man i don't know i just don't do anything on here ever but like--- i want to still bring to light the idea that i write and stuff and... i'm not entirely proud of ibdb honestly so i'm just kinda gonna give this because i wrote it two nights ago and it is my favourite thing i've written in a WHILE actually essentially all you need to know is that it's this guy who's the head of this society run by robots (he invented them) Everytihng else I either can't say for lore purposes or i literally don't have yet he's in pain he got hurt
klajsdkljgalsdkghalsdhlkewlkliiii;uyiojsdklagj You’re in pain. You’re rarely in pain. Breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, your face runs hot. The memory flashes at the back of your mind and it’s like you can see it again, dancing in your vision but just out of your reach. You growl. The door opens and an android comes into the darkened room, checking your wounds, checking your vitals. You watch it, glaring at it as it bustles over to you. “Master, how on earth did you get this injury?” It speaks with as much robotic awe as it can muster, staring down at your broken body with pixelated eyes. You exhale and look back up at the ceiling, saying nothing. So it continues. “A wound like this would warrant you at least a five-day recovery.” “Of course.” Your voice is dismissive, your head tilting back to look at it. “Come closer.” It leans forward with a few quiet clicks of its mechanical body. When you move, you snap like a cobra, grabbing its neck and forcing it closer to your face. Your breathing quickens. The heart rate monitor in the corner of the room starts beeping faster, setting off several alarms. The android’s eyes widen when your grip on its neck tightens. “I do not have at least five days. I am getting out of this bed in forty eight hours, or I will dismember you myself.” You let go with a shove, knocking it off balance and making it stagger before it looks at your heart rate monitor and back to you. “Master—” “Do I need to lower it to twenty four? Or should I just take you apart now?” “No need, Master. We’re on it.” It grabs you a water, types something on the monitor to quiet its beeping, and hurries back out the door, leaving you in the darkened room. Stuck in bed. With your love off to who knows where. Hiding from you. Getting further and further away from you every second, and every second you realize one thing more and more. You need to get out of this bed and FIND THEM.
