
>So I'm good right?
>Well, under normal circumstances, sure.
>However, I'm in a bit of a predicament at the moment.
>Currently, I'm stuck hanging upside down, in some sort of snare strung up between the frames of two damaged structures.
>A snare I didn't set up, or even know HOW to set up.
>Right along the path of my typical route to the cellar.
>This does not bode well.

(1-5)

>>350956
>One second you were trudging along in the snow, none the wiser, next you were hanging upside down by your ankles, dangling aimlessly.
>You can just about still reach the ground with your hands, but all you can really reach is your dropped gear and the surrounding snow.
>Your cold weather suit is going to make it damn difficult to try and reach the rope/wire/whateverthefuck currently tied around your feet, but you'd rather dangle then risk taking it off and freezing out here, or be tangled in the attempt.
>Fishing through your dropped bag, you finally pull out the knife you've kept for emergencies
>Right as you do, you hear something behind you, the sound of something standing on creaky metal.
>Pushing at the ground to slowly turn yourself, knife in your other hand, you slowly face your trapper.
>It's… not what you were expecting.

>What you WERE expecting was either a curious murder bot that came back to finish the job in its own sadistic way, or another surviving human, who decided cannibalism wasn't the worst thing to do that day.
>What you got instead was… what appears to be a drone wrapped in a dark blue cloak.
>Your facility did have a few drones it used for some tasks, but they were assumed lost with everyone else.
>[Hello?]
>No verbal response, though there seems to be some sort of physical reaction to your voice.
>Otherwise, the both of you just stare at one another for the moment before the line holding your ankles spins enough to where you're forced to turn yourself back around not to twist up your legs.
>By the time you loop back around to facing that direction, the drone is right up in your face now.

>Bad time to also notice the curved knife being held in its hand, which rests at the same level as your head.
>Not trying to agitate the drone and get yourself gutted, you drop your knife, but keep it within arms reach.
>It just stares at you more, barely a hint of reaction from its seemingly damaged visor.
>You'd rather not let it get handsy with you.
>[Hey uh, you're one of the drones that we used here right? I thought you guys all-]
>Your excuse of a conversation starter is cut short as the drone winces and visibly recoils from the sound of your voice.
>Something shutters under the hood of the drone for a moment, and you see a bit more of its display and face.
>Yeah, it seems obviously damaged, with its visor cracked on the upper edges and one of its display ‘eyes’ being split in two by various glitches and errors on its display.
>It's clearly hurt, maybe I can help it?

>you don't know a damn thing about repairing drones, but there might be a few books left around here that might help you learn.
>[Hey, are you alright? Im not a technician but maybe i can help patch yo-]
>The drone winces again and cuffs your mouth shut before you can finish your question with its free hand.
>Then it speaks
>”(Avervir kung! avervir kung! gljimgrumth thaggi!!)”
>what.
>You didn't understand a word it just said, it sounded vaguely eastern european? But nothing you've ever heard before.
>Your audible ‘huh?’ is muffled as it kept your mouth muffled
>It lets go after you stay silent for a moment, it mumbling something under its breath in its weird language.
>Curiously, it turns you around a few times as you dangle, your confused self left to hang in awkward silence.

>Eventually it comes back around to your head and begins fiddling with your goggles, undoing them before you get the chance to complain.
>During this entire ordeal, its body language has been expressive but its visor has been locked in an expressionless gaze.
>Now though, its face managed to contort that blank stare into a two… three eyed(?) squint.
>The glitched left eye that split in two seems to act and blink separately from one another.
>Interesting.
>Your train of thought is derailed when the drone starts poking at your exposed face curiously.
>”(zkrinn … slach oz soft, inoth felannr hlavor, hlavor rurk, zkrinn gaze … zkrinn thaga … tho ur atur gljimgrumth zankhez.)”
>It seems to be talking to itself as it examines you.
>Next it takes off your beanie, exposing your overgrown hair and your pale ass forehead to the cold world.
>It pokes the sides of your head, seemingly more confused now, as if it was looking for something, but remains silent.

>Eventually it roughly puts the beanie back on your head, but keeps your goggles and examines them thoroughly, looking through them as though they were unfamiliar with the concept of eye protection.
>It eventually drops them and starts going for your dropped gear when your watch’s alarm starts going off.
>The Signal to get back to your shelter before it gets dark out.
>The temps and winds at night time here are no joke, if you're caught outside you can freeze in minutes.
>It grabs your hand in an attempt to smother the notice, but then quickly glances around and realises the context of the situation with the fading light.
>It mutters more words you'll never hope to understand, then backs off from you and your stuff.
>It better not fucking leave you here to freeze.
>You manage to reach your knife again, and begin hopelessly trying to bend up and reach the binding around your ankles, the drone notices this.
>In response, the drone pulls back their knife out again.
>You stop because you'd rather not get stabbled.
>It walks over to one of the supporting walls, tugs on one of the lines taught with tension, and in one swipe your body crashes onto the hard snow below.

>You get up and access yourself , but before you can grab your things you feel something sharp poke the center of your back.
>”(Mot vesel jr avervir vjarbund, jeg wont gevroran dokk tho vjol, voth farurm ilv joth ozo.)”
>No idea what they said but you get the memo.
>I think I'm a hostage now.
>Slowly, the drone allows you to grab your dropped things including your knife. It watches you stow it back in your bag, then you get up and, with another poke of their knife, begin your trek back to your hut.
>The size difference between the two of you would be almost humorous if you weren't well aware of the raw strength those small drones are capable of, so you don't do anything funny as it follows you back to your shelter.
>No idea if this drone wants to actually hurt you or not, or even its intentions, but until you can figure out that strange language it speaks you're going to be left confused for the time being.
>It's nearly dark by the time you're back home, you half shoulder the door open as some snow drift has partially blocked it, reluctantly, you let the little drone follow you inside.

(2-5)

>>350957
>The inside of your shelter isn't much to look at, center of the room is occupied by a spaceheater, surrounded by a sleeping bag, a small table with some utensils and a heat pad so you can at least attempt to prep some meals, a bookshelf full of stuff to read, the radio & Damaged radar station, and a small computer that's not much use anymore besides playing music.
>Just enough to keep you sane and occupied, but not by much.
>You sit down next to your cooking station, and begin going through your bag, while the drone leans next to the door, eyeing your movements suspiciously.
>Digging through your bag, you pull out what you went out to grab before you got yoinked: Cans of food from the cellar and a MRE.
>You just put them on the counter for now, and begin taking off your mildly wet and sweaty gear.
>The drone watches you take off all but a t-shirt and boxers, and hang the rest of your gear near the heater to dry.
>As you swap into the clothes you'll probably sleep in, you watch the drone slowly relax its posture a little, and eventually it pulls down the hood of its cloak, showing the full extent of the damage on its head:

>The cracks on the visor are more spread out then first seen, spreading across both sides of the head and only leaving most of the front undamaged.
>The left cheek of the drone seems to be patched by some smooth, glassy material that reflects light strangely, unsure if that is a cosmetic choice or all the drone had for repairs.
>That's far from the strangest thing, as on both sides of the head seems to have sprouted a large set of curved horns, curled in a way where the points jut out just below its visor.
>The attachment points of said horns are in between the top of the visor and the top of the head, and seems to be where most of the cracking of the visor originates from.
>You're unsure of the implications of said horns are for, nor the extensive damage seemingly done to the head to have them ‘attached’ but it's not like you can really ask the drone about it, can ya?

>Actually maybe… but there still seems to be more:
>If the head is in this state of disrepair, even after the modifications this drone seems to have done to itself, you can only imagine what the conduction of the rest of this drone's body must be.
>The rest of the drones limbs seem at least partially wrapped in some sort of bindings, possibly indicating more damage.
>You’d almost feel bad for it, if it didn't hold you at knife point just a few minutes earlier.
>Your curiosity of the purple material is halted by the returning stare of the drone into your own head, if the drone was showing any emotion right now, id probably be curious.
>It tilts its head to one side, and one of the horns seems to uncurl slightly, as if some internal ligaments in it relaxed like a finger would.
>Weird.

>The two of you continue staring at each other for another moment before you decide to break the silence yourself and try to ask about the horns, however futile that might seem.
>[Why do you have horns?] You say as you tap the side of your head roughly where their horns sprout out of. Trying your best to keep it simple and brief.
>It seems less agitated by your voice now, as it just tilt its head further before giving a response:
>”(Goth tho gotek hef loothr? jr denthar askung joth grumz zkrinn jikablith denthar? goth tho darthu)?”
>It's about at this point where you realise ‘it’ might be a ‘she’.
>While it responded, the horns of it twisted and untwisted in various stages, as if trying to convey something while it spoke, all while its face remained emotionless minus another confused looking squint at the end.
>But its voice, despite the very strange accent, sounds feminine.

>It stops leaning on the wall and approaches you, body language seemingly a mix between curious and cautious.
>You're starting to get the impression it's unfamiliar with human contact, which shouldn't be the case if it's one of your site's drones.
>It crouches down next to you and gives you another look over before reaching for your arm, you pull away out of reflex but it grabs it anyways with inhuman strength and speed, a confirmation that you really shouldn't try anything stupid around this thing.
>It inspects your arm like it's examining for wounds or blemishes, feeling the texture in a few spots presumably to answer any weird monologs it has going in that machine brain of hers.
>If you knew any better, you'd think it might be a doctor or something, but outside its curiosity, it shows no traits of one.

>This continued for the rest of the night while you attempted to get your evening routing done so you can try and sleep away this strange day.
>You were finally spared more examination as its gaze went to your equipment and living space.
>Occasionally it would grab something, examine it a little, attempt to ask a question or just mutter something (both equality illegible), you'd respond by naming whatever item she was holding, and they'd put it down and move onto something else.
>(Vaem jr etta?) she asks as she picks up a flashlight.
>[“Flashlight, Bright.”] you gesture by clicking an invisible switch with your thumb, which they seem to connect the dots for and press the button on the handle, turning it on.
>While they were distracted with that, you got the chance to eat a small bit of your food before climbing into the sleeping bag.
>Seems they at least understand the basic concept of rest, as they didn't seem to have any conflict with you dimming the lights and went back to leaning on the wall near the door.
>The two of you continue to glance at each other in the dark before exhaustion eventually takes you.

(3-5)

>>350958
>To your surprise, you weren't butchered or robbed in your sleep, that's a relief at least.
>Moreso, when you awake, you find the drone gone.
>Did you just hallucinate the whole thing yesterday? You wouldn't doubt it at your current state, but it's not an answer you ponder for long.
>Not long after you exit your shelter to start your morning route, you spot the drone again, rummaging through one of the gutted remains of a structure.
>It seems preoccupied, and gives you little more of a glance through its hood as you walk past.
>Not long after though, you do notice it following you from a short distance.
>You reach your first task for the day, checking the status of the geothermal generator powering the station.

>The building surrounding it was trashed much like the rest of the site, but the generator itself survived the attack, albeit requiring continuous repairs to continue running.
>You open the maintenance panel on the side of it and keep tabs on its stability.
>ill probably burn another fuse soon, the site has plenty of spares but it blowing out at night risks a very frigid sleep, so you've been removing the fuses prematurely to inspect them.
>No signs of overwattage or external damage, you put it back, and check the rest of the system's statuses.
>As you do, you're passively aware of the drone behind you observing your actions, you hope it doesn't become curious of this machine and breaks it or itself trying to examine it.
>Finishing your inspection, everything seems stable for the moment. You're happy it's not a system that would need refueling, as it generates power from the geothermal vents below us.
>It's functionally a heated water turbine, and as long as the water keeps pumping and the generator is maintained, this thing should last years before needing major work.
>You close the panel and switch back on the main power, the machine hums back to life.
>Next on your route, inspect the status of the radio tower.

>the actual radio resides in your shelter, but the antenna itself is a bit off site, and was sufficiently damaged in the attack.
>Reaching it, the tower sits at an awkward angle, part of its frame bent inward as a result of some sort of heavy, drone sized impact.
>The fuzebox sits at ground level, clearing the snow around it reveals another status panel.
>The signal yesterday was static-y, and the previous inspection was put on hold on account of being snared by the previously unaccounted-for drone, who continues to follow behind quietly.
>Checking the panel, it seems the tower lost a good bit of its signal coherency last night, but this can be fixed with a couple of adjustments of its antenna.
>The Dish leans awkwardly as you watch it swing around its damaged frame, but eventually the static goes quiet and clear.
>With that, you make one last stop before you head back home, another visit to the food cellar to grab something resembling lunch.

>You have spare food at your shelter already, but you keep those mostly in case you're stuck inside due to this planet's frequent storms, and would rather not eat away at that just yet.
>Climbing inside the ruined messhall, you reach the kitchen and the short staircase leading into the cellar, inside you grab 3 cans from the mostly full racks of stored food.
>A can of beef ravioli, and two canned fruits.
>the last thing you want out here is scurvy.
>You climb back up the stairs and past the drone, who continues to watch quietly from the top, you exchange a mutually confused glare at each other as you walk past, both of you seemingly curious about the other's actions.

(4-5)

>>350959
>You reach your home shelter around this planet's equivalent of noon, and the drone isn't far behind, catching the door with its bandaged hand before you can shut it completely.
>It comes inside as well, seeming carrying its own little bag of items it has gathered.
>You sit down in your regular spot, and decide to have lunch now instead of settling into your other tasks immediately, as your meal last night didn't quite feed you right after yesterday's excitement.
>While you prepare your raviolis, the drone sits down next to the door and fishes through the bag she has, seemingly made of the same material her cloak is.
>She pulls out a roll of wire, and after examining the ends of it, begins stripping the outer coating of it with their curved knife, revealing the copper underneath.
>You watch her strip the wire as you eat, quickly inhaling the ravioli, you put the empty can down and grab the small can of mandarin’s.

>The seal of the can pops with a louder than usual noise, which catches the drones attention enough for them to stop their work, eyeing you as you fish out slices of fruit with a fork.
>Curiosity gets the better of you, and you stab a slice and offer it to the drone, you don't even know if they can actually eat or not.
>To your surprise, it seems to oblige, putting its spool down and walks up to you and grabs the piece of fruit from the end of your fork, examining it curiously before taking a small bite of it.
>The reaction was almost immediate, it seemed almost taken aback by the flavor, and basically inhales the rest of that small slice, its funny little horns twisting in a whole manner of new ways.
>’(theza onnon zjyr??? bjuttagur avor lurlom stundr?? wizja zkrinn!)’
>Another sentence of words you can't even begin to understand, but said in such a jarringly positive tone compared to its usual notes.
>She seems to like them.
>You spend the next few minutes sharing the rest of the can with the drone, then opening the other can of fruit (pears) and sharing that as well.
>It seemed far more enthusiastic about the mandarins, but this incident was the first positive interaction between the two of you that you've had since you first encountered each other.

>The rest of the day goes on as normally as it could, now with the drone in tow asking more questions and you attempting to answer them, keeping your words simple and relying more on gesturing/body language to get the point across.
>This new routine continues for days, then weeks as you get used to your new companion, who occasionally vanishes for parts of the day before returning with more questions and more scrap to strip.
>You still don't know what to call her, and your attempts to ask for a name results in her pointing to the side of her head and replying ‘Aventh-Vel’, which you don't understand at all.
>Given the cloak, and the repeated use of the word ‘Vel’ you decide to start calling her “Veil” which she seems to respond to well enough.
>Considering that both of them are probably stuck on this ice rock for the foreseeable future, I'd rather take this then be isolated with nothing but a static-y radio to talk through.
>Plus, this a great opportunity to do your job for once & try and research this strange specimen of a drone.
>She's still kinda weird though.

Name: Anonymous
Occupation: Researcher/Assistant geologist
Location: Research Facility: Point Abyssal
Population: 1 (updated): 2
Status: SOS

(5-5)
End of part 1.

This will probably be a 3 part total little story, setting wise this technically counts as a prequel to the AVRE greens, but only very VERY loosely attached via location & anon ancestry.

Should be making more stuff here soon
The worms are back.

>>350956
>>350957
>>350958
>>350959
>>350960
Oh and, in the offchance this thread gets nuked due to shitty OP, remind me to repost this onto whatever new thread pops up

>>350939

>>350937
I'll leave the links and boobs in this post.

Awesome Booru: https://dronebooru.co
Wheel of so many OCs: https://wheelofnames.com/z8q-2mf
Wheel of changing modifiers: https://wheelofnames.com/4h8-fyf
The wiki inside the really cool Booru: https://dronebooru.co/wiki_pages/original_character
The actual separate Wiki: wiki.dronebooru.co
Last thread: >>350114

Calibern scientists will see this metal and piss and shit themselves

Gonna repost links to Chuuni Uzi here
>>350872
>>350873
>>350874
>>350875
>>350876

And take the opportunity to call OP a faggot for messing up the links

>>350987
Don't worry, Tessa can take care of herself

Looks like the thread is possibly going to be nuked or something, so I'll just post this J McDonald's worker and check back later.

Human! Remain human! Support humanity! Impregnate sentinel drone!

>>350998
Sentinel Drones can help you with that

>>350924
Reposting dumb thing

>>351011
Anon... I think your roommate is just into some freaky roleplay and trying to rope you into it

>>351016
The Anons deserve a thread faster than usual, as a treat

>>351018
Actually I deserve nothing but the dirt in the ground

>>351020
>The twink dog drone gets off to pretending to be a cat
WTF

>>351023

>>351025
STOP

>>351027
Drone Ass=Drone Ass > Human Ass

arguing about it is going to be much worse than just accepting that OP was an impatient fag and the previous thread ended early
its fine, its not a big deal

>>351030
holdover of primechan culture where threadspace is in short supply

Avgdbhfbg.

>>351037
Useless piece of shit.

Every time I come to this board I am instantly filled with the desire to kiss drones...

>>351047
I assume she's at least bi considering this drawing of her kissing Elian exists.
God I wish that was me-

>>351049
Pidge is whatever Anons wan her to be

>>351050
That won't stop me from kissing AM.

>>351051
Is that so? I wonder if she'd be open to kissing my oc.

>>351027
>Uzass superior to anything

How? Uzi = smallest drone = smallest ass correct? Add to that the smell + lack of maintenance and surely Prime Lizzy Lumps would be superior, and the Doll Derriere far more so.

Pardon the shitty drawing, but have a bonus green today
Have you ever wondered… Why fridge drones never got bigger?
Size wise I mean.

Well… Let me tell you a Cautionary tale, and Heed this tale well, lest ye make the same mistakes.

>A Long LONG time ago, Maybe even… 6 months ago.
>The Man who designed the first fridge drones.
>He was a smart man, knew the in’s and outs of drone technology, enough to start building his own designs.
>There were a lot of compromises in those designs, but these were well worth the final product.
>Several variants were made, all massively profitable for his small business, but he kept getting asked the same question:
>Why are they so small?

>Truth be told, even the biggest ones were only about the height of an average worker drone.
>He game them various excuses; Software limitations, available parts, available technology, etc
>Not all were convinced, least of all his chief engineer.
>Lets call him Anon.
>Anon Was a bright lad, but at times… overambitious.
>Unstatified with his Boss’s answers, he started his own company, and set about building what he Thought would be his greatest creation.
>Using what he learned with designing fridge drones at his previous jobs, he upscaled it and created: The model T fridge.

>Up to ten feet tall and weighing nearly half a ton, this drone was meant to be a direct replacement to your kitchen’s cold storage, rather than a piece of supportive equipment the smaller drones were made to be.
>The design passed testing with flying colors, and the first batch of 500 were sold out almost immediately
>There would never be a second batch.
>While Tests yielded positive and satisfying results, the final product was pushed before longer term tests could be done, and as such, a Fatal oversight was made.
>The flaw comes from the cores of the drone, the Systems standard Drone cores, invented during Elysium-3’s Solver incursion as one of the ways they built drones highly resistant to solver infections.
>However, the cores weren't perfect. They had a few flaws, but the important one for this story being, they don't scale up well.

>The military learned this first the hard way, in (now declassified) documents that came with the first generation of mech drones, tests reported mech showing higher levels of impulsive tendencies and incoherent motives that steadily got worse as time progressed.
>As a result, many of these first gen mech prototypes went insane, and that was with constraint supervision and maintenance.
>The military got around this issue by assigning pilots to these mechs, and Gen 2 onward were given pilot seats.
>The pilots acted as a commanding force and helped stabilize the drones impulses and to provide clear objectives and orders, to great success.
>These Model T Drones… ran into the same issues, but without any of the supervision and monitoring the mechs where given.
>As a result, before even the first lawsuit could reach court, a government recall of the Model T Drones was issued, but already far too late.

>27 Model T’s where tied to missing person’s reports, and more cases of damaged or missing property or inadvertent behavior where made.
>The original creator of the fridge drones had kept them small to be manageable, as even the small ones were prone to their own over-ambions and impulses as part of their main coding to be kept supplied.
If one ever got rowdy or adventurous, you should simply pick it up and put in on time out in its recharge pad like a misbehaving toddler.
>You cant do that with something weighing half a ton, and its impulses were only amplified as a result of its size.

>Of the 500 Model T’s made, 499 were recovered.
>The last one was owned by the Overambitious Anon, who was also one of the 27 missing people.
>Noone knows the fate of Him or His creation, but it became clear his Lust for success came back to bite him in the end.
>A few model T’s are still around to this day, I know one that works in the robotics history museum as a display, cheerful women that one is.
>The rest were decommissioned and their cores put to use in other bodies.
>The ones tied to the missing person cases, where too far gone it seemed, who knows what they did with them.

>Try not to think about it too hard, unless you wish to share that same fate eh? Heh.
>May that Bastard Anon rot in Gluttony where he belongs.
>The original designer of the fridge drones took a lot of the flak from this incident, and vanished not long after, in search for answers, or maybe just his missing engineer.
>I hope he finds him, or the answers he seeks.

>Hmm.
>You run along now, and spread this warning far and wide:
“Even whales get cravings”

>>351060
>WD AM

Anon can't read

Also why assume he'd be inherently competent as a DD? AM was used to having unlimited intelligence + firepower + time on his side after all, and none of his experience as a supercomputer would translate well into the melee/run and gun combat that DDs specialize in. Might be more reasonable to assume he's substandard in head to head fighting(compensated for by a far greater tactical awareness and use of ambushes than a normal Disassembler).

Heck, might be reasonable to assume he's an inferior head-on fighter BECAUSE he uses tactics so much (suprise attacks, sniper fire, tactical retreat ect) that he dosen't have as much experience going up against roughly equal opponents: every fight is stacked so much in his favor that he struggles to grow his more "visceral" blocking/dodging/swordsmanship skills.

>>351064
Anon's a taken man! You can't have him!

>>351073
>>351074
>>351075
Don't worry! Emily managed to drag Aron back to the bunker where he is safe! He's even still alive

>>351065
>spoiler
NTA, but here's your view.

>>351079
Strawberry likes showing off her assets more than L

>>351080
>her assets.

>351083

>>351085
It's always so weird to see someone save a file with the filename I used. Makes me feel like I got dementia or something

>>351090
Begone fridge! I shall remain warm and cozy

>>351094
Very cool, I'm still going to cuddle with this drone for warmth

>>351097
Pavovian you say?

>>351063
Those are... actually pretty good points. I just assumed that becoming a DD automatically gives you some form of combat expertise, cobsidering N, V and J go from butlers/maids to brutal and efficient killing machines.

>>351065
Yeah, fair enough. I was talking about this guy. His name is Cayden and I have talked a little bit about him on these threads in the past.

potential witch: 0 NULLS 0 WINS 7 EPISODES OF JOBBERY

>>351101

>>351111
Teli!
>>351112
>Your drone wants you to paint yourself green

>>351066
Arent sentinels by classification, but share the same home planet as the reclaimers
>>351067
Mach drones are a bit wierd, but id say no, they just ran into the same issue when "making drone big"
>>351087
Its exactly as implied: An answer to a question frequently asked a warning built into said answer.
If that for some reason turns people on then they are free to share the same fate as that overzealous engineer.
>>351091
They can adjust then temp and... considering they share alot of the same tech of the more advanced fridge models, it can probably cryofreeze whatever is inside.
Unsure how that helps your discussion but it something i wanted to point out
They can also go positive and be warm... or hot... or boiling

>>351116
>Chuuni Uzi
>Well, that and the shipping autism: those fuckers AM and Shodan have been at it for a decade now

>>351115
>the production line depends on absolutely no fuckups occuring

Woe: Indians be upon ye

Oh right. I’ve got other OCs I keep forgetting to use.

>>351123
>Fb will never succeed
>the Solver groove is just too good

>>351133
Pajeetvo is a gift to the threads.

Pablo is a boymom