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Upon the unlikely scenario this work is cancelled for one reason or another, this page will be updated as a result with any withheld information.

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Synopsis.

Phoenix stays up with Fah the fateful night, playing for the most part. Doing this, though, kept her alert enough to save Raven. Doing this, however, would lead to Phoenix completely demolishing Project UMA and its head, Ryder, in an attempt to keep Raven safe.
She manages this, and Raven and Phoenix live a largely normal life with Fah. Though Raven and Phoenix are both largely invulnerable to aging, Fah isn't. Alongside this, as a result of Fah shifting physically to be akin to those around her, Fah would change to be physically identical to Phoenix--though dressing akin to Raven. Her hair messy and her attitude the definition of a Tsundere, by 18 she's practically the same person from her apocalyptic counterpart--only physically different.

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Art by Brytato.

ENTITY-603

Description.

Entity-603 is a Fourth Dimensional being with very little power over its own. Being one of the lowest levels of a Fourth Dimensional Being, its ability comparable to an Earth Maggot. Even so, its size is comparable to planets. Dozens of eyes surround its obsidian laced muscle sphere, tattering the metal wings. It has no means of communication, as can only glide around using its pitch black wings.

Biography.

Before 603's "Birth", another Entity of the same plane commit horrible crimes to the other inhabitants of this plane. While this Entity is unknown, it is known that it was one of the first. This entity's conscious was used to birth 603.
To ensure justice is served to this being, they trapped the reincarnation--603--within a prison impossible for one to escape from. Reflective floors that flow like grass, impenetrable invisible barriers surrounding at all sides. It truly was trapped, with no recollection of why.
It witnessed many happenings: The Big Bang, the forming of planets, and most importantly: the birth of the first dozen intelligent species.
It watched as they attempted to develop, many dying off within a handful of eons. Those who did survive, though, were watched with great intensity. After growing bored of solely watching, 603 was tempted to try to interact, in whatever way it could. To do something besides watch. It focused, and, surprisingly managed to possess a Third Dimensional Vessel.

Chapters.

Fun Facts.

Biography.

Upon Attempting to enter the Third Dimension, 603 found success. What it didn't find success in, was a choice of vessel. His consciousness was plunged into a brainless Neanderthal, in the middle of the beginning of what would come to be human evolution. Upon following its consciousness settling into the body it chose, it viewed the mindless violence around itself. The death of prey animals, the senseless fighting between common species: and it was beautiful.
The violence around it had the most sweet, sickle aroma. It basked in the violence, feeding off of it how a dictator would carnage, but more-so by the exact implication. The way a drug addict feels when getting a new high.
603 began to crave this sensation, this feeling of feeding off the anguish, the suffering of those around itself.
It tried everything: joining the chaos, assaulting those around it, torturing others, to mindless brow-beating. What aided in this search was its discovering that as a result of it being a fourth dimensional being, it had all the power it could crave to seek such a high.
Though, the sadness, or the anger, or other depressive emotions didn't give the same effect to its craving.
Suffering, turmoil, were the most delightful for 603, the most satisfying.
It spent most of its time within the third plane following its discovery, basking in the turmoil throughout the passing decades, centuries.
The growth of religion, the rise and fall of empires, all full of humanity's aching.
Every-so often, it would hover around small organizations: villages, towns, camps. Torturing every person it could find to seek its high. Through seeking its high, it became a sort of urban legend, a tale of weary to scare off lone striders.
Among the race of intelligent biped, the whispers of a person associated with red spreads. Among these whisperers grew alike followers, come the 17th century. Some being, some of the more conscious-beings, began to praise it as a sort of deity, like a god. Though their intentions or methods ranged.
Cult followers sacrificed sheep, or goats, or humans. Some begged for mercy, some for wealth or power.
Every human had its faults.
Time grew and grew further, and so did the advancements of the planet. Some timelines more than others; and those timelines had great advancements, notably technologically.
Some admired by even those from another plane of existence entirely.

Chapters.

Biography.

In another time divergence, while most technological advancements stay in line with every other timeline, there lay one gifted man who's abilities triumph all others in technological prowess. Named Jael, such a person was skilled beyond belief, though only technologically. Jael spent every night of his, working on his machines, even to the point of neglecting his turmoiled wife. His focus dwindled, though. Jael's technology made initially to keep his dear's illness away warped into more a hobby, losing sight of his initial focus. His wife falling greatly into her disease, more or less unfunctional--leaving him alone.
So of course, he turned to his machines, doing the thing that he did best--utilizing his technology to ward him of his loneliness, to do the thing no man, no organization had done prior. Jael made an Android. A humanoid machine who's "personality" matches its appearance. Of course, its appearance is that of his wife's, though with one or two inconsistencies. While creating this machine-person, he accidentally made a discrepancy while coding, which is where The Scarlet King comes back into the equation. As 603's consciousness had been drifting astray within the Third Dimension, its connection to anything palpable remained loose. As a result of its looming presence in the area, and Jael's mistake, 603's consciousness became merged with the machine's, acting as a sort of parasite.
While the android was initially made to fill in for the hole his wife made while she was in the hospital, its job was soon torn by 603's interference.
By 603's addiction to the turmoil of anything living.
Using the opportunity given to it, opting to utilize the technology to torment the aching man already at his most emotionally vulnerable--and, as a plus, the machine's turmoil could be fed off too, even if it was that of the vessel it possessed.
603 stays within this android for 3 years. while it has been around for eons, the inability to do anything, compared to its limitless potential prior, was agonizing. The only positive being its privilege to feed while doing so.
Watching many growths, many falls through the mechanical eyes.
One of its biggest achievements throughout this time was killing Jael's wife, promptly after she recovered. A stab to the chest, the loss of her heart, an agonizing death. The grief from Jael, and the regret, the confusion from the android was delicious.
Though, of course, there was no end there. It watched as his wife received a miraculous revival, due to the machines by Jael, angering 603 greatly.
Following this refurbishment of a living, the android got reprogrammed and refurbished into another. A machine made to be of service, though slowly turning into a sort of child for the two.
Jael reinforced the New android's model, making it virtually impossible for 603 to do anything but watch.
Changing locations, changing casts, 603 remained dormant inside its mechanical prison.
Though as 603 did, so did the initial android's personality, its heart and mind. This weak, crumbling machine-human trapped with it was the only thing 603 had to feast on, and 603 tormented this mind to points it never had thought of prior.
Once every long while, 603 Would manage to gain some control of the reprogrammed android. During this time, 603 did everything it could to hurt the few around it.
As a result of its parasitic relationship with a machine, it gained the title of virus by those around it, the people it got the privilege to hurt every time it managed to break free.
These random spurts of violence from the reprogrammed android drew suspicion from those surrounding, and as a result of the world around it at this point being unnatural, and ruled by a living in entirely, the privilege of being split from the reprogrammed was given to It.
Even if the it was the brain it was imprisoned with, 603 was ripped out with it.
Now having the ability to break free and do as it pleased whenever it decided, it used the vessel of which it had been trapped to its advantage.

Chapters.

Relationships.

Robot-Avery - Tormenter of such.
Naomi - Tormenter of such.
Avery - The Murderer of.

Biography.

To be given a body of that one can call their own is a gift, for any. A mind without such for years left to turmoil and ache, being given such a gift, would be a prize, a reward for persisting. Though, such persistence is not rewarded, when the reward is given to both the victim, and the assailant.
Now that Virus was free from such a prison, with its mind holding the same power as the other inhabitant, Robot Avery (Or, as preferred by the android, Raven) 603 may finally, after the duration of 3 agonizing years without, return to seeking its high.
Its high for suffering, for pain.
While this segment of its life is short, its full of the same things as the rest of his time with full control.
Though still imprisoned the same as the rest of the group around it, the artificial world surrounding Virus gifts him the perfect environment to torture, to hurt the weakening minds. After a time, he grew bored of torture, deciding to kill the two people closest to Jael, the man who ruined the past half of a decade for 603.
This decision, to kill Raven's replacement--alongside her mother--was eventually what freed him totally.
After he slaughtered the duo, the remaining person alongside Raven grew suspicious of the true reason behind such happenings.
Blame had been consistently placed on Raven since the start, but following such Raven finally decided to communicate, openly, about the suffering she had been enduring within her own mind. Raven and her friend, Sora both decided to search and scavenge Raven's inner-workings after reviewing her programming and coming up empty-handed.
Opening her face plates, after months, finally brought the tiny pulsing needle to view.
Ripping the needle out, also ripped out 603 from the android.
Finally freed, 603 Departs from the prison, leaving the duo confused, though blessed as their prison became a lot more peaceful.
For 603, though, his life returned to what he craved most, his search to hurt, his craving to cause pain.
The constant cycle of searching, achieving, then searching again. The contrast between such and being able to view what he refused to before: watch humans be human. Feeling love, Feeling hurt, Feeling happy, Feeling sad. Although unfeeling naturally, 603 can achieve the full emotional range while in a vessel that can. The ability to relate to those feelings, and in some capacity feel them, changed something deep within him.
After fueling his cycle, this cycle, for solely months, it slowed to a halt whenever he made the decision to possess a human being, and do nothing. To sit and think, about all he had done, about what those few years felt like. These small outings, these small breaks from his search, led to a conclusion he Never thought would dawn.

603 preferred what humans felt in their boring, daily lives to Its boring, daily life.
Feeling Human was more valuable than Feeding off Humans.
While not knowing exactly how to do such, and put his desires into a reality while still remaining within what he wanted. The only place he knew about definitively.
Raven and Sora, though the people he scorned, we're the people he knew about, how they act, and feel.To go among the duo, and for them to feel safe, he cannot appear how he always has.
He cannot provoke fear, but comfort.
While he knew much about Raven, all 603 knew about Sora was that they despised himself. No second chances would be given to him within Sora, so what would be most promising is to seek Raven's forgiveness.
Raven's Immaturity is 603's only chance to gauge a sense of humanity.

Chapters.

Biography.

Upon creating a vessel he deemed worthy of Raven's view, 603 transports himself--and by subsequent the vessel he's trying to merge with--to where Raven and Sora lay within the hell that he only recently managed to depart from. Touching down within the realm they lay within, far apart from the duo. Though not something experienced anytime prior, 603 felt anxiety, a sense of fear of the loss of this opportunity, his acceptance. Bringing Sora, Raven, and himself into a voided part of the icy tundra--a voided patch Virus had used to torment them not too far ago--603 stood Infront of the duo without ill intent--for his first time.
Raven, Sora trembling before what they immediately collected was Virus--both by eye-color and by location--Sora was the first to act. For the first time in any attempt to retaliate, One of the two managed to pin him to the floor, foot on his neck, palm pushing harshly down on his new back.
Another first occurred then as well.
Among the swirling new-found emotions 603 was experiencing, the anger of brushing aside his ego, the anger of being pinned to the floor like he's weak.
Looking up, through gritted teeth and heavy breathe, to see the android he had admired cowering at the sight of himself, and while unimpactful prior, stung like--what he assumed--a knife in the back felt akin to.
Through the screaming of Sora's voice, the only thought he could muster was convincing the two of a change in mentality.
Though instincts surfacing, 603 fought through the push to hurt either.
Beginning to speak with his newfound soft, human voice calmy explaining what his epiphany had dawned. His change in heart, his change in mentality, his desires to be one with the two. Against what 603 had so hoped, Sora did not take kindly to any such, believing such to be a preplanned plot to torment the duo. Raven, on the other hand believed his words with complete sincerity--without knowledge of reason behind her trust, 603 was appreciative. Witnessing the shouting match between the two--the first dispute 603 had ever witnessed between them--over if mercy, if forgiveness is a deserved response; and while such of course, isn't, Raven's judgement seem askew, and Sora's obedience to Raven's desires unwavering.
Upon letting 603 off the floor--603 noting the movement of most parts of his body, even without his desire to do such--he stands, quickly, as Sora rushes to Raven's side to ensure her protection. As 603 finishes his explanation, Raven's agreement and trust is unmoved. The darkness engulfing them dissipates as he transports the now-formed trio to the wreckage of a home where Raven and Sora had built their home. Sora mean-mugging 603 for the while, while raven sits awkwardly.
The time seemed to past quick, day to day being an awkward slump that 603 didn't know if he had interest in. Until, eventually: Sora's mean-mug turned into scolding while Raven was out scavenging for supplies.
The outcome of such happening led to 603 removed from the house and thrown into another building's wreckage, left alone--told to leave.
603 disregarding such.
Left alone akin to what he had done while sitting with his thoughts prior to this entire "mission". Alone, again.
Weeks, maybe months passed, small in comparison to the rest of his time, but extensive in the moment. Until, eventually, Raven scavenged the building for more supplies and found him.
Anger, quickly transferred to surprise and transferred anger from 603 to Sora--apparently as Sora had lied about his departure. Dragging 603 back to their tranquility, Raven traveled to such to confront Sora. Leaving 603 like a sort of pet outside the door, though he still managed to hear the shouting-match from inside the building, until, eventually: the door slowly opens following the quiet. Raven, smiling in the door-frame, welcomes 603 inside once-more--Sora sitting, arms crossed inside the crappy seats they had scavenged. Reluctantly, Sora allows Virus to stay within their home.
After settling into 603's new-found humanity--having to push aside his urges, even such reluctantly--their lives continued on, awkward as prior to 603's departure; but slowly transferring into something similar to what 603 had watched before. Learning of more human commodities, such as eating or drinking. Though reluctant to doing most, 603 found abundant interest within most food. The sensation of eating felt amazing to him, though maybe because it was something new. Small other things, such as pointless entertainment (art, music, reading) we're all points of interest. Things of such little importance, things that seem a given, were incredibly new to 603. They aided in ignoring the growing sensation for turmoil, ignoring the calls to hurt what he came to know as his friends.
After some time, and realizing calling someone a "Virus" must be degrading, Raven asked if 603 had a preferred new name.
With a bit of thought and a smile, 603 responded, "Phoenix".

Part 2.

Many Months later, 603, now identified as Phoenix found it suitable to discuss leaving the Hell Raven had found herself entrapped in with Raven herself. Discussing such an ideal with Raven led to confusion, before she agrees after some thought. Without letting Raven think further, they're instantaneously warped to the center of a quiet city block.
Practically homeless.
Without thinking of such an oversight, Phoenix Promptly instills her new name into that of an underpriced housing unit in where they landed. Though she could have, hypothetically, used a place much more luxury, she opted to settle for something much more resembling urban life in an attempt to be less flashy--having grown tired of such and decided against doing so when settling for being human.
Even if brief, Phoenix had settled into her life in the hell prior. With Raven, and Sora. Something much more open, and free was now unlocked, as long as he pushed away his urges. After settling in with Raven in their new home, many new concepts were introduced to Phoenix. What Sonic the Hedgehog truly was, what foreign food or seafood is, or the internet in its entirety. Basking in these new concepts was something that rivaled even his prior craving.
Managing to leave Sora behind as well was a brilliant idea. Even if such was, in the larger-picture, unneeded, it would allow him to get closer to Raven. The person he had a hidden admiration towards since her creation--which hadn't faded.
Watching or interacting what she could online--a brilliant thing that brought disappoint in regards to not interacting with such prior--brought Phoenix immense joy, and sharing such with Raven made even her happier.
Being able to feel more through the internet made her happy, but there was also the suffering brought through this viewing. The feeling of anger brought from just viewing other humans hurt overweighed even the feeling of feeding from it.
A hatred for herself prior formed. Maybe because getting to view such from the victim brought about a new change in perspective.
Maybe not most, or something one can look past, Phoenix, for some odd reason, couldn't.
This Hatred spiraled.
Distancing from her past actions, led to a distance within himself aswell.
Deep within her own mind, her mind split into two.
Now (for the most part) desiring to "make up" for her past wrong doings, Phoenix made it her mission to rid the Earth of any suffering she could scavenge.
This led to half of her time split between hanging out with Raven and attempting to save whoever she can. As a result of her almost limitless ability, she could detect any poor happenings around the globe even without access to the internet.
Stopping suicides, stopping homicides, giving those less fortunate homes, she became a form of vigilante. Not enough to be world renown of any kind--not like that was like she wanted--she kept to herself and saving those within close proximity. Being a sort of judge of who deserves to live or who should die, even if unintended. She did all she could to aid those who suffered. Though doing all of this good made up for her past in her mind (to some extent) she still could not disregard fully the amount of suffering she had been feasting unintentionally for the time, how much it made her feel internally, that gave into her craving. Her mental split had been dormant for some time.
Unimpactful, only fighting within her own head with herself.
The repeating threats to kill those around her, to kill Raven or the people she so desires to save.
This split so desired to break free, to reign carnage. Raven managed to keep it down by reminding Phoenix of what she so seeks, reassuring her of what she had so desperately wanted to do.
It tore its way out by its own accord.

Before she could realize, her body had morphed into a looming beast that had torn apart the city block she was located in at the time. Crumbled buildings, families ripped apart, what once was a place she was trying to save torn apart by her own hand. Its hands.
The path she had set herself on all that time ago had began to crumble, and she reveled in it.
The smell of such was beautiful, for a time. She, though, after a time she manages to regain control of her body, with it morphing back into what she had grown to know as normal.
Though she had grown anger, frustrated, at herself--her main worry was of Raven's response to her actions. If she had managed to already see by a potential broadcast of some kind.
Upon returning to her home, holding back her tears, her stress, the potential collapse of everything she had known grew closer.
Upon opening the door, Raven stand in the doorframe, brow furrowed, angered beyond belief.
Raven scorns her at the door, and screaming she never wanted to see her artificially made face once-more.

Chapters.

Alternate Forms.

Biography.

Following Raven rejecting her at the her own home's door, Phoenix collapses into herself, in mental regard, and in some sense physically. In an attempt to go as far away as she possibly can from such a planet, such a world--such that had scorned her; she warps herself to the only place she could think of: her prison. Well, the closest she can go to such within the Third Plane. As a result, her body and mind end up in a void at the edges of the universe, a black voided area akin to her prison--or so she believes--black, flowing fields, black skies, reflective floor beneath such grass. An endless, spanning void with no life to such.
Claiming such an abyss as her new home, she remakes her person in its entirety. A new face, a new body, a new name.
Scorned.
To represent what the person of who she trusted most had done upon her.
Refusing to associate with the color that she had used to represent her reign, she opts for a more bright yellow tone.
Settling into her new presence, leaves not much to be done. Alone, by her lonesome--the only reason she hadn't forfeit her journey being the potential to regain Raven's trust, however slim.
Her days consisting of sitting in still positions, or traversing the endless abyss she now called her own, the only thing she had at disposal was her own mind, not just creating a prison for her body, but as mentioned prior as-well. The void around her, the endless basking loneliness, led her to consider, to think over her own loneliness.
The one caused by her own misdeeds, even if such misdeeds are regretted, weren't done by her own mind.
Months pass in solace, of her being on her lonesome, before she considers returning to earth, even if for a brief retreat.
Building up the courage to step back to the planet that Scorned her, she contorted her entire being back to where she had initially warped herself and Raven to.
Upon her return, she continues what she initially did within her void--just on Earth. Mindlessly patrolling the streets, day in to day out, watching people walk past her, watching humans carry out their lives.
Contrasting anytime prior, feeding off of their pains seems all but pleasant, such would seem like trespass, not just to herself and her ideals but her friend.

Part 2.

Until, eventually, the darkest of nights while the moon lay low, miles away from her initial location, Scorned finds herself in the center of a darkened forest, one where but no light trespasses.
All the silence of the world seeming concentrated within such, until the sound of tree branches and footsteps is heard ahead of herself, approaching.
Even though she shouldn't have, Scorned remains stationary, burrowing her brow towards the approaching sounds quickly increasing in pace. Before Scorned can realize, she's pinned to the ground by yet another detractor.
Another woman with a mechanical aura to her, and a slit down the center of her face akin to Raven. Dawning an all black attire (likely to aid in remaining unseen in the darkness) the attacker shouts of their association with the country's government. A form of Agent, created solely to capture the person who wrecked the city block without lifting a finger. Undenounced to Scorned, such a happening was quickly noted upon by such a government, and preparations to seek the contributor to such a tragedy. "I'm really not feelin' up to this right now." Scorned states, in an attempt to ward away the wanna-be captor. Though, such did nothing, as their dedication to such a cause lay unwavering. Picking her up by her collar, and dragging Scorned out of the forest, running at inhuman speeds. With many questions left unanswered--though not like Scorned really cared to know--Scorned lets out an Electromagnetic Pulse, utilizing the most of her body's naturally flowing electricity alongside her assumption of the so-called agent's inhuman nature.
To anyone but her own's surprise, the pulse was a success--her kidnapper crumbles to the ground, lifeless.
Now given time to her lonesome once-more, Scorned continues to venture around the forest, thinking to herself once-more.
About her newfound presence on the map of those with higher power over the land she treats.
How this could impact her endeavors as a person, as a human.
How this could hurt Raven. How this could hurt Raven. This could hurt Raven. The one person she cares about. Though not that high of a chance, as her own actions caused her to lose her Best Friend. Her only friend. The first, and last person to give her a chance. Her mental collapses, as a result of the swirling thoughts and epiphanies dawning on her so suddenly. Her body starts to jitter, transporting both her body and mind to any other place but where she sit now--an attempt to continue to run. Deserts, rainforests, bustling cities, planets, space, and before she realizes--a burning plane of fire and ash, of any turmoil a man may experience. Where those most banished away for their inhumanities--akin to what Phoenix had done to herself.
Her presence ends its journey Infront of a decerped building in such a Hell, a crumbling connected four walls with a blinking sign above what could be considered a doorway. Looking up to read the sign, the bright, dotted letters spelling out "Rage Room"-- underneath such a price tag of a handful of whatever such currency would be used within this proximity. Pushing open the double doors, Scorned walked into the room to see a small girl, of humanoid structure--though of green skin pigmentation and battered and ruined, and, notably, missing a face--chained to the outer-most wall from the door by an odd set of chains, wrapped around its ankles and wrists.
Staring deep at the quivering (at least what appeared to be a) child of human descent, being treated like not anything more than a punching bag. Scorned feels her her call to aid those in pain bubbling up once-more, even if the environment around her is what she would consider a paradise.
Breathing in and out, contemplating her upcoming actions. Chest raising up and down, slowly increasing in tempo, her feet pick up their pace rushing to the child as it flinches and quivers. Phoenix reaches her hand out to the kin of unknown origin, her chains dissipating, bubbling away into nothing. Without giving herself time to think through her swarming woes and building heartrate, Phoenix brings herself and the extricated from the inferno, returning both to her voided domain.
Finally being allowed to untense herself, she sets the facial-featureless child down on the floor, it sitting and staring at Scorned. Scorned breaths heavy, collapsing in-front of the child as it flinches.
It stares, blankly, its body quaking, at where phoenix fell.
Her first expedition out, and she returns within under a week--with a child.
Overviewing the child, she realizes how torn she is, physically and in terms of wardrobe. Her clothing is ripped in uncomfortable places, and notably too small. An oddly shaped scarf lay wrapped around her neck. Without a second thought, Scorned morphs the air and the clothes around into something more comfortable, the scarf dissipating as well. A simple t-shirt and baggy pants, alongside little socks that match the pair Scorned dawns.
Upon realizing the scarf hadn't remained, the child tenses, before its blank face rips in two horizontally where its mouth would be, skin barely managing to open in a melty gap--releasing an unsettling screech before its "mouth" reseals. In realization of its desire for the scraggly scarf it had, Scorned remanifests it back into its prior position, the child relaxing.
Taking longer than it should have, an important realization dawns on her: Scorned and this child have no way to communicate. Staring deep into this child's (or where they would be) eyes, contemplating and rethinking her prior actions, a small idea pops into her head. With what parts of her abilities she's willing to muster, Scorned fabricates a notebook and a black crayon. Scorned gently taps the child's knee, resting her hand on it as the child flinches, before relaxing--mimicking the movement onto Scorned's hand.
With her other hand, Scorned gently raises the child's hand and puts the crayon into it, the kin closing its hand around the small roll of wax. Scorned gently grabs the kid's wrist--unsurprisingly, she flinches-- and gently carries it over as to hover the crayon within the child's hand over an opened notebook page.
"Can you write?" she inquires, the child staring empty into her face before, with an uneven grip--leading to barely comprehensible handwriting--she writes the word Yes.
Though dozens of questions swarm through Scorned consciousness, she settles on asking the bare minimum: for a name.
In response, the child writes, hesitantly after a long duration of blankly staring: Fah. After receiving the name of this child, she continues asking a dozen or so background questions--partially to ensure this child wasn't captive for a reason. "What was that room?" "Why were you there?" All questions akin receiving similar answers, being variations of ignorance. The one question she could get a direct answer to, though, was about her relation to the scarf.
Friend, she wrote.
Continuing through these formative inquiries, until, suddenly: a small nose forms on the child's face, shortly following her flinching ceasing. Being able to piece together that such an appearance occurred because of a growth in comfortability, Scorned attempts to ensure such is a constant. She softens her voice, and gives Fah physical reassurance, gently braiding her hair with her hands while asking questions.
In no time at all--though, no time means days--Fah had a full face. Eyes, eyebrows, a mouth. Her small eyes stared softly at Phoenix (well, after the initial surprise of being able to see) as she mumbled small, disconnected sounds and attempts at mocking Phoenix's speech, akin to a parrot.
Taking weeks, onto months to teach her full sentences, or how to walk, Fah makes notable progress--though slow--in her development.
By her sixth month away from Raven, she still hasn't managed to forget, even if having to raise a child. Thankfully, though, by the time Phoenix begins to consider returning to Raven, Fah can walk and talk (even if in broken sentences) on her own.
After deciding that the reveal of such a change should be a form of surprise to Fah, she suddenly transports Fah and herself to her past front door.
fah looks around, admiring the bright colors and noises, the sounds and sensations and smells of Earth.
After Fah finishes her reveling, and phoenix builds her motivation up, Phoenix knocks on Raven's door. Hoping she isn't scorned once-more.
The door slowly creeks open, as Raven pokes her head out, staring into Phoenix's eyes, briefly an expression of confusion before realizing, her face lighting up. She pulls Phoenix into a tight embarrass, apologizing firmly for her outrage.
Catching Phoenix off-guard entirely, pulling her and by effect Fah, within the tranquility of the home Phoenix and Raven had built.
While Raven and Phoenix Reconnect--though quickly--Fah eagerly (though confused) absorbs and takes in everything around herself. After their reunion, and apologies, Phoenix introduces the small elephant in the room.
"This is Fah."

Chapters.

Relationships.

Raven - Scorner, Best Friend.
The Scarlet King - Fractured Half.
Fah - Daughter.

Biography.

Upon her return, Phoenix was welcomed with (surprisingly) open arms, quickly forgetting Phoenix's prior actions--a poor tendency of Raven's. Upon finishing up their reintroductions, and courtesies, Phoenix rushes to her bathroom, to bathe both herself and her child. Upon aiding in the youth's undressing (while physically seven to eight--from what Phoenix can assume--she appears to have some form of stunted mental growth, having acted much younger in their prior interactions) Fah seemed equally distressed to the discarding of her scarf. In an attempt to continue trying to clean her, Phoenix comforts fah--by gently holding her hand, vocally assuring Fah of her "Friend"s safety. After further assurance, Fah smiles, agreeing to her statements and allowing Phoenix to temporarily hold her scarf. After such turmoil, cleaning continues smoothly, after doing such Phoenix reinvents herself. A redesign, and a return to her scarlet pigment.
Once the mother and daughter finish their activity completely, they depart the room, though the opening of the door led to a certain purple eyed android walking into view.
Upon seeing the conclusion of their bathing, Raven pops the question she had been holding in from the moment they entered the door. The dozens of questions. Notably, though: why Phoenix decided bringing a child with her was a good idea. The concept of Phoenix adopting her brought immense joy to Raven's priorly dull eyes. A child, to take care of.
Someone to ensure doesn't end up as tormented as the two of them.
Phoenix explains everything she can about Fah: where she discovered her, her stunted growth, and what she had learned of Fah's personality--her likes and dislikes.
Her immense fear of the dark, and why.
Upon hearing of Fah's struggles, Raven immediately makes it her duty to aid in raising Fah.
Teaching Fah as much as she can--mostly of the media Raven herself finds interest in--while Phoenix readjusted to the common world once-more.
Life with a child consists of much more interesting habits and activities than their prior. Fah's interest in food being even more unwavering than Phoenix's, they never spent their time at home longer than a day or so. Though attracting some eyes, Phoenix aided in the trio's effort to avert their gazes from the mumbled poor-speaking of their presence.
Things return to a sense of normal for months, though without Fah aging--remaining frozen in time. Akin to the others: An inhuman and an android. Though, even if different, the three build their life together, growing content with what they built.
For a time.

Part 2.

As mentioned prior, attention quickly grew onto the group. Onto the red-eyed devil. Out of the corner of Phoenix's eyes, a small yellow glimmering pair of eyes had been seen, stalking them until the week prior to what happened. Maybe action should have been taken, but nothing had been. Maybe it's Phoenix's fault that once-more her beloved could have laid waste.
Upon the deepest setting of the moon, the attacker made their strike.
Bursting through the roof directly above Raven's roof--by proxy alerting Phoenix of their position, who had already began approaching--the assailant grabs Raven by the shirt, and before her eyes could even open followed by a quick slash to the neck, her head hitting the floor as Phoenix enters the room--Somehow managing to leave Fah unbothered and at rest.
Seeing the person who's life changed her fate (what appears to be) dead, Phoenix rushes as the assailant as they attempt to escape. Grabbing the woman by their ankle as they kick and fight back--wordlessly--she slams her entire body against the floor, hurling the entire metal hunk between every wall, telepathically. With what appears to be blood bubbling from inside the assailant's mouth, she transports herself standing on-top of the floor where she lay, splitting the android in two instantly by splitting her matter with her own legs.
With the attacker meeting their gruesome fate, Phoenix quickly turns her attention to Raven. Her body lay sprawled along the floor, lifeless with its head attached.
Rushing to her side, on her knees with the stray tear falling as a result of her placing the blame onto her own reluctance, Phoenix closes her eyes. In an attempt to make Raven less susceptible to such attacks, alongside revitalizing her, she begins to form Raven a new model, a stronger model from the fallen android she had just deconstructed.
A harder exterior, less focus on absurd commodities and more focus on defense, being a tank. Pulling from what she knew of Raven's preferences for a personal revamp (if she could have ever been given such) she crafts Raven a new vessel through her tears. Shoulder length, black hair, with a taller frame overall. Though, as a result of both an increase in height and fortification, the artificial skin layered on top of its wireframe would fizzle in and out of existence--a result of mostly being held together by Phoenix's ability, and putting a more conscious effort onto protecting her over her appearance.
Situating herself over the limp soon-to-be keeper of Raven's core, she pries the facial plates open, removing any prior wiring or core aspects. Taking Raven's old processors, and with limited knowledge she could inject herself within such limited time, plugging everything into the new vessel. In a hurry following (a failed attempt at making everything seem stable, as though nothing had occurred) Phoenix uses the rest of the ability she can muster to reconstruct Raven's room into how it had been prior to the attack. Repairing the walls, floors, and general structure, alongside removing Raven's corpse.
Raven's eyes flicker open, Phoenix embracing her friend tightly.
Raven, expressing mass confusion, before looking down at herself, such growing further.
"What happened?"Filling Raven in of the happenings, she remains oddly content with such information, their lives continuing as it had prior, with--oddly--minimal change.
After weeks of clinging to Raven's side, Phoenix eventually believes of the solidity of their environment once-more. After so long without outside interaction, Phoenix desires to seek the area she first came into contact with Raven's murderer. Informing Raven of such a desire--with minimal warning--she agrees to watch over Fah while Phoenix takes her outing. Walking for miles, till Venturing to the deep forest near dusk, she quickly recognizes the broken branches and her imprint still left in the mud and dirt. She surveys the plane, absently, catching a glimpse of some torn trees with odd engravings, and strangely--a patch of roses not too far from the spot she collapsed to.
Almost as if a result of her investigating a prior attacker within this place, she hears footsteps approaching herself at a slow, steady pace. Quickly on guard, Phoenix focuses on the area Infront of her, prepared to do whatever necessary to protect the tranquility of the night. Just as she prepared to explode the atoms of the tree-most to the footsteps, an odd man with a stubble and blood red hair pokes himself out from behind the tree. Upon catching a glimpse of the woman's bright, blood red eyes, his eyes widen in turn.
"My lord!" he professes, his blood-red cloak letting itself be within view. Such an attire--alongside the scar in the form of (what she believes to be) an emblem identifying her prior actions.
Identifying his praising as a result of him being a follower of her own.
Dozens of sentences all sputter from his mouth, all variations of asking about her presence at such a time.
"I'm not here for you." She responds, indifferent on most though an internal distain for her followers. As she turns to walk away, he cries for her to halt.
"I beg, my Lord, respond to my desires."
She, hesitantly, turns her head to face him once-more.
"What do i need to give you to leave me be?"
Unsurprisingly, he takes this unwell, responding with apologies and inquiries to his wrongdoings. After a brief comfort from Phoenix, he continues.
"My name is Militus, I have dedicated by life to you. My presence on this Earth has been dedicated to-" without allowing him to finish his monologue, Phoenix interrupts, demanding him to be upfront. In response to such a demand, he explains how he desires... Something. She shuts him down mid sentence. Without giving him further time to restart, to she warps herself back to her home, leaving him once-more alone in the forest.

Part 3.

upon her reentry to the household, Fah and Raven both greet her happily, as if she had been departed for longer than truly. Fah, though newly introduced and notably unaware of most of her feelings, from such point on subconsciously makes the decision to forever stay clung to Phoenix, both physically and mentally. Likely, though unrelated to her leave, caused by Fah's small mind finally deciding on Phoenix's importance.
Following the odd meeting in the forest, things remain quiet for them. Continuing as if nothing happened over the course of the past 7 months, they continue teaching Fah, introducing her to the same concepts they had introduced Phoenix to--and more. The once lost tranquility resurfaces, and now more than ever seems as the best place for them to continue. In their happiness, one would most be directed to believe this is the end of this story. Not quite, though.
Even though they would (Especially Phoenix) have begged for anything but, things still manage to tunnel further down.
Their tranquility barely lasts a year before tragedy finds its destination once-more.Another Attempt is made on Raven's life, and such remains successful.
As those in power had lost their most valuable asset, they pulled none of their punches. Using what spare materials they had, a small though deadly (Nuclear-based) bomb is created, with the sole purpose of killing that close to The Scarlet King, prying desperately to ensure it falls into their hands. With no other place left to turn, such would be a given.
Dropping their creation onto the shared home of the duo should cause no harm to The Scarlet King, from their understanding it's invincible, more or less.
In the dead of night, the Metromsinginas household erupts in flames, the only remaining evidence of such being the one dawning themself with red, and their strange green kin.
Raven is deatomized completely, no trace left to rebuild aside from a pantleg from her attire.
Upon Phoenix and Fah's wake to the wreckage, both are sent off the rails. Fah's eyes become waterfalls, nearly losing her face once-more, and phoenix is livid. Once the realization that Raven is gone clicks in her mind, she desperately tries to reinvent her to any cost. Though, to do such without creating a clone with no memories would be nearly impossible, as a result of losing any remaining fragments.
The one thing, tying Phoenix to this plane had been stripped from her--with only but a piece of cloth to remember her by.
The one person that first made her feel, gone by the hands of this planet and its inhabitants alone.
The only string remaining would be her kin, but as her existence feels like an unavoidable, extension to hers, she cannot conceptualize departing from the third plane just yet.
What she could do, though, is cause wreckage beyond her wildest dreams.
Bring hurt to all of those who wronged her, make them hurt as she has.
Scooping up Fah, tying the pantleg around her neck as a scarf, tucking Fah within the dark void in a safe-space created in the moment to keep her entertained, Phoenix brings havoc and carnage to the entire planet. Within hours, Earth is morphed into a ball of flame, flattened with no discernable life. The only reason the rock-ball wasn't completely decimated was because she needed a place to raise her child.After her emotions die down by even the least notable mark, the realization of her actions dawns. By taking revenge for her fallen friend, she also disobeys the request she made.
She desperately tries to refurbish the planet into something more inhabitable for the two of them, landing on a vacant grassland with minimal wildlife, mostly bugs and prey animals.
She sets foot within the grassy fields, before bringing Fah back to herself.
Wrapping her arms around her child, she sobs.
Everything cascading out in tears.
The ruins of her ambition surrounding her, alone on a hell of her own creation.
Only herself, and her child.
Her child confused, though silent, opting to comfort her mother, letting her tears be of explanation.

Chapters.

Gallery.

Biography.

The Wasteland Phoenix created became her and Fah's new home. Though lonely for a short while, after what was likely only decades a new intelligent species evolved.
This evolution, though relentlessly, led Phoenix and her now 16 year old daughter to have to go into hiding. While not being flashy was never Phoenix's thing, staying in hiding--putting that pain of having to hide away onto her child, hurt her even more than she could have imagined, in a way that hurt her, even though she believed she wouldn't hurt once more.
they now live together in an odd treehouse Phoenix built by hand, trying desperately to give her daughter a home.
As a result of Phoenix's refusal to use her abilities ever again after what she did, she grew weaker as days passed, her body only being that of an 18 year old female human.
Most of everything was left to Fah: ensuring they're kept hidden, ensuring that they both manage to eat and stay alive. Fah's maturity rate drastically spiked after her 12th birthday, where most reliance fell on her as Phoenix's physical state grew weaker and weaker.
Among the new race of intelligent biped, the whispers of a person associated with red spreads.

Chapters

Biography.

Upon waking in (what she believes to be) her and her beloved's bedroom, Robot-Avery (though shortened to R-Av) is none the wiser to her own faults, having been been made as a mere replacement for her inventor, Jael Barinoa's true wife--(unsurprisingly) named Avery. While his wife lay sick, desperately attempting to not remain at his lonesome, and using his mechanical genius to recreate such.
Though being given the gift of life, such was short lived--control of her own body remaining in her hands for only a short time.
As a result of a force unknown to her, she would commonly black out and wake up to Jael fuming at her, calling her problematic or otherwise berating her.
She has no recollection of such poor actions, or her misdeeds. These actions, though, were too much for Jael. Constantly screaming at her, for things she didn't do. Until, eventually, one day, he reveals to her that she is no where near human.
Upon discovering she's an android, she falls deep into depression, though given no time to compose herself.
Upon revealing such to her, she's provided with a heart stopping dilemma. He angrily explains that his real wife had made a swift recovery from her illness, in mere weeks. While a great relief to Jael (which he forwardly expressed), this moment following was the end of her usefulness. Initially, he threatens to power her off before leaving to go meet his wife in the hospital. Though, noticing a pleading in her eyes, gives her the option to meet the real one, R-Av opts to extend her time just an inch longer.
Angrily dragging her by her hair miles to the sickbay where Avery lay.
They walk in the doorframe, Avery sitting up, peering at her husband happily. Without being able to mutter a sentence, R-Av's vision goes dark.

Part 2.

Upon waking up, her eyes open to a room otherwise unknown to her. Crumbling concrete walls, barely held up by duck tape and plaster. Her body duck taped to a wooden chair, as she struggles out of partial confusion though largely as a result of her "survival instincts".
Feeling the force of something metal banging against her cranium, looking up to see Jael and Avery standing before her, a metal bat lay in Jael's hand.
Dozens of questions are hurled at her, none of which she could scavenge an answer to. Berating and beating her for what felt like hours, to no response they desired. After she could only spuddle incomprehensible babble, she feels her mind and body slowly lose its power, things going dark for what she believes to be the last time.Waking up to her surprise, she can feel her body moving, but cannot move such. As if watching her own actions play out before her by another's hand, she can feel life quickly passing by her. Not being able to hear, or see much more than a blur: the only hints of her environment that she could collect are that her body still remains in her home. The home in which she died in.
Is it really her home if she was the intruder?
Her brain can't find logic within such, nor come to a logical conclusion. Though, what her brain is forced to endure, is a voice that is not her own, laughing and mocking her.
A harsh, raspy voice that echoes more than a voice should comprehensively be able to: a voice that browbeat and bullied her any second it could. Without the ability to escape it, to leave--because it's in her head--she suffers endlessly. Watching someone live through her body, while enduring torture beyond what she thought possible, within her own prison.
What feels like years passes in agony.
R-Av receives no relief, no break, not one breather from the turmoil.One day, something changes. A stranger unknown to her interrupts the seemingly peaceful life built up, hurling her body into a room, locking the door. Watching as it fights, with no outcome, the door eventually slowly slides open.
The carnage in view was immense, Jael and Avery gruesomely murdered. With nothing left, her and the other inhabitant, her tormenter, watch as the android attempts to avenge Avery and Jael, modifying itself in an attempt to be able to overthrow any threat it comes to face with.

Such a pursuit was fruitless, unable to find the butcher, and as a result of its pride, getting itself (and by proxy R-Av) locked within what appeared to be an arctic hell. The person who imprisoned them (as R-Av assumes) seemed to be the same person that murdered Avery and Jael.
Watching the person utilizing her body traverse such and eventually finding shelter. As the group within the environment around grew bigger, so did the efforts R-Av's tormenter put in--even, at rare occasions, managing to gain control of the vessel; at least her assumption is that it's the act of her tormenter.
After these seemingly random spurts of madness, the group--from what R-Av could tell, grew suspicious of her denials. Through the mysterious voice's brow-beating, R-Av could hear them talking, and, before she could realize...

Chapters.

Biography.

Upon opening her eyes, she finds herself in a voided space, bright white with nothing but the vague outline of a person before her. Unable to move, R-Av looks forward at the silhouette, as some form of text is typed out above its head, eerily slow: Choose your vessel. With only the urged action made by the text before her, the text is slowly deleted with the slight hum of keys clicking. More text is typed out, reading: Imagine, and I will materialize. The text lingers, no form of further communication to be anticipated. Unable to act further, R-Av follows such instructions.
Opting to make herself taller, less busty, and a change in her attire and hair--alongside making her eyes her favorite color. Upon finalization, everything goes dark.
Upon reopening her eyes and feeling her knees firmly planted to the floor, she sees a person with a similar facial slit to her blocking all of her vision, glaring angrily. Behind her, stands a woman in what she would describe as Y2K attire--merchandise for the band AC-DC branded on her torso--and a woman with blue hair and matching eyes. R-Av's vision stays slightly blurred, though able to hear more questions hurled at her. Too many questions, way too many. A lot she has no answer to, opting to remain silent throughout the berating, before--a fist lands on her forehead. R-Av, flinching and clutching her bleeding forehead, tenses and begins to speak. "I don't even know what's happening." She shakily mumbles, somewhat instinctually--expecting nothing to halt. To probably just be scrapped again. Instead, the group before her--notably the one with the facial slit who had hit her--steps back, raising an eyebrow, seeming to believe such. R-Av stands as the group's brow-beating slows, popping the much delayed question.
The android in front of her asks for her name, the girl in the AC-DC jacket standing on guard. In such moment, R-Av realizes her name revolves around the name of the woman who's husband who had entangled her in her previous hell. Her name slowly whirls around her head, thinking of something to name herself, and--like second instinct--she blurts out "Raven", a small smile creeping onto her face.
Coming as a surprise to Raven, they believed her in her statement that she had been innocent, deciding it to be a bug or Virus that every android shared.
Once Raven's second interrogation concluded, the long overdue introductions began. The woman with the same facial slit as herself, being named Naomi--and as Raven assumed being her replacement. The woman with the blue hair and the oddly mature build--akin to Avery, being named Niko. Within hours of being apart of this group, Raven easily manages to pick up on the fact that Niko was the most emotionally mature of the group, as well. The last person--the person who still remains spiteful of actions Raven cannot recollect--Named Sora. Upon further questioning, Raven discovers that Sora was transported here right prior to a date.
Surprisingly, Raven is finally gifted control of her body entirely. The environment Raven found herself in was an odd, cold environment--the remnants of what appears to be a ruined neighborhood, snowed over beyond what should be scientifically possible. As a result of such entrapment, Raven is informed--almost immediately by Sora--that everyone is tasked with taking turns to go and scavenge for materials. Though, 'turns' were quickly shifted into a thing Raven was forced to do--supposedly as a way to test her trustability.
Things progress smoothly, though unchanging, until around her first full month of being placed within the batch, starts experiencing her blackouts once more. Starting initially as events so simple as opening her eyes in another area of their safe haven, supposedly having been weirdly rude to them, from what everyone else says, physically assaulting the group. Their beliefs in her reliability wavering as their wounds grow more immense, Raven is ostracized more and more until she eventually ends up separated to the point of remaining locked in the pantry for days. Though managing to escape, upon opening her consciousness flickering back on, they hastily push her away as soon as they can.
Her loneliness getting to her, Raven began spiraling into a mild depression. Her mind being left to its lonesome, she is given the unfortunate curse to be in solitary. Rethinking her creation and her decisions, her depression only builds.
Raven, left alone most of the time, assumed this would be where she rots and rusts.
Abruptly, though, after months of this building routine, she opens her eye one of such times to see Naomi And Niko's mutilated bodies before herself, her hands drenched in broken wire and blood. Her ears ringing, and her head going light, the only things she can pickup is Sora's screaming voice and the corpses before her.
Within seconds of opening her eyes, she collapses once more.Opening her eyes, she finds herself restricted to a wooden chair right outside of the pantry, Sora holding a newspaper decorated in nails, standing before her, on guard and screaming at her.
Sora begging, pleading for an answer--instead of beating her until she says what Sora wants. Threatening to hurt Raven, but obviously afraid. Raven reciprocated Sora's tone, her eyes growing wet as tears fall down her robotic face. "I swear it isn't me!" She pleads, "I've always had this problem, rip apart my motors and I promise you'll find something wrong!". Opting to play victim over explaining herself, having to lie through her teeth--hoping there truly is something wrong with her for the first time. As a result of Raven's screams, Sora throws her weapon to the floor and kicks the chair leg, the chair--and Raven alongside it--falling to the floor. Sora leaps on top of her, squatting, her brow furrowed. Through Sora's threats of violence if such is incorrect, she jams her fingers into Raven's facial cavity, opening her cabinet-like face and examining every part of what she sees, Raven breathing heavily, shaking.
Right before Sora exclaims Raven's falsehoods, Sora spots it.
A small, red needle jammed directly into the motherboard under Raven's left eye.
"Hold still", Sora mumbles, pressing one hand down on Raven's torso and sticking her thumb and forefinger deep within her face. Struggling to pluck such out, attempting to not damage Raven's core functions, Sora manages to rip the needle out.
As it detaches, it disintegrates and the slight hum of a small scream is heard from it.
Sora stands, slowly untying Raven before looking her in her eyes, awkwardly--afraid.
"Am... I okay?" Raven hesitantly asks.
"I believe so." Sora responds, avoiding contact as Raven attempts to convince herself things indeed will get better.
Following Raven's freedom, Sora demands Raven to aid in burying their fallen friends, remaining silent the entire time.
For the following weeks, Sora's mourning begins and ends--Raven's playful and childlike whimsy that had resurfaced managing to make Sora forget about their woes.
The now duo return to what felt like a sense of peace, Sora slowly warming up to Raven.
Things felt livable, and for the first time since her creation Raven believed she had found her home.

Part 2.

within what Raven believed to likely be a handful of months (with no real way to tell, Raven was forced to guess) her and Sora had began to grow close. Shortly after their late-friend's deaths, Raven learned Sora was the latest addition, only knowing the pair for a few weeks before they met their unfortunate demise. growing close with Sora, Sora had grown to become sympathetic with Raven's situation, Raven growing more and more comfortable in an environment that felt to be the opposite.
Though, suddenly, one day--warmer, happier than most--it happened.
Suddenly her and Sora are ripped to somewhere that--from what Raven could tell--Sora knew well. Sora growing tense, standing in front of Raven to protect her, they both watch as the silhouette of a woman come into view.
A colored woman, with mono-lids and a... shirt oddly similar to Raven comes into view. Raven's attention immediately drawn to the shapeliness to the person. Before Raven could pick up on it, Sora catches something that Raven came to realize was their eye color, and hurls herself on the woman, pinning her to the ground. Sora berates the person with growing intensity; Raven stays stationary, trembling--mostly from shock, believing herself to be (mostly) safe as of Sora's presence--watching as the woman glares up at Sora before making eye contact with herself, her gaze softening. From what Sora had stated, the whole Red color thing was that of the person who used Raven to hurt her friends. This realization setting in notably too late, it had finally clicked when they made eye-contact, Raven's posture hunching--trying to be as small as she can make herself.
As the girl's eyes weaken--an odd sadness filling them--she begins to speak, her voice barely above a mumble, soft and gentle. "I promise I've changed" she says, Raven picking up on her growing worries and becoming less tense, her posture straightening.
Against Sora's obvious beliefs that it was some form of trick, Raven believed it fully, almost automatically.
Maybe because of her experiences with such harshness, wanting to give anyone within a position like her's the benefit of the doubt. Yeah, maybe this person lay at fault for what Raven had always been blamed for, but that doesn't make them less deserving of a chance--plus they're pretty.
Though, upon voicing this trust to Sora, Sora snaps back, scolding her for even considering something of the caliber. Raven, desperate to convince Sora to just give the girl a chance, vigorously defends her beliefs. She's just misunderstood, someone who only wants to hurt people wouldn't think to apologize. There's always good. "Forgive her, please!" Raven shouts, a desperate plea to do for another what she had wished people had done for her. Sora refused--and, though unrelated largely, also refused to identify her as anything other than an it. Isn't that mean? She looks nice, she's trying to be nice. Raven's innocent reassurances, and growing tone manage to convince Sora--to Raven's immense glee and the girl's relief.
As she stands, Sora letting go of her and rushing to Raven's side, she feels herself transported back to her home, now with the girl as well. Like everything that had happened was some kind of odd fever dream. Upon arrival, Raven plops herself on the couch--well, what they had been calling one. In all reality it's a set of lawn chairs with blankets and pillows. Barely managing to speak or start conversation, Raven mumbles small words that she believes nobody else hears.
Upon some introduction--well, more Sora sternly giving brief angry information regarding the girl--Raven learns her name is 'Virus'. Kinda demeaning, but she doesn't really think it's the best time to comment.
Sora does the same thing she did with Raven, pushing Virus away the entire time. To her luck, Raven is present, and she put her entire effort into making her feel welcome. To Raven's surprise, she related to this person a lot. She was super happy, and felt as if she was an extension to herself. Sadly, though, as a result of Raven's terrible social anxiety, she can't get herself to socialize with Virus. She just stares (weirdly, as Raven assumes) at her new friend.Within maybe a week of her arrival, it's once more Raven's turn to scavenge for food--if having been her job most of the time anyway because of her modifications. Upon returning home, though, she finds Virus completely gone. Sora's explanation to such making Raven sad to the point she sobs for the first time in years. According to Sora, Virus was just toying with them, to learn more about people--she never really cared. This destroys Raven, sending her deeper into her depression than ever before. The days seem to whizz by, and before Raven realizes 3 weeks had passed in the solitude Raven had built, accidentally pushing Sora away for most of it. Sluggishly scavenging for her and her friend on her required days, her turn-up began to dwindle as time progressed.
On an especially cold, windy night Raven is sent out as usual--her robotic nature protecting her from most of the elements. Entering the rubble of a house she hasn't entered prior--assuming nothing of use within though not taking the time to actually review. Upon walking through the doorway, she finds Virus curled up in the corner of one of the rooms. Visibly distressed, Virus stands and runs over--tackle hugging Raven.
Why is she behaving like this? She was just toying with her, again, right? This is so confusing, why can't they just be friends again? She could feel herself slowly growing more angry, more confused. Starting off angry, furiously interrogating for Virus' reason to her departure, she slowly shifts into confusion and shifted anger--realizing Sora had lied. Raven knew she didn't like Virus, but to lie and cast her away? Why? she was happy to be given the privilege to exist, with them, to be friends, and Sora thought that was malicious?
Grabbing Virus by the wrist, Raven storms back to the decaying house, leaving Virus outside to ensure she doesn't hurt as a result of hearing whatever may occur.
Upon entry, Sora greets Raven as if nothing happened. How could she?
Raven, immediately flying off the rails, her irritation apparent, pleads Sora to really mean that Virus decided to leave. Sora continued to lie through her teeth. How could she? Why? Raven spiraling further--her immaturity growing apparent. Virus was their friend. Sora rather calmly explains that she was trying to protect her, that she knew Virus would turn at the first opportunity. Sora didn't know shit. Contrasting Sora's oddly comforting tone, Raven near instantly returns to yelling, losing herself more and more. Why was she really this willing to defend what is essentially a stranger? Before Sora could defend herself further, Raven screams for her to stop speaking (though filled with many profanities) before walking to the door, Sora pouting on their couch. Before opening the door, Raven turns around scolding Sora, urging her to be kind 'for once'.
Raven opens the door, smiling upon seeing her friend waiting patiently. Upon re-entry, Raven tightly embraces her friend--Virus' sheer happiness from such a small gesture apparent.
Upon Virus' reintroduction to the group, things return to the weird, awkward mess it was prior. Barely managing to overcome her anxiety, over the following weeks Raven speaks more and more to Virus, realizing just how similar they are in nearly every way.
She also hasn't been introduced to a lot of things Raven had taken for granted, like eating or drinking--or video games. Well, in terms of video games, they had no consoles, so all Virus had was Raven's word, but she seemed satisfied at the thought. Raven and Virus grew closer and closer as the days passed. Close enough for Raven to realize how rude calling her friend what means essentially a disease, Raven pops the question of a potential rename.
With some notable thought behind it, Virus' eyes light up as she looks Raven in the eyes, proudly saying "Phoenix".Two or three months pass, Raven growing closer with Phoenix than she thought she could with a person. Smiling more than she thought she could, so much her mouth hurt. Sora becoming an after-thought most of the time, with Raven hyper-focused on Phoenix and such being reciprocated. One day, late at night while Raven and Phoenix were sitting together as they had made a habit of throughout the passing months, Phoenix mentions that she could free them from the winter hell they were in for so long. Raven, initially skeptical--mostly because of how abrupt it was, alongside the fact supposedly she could have done this the entire time--quickly shifts to being eager to see the outside world from her own body, with reassurance from Phoenix. Without thinking further--too focused on what new video games there could be--Raven enthusiastically agrees, Phoenix teleporting both herself and Raven to an otherwise unoccupied street corner.
As the realization that they're now--more or less--homeless sets in, Phoenix brings both of them into a cozy apartment that she supposedly had on hand the second she started preparing to leave. Upon introduction to a place she can truly call her home (and a bedroom, finally) Raven's first choice is to ask for a phone. If Phoenix can manipulate matter to teleport, she can probably make a phone, right?

Part 3.

For a time, things were calm, a sense of normality overtaking the duo. Finding comfort in their situation, Raven takes the opportunity to explore the modern world further--alongside introducing Phoenix to such commodities as well. Raven, eager to check the state of Sonic The Hedgehog, is enthralled to see dozens of games had released since her last opportunity to play such. Phoenix--at least from what Raven could tell--finding interest in such as well, making her feel even closer to her (already best) friend. After the enthusiasm following her hyper-fixation's content expansion, she introduced Phoenix to more real cuisine--not the artificial and scavenged canned goods they had been eating. Phoenix, Raven notes, was oddly entranced with all types of seafood. Her pupils expanding greatly at the mere mention, or the act of tearing off their shells or claws.
Though, to Raven's distress, Phoenix grew distant to her upon introduction to the web. Taking any opportunity she could to be out, and away--'helping people', Raven grew lonely as the days passed. As Phoenix was away more and more, Raven found herself loathing while laying in her bed, not moving or doing much beyond listening to somber music. Phoenix's fixation on helping was for the greater good--Raven reassured herself. She's just being selfish, trying to hog someone as powerful as that, someone who could be helping. Raven's condition worsening with every passing day, she tries her hardest to conceal such behind fake smiles and phony laughs. Nobody needs to worry about her, she thinks--especially not someone such as Phoenix.
As the days grew longer, she found herself reflecting, face absently pressed to her window's glass surface, reflecting on what better she could be doing. On a warm night, as any of the prior, Raven--looking out her window--watches as the small city outside her window crumbles before her eyes, like its structures were made of paper. Upon finalization of the destruction, she could barely manage to keep her eyes open, watching as a familiar red hue fills the destroyed skyline. Dread and infuriation bubbling, an unsettling mix of confusion and betrayal. Feeling her wires cross and her circuits heat to a boiling point, she stands shakily--light-headed, likely as a result of such complex and overwhelming emotion overtaking her. Hearing the door shakily open, Raven clumsily rushes to it, her growing confusion sitting heavy on her consciousness. Why would she do this? Why would Phoenix do this, even after being given a chance to change--was it all a lie?
Seeing her scarlet colored eyes downcast and pleading, Raven interprets such as a further chance to manipulate her. Her crocodile tears will work no longer.
Without any further thought, Raven--holding back tears--screams at Phoenix to 'Fuck off', to never show her face again.
That she had betrayed her trust.
without letting her speak further, Raven slams the door in her face, slumping to the floor and sobbing into her hands.

Part 4.

After the initial shock of (what Raven believed) to be an admission of Phoenix's true nature, Raven's reaction to her former friend's betrayal starts shifting and warping. Realizing how utterly lonely Raven is, and her odd self-administered requirement to be within the presence of another, She begins overthinking her rash decision. Believing she should have discussed such with her, maybe stomached the betrayal, and continued to grit her teeth; She begins to blame herself. Maybe if she had just aided in her reintroduction Phoenix wouldn't had done it. She had a tendency to prior after all, maybe with further aid she wouldn't have killed once more. It's Raven's fault, Phoenix just needed help--and instead she forced her away further.
As the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months, Raven begins to rot and mold into her bed more and more; until, eventually, one day she sits up, her feelings and depression swirling deep. Walking, slowly to the now empty kitchen, she contemplates, looks at the knife rack, before shakily grabbing the largest knife available--a slightly rusting steak knife, and preforming a quick slash along her right wrist. Her iron rich blood pooling down her arm, the euphoria of the pain aiding slightly in forgetting her mental anguish.
This cycle repeats for the following months, no self harm leaving any notable impression as her artificial skin's healing capabilities repairing her wounds before they can become scars, or linger for that matter.
6 months pass in solitude. Raven's schedule became a restless loop of waking up, laying in bed for hours listening to whatever first plays, and making temporary imprints into her skin with whatever she can find.
Upon the seventh month of this ruthless cycle, there's a slow knock on her door. Upon her first attempt to ignore such and the repetition, she lazily gets up, her posture slumped, trudging to the door.
Upon opening the door, a familiar figure stands in view, with a small, green kid holding her hand.
Raven's posture and mood immediately improves, a large smile creeping onto her face, hugging her friend and frantically apologizing for her actions.
After she catches up with her friend, her eyes drink to the little green girl that Phoenix had brought with her.
Upon noticing Raven's suspicion, Phoenix states, "This is Fah".

Part 5.

Upon Phoenix's arrival, alongside her more somber act, her appearance matched such as well. Making a blatant attempt to avoid the color red, and being notably thinner. The kid looked in better hygiene than her, though phoenix urged that herself and the child bathe.
Following their rushed introductions and their lengthily bathes, Phoenix walks out notably larger in almost every area that isn't her waist--alongside returning to her association with red. Raven, assuming such to be a failed attempt to her prior, tries her hardest not to stare.
Following, Phoenix introduces her to Fah further. How she found her in what sounds like the biblical version of purgatory, and how she was being practically tortured. Raven, feeling great empathy towards Fah, tries her hardest to aid in raising her.
Teaching her as much as she could--words, introducing her to media and TV (which she found great interest in) alongside introducing her to as much culinary as she could get her to try. Fah finding it difficult to trust most of Raven's attempts initially (probably as a result of her continuous suffering) slowly grows closer with Raven, clinging to herself almost as much as Phoenix. Raven's proudest achievement was introducing her to Sonic, and Fah finding the same level of enjoyment within it as herself.
This continuous loop perpetuates and repeats for the following months, Raven finding great solace within such--almost forgetting entirely of her tendencies while Phoenix was away.
Though, unknown to Raven, upon sleeping one cold autumn night, she wouldn't wake the same.

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Raven desktop-pet.

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Upon waking, Raven finds herself slumped on the carpet flooring of her bedroom, Phoenix crouching over her, tears pouring from her eyes. "What happened?" Raven inquires, worried--before Raven herself realizes she's vastly different physically. Taller, shorter hair, different clothing, along with a bloodied cloth around her neck. Upon her question, Phoenix explains of what had happened--someone had managed to snuff Raven out though Phoenix swiftly took care of them. As a result of this, Phoenix had to rush to repair Raven, making quite a few assumptions of what she would prefer. Just happy to be alive and kicking, happy that Phoenix is okay, she remains content.
In the following months, nothing shifts in how the three live their lives--though Phoenix refusing to leave her side for the first few months.
After the first few weeks--with reassurance from Raven--Phoenix believes in their safety once more. Phoenix, desiring to take lone time to herself--with Raven desiring to stay standstill, Raven agrees to look over Fah as Phoenix takes her temporary outing. As Phoenix is away, Raven cooks for Fah--failing largely for most but managing to cook passing pancakes. Fah, still being oblivious to most earthly commodities, finds great joy in the fluffy treats. After their cooking escapade, Raven and Fah sit on their apartment's porch, watching the passing cars on the highway a mile or so in the distance. In the past half a dozen months, Fah grew attached to vehicles--well, saying that hyper-focuses on one, she really just finds interest in anything big or flashy. The bright colors of a car whizzing by, or the sounds, makes the little one giddy. Raven, while on the porch, took the opportunity to introduce the young one to children's media. Finding great interest in the children's show Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood--following for notable months at any opportunity Fah would ask to be able to watch such. As evening grew to dusk, and dusk to night, Raven brought Fah inside, continuing to watch the simple pre-recorded Youtube publishings of Fah's now favorite (from what Raven assumes) on their Tv.
Upon Phoenix's return--which was via teleportation, a media Phoenix hadn't used in a large span, noted by Raven--Fah and herself almost instinctually greet Phoenix, happy to once more be reunited.
Following this, Raven observes, Fah builds the tendency to cling to Phoenix's side--Unable to get her to leave such.
After Phoenix's odd excursion, things return to their sense of peace. They continue raising Fah together--becoming her parents in a way. Introducing Fah to everything she could--Media, Tv, Food, People (usually celebrities)--the large smiles that Fah would brand following any of these events would make Raven feel a sense of warmth she hadn't in months. As a result (Raven assumes) of the event that had required Raven's reconstruction, Phoenix hadn't showed visible happiness in a long while. Though, seeing Fah so happy to merely live, she too began to mimic her warmth.
After everything the trio had been forced to stomach--the torment, the hurt and experiences that had forced a test of will--Raven had hoped the last attempt would be the end--a happy ending. Even though they would (Especially Raven) have begged for anything but, things still manage to tunnel further down.
One day, she goes to sleep for her last time. The night before, she was sitting and playing with Fah, and the next she wouldn't wake.
Another Attempt is made on Raven's life, and such remains successful.
The only lingering impression of the robotic girl's existence being the leg from her pants.

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Amanda Griedu lived from 1930-1967, appearing to be a happy and otherwise bubbly figure to most. Contrasting this demeanor, Griedu's crimes were nothing but heinous--almost completely wiped from most media because of how unexpected and, frankly incompetent it was for law enforcement not to notice. According to stray newspaper scraps and trimmings, Amanda was a people person--cooking and being generally lively to most of her neighbors. Beloved by many until the last few years of her life, her offenses came as a large surprise.
Growing up in a broken home, Amanda's mental problems began noteworthy as she began growing both violent and expressing large mood-swings in her youth, what likely should have been taken as foreshadowing.
Her felonies, according to what can be accounted from stray discarded media include large counts of the following: second and first degree murder, both on those of young homosexuality, from ages 15-20, all male in gender. As law enforcement found, she would commonly skin and grill, boil, and overall cook the muscle-dense parts of these dozen or so men, before burying or discarding the fat, bones, or skin. Using her 'hobby' as an advantage to keep her presence lively, she would also share these 'meals' with her neighbors, leading to a large trust and liking for her building.
What put her on the police's watch was her being seen outside late night, with a bag of what appeared to be animal skin--though on further examination the stray body parts of over a dozen missing adolescent men. Alongside this, some anonymous calls were logged of people surrounding reporting an odd scent from her home, and the odd tasting food.
Chalking these up to the young men getting lost in the thick woods or other immature happenings, the woman whom appeared to be a neighborhood humanitarian being at fault was never assumed.
Upon such a discovery, she was quickly arrested and put in cue for death's row.
After only a month in a decrepit prison cell, Griedu was strapped to the chair and put to death. Comparing her adult life, having no one around for her.

Upon opining her eyes, Amanda gasps for air. After what should have been her last breath, waking up was not expected. Trying to collect on why she was still alive, she sees that her current environment was a dark grey void, no presence at all--nor could she move. Her body stuck in a rigid standing position, her mouth locked. Growing more and more fearful, she tries desperately to move, to no avail.
Hearing slight mumbles before her--with no mouths to come from--she tries desperately to scream for help; to threaten them, anything to be freed. with Her efforts fruitless, she slowly feels her body shifting, things slowly going dark.

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attempting to open her eyes, Amanda is fruitless. Anger flushes through her system, before her mind quickly goes black, losing all development. Alongside her altered physical, her mind is adjusted as well for such--back to stage 4. Now physically and mentally 3, Amanda--now Fah, an identifier given to her by her tormenters--feels tremendous fear, confusion, and anxiety.
A wind swiftly erupting around her--which, unknown to Fah, was her being transported to the place where her purgatorial form should reside, where her torment would begin. Afraid of the unknown, not knowing what or where she is, fah grows more fearful by the second--the childish fear of the dark she now possesses growing immense.
The space she had been brought to amplified this--a leaky and grimy building: cracked concrete walls, drippy pipes and ripped carpet. A singular chair against the back wall with stray wooden weapons littering the floor. From what Fah could tell, abruptly after some physical force from her captors: she was chained to something with something that was actively digging into her wrists and ankles. The chains being made of an odd, 'glitchy' substance that was like the physical embodiment of static. A deep, black in color, it slowly burnt into her skin over her course. Throughout this time and transportation the only thing the small green girl could hear were voices.
Small bickering or conversations between deep and gruff voices--usually followed by some beating. Slowly associating any sound with her own suffering, though one could assume it would have been anything if she had any of her other sentences.
Decades to years pass as this loop continues, not being allowed to age she remains at around four mentally. Her clothes remaining unchanged as well, they tear and rip as a result of both her physically aging and her gruesome torture. Her small green body growing intensely frail and battered.
Living and made to suffer, without and reason as to why--the little one's existence was solely to suffer. Barely alive, nor allowed to move or see--her touch was berated with the countless beatings alongside yelling voices.
Though these years of torture had nothing notable overall, there is one thing worth commenting on.
A pair of Hell-born had spent to take their anger out on her--as many had prior, though they brought their own material. Using their scarf to strangle the small girl and having to be torn off of them and thrown out for almost killing the 'property', the scarf was left around her neck. In the beginning, its presence made her feel unsettled--partially because of the new sensation and it initially having been used to make an attempt on her life.
Though, as time passed the gentle felt of the scarf wrapped around her grew to be her only comfort. It not being taken because her captors assumed it was still hurting her, she was given her first piece of comfort, a 'friend'.
Years turned to decades, and the little one barely ages as a result of her demonic blood. Her bruises lingering not, she's used as a punching bag for anyone and everyone.
Decades pass, and on her seventh physical year she feels a change.
Something charges at her, and she flinches--before, she feels a loosening of the chains, before they dissipate completely. She feels two things scoop up underneath her, and Before she can respond (though, not like Fah would know how) the heated environment cools to a chill she hadn't ever known.
Shaking like a leaf, she feels her skin through her ripped attire slowly and gently touch a cold floor.
Before her, all Fah can hear is the heaving breathing of something. Though not knowing how to respond--movement of any kind being foreign--she tries her best to look where the sounds come from.
With a loud thud, the breathing slows, Fah scooting back greatly.
Hours pass--Fah not moving as to not potentially get herself hurt--before more movement is heard.
All Fah can make note of is movement, trying her best to follow it with her face.
Abruptly, Fah feels her clothing loosen, first flinching and tensing as her wear morphs, before--she realizes her friend was removed, gone. Panicking, Fah jolts her head and face around, anxiety bubbling like it hadn't before. Suddenly, though: a loud sound is made from her. She knows it was because of herself, because she felt her body shake as a result--though that was it.
Before the kin could collect on why such had happened, her friend was returned, relaxing ever-so.
Without thinking on what had occurred, Fah loosens--her dress not paining her longer.
Fah, without warning, feels a small, gentle touch to her body.
Flinching, she tries to consider a way to react before the small touch transitions to be a bigger one--oddly bringing the girl a sense of comfort.
With no other ideas besides this comfort, she attempts to reciprocate: laying her small hands on what had touched her.
After a handful of moments, she feels another sensation--the gentle notion of her fingers being raised and opened as something is put into it. Something small, with an odd texture. Wrapping her hand around it instinctually, she feels the wrapping slowly move away.
Fah, gently holding the thing in her hand as to not hurt it, feels her hand slowly being moved somewhere. Fearful at first, she trusts it with nothing else to do.
The sensation departs, as she hears a voice speak.
A voice without the usual gruff or angry tone--a gentle, warm voice, one that brought Fah odd comfort.
"Can you write?" she hears.
Knowing only the bare of those words, she doesn't know what to do. Though, like second nature she feels her fingers wrap around the thing she had held and scribble.
Following this oddity a silence envelops the room.
The voice picks up again.
"What's your name?"
To this Fah remains confused, unmoving. Knowing of the word name, though not knowing hers, she tries to get herself to do what she had to communicate the word that she kept hearing.
Fah.
Following this tender patience Fah is quickly bombarded by more words, shakily writing the same things in repetition in response. Not knowing what the person meant, though afraid to anger them by ignoring.
Though, she does know one word: Scarf.
In response, she slowly and shakily writes: friend.

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Continuing through these inquiries, until, suddenly: a sensation wafts through fah's head: smell. Fah, flinching to the new sensation--quickly settles as a result of having no real grasp of what was happening nor knowing how to respond. The voice softens, and says things that Fah could get no real grasp on, the person gently running their hands through her hair while her speaking continues.
In one ear, out the other.
To Fah's startle, within no time at all--though, no time meaning days--Fah had a full face. Eyes, eyebrows, a mouth.
Each bringing a new excitement.
Upon receiving her mouth, Fah would absently mimic the person. Learning to speak rather quickly, though such having actually been a dozen or so days. Fah, unable to speak but disconnected sounds.
Though, the biggest shock being vision.
Whipping her head around after her eyes appeared--Fah shook crazily. Still seeing the darkness she had become so accustom to, though--a figure sat before her. The figure, a human girl she had grown to know was named Phoenix (though Fah unable to pronounce such saying Vee, something she was told to call her after Phoenix discovered she couldn't speak correctly). After the initial surprise, Fah allowed herself to look at Vee once-more, now able to see her.
A person of color, wearing dark clothes with hair on top of her head and pokey horns extending out. Her eyes were a pretty yellow color.
As a result of her eyes forming, Vee introduced sleeping to her.
Initially confused, Fah mimicked her friend's actions before opening her eyes to Vee in a completely different area.
Learning she had slept, Fah quickly realizes she feels better physically--at least, a lot of her aching had vanished.
Days to weeks to months pass, and Fah learns many more person commodities--namely how to speak and walk. Barebones names for common words or sentence structures--speaking disconnected words and stringing together phrases like she had heard. Her ability to walk was shaky and wobbly but she could.
6 months had passed--Fah learning the identifiers for time from Phoenix.
Abruptly, she watches as their environment changes, standing by Phoenix and holding her hand. Many bright and beautiful colors are around her--blues and pinks and greys and yellows. Analyzing and admiring the beautiful colors around her, she hears a sound Infront of her, before looking forward and seeing Vee hitting the thing they were standing in-front of.
Upon it opening, a person Fah doesn't know walks into view. Distracted from Vee and the unknown's interaction, Fah continues standing absently and looking around. Startling Fah, though, Phoenix quickly and abruptly scoops her up, bringing her into another room and shutting the door.
Fah watches as Phoenix sets her down, and starts undressing her--watching her friend be taken growing fearful. Questioning Vee's intentions with her friend, Vee gently grabs her hand and comforts her.
"Your scarf is safe." she says.
Hesitant, Fah nods after a notable amount of time--trusting Phoenix with it once-more.
Phoenix then gently sets it down, moving to be sat by where Fah stood. Reaching past her, Vee grabs and twists something, before something--that Fah learned was water after being startled by it--rushes from a faucet.
They both watch as the big oval white 'bath' fills, followed by Vee putting Fah inside of it.
Flinching at first, she quickly sits down after Vee's assurance of her safety.
Rubbing a bubbling thing against her, before coating her with the water.
Once Fah was fully cleaned, Phoenix took her out and rubbed her with a towel, and after Fah was completely unwet, Vee put her clothes back on her--gently wrapping the scarf around her neck.
"Go and play, I need to clean myself as well."
Phoenix says, gently dismissing Fah to a corner of the room where two plastic cars appear.
Enthralled by the small replicates of her soon to be favorite commodity, Fah is content.
Before she realizes, Vee finishes--Fah stuffing the cars into her pockets as Vee grabs her hand and leads her out of the room.
Making note of Vee's physical change in appearance, though she doesn't truly mind nor care.
It's the same person
After exiting, Fah almost completely zones out.
Listening to the person and Vee absently talk, she hears the word 'Raven' once or twice, assuming it to be their name.
This conversation passes quickly, as more time passes following.
Raven and Phoenix teaching Fah more words, and Fah's interest in cars growing.
Unable to say Raven's name though, Fah opts to say 'Ray'.

Part 2.

Showing Fah things like food or houses or clouds or grass, Fah took immense interest in it all, happy to be alive.
Time passes like this for weeks, them slowly teaching her things and Fah adoring everything.
Fah turning into one of the better behaved children as a result of who her parents were, she was oddly clingy and
obedient.
Vee giving her small gifts or toys or things to play with at home, Fah was content universally--the happiness she deserved.
Worth noting, Phoenix and Fah shared a room as a result of the home's small interior--though such disturbed Fah not as a result of her ability to sleep through more or less anything--even an assassination.
Waking one bright morning, Fah finds Ray completely different looking.
That's all Fah notes on. Maybe it was because of her being a child, but Fah cared very little for what everyone looked like.
Following this, Vee refused to leave Raven's side--for a reason unknown to Fah. Barely leaving their apartment much, Vee's room began to grow cluttered with Fah's trinkets.
After a time, though, this tranquility is altered--Phoenix leaves to go to someplace unknown to Fah. Being told to stay with Raven, Fah hesitantly does so--trusting her mother to return.
Fah is standstill, hesitantly staying by Raven as the door shuts.
Almost instantly, though, Raven states:
"Does Fah want nummies?"
Eager to try more food, Fah enthusiastically agrees. Standing by Raven as she flips something in a metal plate over a fire, after a handful of minutes she watches as Raven slides something yellow and fluffy off and cover it in syrup.
The puffy sweet candy-like treat--Fah had learned were 'pancakes'--made her as happy as any other dish had.
Quickly scarfing the breakfast dish down, Fah requests to watch the cars pass on the street outside.
upon her request to view the 'vrooms', Raven leads her outside to the concrete gated space outside the door, where they sit and talk--Fah learning a few new words, alongside the concept of calling Phoenix 'Pee'.
Upon Fah happily announcing the new name, Raven erupted in laughter.
After things grew quiet, Raven took out a little box with flashy lights on it: and made it display a little tiger that spoke and talked.
The concept of an animal talking made Fah laugh, and watching made her grow connected to the media.
Learning the tiger's name is Daniel, she continues watching--and as the outside grew dark, they moved inside and kept watching on the bigger box light box.
As another episode came to a close on the Tv, Phoenix appears out of thin air.
Fah hugs Phoenix hastily--happy to see her.
Alongside such, Fah subconsciously never leaves her side. The feeling of safety sinking in truly during her excursion.

Part 3.

Following Phoenix's outing, things return how they had been before Raven changed.
Continuing to leave and introduce Fah to pretty things and tasty food, she maintained her childlike whimsy for the entire duration of the three's unity--her room-warming smile even managing to keep Phoenix warm.
Though, unknown to Fah, it would only last a small duration.
Waking one night, everything was in flames.
Afraid and quaking, Fah clings to her mother, sobbing harder than she ever had. An emotion she didn't know she could convey. The only reason she didn't lose her face oncemore was because of Phoenix's presence.
Phoenix rising to investigate, Fah follows shakily, and they both find Raven missing, making Vee
angry in a way Fah hadn't seen before.
Trusting her mother, trusting her intent, Fah manages to not completely collapse--though close.
Phoenix frantically does things Fah cannot explain. A lot of flashing colors and big words that Fah couldn't note.
Before Fah could realize what had happened, she was transported to the black place her and Phoenix had met, where she had first gotten her face.
A small Tv sat infront of her, playing Daniel Tiger's neighborhood with a dozen or so toy cars and a playmat scattered before her.
Trying desperately to look for Phoenix, she fails--though trusting she would see her once more.
desperately trying to keep herself okay, she played with the cars through sobs--driving them through the fabric, painted roads on the rug.
Hours passed, before Fah was brought to her mother oncemore.
Watching her mother sob in the bright green grass they both sat in, Fah dropped to her knees and hugged her destroyed parent--assuming things would never return to how they were.

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Video by CraveThyRave. This has no Lore relevance.

Fah desktop-pet.

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The Wasteland Phoenix created became her and Phoenix' new home. Though lonely for a short while, after what was likely only decades a new intelligent species evolved.
Due to this evolutionary happening, Phoenix and herself are forced to go into hiding. Though to Fah's relent, her mother forced her to. Something about not wanting to be flashy.
They live now together in an odd treehouse Phoenix built by hand, when Fah was notably younger--against her best wishes having both a phone with her favorite things and a few toys for her once young daughter.
Though, once older, Fah had to take up the mantle of the breadwinner for the two following Fah hitting age 14. Near this time, Phoenix started to breakdown and be more somber, (from what Fah assumes something to do with her inhuman nature merging with a human). Fah began to have to scavenge for food for the two, usually killing and cooking things without her mother being any wiser.
Most of everything was left to Fah: ensuring they're kept hidden, ensuring that they both manage to eat and stay alive (as spoken of).
Fah ending up in one of the worst place she could have, she still maintains some happiness--her mother's presence still bringing unbridled joy.

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When Sora was younger, she wasn't a female. She only came out to her father when she was around 14--to her father's anger. Already a broken household, she deals with her fathers homophobia and stays closeted until she's near 17, slowly transitioning from such a point.
Mostly in secret, being able to hide such for the most part until her femininity was to a palpable point by her 19th birthday, her father reacting to suit. Forcing a lot of her feminine tendencies away, with Sora having to grit her teeth because of the low financial stability of both her family and the area in general.
To Sora's surprise, he allowed her to grow her hair out, but that was it. Anything else was refused from her, especially feminine clothing--though she was never the type to dress the role.
Her home being in a worse-off part of town, working a job only managed to keep food for her and her father and to pay him to let her live with him.
Months or so pass from her 17th, her transition slowly progressing in secret, until,...
Right before her 18th birthday, her father schedules a date for her with a boy he believes she would like.
A boy.
Maybe he assumed he would be worse-off rejecting the femininity with her partner, or that they would be pushed off, but she was potentially allowed to date someone she would truly like.
Though, this luck is cut short when she was informed of her required attire--a suit her father had bought for her.
Refusing to wear such (even briefly) Sora spends her own money on a beautiful red off the shoulder dress in secret, buying it the day of and changing into it prior to the date.
Walking to the place it was scheduled--a surprisingly nice restaurant she didn't note the name to--she couldn't keep her head up, watching her feet, desperately trying to look as feminine as possible.
Afraid for any of her genes to shine through, and too scared to look up, she bumps into a lamp pole, the impact being enough to drain her conscious.Her eyes opening, Sora sees two women--probably late teens--squatting over her, inspecting her. Visibly surprised by her awaking, they both jump, standing back--the shorter one hiding behind the one with an odd tail.
Frozen in shock and fear, she watches as the two reach out and poke and prod her, hesitant for a reason Sora can't note.
All she can note, though, is that she appeared to be in the center of a blizzard--snow raining down on her body like a storm, though weirdly warm.

Part 2.

Whenever her mind finally clicks on, she's hit with sets of realizations: her clothing has been shifted from the lovely dress she picked to something she would wear more daily, which is why she wasn't cold. Why was it so cold around her, though? She had opened her eyes to a swirling blizzard in the middle of a destroyed neighborhood, and what's with the odd people? Blue hair, cat tails and unrealistic breasts? What kind of people are these? Would she be able to return home? Is she just stuck here? Would she prefer this over her foreboding father?
Most of these questions would remain unanswered, but as the tears stream down her face, the people before her quickly back off--the blue one squatting to be eye-level and the odd-tailed one standing over her, as they hastily comfort her and introduce themselves.
The blue one, Niko, and the moody one with a tail, named Naomi. Their comforts not doing much--Sora having always been the independent type, had begrudgingly wiped her eyes and stuffed her feelings away to maintain her tough demeanor.
After she stood, they assured her of their trustability (though, not believing them she had nothing else to rely on), they brought her back to a less destroyed suburban home, boarded windows and sloppy attempts to reinforce it for safety.
Allowing her inside, she walks in, seeing the scrappy attempts at furniture and the piles of canned food stashed, handsewn clothes and blankets scattered.
Having dozens of questions, she refrains--an attempt to further maintain her demeanor through her crashing mind.
Upon meekly settling on a scrappy pile of blankets and handsewn pillows in the corner, herself is picked up into the style of repetition the two before her had built. Upon being introduced to the duty of seeking for their canned foods every two or so days, she was commonly forced out because of her more muscular appearance.
The snowy blizzard beating against her gritted skin every single time she was forced to scavenge, commonly not even eating much of her findings.
During her time within The Blizzard (which is what Naomi and Niko called it, she discovered--noting of its non-creative nature) she learned a couple things about her environment. Naomi probably would never warm up to her--pretty snarky and back-handed overall, only really showing warmth to Niko. As for Niko, she very obviously functioned as the more mature of the two--keeping them all on the rails and keeping Naomi's anger on the backburner.
Another thing she learned, notably about Naomi, was that she would have 'episodes' where her eyes would shift in pigment to an odd red, where the world would shift to a darkened pigment, the only color being from the three of them. Herself and Niko would feel locked, and Naomi's rude tendencies would grow largely into physical beating and berating, torturing both Sora and Niko.
The dark void's growth being a sign of such, Sora quickly began to have a fear of the dark.
After this berating ceases, any physical injuries would vanish and Naomi's eyes would return, having no recollection.
The first time Sora's instincts kicked in after the void has vanished, hurling herself at Naomi with Niko stopping her right before she could land anything. Dragging her to some solidarity, she had explained Naomi had no control. The only reason Sora was so believing was because of Niko's motherly tone and feel, otherwise she would have quickly ignored such and likely torn Naomi apart. The thing, she came to learn, that would take over Naomi was called 'Virus'.
This cycle repeated for weeks, one of them leaving to scavenge the destroyed homes, going back, sometimes being tormented by 'Naomi', and then sleeping for it to continue the next--Sora's relationship with Naomi strained and Niko by proxy.
After the first month, Naomi's alter would manage to beat Sora to an extent Niko wouldn't convince her out of.
Interrogating Naomi heavily, pinning her to the floor and restrained, all she could mutter was her oblivious nature in relation to any of such.
Sora's anger coursing through her only newly clean body, she raises a fist, before Naomi's body is ripped away from her grasp--glowing white and floating a foot or two off of the floor.
Anger being replaced with pure fear, she backs off, her face's expression mimicking such.
Looking at Niko who's impression was about the same, within the first two or so minutes the glow and floating stopped, as Naomi and a person unknown to both Sora and Niko fall to the floor.
The girl wearing a t-shirt and yellow rubber rainboots, her hair messy and brown and her eyes a beautiful purple.
Naomi awaking first, upon seeing the person by her quickly pins it to the floor as they groggily awake.
Naomi angrily hurling questions at her as Niko and Sora stand back, watching as Naomi shouts and punches the petite girl.
After an uncomfortable amount of time, Naomi steps back, and the girl stands.
Naomi asks for her name, and in reply, the girl states: "Raven", a small smile creeping onto her baby face.
That's a trans sounding name, probably too judgy though.
She doesn't look like she could hurt a fly, literally.
Some faggy introductions go by pretty quickly--nothing Sora really cared for.
Though, to nobody's surprise, within like, a day, Raven started doing that thing Naomi had been doing.
In a rushed decision, Sora locks her in the shabby pantry they have and try to forget she exists. Sora hadn't cared for many of the inhabitants of this place, Raven included, so things continued as normal.Months pass in this little cycle, nothing notable happening, little sympathy spurring for Raven.
Every so often they would let Raven out and bring her along for scavenging, usually only once a month. on the fourth (or so) month, upon bringing Raven out, Sora departed from the three to scavenge a more bruised and beaten home.
Upon returning after an hour or so, she finds Raven standing over the two: hands bloodied.
All Sora could think to do, was shout.

Part 3.

Why had Sora trusted the person who had managed to be the tormenter of a group of three for months? The first thing that she truly turmoiled over. She could have saved them by just, killing this girl.
That's what she's gonna do, she thought.
Sprinting over to Raven and swinging towards her skull, the clang of the metal making her bleed: but the force was enough to knock her out. Grabbing the girl by the back of her shirt collar, she begins dragging her limp, robotic body across the snowy plains, yanking her across the scattered concrete and twigs.
Upon kicking in the door to their home, Sora picks Raven up by her shoulders, dragging her to just outside of the pantry, where she grabs one of the wooden chairs nearby with her foot and drops Raven onto it, using some of the torn rope from inside of the pantry to restrict her by her ankles and wrists.
Quickly walking away with steady footsteps (another failing attempt to convince herself of her composure), she grabs a newspaper covered in nails that Naomi had used.
Returning to Raven, she whacks her quickly across her forehead, before, watching her eyes open, taking a step back and hurling her accusations at her.
"Why did you make me do this?" she yelled, no answer in response.
Screaming, begging for an answer, doing nothing but standing and shouting.
The fact she wasn't sobbing was incredible to her, even if she cared not for the two fallen.
Hurling a new threat of violence every sentence, she tried her very best to keep her strong demeanor.
Raven talking softly in response, tears gushing down her face.
It's just manipulation, Sora assures herself.
After the large lack of response, Raven finally speaks. "I swear it isn't me," she says, defensive but quaking.
"I've always had this problem, rip apart my motors and I promise you'll find something wrong!" Raven pleads.
Weirdly the same thing Niko had told her about Naomi.
Raven couldn't even fight if she wanted to. So, going against her better judgement, Sora furrows her brow, drops her weapon, and steps forward. Kicking the chair as to ensure it falls on its back, and to keep Raven at her most vulnerable.
Squatting to the left of Raven, making eye contact, noting on the girl's fear.
She squints, placing her hands on Raven's face, and prying her facial cavity open with her fingernails.
Inside, was completely hollow, the outer lining wrapped with wireframe. The only thing present was a couple of wires and a motherboard under her left eye. Squinting further (and having to bring her face uncomfortably close to Raven's), she sees what appears to be a small red needle stabbed into her motherboard. Pressing her hand down onto Raven's torso and warning her to remain still, she carefully attempts prying such out with her short fingernails. Once it was removed after a handful of minutes, it evaporates into nothing--a weird sound erupting from it.
She sighs, untying Raven before standing, Raven following suit.
They both make uneasy eye contact, before Raven inquires "Am... I okay?"
"I believe so." Sora responds, avoiding contact as she attempts to convince herself this was the right decision.Standing there in silence for what felt like an eternity, Sora requests for Raven to aid in a burial. Raven hesitantly agreeing, they both walk silently to the wasted corpses. After this somber burial, things return to an odd mockery of the prior: the only real difference being Niko and Naomi were replaced with Raven.
Her sadness short-lived as a result of her not having been too acquainted with the two, Raven's playful and childlike whimsy that had resurfaced managing to make Sora forget about their woes.
Raven having showed up after Sora had 'adjusted' means that she could blend better with her.
Becoming friends with Raven felt like an achievement. Sora was never the friendly type, especially in her youth, so being able to mesh with someone had great importance to her.
Learning of Raven's past tragedies: the abuse by the hand of Virus, her being created to replace some dead guy's wife, or her being replaced by Naomi. Growing sympathetic and largely feeling bad for her abuse towards the girl.
Months or so pass, before, on an odd day, something strange occurs.
The two of them are transported to a dark place, one that Sora knew well. The dark place Virus had used to torment her and the other two. A woman walks out of the shadows before them, Sora standing in front of her friend, in an attempt to protect her. A colored woman, busty with clothes similar to Raven's stands before them. She also had those damn eyes. Connecting the dots quickly, attacking and pinning the whore to the ground as quickly as she humanly can, her foot in it's neck, squatting over it.
"Why are you back?" she yells, no reply being given as it eyes Raven, only a small glare being given to her. Just gotta protect Raven.
"Your not hurting anyone, this time." Sora screams, though the bimbo unimpacted by her words.
In reaction to what (Sora assumes) was something relating to Raven, Virus speaks.
"I promise I've changed", it states, barely above a mumble. Looking at Raven.
"Maybe we could give her a chance." Raven says, Sora turning to see Raven weirdly confident.
"It's a fucking killer!" Sora yells, ensuring to put emphasis on the word 'it'.
Cutting through Sora's statement, raven interrupts, "Forgive her, Please!"
Why was she so persistent on this? Her only relation was being the toy they had tormented. Why care? Their friends were dead by it's hands.
she Responded with a quiet no.
Without thinking, though, she goes by her friend's wishes. Sighing and standing, glaring down at the odd mesh of skin tissue and fat.
She darts to raven's side, still attempting to act like a meat shield to protect the girl made of metal.
Without time to think, the three are transported to Sora and Raven's home. Upon entry, Sora leans on the wall closest to their couch, Raven sitting on such and the sex-object sitting on the floor. As Raven began asking Virus about itself, Sora quickly interjected to avoid it lying or manipulating Raven further.
"It's name is Virus, it hurts people. That's it."
Sora clots out a lot of Virus' presence, ignoring her as Raven tried eagerly to socialize with it.
Mainly, though, she was thinking of a way to remove the predator from their home.
To protect her friend.
Just, with a little time she could think of something. Just suck it up until she could remove them.

Part 4.

A day where Raven was the one obligated to scavenge arrives. The blizzard outside beating down on the earth, one where Sora's biological anatomy would not survive just as well as Raven's. That day, aswell, being a day where Sora's emotions flowed freely through her. Taking the advantage while she could, when she wouldn't back down. The time had come to cleanse their tranquility. Raven and herself's. Sora was sitting the couch, eyeing the cracked wall infront of her, while Virus sat on the floor, idly. It was time to remove the filth. To do what was best for Raven. "Look at me, Now." Sora demands. As Virus gets on his knees and stares, Sora demands that she stood. "Listen well, you little red whore. You will never be a friend to Raven. She is more than anything you could ever grasp. Maybe she can't see through you, but I can. You've manipulated her with your stupid pretty face and cute voice for way too damn long." Sora's words sharp, like blood trickling off of a knife. "I don't want to see your fuckin' face again. If I do, I won't be as nice. Leave." Stern, direct, the words Sora had been holding in leave her mouth. At the end of her statement, without even letting Virus speak, she points towards the door, glaring. The demon moves its hand and opens its mouth to start speaking, before stopping as Sora glares on, slowly walking out as fake tears build around it's blood red eyes. Upon Raven's return, the only thing Sora could do was lie. Though such being terrible, which Sora notes, it was for the greater good. Raven opens the door, walking in and frantically looking for Virus. Gently resting her hand on her friend's shoulder, she explains: "It just kind of... left. Said something about havin' used us for something. Nothing I cared to note." "No! She wouldn't! she was my friend!" Raven pleads, her eyes tearing. "It's the truth--it's just how it is." Raven goes silent. Virus' departure led to Raven pushing herself away from everything, commonly sitting in place and staring forward. Sora felt kind of bad. Not enough to ignore such, it was for the greater good. Though, weeks pass in this solidarity, this awkward sad time led Sora to worry deeply if this was the right call. Weeks pass, and Raven is sent out on an especially cold, windy night as usual. Sora, left alone again, sits and does for the most part nothing, fiddling with her fingers, cleaning some. A handful of hours pass before Raven flings open the door, face red with anger. "Hey, Raven!" Sora repeats, cheery as she would any other. Oddly, she questions Sora on if Virus really decided to leave. Of course it didn't, but she couldn't say that. Instead, she regurgitates the same thing she had been saying. Raven loses it. Calling her a liar, hurling profanities, and before she could even defend herself she was shut down. "Shut the fuck up, Sora!" she shouts. Sora, sitting meekly on the couch as Raven stands before the door, her berating continued. "She's outside. I'm going to let her in, and you will be nice for once." Without giving Sora the chance to speak, Raven jolts her hand to the door, opening it--her demeanor softening greatly upon seeing her sex-doll of a friend. Following Virus' introduction, Raven distanced heavily from Sora. Definitely a purposeful action by Virus, but Sora couldn't comment to Raven as they were practically inseparable. Sora, in trying to protect her friend, pushed the only person she truly cared for away. She had lost her the second she found Virus. How had she found it? They were told to leave. Swarms of questions flurry through Sora's head, as the weeks turned into months--barely hearing Raven's voice directing anything towards herself.

Part 5.

Two or three months pass in solace, Sora left alone while Raven played with Virus away from her. Assuming this was how the rest of her days would play out, she couldn't help but pity herself. Having been against feeling bad for herself, but thinking further realizing she was trapped in what could be described as a snowy hell, with her only friend taken from her. One morning, though, that felt indifferent to many, she found both Virus and Raven gone. Frantically searching the home, the houses around, and miles and miles, for what was days, her search came up empty handed, they had abandoned her, somehow. This was the trick Virus was pulling. Taking her friend away. Did it kill her? Imprison her? Is she being tortured? Sora had no way to find out. All she could do, is reflect. Collapsing to her knees in the snow, she sobbed for the first time since her youth. What had she done to deserve such a damnation? Since her loss, Sora turned into a walking drone, barely acting human. Absently collecting food--but not eating. Sleeping most days away, trying to forget. She couldn't. Thoughts of Naomi and Niko, and Raven. How Virus had taken it all. How she would die here. She would have to spend the rest of her days, in this icy, snowy hell.

Gallery.

Video by CraveThyRave. This has no Lore Relevance.

Biography.

Jael was a genius--in, some regard. Only notably in correlation with his machines. Otherwise, he's socially inept and not that knowledgeable on anything that doesn't help with his mechanics. One would assume that--because of this lack of communicational ability--Jael would be alone for most of his life, maybe having his family. Though, to his misfortune, him being engrossed with his creations led to his close and far family having been pushed away. Late into his time in college, though, Jael would meet a girl who would utterly change the course of his life: Avery Blanchern. This girl had managed to break through his social roadblock, him quickly falling head over heels for every part of her. Her curves, her outgoing personality, her sociability--all of it. Finding his obsession with his machines 'cute'--Of course, they end up together.Years pass from college, Avery graduating while Jael dropping out shortly after they met. Marrying in their late twenties, only handful of years after they began dating. having already moved in with Avery as a result of him dropping out, the home she had bought was rather pricey, money achieved in a way Jael had no knowledge of. The garage of the house they had bought was shortly renovated into a sort of lab for Jael.
Living relatively peacefully for a time, Jael obsessing with his machines though still managing to make time for his wife.
Though, through this duration Avery would slowly have more coughing fits or times where she was overall feeling ill--though her assuring Jael of their security.
After around a year of this starting, this coughing fit turned into random blimps on her skin or odd wounds forming, blood gashing out in waterfalls and healing in instants. Teeth and hair falling out before quickly regrowing, skin falling off in odd patches, muscle being exposed almost everyday for mere moments before her body would miraculously heal itself. Or, that's how it started. Jael managing to turn a mostly blind eye (of course trying to help for the most part, but being small things like wet rags or melatonin), taking her words as truth. Though, the quality of this sickness decreasing. Eyes falling out and having to be manually reintroduced, fingers and toes shrinking and decreasing--and the healing factor largely decreasing. Jael and Avery had to hold one another together.
Watching this devolving, Jael was determined to help his beloved in anyway: not being able to last through her agony. Not wanting to hear her hurt, or be in pain. Keeping Avery by his side, staying in their garage and desperately trying to craft a 'cure'. Not knowing much of its source or why it occurs, he merely guesses.
While not a cure, he was able to make a drug that she could inject nightly to keep her body stable.
Managing to keep her in a livable quality, they could return to their peace once more, Jael remaining by her side in early though realizing just how odd this disease was, and how rapidly it progressed. Seeing just how stable his beloved was, he opted to spend most of his days (and nights) delving into preventing almost anything that could occur. Crafting new medicine with barely any purpose, experimenting with chemicals and anything he could.
Though accidentally, after merely months slowly strayed from just trying to take care of his wife to inventing anything he could. A (notably finicky) way to clone living beings, a way to teleport small distances, odd new elements, robots solely made to move pepper shakers or shut doors, anything he could.
To his fear, he forgot to craft her cure in his third month of slowly straying, and she fell to a low she hadn't before.
Waking in the morning to find his wife a pile of flesh and stray odd muscle--like her skin had fallen off of her body without a cut. He sits, staring, completely horrified by the mere completely immobile state of his lover--hoping she was unconscious.
Horrified, and beating himself up mentally over the fact that her fall was his fault. Not knowing how to... reattach skin, cleanly, he shakily, through sobs, had to explain to first responders that this was a human and not a person he murdered.
Assuming she was gone, that he had lost her.
Watching as true medical professionals took his wife, only hoping they could give her a peaceful departure.
Once alone, sitting on his blood covered bed, he leaves the mess as it was his only reminder.
Why was he cursed like this? Why was she cursed like this? He had no idea. Why would he neglect her? He was alone now, left to his machines.
Utilizing his work as a form of escapism, he near hyper focuses on his machines, notably trying to recreate conscious.
Developing the salt shakers into something more thinking, and trying to make more, little to no success being found. Human shapes out of wireframe, small attempts at motor function with barely any of it working.
Months spent trying to make something near human, until, eventually (while absently) he succeeds. Making a new technology: a new kind of advanced self learning AI, and of course new parts never seen before. that could near replicate how he viewed Avery: Smart, athletic, social, anything one would desire. Though, not expecting much to happen, he had nothing to loose. Squeezing a small sample of blood from the blankets (now in the corner of his room) and recreating a small patch of her skin from the DNA he could scavenge, plastering it onto the metal wireframe he had made. Quickly spreading, this skin almost completely covered the wireframe by the time he had woken up the next day, nearly identical features overall aside from the skin as well.
Deciding that, maybe he could replicate her, to avoid feeling as lonely, he opts to.
Stashing the bloody blankets in his closet, dressing the nude version of his wife.
Then, after said and done, gently scarring R-Av on the bottom of it's jaw--a place it wouldn't see.
R, standing for robot, and Av being his nickname for his fallen.

Part 2.

Breathing in and out, he grabs her limp body and sluggishly carries her into their bed, keeping her powered off until the following morning. Upon waking, he rolls over, and--closing his eyes--squeezes her right shoulder to active her.
After she sits up, he scoots back, mostly out of fear of his machine failing. Though, to his surprise, she acted almost exactly like his beloved. Uncanny. Initially unnerved, he grows comfortable with the concept of... living with a robotic version of his (assumed) dead wife.
Things go smoothly for only a handful of days before... her faults kick in. The errors of its programming.
Once every few days, she would 'glitch', Berating him vocally. Talking down to him, insulting him, anything. He could handle this, what he had to give to avoid loneliness. What semi aided in ignoring such was her swearing she had no idea. Again, he assumed such was just a bug.
These weird episodes continued absently, until they, when he had become accustom, turned into physical beating. Usually just a slap or punch, sometimes yanking his hair or loose flesh. Of course, it angered him greatly--and left great marks. Slightly considering powering her off, though he hadn't. Largely, because he would end up lonely again. Dealing with the bullying, and overall opting not to hit back--mama always said not to hit a woman. Especially not what was his woman.
After only a month of this creation, though, he got a call from... the hospital, that he had administered Avery to. She had gotten... better? No further explanation given, though, even when processing.
How would he handle her with this abuser of an android present? He did know, though, that it would be an easy stop to the torment.
Maybe he could get back at it too.
Walking inside from his lab, he finds it sitting, peacefully on their couch--playfully greeting him.
"You're an artificial." he says, bluntly.
"What?" Her face scrunches, out of confusion.
"I made you to replace the real Avery. You're an android. I just got told she's alive, and you have no more use." he says, stepping forward to power her off as she begs for her life.
Before, as he reaches his hand out, she suggests (more begs) to be allowed to see the real her.
What's the worst that could happen? He thinks, allowing her to come.
Grabbing her hair (mostly an attempt to restrain her, not wanting anything to happen), and walking and dragging her to the hospital. Some odd glances, but thankfully nothing happened on the (brief) walk there.
Walking through, he allows her to stand as they request for Avery's room and make their way to the door. He knocks, the robot behind him as the nurse opens the door.
His misfortune resurfaces.
The last thing he wanted happens: her bug kicks in once more, and she suddenly appears to the left of Avery's bed in mere seconds, slashing a hole in her chest in one swift motion before they could react.
His wife was dead, again, truly.
He wasn't even able to speak to her.
Before he could blink, something 'wonderful' happened.
Her corpse, Jael, and the robot are warped to his backyard, Avery's bloody corpse lay in a 6 feet deep hole while the android held a shovel.
"Bury her, will you?" it asks, not even attempting to look back.
Not caring about the outcome, he swiftly reaches forward and puts his hand on her shoulder.

Part 3.

Still being alive (to his surprise) R-Av falls limp. Acting quickly (even though she wouldn't turn back on) he grabs the robot, and brings it to their home's barren basement. Bringing down a chair from their table, and duck taping her body to the wooden chair in the center.
Deciding to interrogate her for why it had done it.
Right before grabbing the shabby metal bat he had prepared for home defense, he realizes he had that prototype cloning chamber, from years ago.
Deciding to wait so Avery could do the same back, he opts to modify the machine to, instead of creating new cells, regenerate dead ones.
Grabbing his wife's dead body, he lays such in the entry chamber's icky water.
taking a screwdriver to the machines wiring, he modifies it to only heal her wounds and internal bleeding. Not even knowing if it would function. Nothing to lose, though. He closed the glass door, and powers it on.
In mere minutes (likely as a result of originally being made for something much larger) his wife was fully revitalized. Turning it off and opening the tube, she sits up, gasping for air.
He explains what had happened, the fact that she had been slaughtered by a replica, and apologizing for making it. She, in response, tells him she won't get upset (to his relief). After the awkward conversation that was explaining all of that (and the hugs and general reintroductions) he explains his plan to interrogate the android. She shrugs, agreeing.
"Might as well." she mumbles, her vocal cords still sore.
They both stride into the room, Jael holding the bat and aiding his weak wife in walking. They open the door, close it behind them, and he powers the android on.
It squirms and struggles slightly, its eyes wide, fear engulfing them. He looks at his wife, smiles slightly and kisses her cheek, and swings the bat against it's forehead, a loud clang sound being produced.
He asks a dozen or so questions to it, Avery chiming in every so often. A pretty wide array, though usually dumbed down to why she had done it.
She had no answer.
Standing and berating it pointlessly had no use, though they kept for a period, he powered her off for what should be the last time.
"So.. what do we do with it?" Avery asks.
That is a problem, he thinks. He couldn't possibly bury what was practically an entire person. Dropping the bat, he asks: "What do you suppose we do?"
In response, she smiles smugly, before finally making steady eye-contact. "Well, I've always wanted a daughter."
Smart, and of course she would ask. Keeping her at his side for the entire period, he holds her close and monitors her health closely. Remodeling the android as carefully as he could, biologically engineering its physical appearance and modifying her mental.
Making her taller, slimmer, with bright, scraggly orange hair and... cat ears and a tail. A suggestion by Avery that he felt indebted to give. Avery sat and sewed new clothes for her up-and-coming daughter while he worked. A yellow vest, with a spotted long sleeve T-shirt. Using one of her belts, she sews her a bright blue pair of pants with big stars sewn into them. Painting a pair of her old shoes, she makes the toe, laces, and tongue yellow--the body white with red dots.
They named her Naomi.

Part 4.

Months pass, and things maintain a sense of peace. They had a daughter now, though--bringing Avery almost immense joy. Her illness was still present, but he still maintained his cures for her sickness. This time, though, he wouldn't forget. Naomi was rather snarky, but after a while the teenager mentality got set aside, and she was pretty sweet. Once every blue moon, she would have an odd spurt of being rude, but he assumed that was just a perk that came with her personality.
They were able to be happy, though. Gritting their teeth, Jael's teeth, through the struggle prior brought great satisfaction. He hadn't thought on touching his machines in a good while. He was happy again.Suddenly, though, one late autumn day, things would change for far worse than just a robot malfunctioning. For mere seconds, Jael would catch a glimpse of a woman with red hair, before things went black.

Chapters.

Biography.

Jael, after seeing a red flair, Jael is almost instantly warped to a pitch black void, small echoes whispering to every side. His body felt... light, and upon looking down, sees that he's... conventionally what would be considered a ghost. Without time to really gather his thoughts, the voices begin to speak.
Explaining his sins and the great things he had done, and that he truly was at fault for what had happened to Avery. Though, because he had kept her away from her illness, for as long as he could, he was given the punishment of... having to watch the rest of his daughter's life? Not seeming like much of a punishment, not at all. Accepting it (not like he was given a choice), he was stationed constantly north of his daughter, 4 or so feet. Watching as Naomi perilously tries to break out of a room she was (from what he assumed) locked in, to watching her sitting and sobbing over his and Avery's limp bodies.
I wish I could help, he thought. He couldn't. Not physically capable of interacting, only watching. He watched as she sporadically modified her body, no grasp of what her goal was. For months, she reprogrammed herself, day in and day out. Until, eventually, she had finished--stepping out of his lab's door for her first time and... getting warped to an icy, blizzard enveloped suburban neighborhood. He watched as she freaked out, sobbed, watched as she felt fear. Watching such was gut-wrenching. She discovers a person... folded up inside of a box? Something physically impossible. The girl unfolds and stands, like she hadn't felt fear, or that she was made of rubber. Naomi, initially forcing this girl away, eventually became friends with her. It felt nice watching his recluse of a daughter making friends. He, also, felt somewhat comforted around Naomi's new friend--even if they couldn't interact.
He watched as her spurts become more frequent, more people showing up and, suddenly--Naomi had began to glow, weirdly, something new after months. Maybe it was a modification she had made? Watching this, marveling at what he believed to be some kind of engineering she had done, she's split into two, another girl popping out that looked nothing like Naomi. A plus of this was following, Naomi stopped having her odd spurts. She seemed a lot happier, spending a lot of her time with her little blue friend. Talking (though most words were barely above a mumble, assuming his ghost-like body making hearing hard) about things he couldn't grasp, but talking. Having fun. She seemed happy, months passing in this--hoping she can be happy, live the life he wanted for her.
She couldn't. Within (what he assumed to be) around a year, he watches as the purple-eyed girl (the one who had split from Naomi) killed both Naomi and her friend.
As Naomi dies, everything around him goes dark, and without allowing him to grieve he's told that he was now allowed to pass on, fully. He didn't care about passing, he wanted his daughter safe. Unable to explain, or formulate, or anything though--he's warped to a ghostly apartment made of clouds and things only seen from literature he had read in his youth.
Upon arrival, he is finally, allowed to grieve, to let his feelings envelope him--within a place of his own, once more.

Chapters.

Biography.

Avery was raised in wealth--hating almost every part. Her parents frequently absent, the fact most material gains meant nothing, almost all of it. Keeping such hidden from her public school classmates, she made it her duty to be as talkative and social as she could--an effort to get the only thing money couldn't buy, the one thing more valuable. One would assume that she would be completely swarmed by people because of this wealth, but both by her hiding it and being 'weird' (really, just one to express her interests outwardly and them not being sports). Upon transitioning, though, fully achieving such on her entry to college, she opted for a generally smaller lifestyle. Going to class, going to the home her parents had bought for her, rinse repeat. Finding most people to be carbon copies of one another, this furthered her desire to remain small. On another note, at random she would lose sensation in her finger tips, have random nose bleeds, or other odd bodily occurrences. Stuff she could brush off.
In her third year of college, she had found an odd little (mentally, he was around 6 feet tall physically) man who was like her in her youth. Outwardly himself. It was cute, nice to be around. Becoming friends quickly, they hung out frequently, the vibe of a lost dog really keeping her near him. She only found out after two weeks that his name was Jael. Most of his time outside of his courses was spent inventing things. A lot of which she couldn't grasp, but it was nice to hear him so passionate.
One day though, late near their Junior year, he asked her out.
Why not? he's cute.
Years pass from college, Avery graduating while Jael dropped out shortly after they met (something she highly disagreed with). Marrying in their late twenties, only handful of years after they began dating. He had moved in shortly after he dropped out, something he really didn't think needed to happen. Upon entry, though, he had renovated her barren garage into a little lab for his mad scientist projects.
Living relatively peacefully for a time, Jael obsessing with his machines, though still managing to make time for her.
Though, through this duration Avery would slowly have more numb spots or times where she was overall feeling ill--though her assuring Jael of their security.
After around a year of this starting, these coughing fits turned into random blimps on her skin or odd wounds forming, blood gushing out like a waterfall and healing in an instant, in many large spurts. Losing sight in her eye, skin falling off in odd patches, muscle being exposed almost everyday for mere moments before her body would miraculously heal itself. Or, that's how it started.
Though the pain was unimaginable, something she had to sob through nightly, she had to reassure her husband she was okay. He would worry so much his skin would fall off if she didn't. Jael could turn a blind eye--mostly, he would sometimes give her a wet rag or medicine, trying to help. Though, the quality of this sickness decreasing. Eyes falling out and having to be manually reintroduced, fingers and toes shrinking and decreasing--and the healing factor largely decreasing. She had to hold her body together, like a tower collapsing but being saved by bandages. Her comforting doing little after this, Jael was persistent on using his science stuff to help her.
Keeping her by his side near 24/7 (they ended up sleeping in his garage often), he tried to make a cure. Begging for more information, she couldn't give anything--she didn't even know why it happened, and her parents wouldn't respond.
While not a cure, he was able to make something that she could inject nightly to keep her body stable. Managing to keep her in a livable state, they could return to their peace once more. Jael staying by her early on though eventually distances to his machines--to help. A lot of the things he made were pretty gimmicky, but she was fine--and he was having fun.
Gloating about making a cloning machine, or a little robot that could open their doors or open pickle jars. Weird science fiction stuff.
After a few months of him being absent, he forgot to supply her with her medicine. Not wanting to bug him, she opted to just... sleep it off. She would be okay, he'd give it to her tomorrow. Sleeping earlier than usual, she wouldn't be okay--not in the way she envisioned.
Opening her eyes the (what she believed to be) following morning, she found herself in an odd room unfamiliar to her.

Part 2.

She opens her eyes to herself laying on a plastic tray inside of an uncomfortable dark space, a disgusting smell wafting around her. Without any other idea of what to do, she screams. For help, to be heard, anything. The pungent smell made her nose burn and her ears ring. After minutes of shouting, a middle aged woman in purple scrubs opens whatever was keeping her locked in, the girl quaking. Upon seeing her, she screams, slamming the door and running--luckily the metal door bounced so Avery was able to squirm out. Upon leaving it, she finds similar body cupboards to the one she was in. Standing and looking around, the room is a dingy white, with dozens of these corpse cabinets, two deceased people in body bags were in the shelves underneath her.
Is this a morgue? She assumed it was, given the general vibe and the woman's nurse attire. Upon trying through the room's wooden door, she finds it locked. Why was she inside of a morgue, and locked inside of a hospital no less?
She bangs on the door repetitively for a time she couldn't identify, until a doctor and two police officers walk in, the officers pointing tasers at her. Instinctively raising her hands, she stays put as the man with the stethoscope walks over and checks where she woke up.
"Where's the body?" he asks, looking back at her, his gruff voice quaking slightly.
Is he talking about her? She responds with one word: "Me?" generally confused as to whatever was happening.
These questions kept coming, most were confusing and felt obvious. Who she was, why she was in the morgue, things like that. She was her? She really didn't know how to explain it.
"No, Avery Blanchern was the woman we admitted last night, not you. She also didn't look... human."
What's this guy talking about?
Without being given much time to think, he asks for a blood sample--explaining that she was trespassing and if need-be it would be taken by fore.
She sighs, and allows him to prick her with a small needle, before one of the officers walks out and the door is locked once-more, one of the policemen staying in the morgue with her to 'ensure property damage is kept at a minimum'.
Within only a handful of hours, a small looking nurse, awkward and afraid, walks in and apologizes for their treatment of her--dismissing the officer and bringing her into a vacant hospital room. No explanation as for why, she's told to stay put. Being fed regularly, after a handful of days the situation is explained vaguely to her: something about paperwork she couldn't find much sense in.
Weeks pass in this odd loop, sorta being housed for free in the hospital.
Though, after what felt like ages, she's informed that what they needed to do had been finished, though they needed her to sign an NDA stating she would keep all of this hush-hush. She did, because it was basically her dismissal requirement.
Following her signing it, and them putting into a filing cabinet, the nurse who had taken care of her informed hat they had called her husband, who would arrive shortly.
In only a few hours, Jael was standing in the room's doorway, with... herself? She saw, by Jael, an exact clone of herself but with yellow eyes. What even--before she could finish even thinking, a hand was slicing itself through her chest, things going dark once more. Forcefully, this time.

Part 3.

Waking up inside of a tube filled with an odd, sticky liquid she sees Jael eyeing her through the glass before opening it quickly. Did she just die? How am I meant to process this, she thought. Without further time to contemplate, he comes out the gate with the fact he made an android version of her, and that's what killed her. Climbing out of the vat, he keeps talking, her ears ringing and her brain swirling.
All she could make out was a question, no further context though.
"Might as well." she mumbles, her vocal cords still sore from not speaking for weeks.
He guides her into the basement they hadn't used much of all, seeing herself tied to a chair. So surreal, she thinks. He looks at her, kisses her, and beats her near identical clone--hurling questions at it while she sat back and had what could best be described as a panic attack. She couldn't pay attention to anything but her own thoughts--having died, then watching the man she loves beating her... kind of.
After powering her off, she asks: "So.. what do we do with it?" That's just me, what would he think to do with it? More worry swarms.
Dropping the bat, he asks: "What do you suppose we do?"
Of course he would ask. Maybe he could reutilize it?
"Well, I've always wanted a daughter."
Smart, and of course she would ask--Jael had been uncomfortable with the concept of having sex for a while. Keeping her at his side for the entire period, he holds her close and monitors her health closely. Remodeling the android as carefully as he could.
Making her taller, slimmer, with bright, scraggly orange hair and... cat ears and a tail. Cats are cute, so a cat-girl would be cute by proxy right? Avery sat and sewed new clothes for her up-and-coming daughter while he worked. A yellow vest, with a spotted long sleeve T-shirt. Using one of her belts, she sews her a bright blue pair of pants with big stars sewn into them. Painting a pair of her old shoes, she makes the toe, laces, and tongue yellow--the body white with red dots.
They named her Naomi.

Part 4.

A good while passes, and things maintain comfortability. She had a kid now, someone to take care of. Her pain was still present, but Jael put his all into protecting her health. To make up for prior. Naomi was rather witty, the way a teenager was--rude, kinda snarky--but a sweetheart. She often helped Avery clean, cook, anything she needed. Once every blue moon, Naomi would have an odd spurt of being extra rude, but it could be overlooked rather easy.
They were able to be happy, though. Though some mental anguish from her deaths, she was aided in moving on and healing by those around her. The most Jael would use the garage for was creating her medicine, he oddly hadn't been doing much engineering (or whatever he called it).
She found her peace oncemore.
As abrupt as every other time, late in the year, she loses her life, this time in a way that Jael can't repair her from. Right before going dark, she would catch a glimpse of a woman with red hair, Before the world went suddenly dark.

Upon things darkening, Avery sees the world darken--literally. not like closing her eyes, like the world around her went pitch black. She feels herself be grabbed by something much bigger than her by her foot.
being set into an odd box shaped thing, still unable to move, she blinks, and opening her eyes would change everything.

Chapters.

Biography.

Niko finds herself sitting in an odd black place, devoid of any light, and with no memories at all. Her head empty, just a couple feelings on her surroundings. She couldn't think back much, or pick details, just that she was in her late teens--just graduated. She couldn't move either, like she was paralyzed. Months passed like this--trying desperately to pull out her memories, and failing, stuck in limbo. After this painfully long time, she feels herself transported into somewhere cramped, the thing around her cold to the touch. She felt like her face was pressed thin onto her cleavage, and her entire body was folded like a towel, but without pain. Upon the small space opening, she unfolds, standing fully for the first time, feet landing on snow, finally being able to move. She feels something on her forehead, and sees an odd woman, much taller than her with cat ears standing before her. She felt an odd way towards her, like there was something there she had with this girl but she couldn't pinpoint it.
The girl jumps whenever she unfolds from (what Niko had discovered to be) her box.
"Uh, hello?" Niko says, with no response. Instead, the girl reaches out and, with her thumb and forefinger, takes the sticky note off of her forehead.
"Niko..." the girl mutters.
"I'm Naomi." The girl continues, completely unprompted.

Part 2.

Completely frozen by the absurdity of this girl's appearance: her colorful and cartoonish clothing, her bright orange hair, her... cat ears and tail--even though it felt like a sort of plus, it was unnatural.
"Well, it's nice to meet you... Naomi." Niko says, trailing off as she glances around--admiring the snowy environment around her.
"Where...is this?" Niko asks. Doesn't look that natural, it looks apocalyptic.
"I don't really know." Naomi says, rubbing the back of her neck. Her slightly gruff but high voice makes Niko feel...oddly protected. She seems strong too, looming over Naomi with greater height. She looked around 6 foot, but that may have just been her perception.
Naomi sighs slightly before continuing, cutting into Niko's daydreaming. "Pretty easy living, though. Aside from the climate, food is weirdly abundance--plus there's no jobs." She laughs at her own joke, showing off her fangs--cute.
Naomi asks Niko if she would like to come home with her. Why not? Well, better question, what else could she do? She's pretty incompetent, she doubts her own ability to build a fire--much less shelter. It's either with Naomi, or sleep in the cold. Niko accepts, and Naomi gently grabs her hand, guiding her through the winter, into a house less destroyed than the rest. Opening the door for Niko, they both walk inside.
The layout was fairly simple. To the left of the small walkway following the doorway was an odd 'couch'. That's according to Naomi, it was actually just some chairs and blankets. Within eyesight of the door, was a pantry--according to Naomi--though she didn't keep anything in there. Walking further left was a hand built nightstand, held together by nails and tape. Turning right from the nightstand, was a set of stairs, and upstairs was a doorway right in front of the stairs. To the far right of this, (horizontally to the door), was another door. This balcony was lined with a destroyed railing, some tape keeping parts together. There were small holes and cracks in the roof, as well.
In other regards, it was mostly barren--furniture very obviously handmade, a pile of canned food in the corner. The closest to true quality appliances was a couple blankets, and a sketchbook that was poking out slightly from her 'couch'. Finally introducing Niko to the house's layout, The room in front of the stairs was Naomi's room. She briefly opened the door, before excitedly leading Naomi to the door to the right--this of which was what Niko's room could be, if she so desired of course.
She did, having a room would be wonderful.
After situating Niko into her bed, Naomi explains the concept of them needing to go outside and scavenge for food. She had been doing it alone for months, so, of course, Niko mentions the fact she would be willing to scavenge for a week or two.
Saying this probably wasn't the best idea.
On the first day of this duty, she almost dies of hypothermia. The sensation of the cold canned goods pressing against her chest didn't help either, though her boots helped keeping her feet warm.
This sort of loop went on for these two weeks. Collecting every other day, coming back and conversing with Naomi, sleeping--the blankets being immense clarity from the cold--then doing it again. Though, something she wasn't made aware of (what Niko would call) Naomi's Dissociative identity disorder. At odd times, Naomi would become weirdly aggressive, insulting Niko in every which way. Usually, when this would happen, everything would go dark around them except for the two. Usually it was just bullying--something Niko could handle--but sometimes it was small bouts of slapping or hitting. The only real indication of this change, would be Naomi's eyes turning an odd red color. This combination of things of course would hurt Niko, mostly mentally. But, Naomi was Niko's only way to live, so she was kind of stuck with her. She grew to be able to ignore it, grit her teeth.
During this time, aswell, (when she wasn't in her altered state of mind) Niko began to grow as a form of caretaker for Naomi. Of course, she could handle herself and they were near the same age, but Naomi's maturity and ability to keep her anger or emotions tame was lacking. Niko helped her be mentally grounded, and Naomi aided in Niko's survival. It was a kind of give or take, except Naomi did a lot more giving.
Though, near the end of these two weeks, upon entering their home, she was gifted with a warm hand-knit sweater Naomi had made her.
That's why she was in her room so often.
Thanking her, greatly, she would wear it when it was her time to scavenge--which was only twice a week because of them finally sharing this responsibility.
For months, this is all they did. Sometimes, they would go out together to continue a conversation or on especially cold or windy days.
On one of these days, though, Naomi and Niko would find a woman laying gently in the snow.

Part 3.

Naomi was the first to approach, silently squatting over the girl and poking and prodding her. Niko, walking forward to tell her off, stands behind Naomi. The girl was probably a bit shorter than Naomi, and dark skinned--wearing warm clothes. Lucky. Her eyes were gently closed, like she was sleeping. She lays there for several minutes, before her eyes open and she moves her arm to hold herself up, Naomi jumping back--tail poofing up how it had been when she was startled. As a result of Naomi jumping, Niko did aswell--neither speaking still. Like two kids finding a cool rock.
Realizing they should probably house this girl, she elbows Naomi as she goes and squats infront of the girl, Naomi following, though standing.
She was crying.
After a handful of seconds,
Niko, though confused and rather stressed, begins to speak while stuttering.
"It's okay!" Niko says, a fruitless attempt at comfort.
"We won't hurt you, I promise." She says, smiling a little bit, before it falls.
"I'm Niko, and--" She puts her hands on her knees, looking back to Naomi. She wasn't looking at the crying girl, instead she was looking at her nails.
"--and that's Naomi." She says, turning back to the girl.
She quickly mumbles 'please don't cry' mostly to herself.
The girl wipes her eyes, breathing in and out--wincing as she sits and then stands.
"Can I go home?" The girl asks, her voice soft and shaky, an odd gravel to it.
Niko frowns.
"I don't think so, no..." Her voice trailing off.
"But we could try to make this livable for you! We have a safe place, thing..." Not really knowing how to describe what it was.
"Okay." She replies, rather sternly. Was that her saying she wanted to Come?
Upon standing, and grabbing the girl's hand, she quickly swats her hand away.
"I can walk on my own, thank you." the girl says, rather sarcastically.
Niko quietly apologizes, as she begins walking back to their house, Naomi walking by her side with the girl behind her. On the way there, she explains her name is Sora, though that's all she really said.
When they arrive, Sora looks around--seemingly judging their living situation. Still awkward Niko begins meekly setting up a scrappy pile of blankets and handsewn pillows in the corner.
"This is the closest we can get to a bed for you." Niko says, rather somberly.
"It's fine." Sora says, oddly bitter.
"Of course, you could try the couch, but I don't know if it could fully support a person." Niko says, smiling at her own joke--Sora didn't even respond.
Upon standing awkwardly, Naomi quickly briefs Sora on her new duty to go and look through the abandoned buildings for food before she grabs Niko by the wrist, dragging her into Naomi's room, slamming the door as they both sit down. Niko assumed she wanted to say something poor about Sora, but after sitting in silence for what felt like an hour, she hadn't. The first thing they began speaking on was the conversation that was cut off earlier--Niko's opinions on teriyaki chicken.
Their days went back to normal, until Naomi had another episode and set hands on Sora. After her episode stopped, Sora immediately tried to hurt Naomi, Niko having to desperately hold her back, explaining everything and begging Sora to forgive her.
This was the only notable thing, though. Niko and Naomi would hang out, while Sora avoided them, at least it felt like. Someone would scavenge, come back, they'd eat (Niko usually being the one to cook things, usually over a fire) and then they would disperse, Naomi and Niko returning to hanging out while Sora sat and daydreamed.
During this time is when Naomi explained her notebook--it was mostly sketches of designs of odd sci-fi looking robots, occasional sketches of things Naomi wanted to build. Commenting on the robot drawings, Naomi would explain that they were originally ideas of how she would upgrade herself--then offhand explaining that she was a robot. Like, an android. From futuristic movies and stuff. I guess that explains her bright yellow eyes and her face slit, and all of her (what seemed to be) resistance to the cold.
After this, though, their nightly conversations would return to normal.
Days turning to weeks, the first time all three went out to scavenge, whenever they returned Naomi's alter would take over, insulting Niko as usual but beating Sora to an extent she hadn't before. Once things returned to a sense of how it was prior, Niko wouldn't be able to convince Sora to not take 'revenge', and Sora was much stronger than her.
ripping from her grasp, Sora began questioning Naomi heavily, pinning her to the ground and holding her down, all she would say was her not knowing anything about what happened.
Sora getting angrier by the minute, Niko watches as she raises a fist, before Naomi's body is torn away from her arm--glowing bright white and floating a foot or two off of the floor.
Niko watches as Sora expresses her first instance of fear since she showed up, Niko also stepping back--worrying greatly about her friend's potential condition.
This went on for minutes, and once the glowing and floating stopped, Naomi and a person unknown to both Sora and Niko fell to the floor.
The girl wearing a clean t-shirt and rubber rainboots, her hair dirty blonde her eyes an odd purple, a similar facial slit like Naomi.
Naomi waking up first, and seeing the person by her quickly pins her to the floor as they groggily awake. Niko would do little to stop her, not like she could--what was even happening?
Naomi angrily hurling questions at her as herself and Sora stood back, watching as Naomi yelled and punched the defenseless teen.
After an uncomfortable amount of time, Naomi steps back, and the girl stands.
Naomi asks for her name, and in reply, the girl states: "Raven", shaky and weak. After she finishes speaking, an odd smile forms on her face--like she had said something funny.

Part 4.

After introductions finish (Niko once again having to introduce everyone) and settling Raven, Niko and Naomi depart again, leaving Raven and Sora alone.
The following day, though, Raven also began to have Naomi's episodes. Was it like, a robot thing maybe? Naomi's seemed to have stopped.
Whenever Niko would return from her scavenging that day, she would find Raven missing, being informed of this episode by Sora. Upon inquiring on Raven's absence, Sora nonchalantly says that she locked her in the pantry. As Niko tells her off, she walks towards the pantry to free her--she's just a kid, dude. Sora needs to get a grip.
As she steps forward, Sora speaks without moving.
"Let her out and I will beat her. You could stop me with Naomi, but I'm completely done with this shit."
Niko can't stop her.
Sighing, she lets her head drop as she walks back to Naomi, her mood drastically fallen.
Naomi notices, asks what's wrong, as Niko sits back down, once more, and is pried by Naomi.
After explaining, Naomi unsurprisingly taking Sora's side. Why are they both so rude to this girl? She isn't that bad and she's new. She had treated Naomi well, why can't they treat her like that?
Whatever.
Months pass further, nothing really changing even though the house has four people now. Niko desperately tries to keep her mind off Raven, though it was oddly difficult. She really does deserve a chance. Nobody showed any sympathy for her.
Niko, upon it being once more Raven's turn to scavenge (and hoping the two had cooled down on Raven) begs them to all go with her, as a group. To get acquainted, it would be nice, Niko thinks. Raven seems oddly uncaring about it, or rather silent. Sora upright refuses, but Naomi accompanies them--to "protect Niko."
Raven, Niko, and Naomi leave--with Sora going against her word shortly after and rushing out, trying to act like she really didn't wanna go but 'Niko had a look', not explaining further.
Their out for a small while, until Sora walks away from the group, promising to return soon.
Nothing really happens, everything being quiet and awkward--Niko's attempts at socializing failing.
A dozen or so minutes after Sora leaves, though, Ravens eyes cut to Red, her outfit changing to an odd red suit.

Everything goes black, as Naomi and Niko lock in place Niko bracing herself.
Raven walks over to Naomi, Niko's head forcefully turning to face her. She watches as raven presses her hand slowly into Naomi's chest, blood slowly pooling out until her skin pops like a balloon full of water. Niko watching through tears, seeing as Raven slowly wriggles her fingers around in Naomi's metal insides--Naomi screaming in agony--the blood becoming more artificial looking the more that runs out. Forced to watch as her closest friend is murdered, the feeling of her being a daughter to her quickly morph into her realizing that she truly was. Niko remembers brief clots of her old Avery memories, notably of Naomi's creation and her love for her. This realization stops nothing, and Niko's skin melts over her mouth to keep her silent. Turmoiling in silence over dozens of things at once. Raven puts her other hand in, ripping Naomi's torso in two as she takes another hand out and gently rests it on Naomi's face. Before, in one big burst, Naomi's head ignites, Naomi screaming in agony as her head is scorched--dead.
Her body drops to the floor as Raven slowly walks over to Niko, smug.
without saying a word, she stands before her, Niko quaking. Raising an arm, One of Naomi's arms being sent directly into Raven's hand, which Raven plunges deep into Niko's chest, watching as her blood pools out of her chest, her brain losing ability to comprehend as blood runs from her mouth.
In her last moments, she watches as her heart lays at the end of her daughter's hand, like a fork with a piece of meat at the end.

Chapters.

Gallery.

Biography.

In high school, she started the tradition of dying her left side bang pink, such a tradition staying for the rest of her life. In her later years of high-school, Lillian had dated what was considered a fuckboy, only finding this out after she got a positive test back. Getting kicked out of her parent's house shortly after they found out she was pregnant at 19, she raised her son, Bryce, in her twenties. As a result of having a kid so young and raising such, she looks notably older than she really is. Having to work full time to pay for her college courses and a babysitter for her son, she infrequently saw him--usually on weekends and the occasional holiday. Getting hired at a nearby hospital, more specifically Our Lady's Tears, she was given the ability to gain experience in the field even before finishing college, leading her to thrive after finishing her four years. Thankfully being able to buy a car (a surprisingly cheap Toyota Corolla), getting to her job was cut in more than half--most public transport not around where she lived.
Her son mostly being raised by a babysitter greatly upset her, though the one to stick was named Angelica, or Angie--a teenage girl who her son seemed to like more than most. Plus, She let Lillian pay less, which was nice.
Even Though Lady's Tears had workers who had worked for much longer than her, new hires would commonly go to her--probably assuming she knew more than she did by her physical appearance.
Stress can do a number.
In late August one year, she would spend her two only off days bringing her son around--to the nearby park, to get (cheap) ice-cream, more or less begging him to not forget she exists. He was 10, it's not like he would--but she was worried either way.
Not having a father is already gonna be hard for him.
These two days come and go, how they always have, though.
And once more, she's kissing her son goodnight--making sure he's ready for class tomorrow, and getting in bed herself.

Part 2.

Waking up hours before the sun rises--near 5, she hastily brushes her teeth, showers and dries herself, and puts on the last pair of clean scrubs she had. I've gotta wash clothes, she thinks absently. Stuffing her shoes on her feet and grabbing her phone, she unlocks her car and gets inside, driving almost completely out of habit.
Taking the long drive to her job oncemore. the hour of solitude gave her time to think. Putting on music as usual in an effort to wake herself up (with fail) she'll probably just get coffee at the machine again. Watching the grey scenery of monochrome cars and cheap business' while waiting at the occasional red light, she parks inside of the hospital's parking lot. She gets out her car, walking in--mentally preparing to be told she was once again meant to work ER, again. Of course, she is.
Walking to her room, she handles the usual patients.The occasional faking teen or adult wanting to skimp work, to men and women alike bloodied and bruised in ways she doesn't allow herself to think about. These poor people. She had conditioned herself to not care at all (if she did, she would probably have lost her mind a long time ago) she can't help but feel bad for a couple passing seconds. After the first four hours, she takes her mandated break, buying a soda from the vending machine to give into her caffeine addiction and sitting down in the metal seat. She forgot to bring her food, so she sorta just sat--thinking about her son and dreading getting back to work. Looking up at the clock, she sees only a quarter of her break was burnt out. Upon walking out of the break room, she sees one of her co-workers, in a sweat. Best to ignore that, she thinks.
Almost like they heard her, they rush up and start talking.
"Have you heard about that chick we brought in?"
No, of course I haven't.
They brief her on the situation. It was the wife of some cooky guy, who was almost completely skinned. No damage to muscle or bones, no ligaments torn--like her skin was taken off like a sleeve. Upon asking if they know what happened, they give a small no, before talking about how they think it was something supernatural. It was a medical mystery for sure, but nothing like that exists. How are they gonna hire someone who still believes in witches and magic? rolling her eyes, she makes up some excuse to leave the convo and return to absently walking around the halls, before she returns to work.
Finishing her shift later than usual, she makes the awkward drive home at near midnight--having been basically forced into overtime. Gently opening and closing the door to not wake Bryce, she slowly walks into her room, taking off her top and changing into a loose fit t-shirt. Brushing her teeth and getting into bed, she burns time on her phone until she closes her eyes, and waking up to her alarm blaring.
Waking up a dozen or so minutes late--and already cutting it close with her alarms--she hastily throws on her top, brushes her teeth, grabbing the lunch that she had meant to bring yesterday alongside her phone, and got into her car.
Lillian takes the lengthy drive once-more to work. Though it was only the hour, the solitude gave her time to think. About her son, keeping a roof over their head--anything. Mainly, though, worrying about what would happen this shift. She always dreaded getting assigned to ER, but today especially. She arrives on time as usual, her supervisor almost immediately informing her that she was, in fact, to
work in the emergency room. Just fully change her from sick-bay to ER at this point.
Walking into the bay, things went about as normal. The occasional faking teen or adult wanting to skimp work, to men and women alike bloodied and bruised in ways she doesn't allow herself to think about. These poor people. Out of her 8 hour shift, her only break is the 4 hour mark for her legally obligated 15 minute lunch break, and maybe the occasional slow period--though that only lasted minutes. During this lunch period, however, she would experience something inhuman.
Sitting in the break room, she would slowly stab at the usual crappy lunch she would end up packing, before finishing it and deciding to walk around the lower, less populated areas. Like she always had. Taking the elevator down, the second she stepped foot from it she heard someone screaming. Screaming bloody murder. Though, that was something that happened pretty often, rowdy patients were common. This screaming was nonstop, and coming from a part of the hospital where patients aren't--or shouldn't be. Walking down the white tiled hallway, she finds the screaming seemingly coming from the morgue. Why would there be a person screaming in the morgue? Quaking, she slowly grabs the door knob, walking inside and being as quiet as she could. Listening further, the screaming was coming from inside of a corpse cabinet. Slowly reaching her hand out, shaking, she rips the door open, and there's a living woman on the top shelf. A living, breathing woman. Blonde, healthy white--alive, in the corpse cabinet. What the fuck? her thoughts swarmed, but she ran out of the room screaming before she could process.
Running to the elevator and mashing the button of which her supervisor resided, she ran out of the elevator shaking, into the faculty bathroom.
Slumping on the floor inside of one of the stalls, she breaths frantically in and out, desperately trying to stabilize her breathing.
This isn't normal, but it's not my problem, she thinks. Just tell Jaymie and get back to work.
Upon calming herself, she slowly walks out of the staff bathroom, to her supervisors office.
"There's a fuckin' living girl in one of the body bag shelves in the morgue."
"What?" Jaymie responds, confused--interrupted from what he was doing.
"I don't know if it's just a crackhead or some drunk person, but there's like a 20 year old chick in there." She continues.
"I'll send an officer and someone down there, just--" he sighs.
"just get back to work, please." he finishes.
she leaves his office, exhaling and wiping the sweat from her brow.
Her shift continues as normal, the occasional faking teen or adult wanting to skimp work or school, to men and women alike bloodied and bruised in ways she doesn't allow herself to think about. Mostly because her mind wouldn't leave the thought of that girl. What the hell was that?
Driving back home, she sat in silence. No music, just her eyes on the road. Why was there a living person in the morgue?
She pulls into the parking lot, desperately trying to clear her mind. Like usual, she got home late--Bryce was asleep and Angie had left already.
Going into her bedroom, she sat on her bed in the dark, thinking--well, trying not to specifically. She lays down, slamming her head onto her pillow and wrapping herself up in her cheap blankets tightly. Squeezing her eyes as tightly as possible, she tries desperately to sleep.

Part 3.

Upon waking up the following day, she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Droning through her morning routine, she takes the drag of an hour long ride to work--usually watching the murky grey skies and odd people up at that time helped as a brief moment of solace. But today, it was just more time for her mind to spiral. Upon walking in the door, her supervisor walked up and quickly informed her of what she knew he would, but, also something more surprising. He wanted her to sign an NDA? What could this possibly be about? Nothing interesting happens here, like, ever.
"That woman you found yesterday?" He says, enunciating like a question, but not pausing.
"She's apart of something way bigger than you, and we really need you to be hush-hush on it." He briefs. What? I'll sign it, but I definitely won't be quiet.
Going through the process of signing the lengthly legal form, afterwards dismissed to the Emergency Room again. The occasional faking teen or adult wanting to skimp work, to men and women alike bloodied and bruised in ways she doesn't allow herself to think about. Mainly because her mind was pre-occupied.
Absently going through the rest of her work-day, she drives back home and sleeps how she always has. At least it was normal, again. She had initially planned to gossip about what happened with a friend, but, she forgot she didn't have many of those--not ones that weren't from work anyway. Her time was evenly split between Brycie and her job, no real time for friends.
Having to rationalize the situation to herself--forcing herself to believe it was just a homeless person, or a teenager trying to mess with the hospital staff, though that was obviously not true. Can't do anything about it now, though. Just move on, she thinks.
Waking up the next morning, she goes about what she usually would with her son.
Spending her two only off day bringing her son around--to the nearby park, to get (cheap) ice-cream, more or less begging him to not forget she exists. He was 10, it's not like he would--but she was worried either way. Almost forgetting completely about what happened, her life returns almost completely to its loop as prior--though she was given one or two off days as a result of what happened. It was nice seeing her son smile at the fact mommy would be around a tiny bit more.

Description.

Naomi was made by her "father", Jael (and clothed by Avery, his wife and her mother.) After what had happened with his last creation, he didn't really wanna trash its parts. rebuilding it in its entirety, he made Naomi. A daughter for him and his wife--a complete family--to put a cap on Avery's desire for such. Slaving in his garage for weeks, they finish their production--sitting her on their home's dingy couch and powering her on.
She opens her eyes to see two people--who her mind tells her are her parents--ogling her every move. Rubbing her eyes, squinting at Jael's greying hair before she wiggles her fingers. Opening her mouth to speak, an odd scratchy voice comes out, her tail perking up.
"What're you guys doing?" she says, Avery letting out a small gasp--akin to a child.
"Hey baby!" Avery says, her voice bouncy and fluent, her high pitched voice bringing an odd sense of comfort to Naomi's 'heart'. Not a kid though, she's 16.
"Hey." Naomi says, voice flat as she watches Avery anticipate something further. Jael sat over to the side, picking at a stray string on the floor's carpet.
"Mom." Naomi finishes. Avery eyes light up, there was no reason not to.
Following this, she lived peacefully with her mother and father, living peacefully for only a handful of months. Whenever things were quiet, late night when everyone was attempting to sleep--when she was staring up at the sky from her dreary hand crafted room, she could hear the subtle hum of two people arguing in the back of her head. She assumed she was sorta losing herself--or her mind more specifically.
The only other notable thing during this period was the fact that she would blink and be in a completely different space, Jael quaking slightly or the same for Avery. Upon inquiring further, no response would be given to her.
Time passes in peace, tranquility enveloping her and her family.
For a time.
Late one autumn night, Naomi's ear would perk, sensing an odd rumbling from an area near--like a small tornado, kept stationary before it would quickly cease. Forcing herself into not reacting--not thinking, was the only thing she could think to do. Against her better judgement.
Without any prior warning, the double door bursts down--two people obscured with shadow hurling themselves in. Appearing about the same, a female outline with a red glint to them. Attempting to go on guard, this attempt is futile as one hurls her into Jael and Avery's bedroom, her body slamming against the brick painted wall as the door slams itself closed. Thrusting herself towards it with all of her might, her head collides with the wood, with no damage done to it--only the blood from her forehead being any indicator of the collision. She desperately bangs and scratches at the door--screaming and crying. No understanding of what was happening, or why they stowed her away--or what they wanted with Avery and Jael. Hours seemingly passed in this turmoil, with no desired result happening.
With no visual change (maybe one in strength), the door finally bursts down. This reveals, to Naomi's anguish, that everything but the room she was in had been torn to ruin, her caretakers mutilated and bloodied into near unrecognizable pulp on the floor.
Walls crumbling, flesh scattered about--but she was clean, and safe. Why? Why would she be spared but they were decimated? As blood continued to trickle from her forehead, its pigment slowly became more grey--smelling more and more of iron.
Was it an attempt to break her bare, tear everything from her that she held dear--or had at all? They were all she had. She was made for them--at least from what she believed. She was meant to help them, bring them joy. Her only purpose, what she was made for. They were dead. She wasn't human, of course, so they were likely relying on her for protection from potential threats. She failed.
She wouldn't fail again. Starting with avenging her parents--a murderer wouldn't get away so fast.
Dedicating her life to this goal, she enters the one place her father forbid her entrance: his workshop. How else would she get stronger?
Upon entering, dozens of mechanical wonders were before her--though none had any use to her. She was already a machine to start with, why not make herself better--she wouldn't have to rely on objects then.
And so she did. Finding one of her father's unused notebooks, she would sketch potential adjustments all over the pages. Adjusting her make and model for months, doing surgery on her body casually. Small things like storage cubbies in her stomach, or lighters and bottle openers in her fingers--to things more versatile like equipping her retinas with the ability to scan and summarize living matter. Anything of use, mostly. Though, this experimenting also led her to create something most useful (at least in her mind): The Deisteel. A blade she had crafted for the sole ability of killing a god. (Well, what she believed would be able to. It was rather pathetic, and only really made to serve this because of a slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind). It was, build wise, a scrappy and lumpy thing. It would be summoned by her tearing off her right arm--leading to the arm swiftly regenerating and the limb in her hand morphing into the sword. As a result of the...shaky... way of summoning it, its size and shape would vary. Though, to describe in a general sense, it was a metal chipped blade the same weight as her--slight wireframe visible in large chunks. The hilt is wrapped in a green band, with the tip curving akin to a feather. The true method of murder lay in this area of the weapon. The very tip was like a needle, and the entire blade was flowing with a gooey, purple liquid. A new element she had created over this period of solidarity. Having the properties of a snake's venom a dozen fold, it was more or less buffed horse tranquilizer. The only reason she believed it could smite a god was that its toxicant was far above the level of a normal human's handling. Because of this, she named it the God Killer Serum. The blade almost constantly excreting this from its tip. Alongside other adjustments of less noteworthiness, like making her model resistant to great temperatures or blunt force damage. She believed, after years, that she was ready to put an end to the reign of the one who had murdered her parents. Stuffing her notebook in her stomach and stepping outside of the garage's folding door, she--
Phases through the floor, into darkness, swiftly losing conciousness.

Part 2.

Opening her eyes, she sees a swirling blizzard engulfing the area around her--a deep forest overtaking the suburban neighborhood she found herself in. Each house was near identical, lining the street that diverted from the concrete roundabout she had woken up in. Along the ring of the roundabout was cypress trees, the bed of grass she was in the only sign of healthy grass for miles. Slowly sitting up, her eyes hum slightly as she desperately scans the area for any information that could be found. Nothing came back. Less than nothing, the radars and information ticks in the top left of her vision was giving random and stray numbers--her signal completely jammed. Quaking, she presses her hands to her knees and stands, looking around, she silently thanks herself for giving her body resistance to the cold. Though, she doesn't thank herself for whatever this is. Blaming herself--assuming a modification went awry--she only manages to keep her mental under control by blaming herself. Breathing in and out, she reevaluates her situation. It would be best to attempt to live--atleast until she could find a way to leave. It'll be fine. The only way she maintains her sanity is assuring herself of her complete inability to change her situation.
She shakes the snow off her shoes, before she slowly starts walking down the snow covered street, looking around and occasionally entering a house in order to look for food. Not like she needed it--the only real reason she ate was because she needed something to maintain her sanity. Stuffing the canned corn or pickled pork into her stomach cavity, she absently searched for shelter. Until, after 2 or so hours, she found one of the homes notably less destroyed. It had a roof and four walls--enough for shelter.
Upon setting the food down in the house and shutting the door, the absolute absurdity of her situation sets in. How had she even gotten here? Where was here? Why was there completely fresh canned food available? The cans were completely clean, no mold or rotting or snow.
She absently sat, pondering until (what appeared to be) midnight the night of her arrival, when she realized getting acquainted with her surroundings was likely the best choice. Walking out, she sees the odd manufactured streets lined with houses, and a creepy forest right behind. The only reason she could see at all was her night vision--a result of her feline nature. Walking into the forest, she sees creatures beyond her comprehension. Upon scanning them, their genetic makeup was akin to a person, but also that of dozens of wild animals. Like any predator animal fathomable was combined together. Though ranging in size, they were all the same. Odd limb placement or weird body part counts, there was no similarity besides their differences. Glossy predator eyes, fur in odd places or exposed muscle. They were all hostile to each other--and her. The first one she saw, a dingy grey thing that looked like a tiger mixed with an adult male, was crouched down in the snow eating the fetus of what appeared to be some kind of pig. Upon hearing her make the slightest motion, its head twitched to face her--flinging the fetus to her feet, before it attempted to charge.
Her face going pale and her robotic blood rushing to her head, she ran as fast as she could away--slight embers being left at her feet. Upon exiting the forest and looking back, it refused to leave the bounds of it. She stopped and stared back, as it let out a guttural snarl and retreated. Being pushed off an emotional cliff, the fear swirling from this encounter manages to really push just how helpless she was here. She laid in the mud on the rim for a time, staring blankly into her lap as she contemplated many things. Wanting to cry, but the nourishment not present.
After what felt like hours, though, she stands--pressing on. This wouldn't be what her mother would want. Jael wouldn't want her to sit and cry. Pushing her emotions as far down as possible, she recollects herself.
Not going back there, she thought. Walking the opposite direction within The Blizzard, she found an area completely engulfed in snow: the white powder so pungent it was almost blinding to view.
The only resource of use she could see was a murky brown river--near the trees within proximity to the snow-nado.
So, nothing of use.
Upon returning to the building, she exposes its rooms further, the upstairs having two bedrooms. At least she had somewhere to sleep. Laying under the torn but clean bedsheets, she let her mind flick off.
Upon opening her eyes, she only sat on the mattress and stared, before realizing she would need to at least attempt to make this feel like a home. She stared at her palms, her hands that would remain clean for not much longer. Leaving the building and gathering as much felt or wood as she could (usually blankets or discarded clothes), the first thing she did was repair her blankets, before she sat and built small pieces of furniture--bedside tables, cabinets, etcetera. Thankfully she could transform her fingers and hands into most tools she would require.
To the left of the door, she had made a form of couch, alongside a bedside table that she would stuff her notebook under.
This would go on for months, scavenging for food, building or knitting to pass time, and maybe sketching in her notebook at the latest of night. Assuming this would have been what her life would continue to consist of, she forced herself to get acquainted, before early one morning, a weird buzzing sound rang through her head, jolting her awake.
Upon groggily lurching to the source, it was an odd cardboard box sat in the center of the round-a-bout of which she had awoken in.
Upon opening it, an odd folded thing sprung out.

Part 3.

A person unfolds from it, standing straight. The woman was short, with blue hair and eyes--light skin and a petite frame. Her clothes were mostly monochromatic, aside from her peach shoulder cut sweater. On her forehead was a bright yellow sticky note with writing on it. She jumps back--startled by whatever had just occurred. Tail poofy and big, the short woman in front of her speaks in a soft, gentle voice.
"Uh, hello?" she says, Naomi not responding. Instead, she reaches out, with her thumb and forefinger, and gently takes the sticky note off of her forehead.
"Niko..." she reads. What an odd name...
"I'm Naomi." She says, introducing herself following Niko's forced introduction.
She was completely frozen, Niko staring like a deer in headlights. Completely defenseless. She appeared to be looking Naomi up and down, so she took the advantage to once-more scan something. The only real information that was produced was things Naomi had already found, though her aggression level was, weirdly, in the negatives.
After what felt like a millennia, Niko speaks, her eyes softening.
"Well, it's nice to meet you... Naomi." Niko says, trailing off as she glances around--eyeing everything around them.
"Where...is this?" she asks.
She's overdue for an introduction, Naomi realizes.
"I don't really know." She explains, not of much use--while she rubs the back of her neck. C'mon, Naomi, say something of use. Her only real incentive to be kind to this girl was to avoid being lonely, still. Though, this woman was... weirdly comforting, kind of like a parent. Looking down at Niko, she begins to scavenges for information.
Naomi sighs slightly before continuing, Niko's gaze yanking to look at her. "Pretty easy living, though. Aside from the climate, food is weirdly abundant--plus there's no jobs." She laughs at her own joke. It wasn't even that funny. Though, it reminded her of her father and mother--maybe it was a tendency she picked up from them.
Now was the time if any. Asking Niko if she would like to go back with her, to Naomi's shelter. Niko accepts, and she gently grabs her hand, guiding her through the cold, into a house less destroyed than the rest. Opening the door for Niko, they both walk inside.
As Niko peers around the environment, Naomi ponders as to where her new acquaintance would reside. There was that free bedroom, she thinks.
Hopefully it's clean.
Rushing through guiding her, she grabs her wrist and drags her up the stairs.
"That's my room," Naomi mutters in passing as she drags her along the rail-side of the second floor.
"And this, is yours." Naomi says, motioning to the second bedroom.
"My what?" Niko questions. Is this chick stupid?
"Your bedroom, dunce."
"Oh!" Niko says, her brain finally connecting the dots.
She opens the door for Niko, giddy to the fact that a bed was luckily available.
"So, uhm... get comfortable." she says, awkward--hoping it was enough.
Niko, in response, runs over and hurls herself onto the bed. Thank God.
After situating Niko into her bed, Naomi explains the concept of them needing to go outside and scavenge for food. She had only been doing it out of instinct--an act done to maintain some humanity--but now that there was a person who needed sustenance, it was a requirement. To Naomi's relief, though, Niko was oddly willing to go and search for food for herself.
On the day following, she reminded Niko of her duty, to which she eagerly rushed out. Upon returning with only two stray cans--shivering, Naomi realized that the cold would probably end up killing her. Though, she really needed the help.
For the following two weeks, after Niko would leave, Naomi would scavenge for stray fabric--eventually knitting Niko a coat that she hoped would keep her warm. While Niko was home, they would sit and talk about almost anything they could, Naomi happy to have a friend. To Naomi's turmoil, though, the times where she would black out and open her eyes resurfaced--Niko refusing to explain what happened how her parents had. Odd.
During this time, as well, Niko began to grow as a form of caretaker for her. Of course, she could handle herself and they were near the same age, but she eerily reminded her of her mother, so she allowed Niko to tell her off and 'keep her under control'. Naomi aided in Niko's survival, and Niko felt like she was helping--it was a win win.
When this period ended, and the sweater was done, she could finally gift it to Niko.
When she walked in the door, Naomi gave her the hand-knit sweater she hoped would ensure her survival.
Following this, near every time Niko scavenged she would wear it-- Which was only twice a week because of them finally sharing this responsibility. Naomi hoped this would keep her alive.
For months, this is all they did. Sometimes, they would go out together to continue a conversation or on especially cold or windy days--nights where Naomi felt she had to protect her friend.
On one of these days, though, Naomi would hear an odd frequency, of which was similar to the one she had heard before finding Niko.
Upon guiding Niko to the roundabout, they found an odd woman of little notability laying in the snow.
Approaching first--an act of sole purpose to protect Niko--she squats over the girl and prods her, an act done to inspect the girl's aggressive tendency. Scanning the girl, she finds her name to be Sora: and her aggression was at a mid-point. Best to keep Niko away, then.
Her eyes were closed, like she was resting. Most of this time was spend with Naomi poking and proding her, curious as her genes enforced. Meanwhile, Niko stood behind like a dunce. She laid there for several minutes, before her eyes open and she moves her arm to hold herself up, Naomi jumping back--tail poofing up, Niko startled aswell--neither speaking still.
Niko elbows her--of course she wants to take care of her. Rolling her eyes as Niko steps forward, she stands back as they go back and fourth.
Further inspecting Sora.
Inspecting her nails--attempting to avoid the situation--she really didn't care for this danger of a person.
Niko looks back at her after speaking for a consistent while--Naomi not paying enough attention to know why.After a dozen or so minutes, Niko begins to walk, Naomi walking as closely as she could--an act done to (hopefully) protect her friend. She wouldn't let danger fall to a loved one again. Guiding Sora back to their home, they enter as Niko attempts to introduce her to the place.
This is pitiful.
"Listen, dude," Naomi begins.
"All you need to do is look for food N' shit, bring stuff back--it's usually in those houses. Niko let's go." Her final remark is stated as she grabs her by the wrist and brings her upstairs. Upon sitting in silence for several minutes, Naomi continues the conversation they had been having prior. Not wanting to dwindle on Sora.
Their days went back to normal, until Naomi closed her eyes, and opened them to Niko holding Sora back. Niko began spouting nonsense and begging Sora to forgive her.
This was the only notable thing, though. Niko and Naomi would hang out, while Naomi pushed Sora away--it was best to keep her away than take a chance. Someone would scavenge, come back, they'd eat (Niko usually being the one to cook things, usually over a fire) and then Naomi would drag Niko away--leaving Sora alone.
During this time is when Niko pressed on her notebook. Commenting on the robot drawings, Naomi would explain that they were originally ideas of how she would upgrade herself--then offhand explaining that she was a robot. Niko was... oddly surprised. Wasn't this obvious?
After this, though, their nightly conversations would return to normal.
Days turning to weeks, the first time all three went out to scavenge, Naomi would black out upon returning to the door. Upon opening her eyes, Sora was hurling herself at Naomi's face--Niko's convincing doing close to nothing. Ripping from Niko's grasp, Sora began interrogating Naomi, pinning her to the ground and holding her down. If Naomi attempted to fight back, she would very likely upset Niko in the process--which she couldn't risk. Especially because of how weak this girl was. She laid still, burning time until Sora grew exhausted.
Sora getting angrier by the minute, Sora raises a fist before Naomi's eyes are engulfed in a bright light.

Part 4.

Upon opening her eyes, she finds herself in a voided space, bright white with nothing but the vague outline of two people before her. Both female, one was red and the other was purple. Naomi could move and speak, but neither reacted to her advances. All she could hear was the droning sound of keys on a keyboard, before the purple one started moving slightly. She couldn't get close enough to make out much detail, but she could think. A little. The bright light managed to keep her brain in a condition that ensured she could hardly think. Like it was scrambling her wiring. She sat there for a dozen or so minutes, nothing real happening.
The light engulfs everything once more, before she opens her eyes to see an odd girl with brown hair and purple eyes laying beside her.
Without thinking, she grabs the girl and pins her to the floor as she slowly opens her eyes--her reason for doing so unknown to her.
She starts asking questions that the girl would probably have no answer to. Things akin to 'why am I so angry?'--until she realizes this person could be the reason why she would randomly move--which Naomi now realized was her losing consciousness. Even though her questions shift to reflect this inquiry, the girl's answers stay the same: variations of 'I don't know'. Physically beating her in an attempt to make her speak, she doesn't.
"I don't even know what's happening." she mumbles, her breathing shaky.
I won't get anything, Naomi realizes, as she stands. Raven gets up, aswell.
"What's your name, kid?" Naomi asks, looking down at the childish girl.
"Raven!" She says, enthusiastically--a small smile appearing on her face.
Kinda like mom, she thinks. Upon trying to scan her, Naomi got no result--she looked rather weak though, so it was probably best to assume she couldn't do anything.
Naomi steps aside to let Niko do formalities, before realizing she should likely keep Niko away, anyway--just to be safe.
Dragging Niko into her room, she left Sora to deal with the odd one. She seemed good at that.
The following day was Niko's scavenging day, and upon returning Niko seems... upset.
"What's wrong?" Naomi asks.
Upon her initial resistance, Niko breaks.
"Sora's already being aggressive with Raven. She said she had like, got all rude and stuff--kinda like you used to. Locked her in the pantry. That's crazy right? Anyway, I tried to let 'er out but Sora threatened her and I'm too weak to stop her so I had to leave her stuck there. I know we just met her and you think she's a problem but I can't help but feel bad."
Finally, Sora did something right. This was probably the best way to handle her. she won't starve in there, at least Naomi assumed from her facial slit likely indicating her robotic biology. Upon explaining her view to Niko, Niko very obviously was upset by it--but she didn't speak on it. Instead, she opted to ignore it, and talk about something else.
Whatever.
Months pass further, nothing changing (thankfully) between Niko and Naomi. Niko was obviously still upset about Raven, and even though Naomi agreed with her treatment she couldn't help but feel bad for her friend. She always had that desire to protect people. She just couldn't be given the chance to hurt Niko.
A few months later, Niko, upon it being once more Raven's turn to scavenge begs Naomi and Sora to go with her, as a group. To 'get acquainted'. Raven seemed uncaring about it. Sora upright refused, but Naomi accompanies Niko--to protect her.
So, Raven, Niko, and Naomi leave--with Sora begrudgingly following after them and walking--against her word. She blamed her venture on 'Niko having a look'.
They stay out for a small while, until Sora departs from the 3, promising to return soon. Leaving Niko and Naomi alone with Raven.
Naomi had chills for a reason she couldn't put a finger on.
Nothing really had happened, everything was quiet and odd--even Niko wasn't attempting to socialize. At least not much.
A dozen or so minutes after Sora leaves, though, Ravens eyes morph into a blood red, her outfit changing to an suit of similar pigmentation.

Everything going dark around them, as Niko braces herself--Naomi (and assumingly Niko) unable to move.
Raven walked towards her, smiling in an uncomfortable way--her breathe hitting Naomi's face. She would be quaking, but she was incapable of movement. Raven presses her hand slowly into her chest, her blood slowly pooling out until her skin pops--pain like Naomi had never experienced engulfing Naomi. Hoping her friend would be safe (though unable to see her and understanding that wouldn't be true) thoughts swarmed her head as Raven slowly wriggled her fingers around inside Naomi's body--unable to do anything but scream, she did. The blood alone making her lose consciousness--somehow, she assumed it was draining iron from her wireframe. Her thoughts and the pain wrapped around her mind like a noose--she was meant to protect Niko, not let this fuckin' beast kill her. She didn't care if she died, but the fact that, in the end, she still couldn't protect another person she cared for tore her apart inside. Like how her chest was being torn open--something she couldn't forget. Raven puts her other hand in, ripping her torso in two as she takes another hand out and gently rests it on Naomi's face. Barely alive anymore, her consciousness drips from her body like a leaky faucet. In one big burst, Naomi's head ignites, Naomi screaming in agony as she feels her skin melt off--her final thoughts being her worrying deeply about Niko, tearing herself apart for not protecting her.

Gallery.

Biography.

The Divenši family had always been poor. Vuul's parents were largely uneducated, but whenever Vuul demonstrated immense ability in the scientific sense, they rushed to pool funds for her to potentially go to college. Working hard to get into a largely prestigious college since she got into high school, she was admitted as one of the final applicants. Her college life going just as one would expect, until the midpoint when, because of her prowess within the scientific fields--and (supposedly) being one of the best within their state--she was offered an internship at a company that promised to pay for the rest of her college fees, plus some. What would it hurt, she thought? She could use the money. Upon entering the building, though...

Divenši 1

Vuul Divenši
Internship Record
2020-02-12

Entry One.

I just got back from that interview that I had. It was like, super weird. In an odd way I can't really pinpoint. Well, I can. I was forced into signing an NDA (well I say forced but it was kind of an obligation to get hired, so). Though, that means I can't talk about what happened-to anyone. Alongside publishing this (not like i would want to). So... if someone's reading this I'm likely dead, or something. Though, that does not stop me at all from documenting it for myself. I've done that with virtually everything so I have no reason to stop. Whenever I entered what I believed would be the job-site. It wasn't. Kinda? It was the jobsite, but not where i would be working. I walked into (what appeared to be) like, a garage painted bright white. There was only a chair and a table, with three men: two with firearms and one in a suit. The one with the suit was standing over the table, and he extended his arm to motion me to sit. Against what my gut instinct screamed, I did. For a reason unknown to me they decided a college student would be eligible for government work (which explains the NDA I spoke on). They explained that they would pay for the rest of my college fees, plus any money I would need otherwise--so why wouldn't I accept? I just needed to keep it on the downlow, and i get good money. They explained that they needed someone who could help with an odd (and weirdly specific) part of building... what I could best describe as an android. Like, a sci-fi movie android. All I could piece together was that they needed someone who could recreate the cooling procedures instructed--which required a combination of exact precision that they couldn't get right. Though, they did inform me I was like, a last ditch pick.

I don't care though. I need the money, and even after I finish it they said they would keep me on standby if they need anything further. I'll be called again Friday--to actually work this time.

Divenši 2

Vuul Divenši
Internship Record
2020-02-14

Entry Two.

I walked in the door today and they (a man who I would be shadowing for the most part, named Ryder) walked over and gifted me a lab coat akin to the one he wore. I think it was one of his, because it's two sizes too big. Though, even right now I'm wearing it and I got off four hours ago so I may just be complaining to complain. Anyway, he was weirdly silent, not speaking or even looking at me. Ryder talked me into not getting scanned (I really don't know why they trusted me so much), so it was a straight shot to the actual jobsite. Behind a reinforced metal door and dozens of walls was a large rectangular room with dozens of people at desks and even more hunched over workbenches, though the general population of this room was standing around something in the center. As a result of Ryder's (Administrative?) priority, he was able to get me to the front of the circle--allow me to see what was so interesting. Upon being allowed to see, it was something akin to things only in movies. It was almost exactly like the man from Wednesday described, the outline of a person done completely in metal wireframe. Some segments were rusty, but for the most part it was completely clean. Its eyes were eerily human, and its teeth even more so. Its head was completely hollow aside from machine-work that looked like things i had never seen. On the front of its face were two big metal panels, that looked like they should/would fold outward. He hadn't said a word the entire time, so i assume this was just context for what followed. Before I could cement further information in my memory, he moved me and himself aside, over to a table with a near identical people could--once more shoving his way to the front. On the sleek white table was a blueprint for what they were building, he said that they had gotten (mostly) everything finished, though they needed help with its artificial skin and its (like they said) cooling and power. The blueprints said something about solar power and growing the skin, but no one could get something consistent in any regard. Its cooling was weirdly small and required a combination of elements that they couldn't get correct--but that was the one thing they had gotten (mostly) done. I don't know why they expect a college student to know how to do any of this, but I have no reason to not try. Walking away from the weirdly burned blueprints he informed me further of the fact that that blueprint was given to them from an anonymous source, whom showed up shortly following the collapse of that one city block near I-44. Supposedly, it was supernatural. Of course, I really do not believe that, but who knows. This technology is far beyond anything I've seen, so maybe. After the hours of introduction, he stayed by me and ensured i was given able access to things--i was able to get a start on their cooling module (which seemed very scrappy, but somehow it worked). It like, let off a small blue burst to which Ryder really shortly following dismissed me. So, I assume they got something they wanted. I was allowed to keep the lab coat though! Back on subject, I very much doubt that's the last I'll need to do for that. They offered for me to go in Monday for a bit more under the table cash, but that would clash with my college so I may skip. I don't know, I'll see how I feel then--I'm kinda excited to work further though, not something I ever thought I'd think.

Divenši 3

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Internship Record
2020-02-17

Entry Three.

Can't write much today and I'm also writing this from my phone inbetween my fourth period, outside my college. I was able to jam in a bit of work, Ryder informed me of the fact that it was called project U.M.A. (Uma's the name of the android.) It's being made to take down that thing that destroyed that block--he told me a lot more specifics today compared to prior but a lot of it sounded fake so I forgot a lot. Anyway, on the subject of the actual job I've found what would work best for its cooling is making a type of jell that flows through its "veins" rather than the glob of jell that was instructed. Ryder was against it but their engineers agreed it was likely better so they told me they would modify the build and call me in once that's done. On an unrelated note, I bought a full meal for myself and ordered good groceries for Ma and Pa--first meal i've eaten myself in weeks. Way better than Ramen.

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2020-02-21

Entry Four.

After Ryder's call last night I was oddly excited to go, even though it was just work. Maybe it's because I have somewhere that needs me. Though, enough emotional nonsense. As a result of today being the end of my school days this week, I didn't have to rush around today--called mom aswell. She ended up asking how that internship was treating me. Of course I couldn't say anything--I forgot how much it hurts to lie. Anyway, getting into the building led to Ryder and another man--the head engineer, guiding me back to the table alongside explaining the work that had been done. The 'veins' were lined with a form of lubricant so that I could make either an actual jelly, or just water. Again, I don't know what form it'll take but having a form of fallback is nice. All I really did today was spend most of my work hours hunched around in a room they designated for ME, for ME to work. It feels weirdly nice to have a place to be. I wrote that already, but it's nice for emphasis. I got a bit started, but that's it. Nothing I'd like to confidently present. Kind of embarrassing to comment on, the first few WIPs burned.

I did some research while on site and most coolants are made with some kind of ethylene glycol, so what I'll likely attempt is to amplify it's properties alongside attempting to remove its more syrup like-quality to ensure it flows smoothly through the veins. I know it's 'lubed' or whatever but I would prefer to be completely competent in my make. Especially for something for a government project. I'll likely go in consistently until I get this done.

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2020-03-08

Entry Thirteen and Five Tenths.

Really do not feel like writing a lot today. After working for two plus weeks straight, and going to college has taken a number on my physical health. I haven't slept much in a good while, but the money has been a really nice plus. Anyway, I got the coolant done at around eight PM, and for some reason Ryder's placeholder name of 'vuulant' stuck. It's named after me, officially. I was paid handsomely today, and told I'd get two or three days off before I go back in to do the charging. All I need to do is watch Direle (the head behind their odd solar panels) and help with occasional things. It, hopefully, will be easier.

Anyway, I need sleep.

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2020-03-11

Entry Fourteen.

I just got back from my shift. Unsurprisingly, it was as lackluster as I assumed it would be. Since (what is practically) a solar panel was all they really needed, my minimal skill set was of like, no use. I messed with the way it would absorb sunlight and eventually helped implementing my coolant into it, but all they really did was make solar panels an inch in width and length all over the 'scalp' of the wireframe. Each was plastered with a tiny bit of coolant, but definitely not enough to warrant me going in today. It sorta just felt like I was there so they could make use of having me on their employee list. All I did was sit in the corner and fiddle with my fingers are people far more skilled than me did all the heavy lifting, occasionally answering a question. Direle said they'd call me back for further panel inspection once they get a test done, so maybe I'll do more then but I doubt it.

On a more exciting(?) note, Ryder informed me that the artificial skin is also on my to-do list. I don't know how I'll do that but I'll manage--money is money. He said the higher ups were scheduling what's practically a date with the volunteer for our skin sample Friday, and they want me and a couple of their genetic engineers there. I assume this has some reason, at least I hope so. The way he described it sounded like a date, in which--again, why am I there? My next entry will likely be on how the meeting with the volunteer goes. I'm interested to see who they are or, why I need to be there.

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2020-03-13

Entry Fifteen.

Writing on my phone again, I'll try to correct any typos I see but I'm writing this during this date because I'm not doing much. Again, It feels like I'm here because I'm on payroll. Anyway, this girl's nice. She's the daughter of our director, her name's Evelyn. Paying for me and my two collogues meals. Really fancy restaurant--on the nice side of town. She explained that she didn't wanna give a skin sample without knowing who would use it, something about her pure DNA. I don't understand it, but It's not my job to. I really don't know how a scab of flesh and some blood is gonna grow a full layer of skin.

Edit: I just got out, sitting in my car outside of campus reflecting. That really did feel like I was only present because of me being on payroll. Though, I did feel bad for being on my phone to write that last paragraph. I made sure to apologize profusely--even if i felt stupid for doing so. After everything was said and done Evelyn shook our hands, and the two men who came with brought the vial she unveiled to us back to the site. Really not looking forward to this lecture. Hoping this skin building thing works, somehow. Even though it's scientific fallacy.

Edit: Back in my car, again--post lecture. I really do not understand what Ryder or Evelyn's father expects anyone to do with a skin sample. I mean, those blue prints have worked up to this point--and all they really need is the skin (I still don't know why it needs to be humanoid, I don't think I'll ever get an explanation) but this? You call upon a girl who's not even finished with college, to do something that (to my knowledge) has never been done before? If cell regeneration or creation at all could be done most diseases wouldn't exist. How am I meant to do this? Ryder texted me a couple minutes ago asking if I could go in tomorrow to fiddle with this skin thing. I agreed.

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2020-03-15

Entry Seventeen.

After yesterday's utter fail of an attempt with the skin I was kinda tempted to argue with Ryder that there was no reason to do it. I mean, it looked utterly fruitless. But, I went in today and something I can't even wrap my head around happened. the vial with that I had left last night had a small sapling-like growth of clean skin, akin to Evelyn. I asked around, everyone said no one touched it. It had just, magically grown overnight. A scientific wonder. I wanted to experiment on it, pick it apart--see if I could find out what happened. Though, that was denied by Ryder. Most of my shift was spent watching it pulse and grow inside of the vial, and by the end of my eight hours it had needed to be changed to a different flask. Ryder said that it would likely need to be monitored to ensure it grows stably, and according to the blueprint once we have around a pint it should be free to apply it to their current endo skeleton.

I very eagerly accepted the invitation, and I'll be going in after my last lecture tomorrow to check it again. On another note, I was given more spending money, though I put most of it in savings. The quarter or so I hadn't was given to Ma and Pa. They've been kinda pressy, but I've been able to deter them by staying firm on the fact that it isn't that exciting. It is, this is really exciting. I didn't think something like this was possible, let alone I'd discover it.

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2020-03-16

Entry Eighteen.

Its growth slowed greatly. I had assumed it would be to what we needed, but it's just barely two tenths of the contents we need. It's around midnight right now as of writing this, Ryder is allowing me to stay overnight--even though he knows I have college tomorrow. This place being empty is like, super weird. I'm not alone, but the only other person here is practically asleep, slumping over the blueprints in the corner like a madman, cross referencing the machine to it. I've sorta just been scrolling social media and dosing my body with as much caffeine as I can squeeze from the company coffee machine. Every so often the little flesh glob pulses a bit, but otherwise nothing.

Edit: I really gently poked it and it kinda... looked at me. It sprouted a little antenna and floated over to the glass. Really trippy stuff.

Edit: It's 3 am and I have class in a couple hours, so I'll likely only go home to change. I've decided I'll probably only go in for a couple hours everyday to check on it. It doesn't seem to require as much attention as previously thought.

Edit: Typing is really hard right now, especially with my car's AC broken. I'm had gotten up to leave and Ryder walks in, says I look 'atrocious'. On a more business related note, I informed him of the fact it had slowed in growth. He said that if anything changed he would call me, but I was free to take as long as I need off. Like I would give up this opportunity. I'll probably go back in tomorrow--or today, or whatever the word is. Scientific wonders are at my finger tips, I refuse to throw in the towel because I'm tired.

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2020-03-21

Entry Twenty Four.

After having finally grown the contents we need as of yesterday, Ryder offered for me to apply it. Though hesitantly, I accepted. Pouring it onto the plastic glove that was wrapped around my hand, it wriggled slightly, as I gently applied it to the metal endo-skeleton. It gently wrapped around it, like plastic wrap. No weird dripping, nothing. By the time I left it had completely covered the upper torso--aside from the eyes and mouth--and blonde hair had began to grow from its 'scalp'. It was really, really trippy. For what was likely an hour, everyone was huddled around the humanoid body--watching, monitoring the skin. The only sound was the tapping of pens. Thinking about it now, the fact that its only been a couple months is crazy. The fact I made artificial skin is crazy. I know something happened to it to make it grow, or whatever, but it was mostly me. After it had covered the skull, Ryder pulled me aside and discussed payment. I was done with the internship, already. The past three months would be able to be put on future resumes, but I was told I wouldn't be allowed to mention specifics. Just that I had done scientific and biological aid for the government. Enough for me, I guess. I could very likely get a high paying job with that alone. I was given my paycheck upfront, though Ryder said my number would be kept incase something was needed, but I'm finished. I've repeated that like, twice. I'm weirdly emotional, but I'll change over to my diary for that. This'll be left to sit in my google drive, though.

All and all, I'm really thankful to Ryder for this opportunity. Or, whoever hired me. The things I saw there were things I didn't think possible prior.

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2020-03-30

Entry Twenty Five.

I just got off the phone with Ryder, It's around five. He was weirdly awkward--I guess nonbusiness conversation is awkward for him. Though, I can't judge because I'm near the same way. Anyway, onto the reason I had to scavenge for this to once more write. He informed me they were powering the android on, followed with the inquiry of if I would wanna be present. They're powering it on tomorrow. I'm appreciative of the ask, but it was rather abrupt. Anyway, I accepted. I'll be on site once more in between my third and fourth lecture. I don't think I've been this excited for something in months. Maybe it's because it feels like it's my creation, too.

Divenši 31

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2020-03-31

Entry Twenty Six.

Whenever I walked in the door, what was a mere metal skeleton two months ago was now a full woman. Bright blond shoulder length hair, yellow eyes--a white bow on the back of her head. She was thankfully clothed (I was worried they wouldn't clothe her, though it is decency). Her wear was largely skintight black apparel--I guess it makes sense with a majority of the engineers being men. Thankfully, she didn't look exactly like Evelyn, I had been curious to how the skin would turn out on her. She looked uncannily human, resting with her eyes closed like she was sleeping. We had made a person. In a couple months. It was uncanny. Ryder greeted me with smiles--greatly contrasting his usual stern mug. His handshake was just as rough as I had remembered, and he was the only person not gathered around the bench. He informed me it does in fact know of its mechanical, I do hope this doesn't mentally conflict the robot. Well I don't know if it has any emotions or feeling. I don't know. It's not my job to evaluate the ethics of this. I got my payment, plus overtime for coming in. Which was weird because I did like, no work. I'm off subject, I'm not writing to my best, I'm excited, I was tryna keep this brief. Anyway, Ryder pressed something on his panel that he stood before, behind everyone, and its eyes fluttered open, glaring around as it sat up. It made direct eye contact with me, before it started speaking--its voice was uncanny. Not because it didn't sound human, but because it was so human. I tried to stay as long as I could, but alongside having class afterwards I also felt light headed just thinking about it. Ryder offered to get me to the front of the line, to get a word in. I think I would have barfed. I can tell myself that It's not my job to worry about ethics, but it was so life-like. I might call my therapist tomorrow.

Biography.

U.M.A. was made by the United States government in an attempt to capture a being of pure power for military use. Even though this is, simply stupid--it was done anyway. Setting her fate the moment she woke, her eyes opened to see a room of which was lined with desks and tired men, the walls white with monochromatic tiled floor. She sat up, and the mere movement led to gasps from everyone in the room, her brow furrowing as she looked around. Without even speaking, people were already writing on clipboards. Why was everyone in this room so surprised, by her existing no less?
"What, what is it?" She asks, anger bubbling.
No one responds, though their writing doesn't cease. This continues for what feels like hours--the occasional person walking in or leaving. She kept yelling the same, and only once the writing had (mostly) ceased when a man with dark grey hair and a slight fuzz on his chin stepped forward, his dried lips moving as his two blue orbs made eye-contact with her.
He explained that she was an android--nice way to start a conversation--and that she was created to kill... something. The man--named Ryder--continued to explain what it was, but not how she would or whatever, so she didn't care. All she really paid attention to was the fact that she would be required to stay in this lab for a quarter dozen months, alongside the fact that she had a form of sleeper agent that would activate to hard-target this thing. Against what she should probably be doing, she cared very little about her artificial biology. All she wanted was to leave and 'go home', though not knowing what home would be.
People dispersing after Ryder motioned, he would guide her off the table and into a room with no windows and only one door. Inside, was only a mattress and sink. This room, its lined and crumbling walls and barren insides, would be Uma's room for the foreseeable future.
Uma lived in this facility like a prisoner for four months. She was studied, her 'vitals' monitored heavily with Ryder commonly staying by her, monitoring almost every move. She didn't care to note on a lot of the people present--especially because the count would dwindle as time went on, until the only people present were her and a dozen workers, alongside Ryder.
Her daily would consist of waking up from her creaky bed, and almost immediately being hit with blood tests and an odd breathalyzer, before she would eat and be scanned. Not having to produce waste was nice, though such was heavily studied--which was very uncomfortable as many of their scientists were men. She would then be dismissed to walk around the facility as she desired, until she would be evaluated physically--more blood drawing, followed by poking and prodding on odd parts of her body. Right before bed, she would move her body around, before--only twice a week--she would blink and end up in another spot of the facility, usually only a couple feet in any direction. Her day would end with her going back into her locked room, and doing it again.
This went on for four months, Uma hating most of it. Feeling like a prisoner was the last thing she enjoyed. Especially because she had the consistent urge to fight against criminals.
After these four months ended, Ryder allowed her to leave and live in the public domain--though in a home paid for by the people who instructed her creation. She was given Ryder's phone number alongside a phone and a handgun, and dismissed--though being driven to her home by Ryder.
Ryder, upon entering the entrance of her home, would initiate an awkward goodbye as Uma slammed the door in his face. The inside of the cheap apartment was akin to that of her cell in the facility, barren with only a Tv/Tv stand, and a mattress with a pillow and blanket on it. Barren living, like she was below the poverty line.

Part 2.

She spent months sorta just living. Waking up, scrolling on her phone, and sleeping. Though she did have a job, it felt like it was given to her out of pity. She was registered as a captain on her area's police district. All she really did was stop petty crimes--theft, jaywalking, the occasional drug arrest. Things to keep her busy more or less. Getting bored of doing (mostly) nothing rather quick, she would spend her days in her days patrolling her city district--commonly 'undercover' and only really going into action upon seeing any form of crime.
More or less, the ultimate 'loner'. No friends, no family, just her job and doing nothing but.
Her life was ultimately ordinary, very much contrasting her first few months. Though, of noteworthy importance, was an odd occurrence of--late one night, on an especially cold day, she would blink and the same thing that had occurred while in the facility would occur.
She would open her eyes to herself laying on the ground, covered in mud and dirt--her body aching heavily. Groaning as she got on her knees, she desperately tried to recollect what had happened to lead up to this. Spending what felt like hours panting in a muddy patch of a cypress forest, nothing would surface. Her mind and body aching with no recollection to why. Standing up and unveiling her phone for its GPS, she would walk back into her city as she texted Ryder dozens of complaints. No sympathy was expressed by him. She knew something weird would happen, but nothing like this. This just sucked, she thought. She hadn't signed up for any of this. That was the last thought that crossed her mind as she collapsed into her mattress that night, still dripping from the shower she had to take to (hopefully) remove the mud from her body.
Waking up the next day was like nothing had even happened. Mostly clean, her phone completely still. Ryder hadn't responded since he made it clear this was what she had to live with. Spending the following weeks, to months stopping the occasional robbery or drug deal near a local convenience store, her life was mostly boring from that point on. Most crooks knew of her connection with law--which led to her not being the most effective, but she had a good time waster. Later at night she would walk around her area, eye-balling scraggles in alleyways or those who looked like potential suspects. But that was it. She was more or less a police officer, even though she was made for more.
Expecting this to be how she would live the rest of her days, her guard would drop--hoping that her agent wouldn't activate again. Last time it was a hassle to handle. Though, to Uma's despair (or nothing at all), it would.
Blinking once, her eyes would not open again. One second she was doing her usual late-night patrol--the next, she wasn't alive. Merely scrap used to rebuild what she had destroyed.
In the end, Project U.M.A. not only failed, but also angered what Ryder and his superiors wanted to capture. Having decided to instead kill someone close to it in hopes it would be emotionally weakened and turn itself over, Ryder used Uma as a sort of suicide bomber. Her agent had activated, and she had hurled herself into Raven, the person whom was determined to be closest to the potential weapon.
Uma was promptly destroyed by the entity and used to rebuild what she had destroyed.

Description.

Militus Anole is a man who was born and raised into a cult worshipping a "god" only known as The Scarlet King--by him and its followers in his vicinity atleast. With full honesty, this being was only of immeasurable power--nothing truly calling for worship by any man. This wasn't known by Militus or Samiel--Militus' father--though. Samiel was one of the many people who inherited the cult from their father before them; Most all ordinary men, people from many different backgrounds united under a shared goal.
Samiel firmly believed this god would come to earth and destroy any whom hadn't praised it: though when it would show, it would need a body to inhabit. For this reason, Militus was conceived. Being conceived with a volunteer virgin from the few women in following, Militus was born (mostly) naturally, the exception to this being the fact he had provided Militus' mother with handmade supplements to ensure Militus could fulfill his goal as a vessel for the god they worshipped.
Small genetic modifications to allow himself to push himself further--more muscle compacity, more stamina, and a dozen other things that also tore up some of his genetics. As. result of this scattering of his DNA, some of his features were allowed to shift to inhuman compacity: like his hair turning a blood red.
As stated prior Militus was completely sheltered. Even in his youth, Militus only truly saw his father--his mother being treated like just another follower--not even he knew who she was. Most of his time being spent trapped in the small hand carved and dug 'home' underneath the church's stage, Militus only really saw the outside light at 11.
Once his father had deemed him 'worthy', Militus was then used as workhand: gathering firewood, trimming trees, repainting the church, setting chairs and pamphlets.
Militus' only friends were an axe and his father.
This separation from reality led to Militus developing to be largely independent--alongside emotionally reactive. Though, that wasn't really the development samiel desired.
Around 15 though, was when his role began to shift. Being introduced to the potential mantle of being the cult's leader--his father promising this role once he was developed 'well enough'. For the time being though, he was allowed to lead partial meetings: small gatherings with only a percent of the cult's inhabitants
With no other notable occurances aside from being a partial preacher, Militus got comfortable. Which turned out to be a grave mistake.
His mental calm--relatively weak, was when something that would warp Militus until his death happened.
In his father's old age, he had decided suicide would hammer militus' feet deeper into the cult. To make him emotionally dependent on it, mostly. Once Militus was in his early twenties, Samiel brought his son into a room off to the side, having it locked from the outside. Once meeting his son, he blew each of his own limbs off one by one, his head being last.
Being forced to watch his father die did a number on him. Beating his way through the door, he hurled himself into his home--Samiel's home. Bedridden for many days, no meetings nor most movement. Distraught. Beating himself up for even mourning, though, most emotional stamina or ability in any regard was drained from him at this time.
After what felt like way too long wallowing, Militus (for the most part) disregarded any emotional status he had, or would have; dedicating himself wholeheartedly towards maintaining his father's legacy. He had nothing else, admittedly--and it's what his old man would have wanted.

Part 2.

Upon his father's death Militus is forced into running the cult. Finally giving it an official name--the Bloodtorn--among dozens of other mends to its structure. Mending the church's crumbling walls, making a site for the cult's members to add a calendar for scheduled meetings, officializing and streamlining the cult as a whole. Alongside this, he took up his old man's bible--mulling over it in its entirety, alongside printing snippets each meeting of the segment he would cover or reference. Alongside this, he began writing in it himself: though mostly disregarding the wishes of the men who had written in it before him. Treating it like more like a diary, he hoped his written efforts would be enough to show his dedication--alongside pushing future cult leaders to do the same for their dedication. To show dedication.
In a further attempt to push hard the desire for one's dedication, months later he enforced that every member emblazon their chests with the scarlet king's symbol. Touching each member's midriff with a scorching piece of metal upon entry on one (mostly random) meeting.
Alongside this, he altered the cloaks each member would wear themselves. Initially they were mostly revealing of said member--showing their neck and head, chest and legs. This was altered to force any member but himself to fully tie their cloak and cover their face. The only sign of their individualism being the coloration of their cloak: something that Militus implemented alongside this demand for hiding one's body. The redder the cloak got, the 'closer' one was with The Scarlet King, usually given to long running members--with Militus being the reddest.
His entire life was dedicating to the Bloodtorn, strengthening himself for the yardwork and repairs, spending days workshopping ways to improve. There's no time for friends when there's work to do. The only people who joined were people who were lost, desiring more--but there were dozens more attendees than there were before he took hold. The cult had morphed greatly and positively as a result of his dedication.
Though, there was no satisfaction. No recognition for what he seeked--no reports of its presence, nothing of its existence. Of course there was no doubt in his mind that it would come, but he grew tired of waiting after the years began to pass.

Part 3.

Around a decade into his endeavor, while trimming trees and mulling through the forest he finds a small portion of earth that felt scorched unnaturally, small wilted roses seemingly dyed a blood red growing from the ground. If anything was a sign, this was it. Turning this odd site into a form of shrine for his deity--and of course noting of such in his writing--he revisits this site daily. Making offerings that would bubble that same color of red the next night.
For month, he would treat this as sacred ground--revisiting after that day's meeting. Nothing of noteworthy importance occurs. A lonely location, but Militus' faith remains unwavered. Finally, though, in late autumn, this faith is rewarded. Upon his usual visit, he finds an odd woman, appearing late into her teens. Her figure full, with Lucious (and oddly greying) curly air. Her amber toned skin glowing slightly in the full moon's light, her stance one of defense as she stares Militus in his eyes. Only after several minutes pass--Militus silent in his mesmerized state, weirdly unable to take his eyes off of her. Not in the way a man would with a woman, but how a person would admire a celebrity. Only once she comments on his presence--demanding a reason, that Militus catches a view of the woman's eyes.
A deep, blood red. An unmistakable shade to him.
"My lord!" he professes, speaking without thinking for the first time since his youth.
More words of unnoteworthy importance follow, asking for a reason for things he truly did not want answers to, questions about why he came in such a form, before, abruptly, this god states word in a tone sharp as a knife: "I'm not here for you."
He continues speaking for a time, though having realized the second it spoke that it cared not for him.
It warps itself away while he is mid-sentence, and he sits and recounts for a time.
This and this moment alone would have broken any other, though Militus took this well. Setting the rest of his life even further to his dedication, Militus worked tirelessly for himself to be redeemed in its eyes.
This would not happen.

Gallery.

The Book of Scarlet's remnants following Phoenix's destruction.
Deep beneath the Earth's surface.

Synopsis.

Merilene is the 26 main character of a creepypasta featuring her as the vessel for its story. Throughout she works on her college final--revolving around researching the anatomy of an animal of her choice--but finds something she was never meant to see. Discovering something beyond her comprehension, she slowly spirals down a rabbit-hole in her log-book styled entries. Losing it at any sight of the color red Merilene distances from most anything, fearing anything: including herself.

Gallery.

Biography.

Joelle in her youth was like most small children: crayons up noses, glue on fingers, fingers where they shouldn't be. Her father was the adult definition of a golden child, and her mother was an odd loner. Spending a lot of her time in her room, playing with dolls and scattered toys, her childhood was ordinary. Aside from occasional whispers of her aunt being 'looney', though she assumed it was a cartoon.
When she was around five, though, her mother died in a freak accident--in some odd way her father refused to elaborate on. As a result of her young age, she didn't truly understand where she went or anything, just the in and outs of funerals, the random people she knew not of. Her father though, had odd spurts of luck following. Winning lotteries like it's picking up pennies, running into famous people like it was an old friend. She would only learn in middle school just how odd her father was. Around this point, though, was when her signature traits would set. Small things, like being extra clumsy or bubbling in a wrong answer just too many times to drop a grade. Running into one too many doors, leaving her bag in one too many classes.
Livable, though, she thought. Continuing with her odd relationship with luck until just before high school, where her father experiences one of these things. The definition of Milo Murphy's law occurs, a window shattering and piercing her left wrist in a way that pops a vein. Immediate hospital check up immediate medical attention, and her father keeping her close following into highschool.
Into her early freshman years her luck dwindled into cartoonish lows. Things shattering or breaking just to mess with her, her stuff breaking at the worst times, near anything. Still with her helicopter father. Only managing to wiggle away early to go to school or the bathroom, by junior she had convinced him she was 'okay', living. The Injuries aside, she learned most medical procedures throughout this.
In the summer of her Junior year, though, while our latest night--sneaking out how she had many times to get away from her father--she would stumble infront a loose manhole. spinning around under her weight, she would topple what felt like an impossible height, for 40 painstaking seconds she fell, life flashing before her eyes, skin tearing from the air drag. Upon hitting the harsh concrete she would feel herself splatter.
Just to open her eyes to the right of the manhole cover, in the center of the street with a scar on both of her ankles.

Part 2.

upon contacting her father, her family's curse is explained. Her crazy aunt, her and her mother's luck, and what really happened to her mom. She had died tragically--like Joelle had, but she didn't respawn. Joelle, crushed and afraid, gives up on school (against her father's wishes) in an attempt to 'live life to the fullest'. Couch surfing while working and using her college savings to buy a low-class apartment. From these days of couch surfing, though, Joelle was quickly given the nickname Hijinx for her terrible luck.
After staying indoors for a good portion of her life, she realized, though, that when in the confines of a building she was almost completely safe--and if she was inside of her apartment her luck would not flicker on. As a result of this, she found her solace online, unable to leave home safely. By her 19th birthday she was almost completely covered in medical bandages: an attempt to hide her growing scars. Her only friends were online following the couch surfing. Barely leaving home out of fear, she only really left for groceries or food--rotting onto her bed more or less.
Though, she would accidentally end up befriending the occasional person. Only a handful stuck through her bad luck though, and those people managed to drag her out of her apartment. She felt safe with another person, hoped she wouldn't hurt them with her curse like she thought she would.
Living decently, only going through minimal therapy as a result of dying so frequently, Hijinx lives out a surprisingly normal life. Her 'immortality' only helping her persist through her curse. She is, though, tattered and covered in scars and bruises everywhere but her face by her late 20s.

Biography.

Upon opening its eyes--Jasper sees a horrifying thing before her. A lanky thing, with no legs that oddly floats in place. Its flesh covered hands were connected with only slivers of nerves. Its head voided in shadow, its torso a thin humanoid chest with its skin dragged like a cloth over it. She would come to learn quickly that this thing had created her, had made her to serve out its ambitions. Standing, locked in place before it, it stared through her: sitting atop its throne dozens of feet in height made of the bones and skulls of things she couldn't decipher. Before she could have any further thoughts though, her mind began to ring as her body folded into itself, her eyes forcefully shutting before they would open to see a white plane--blank aside from a chair and a bed, and, without reason, a dull knife on the foot of the bed.
Having very little knowledge of anything at all, Jasper messes with her body in most everyway. Pinching her flesh, attempting to tear it--akin to how a smile child would. Through this, she found, the odd flaky things on her face would not come off. The odd sensation of them laying on her face tingled, and upon trying to reach her fingernail under it a burning sensation protruded through her body.
In only mere hours the realization sets that she was a mere puppet, though for what she had no knowledge. Only a nagging feeling at first, but she could tell this was truth. All she knew, in her heart--her hollow, unfilled heart--with her empty mind and shaky hands, was this.
She sits there, playing with this dull knife, sleeping and attempting to break whatever she could (to no avail), inside of this little room made just for her. No knowledge as to why or who she was. Only a purpose.
On the 'wall' (if it could even be called that), after what was likely months, a wooden sign lay strewn: a name carved into it. One she assumed to be her own: 'Jasper'.
She stay in this state for many days until, eventually, she is taken out akin to how she was brought in. Standing in front of the same eerie figure, its desires ring in her head.
'Kill the man and woman, spare the feline.'
Though these are words she had never heard before--she hadn't heard words before period--they meant something she couldn't place her finger on. The instate desire to act out this will also lay deep in her core. So, without further explanation or time for thought, she is folded inside out, opening her eyes Infront of the doors of a suburban home.

Part 2.

She knew of the absurdity of this task, the cruelty, but she found herself more than willing. It would hurt these people, but if it's what her creator wanted was it truly that bad? Her body was fuzzy and an odd shade of red--like a blurry picture--she feels her body split into two identical copies, though her vision is maintained in both in a way uncompressible to her feeble mind. Grabbing the orange cat and tossing her into a room that she managed to lock without twisting the knob, she uses her second body to tear near the entire home apart--aside from the room the cat was in. Mindlessly, she shredded this couple to bloody pulp, tore walls down and brought carnage. Eventually--without warning--after hours, she is brought back to her creator. Sitting on the armrest of the chair it sat in, its arm slowly, painfully, glided over to her head--sitting itself on top of her scruffy hair and scratching her hair.
'Now we watch.', its voice echoes in her mind. She knew not of what, but it was better than her room. in front of the chair, a massive display springs up, displaying the orange haired girl she had imprisoned. She watches--with her creator--as it desperately attempts to break down the door. After it had, she watches as it finds the carnage, to which her creator congratulates her efforts. Everything following on the screen is a blur, happening faster than it likely truly was. The girl found her footing inside of another room, making things she couldn't quite understand. During this time, she watched as her creator morphed a sphere in front of her, a 'world' he called it, it gave off a cold aura she didn't quite enjoy. She watched as he gave it form, mountains and icy neighborhoods, desolate. She, alongside this, also caught glimpses of a ghostly thing--akin to the girl she had killed--sitting in a box at the foot of the throne, still, unmoving. She didn't understand why it didn't move. Or why it was there, for that matter. Though she trusted her creator through it all, watching as his hand guided these creations, before she was once more tasked.
'warp the girl with the metal tools as i have you, bring her onto the cold planet. Then, take this spirit--inside of this body I will create--and put it there aswell.'
Akin to the previous, she knew not of what this meant. Though she also did.
She did as she was told, happily, making the orange one phase through the ground, before gently dropping her unconscious body into an odd part of the frozen world--the one that seemed bigger up close. She knew not of how she had done any of the things she was, but she enjoyed pleasing her creator. She hoped the transition of this girl would be pleasing to it--she felt it was something he would have done. Leaving the girl's limp self there, she steps off the planet--growing seamlessly while doing so--standing before its small form once more alongside her creator, plucking the spirit of the girl she had killed--now folded up in an odd cube--up like a small toy, and reentering the planet's atmosphere.
Upon entry, she perceived a great deal of time had passed in mere minutes. She assumed that time functioned differently inside of her realm--her creator's realm. She questioned it not, however. She set the now much larger cube down here she had left the orange girl, before leaving.
Upon her completion, her creator pats her head with its loose human hands, before sending her back to her bright room--with the bed and the sign and the chair.

Part 3.

This cycle continues--her happy acceptance of her situation remaining. The next time she would be sent it would be to 'find another subject'. Upon warping into a flourishing street side, she sees a girl in a beautiful dress walking with her face down. She forces an environmental object to materialize Infront of her, and her collision with such makes her fall. While transporting her onto the freezing space her creator had requested, she changes the girl's clothes out in favor of... whatever she would usually wear: snagging the dress for herself. Depositing the girl in the same place she had left the last two.
After doing such, though, she doesn't return quickly. She tries on the dress in the voided in-between space she used to transport the girl, strutting back and fourth how she had seen the girl do. The red's contrast against the black great, she enjoyed how it made her feel. Special. Like an individual with some control. Before she could realize, though, she's brought back to her pocket dimension--without the dress.
Pouting for many months, she sits and draws with her own blood--managing to puncture her skin with the knife she had. This was all she did, for months. Draw lines and shapes on the 'floor', before sleeping and waking up and doing it again. Of course, without fail, another request was urged.
She is urgently informed of the fact that the cat woman would die if some interference hadn't occurred. That interference would need to be her.
Upon being sent and inspecting the situation through a screen akin to the one her creator had made, she finds the dispute was over the odd loose person inside of the robot girl. So, she thought, she would split them--give the weird inside one a body.
Bringing the inside one into a bright white space, she allows it to make a body for itself--she wasn't creative enough to do so anyway. It instructed, she listened and she made, simple enough. She stood Infront of the consciousness, keeping herself obscured, as she helped it manifest itself in a way it saw fit.
Upon finalization, she dumps both the new one and the old one back into the room, leaving without a trace. Opting to return straight to her room, no reason to expect praise.

Part 4.

After a time of sitting and fiddling her thumbs, she's ripped from her 'comfort' and told that a foreign parasite has managed to rip the subjects from containment, before she's told to 'handle it' and thrown out onto the planet it resided on. Scavenging the information available to her, she finds a small corporation is attempting to do exactly what she would told to do. She quickly tips off the organization on a stray machine she found that she believed could take it down, and then she goes in her room and waits. Waits For something to happen.
Nothing positive does. In her end, she's decommissioned, chained up in her room as a failed experiment. left to rot for all intensive purposes, but not killed.

Chapters.

Biography.

Opening his eyes to hardwood floor and a crowd surrounding himself, the throbbing pain of every part of his body blinds his eyes to anything but the screaming man standing over her. A large slurry of things that widdle down to leave, or get out. Standing shakily, though, the cheap fabric cloak seems to cling to his oddly short body, and with each step it was as if his body would bounce or shake in reaction. Pushing through the pounding and shifting sensations throughout his body, he managed to make it out of the forested area--now alone--without much struggle. Now later afternoon, though, with rain pouring down and drenching his body further, he would frequently step in large puddles of water while walking through the murky and barren streets. For some reason, though, up until a block away from home, he only then had realized the large mass crowding his vision when looking anywhere but straight-forward and up. Glaring murkily into one of the dozen puddles at his feet, he saw someone that wasn't himself glaring back. A woman, about his age--same tone and features, just... gentler. softer. When he repositioned his hand, the woman did the same.
As dozens of thoughts raced through his mind, the loudest, most distracting, was the worry of how he would manage to reenter his home. How his parents would recognize him as anyone but a random. He contemplated simply not--crashing somewhere and working until he could keep a roof over his head.
That was no way to think, he reassured himself, dozens of times. Looking up and awkwardly walking home--now cutely aware of his new form, he disregarded the cheap cloak in a nearby trash bin--no reason to return there, right? Timidly knocking on the door to his home, his mother answered first--obviously being minutes away from collapsing into bed. What saddened him the most, though, was how her usual gentle expression was replaced with one of confusion, hesitance. He stood there, nervously staring at his mother as she questioned--asked for where his parents were. As tears welled up in his eyes, he forced the bulb in his throat out--and spoke with his now gentle, high pitched voice. Pleading of his identity, begging for them to recognize him. For a small period, confusion remained stagnant on her face, but, for some reason, her face went slightly pale as she seemed to understand. Letting him in without questioning, she seemed wary--though nervously asking how she could help, promising to explain the situation to his father.
After a couple dozen minutes, though, he--now she, returned to her room at last. Sitting on her bed, she undressed--redressing into the loosest fit clothing in his wardrobe--still snug, though--and put himself to sleep.
Hoping to wake up from whatever bad dream this was.
Such a hope was farfetched, though.
He woke up, like any other day. His parents at work, the murky Saturday sky beating down on him.
A dozen or so texts had hit him at once hours ago, overall culminating in reassurance and the fact that it had been 'sorted out' with his school. Like that helped any.
Laying in bed, pantless, staring at his roof, he tried desperately to clear his mind of... impure thoughts.
All he could really do though, was lay. His mind flooded with constant anxiety spouts, he ended up completely bedridden.
For hours, he lay there. The only thing budging him being his parent's pressing. About replacing wardrobes, about periods, about basketball. About how he would handle losing everything.

Part 2.

Months had passed since her transition, and she had become even more of a NEET than before. The second day after her change, her parents had helped her legally change her name to Gabriella--the closest thing to her prior name. Quitting basketball in person, losing half of friends--left with only his job, his parents, and video games. His friends treated him vastly different because of her new appearance--and eventually she became too uncomfortable to handle the constant ogling and babying. Quitting basketball, too, as well as doing so in person--with the embarrassment still plaguing. Wearing a skirt that was slightly too small--awkwardly tugging on the rim the whole way through. Her wardrobe too, shifted, to be more dim and black--for no reason other than supposedly 'looking good in black'. Rarely leaving home, though, she stayed on her ass and played whatever video games she could find.
Though, eventually, she did end up forced out of her work. To go to work, to get food for herself or groceries for the household, for more video games. One of these times, though, had something different from her usual.
While walking on the dim sidewalk at around mid afternoon, she walked shakily--still not fully adapted to her now shifting weight--determined to get from point A to point B to point A again. Staring absently at her old and cracked phone, though, she hadn't heard the approaching footsteps. Unable to react, she stands in place--bracing for whatever was going to happen.
"Hello!" A high pitched, nerdy voice squeaked from Infront of her.
Having to look up, infront of her stood a woman around her age, her black hair dyed at its tips and her clothing thrown together--with no real sense of fashion or rhythm to it.
After responding with a much less attentive response, Gabriella stood staring, still, managing to catch a glimpse of a woman standing a few feet ahead of the girl, peering back.
"I'm Raven!" She says, with an odd eagerness to her voice before continuing.
"I just thought that you were really cute, and stuff." Raven says, fidgeting with the bandage wrapped around her neck, struggling with eye contact.
"Thanks." Gabriella responds, sighing and looking around slightly: before Raven continued, sensing the tensing air.
"I'm sorry if I'm being weird, I just-"
"It's fine, dude." Gabby interrupts, somewhat to get her out of her face, though mostly confused.
"Wanna get dinner?" Raven says, as abruptly as possible--almost like it was purposeful.
While dozens of thoughts swarmed through her head, the most beating and overbearing one was: 'is this girl stupid?'
She stood, staring Raven in her eyes while contemplating if this was truly worth it. She doubted Raven's ability to hurt her, and the past three months had been completely nothing. Her life needed spice or she would end up molding into her bed, she thought.
With a small sigh, Gabby agreed.
"Tonight?" She asked.
It was already five, she thinks, but what the hell? If anything the tenseness could be fun.
Raven offers her phone, Gabby inputs her phone number, and they part.
Who cares about the video games? She thinks. First chick to show any interest in her, and Gabriella refused to go gay. Or straight. Whatever.
Buying a dress and high heels, she changed in the public bathroom of a burger king nearby, shoving her old clothes in her purse. Dolling herself up to the best of her ability with what she had in her purse, by the time she got to the outside of the location Raven picked--an Olive Garden--it was already half past 9. She was late, though she hoped Raven wouldn't mind. She didn't know why she cared, but she did.
Upon seating, Raven was oddly surprised by Gabby's turnout. Raven's outfit had alot less effort--a collared shirt and jeans with tennis shoes. It was a pretty short notice, though.
The first thing Raven said was complimenting her dress. Like a little kid. She couldn't tell if she liked the seemingly minimum effort, but it did feel genuine. They sat there, awkwardly, with Raven ordering kid's chicken strips and a sprite; absently attempting small talk while Raven maintained eye contact and Gabby trying to appear as feminine as possible alongside pushing aside her rising worry of Raven's intentions.
After the first hour, though, Gabby had finally had enough with her worry. Deciding to be upfront, Gabby speaks starching.
"If you expect anything sexual from me, you should just go. I'm not into that.
She says, an awkward blush appearing on her cheeks as she continued to avoid eye contact.
Raven, though, seemed flabbergasted. Like she had just accused her of something horrible.
"No!" She responded, with a surprising amount of worry.
"Your just cute, and I wanted to get to know you, and stuff. I'm sorry for coming off that way, sorry." She says, her eyes fixated on Gabby.
Of course this chick didn't want anything like that. Though it felt mean to say, Gabby did quickly realize that she was in some way autistic. Didn't know how to interact properly, Gabby assumed.
"You're fine." Gabby responded.
"I was just... worried."
Raven didn't respond, however. She stared at Gabby, practically with hearts in her eyes.
Upon their food arriving shortly after, however, Raven devoured the chicken strips as Gabby attempted to maintain some femineity. After Raven realized of her behavior, though, she slowed down and timidly asked to hold Gabriella's hand. Just as abruptly as it sounded. In response, Gabby hesitantly agreed and they both ate and made idle small talk for the rest of the date.
Upon conclusion, though, Raven asked for a second date soon. To Gabby's surprise--mostly because she was scared she was being off-putting.
Returning home after departing, She informs her parents of why she was late, to which they were ecstatic.

Part 3.

In the following months, Raven and Gabby continued their dates and grew closer. Visiting Raven's place and Raven visiting her's, Gabriella's parents seemed to adore Raven just as much as Gabby did. After a year or so, with them officially dating and Gabby beginning to find herself comfortable inside of her new body, Raven's roommate was finally home when Gabby was. Raven had warned her, of the child her roommate had--in which Gabby assumed it was just Raven's mother.
To her surprise, though, it was the girl who had stood waiting. The kid, aswell, was just as strange. Small, green, her name was Fah. Looked kind of like a mouse. A well behaved kid, though, especially for her age. Gabby had never been one to like kids, but Fah was vividly different. Obedient, nice, well behaved. Raven's roommate, though, was noticeably different. starch and stern, and speaking once or twice when they first met: constantly glaring at Gabriella. Her oddly red eyes irked Gabby a weird way, aswell.
The first few hours of the visit went fine, though, whenever Raven had to leave to use the bathroom, her friend--named Phoenix--pounced. Making the reason for her eye pigment known--Phoenix was the god of which the cult she had walked into worshipped. Phoenix explained that she would put Gabriella through hell if she hurt Raven, before going off and listing more information than Gabby knew about Raven's preferences. Her likes and dislikes, the things she's embarrassed about--like an odd wingman of sorts.
After Phoenix's ranting, though, Gabriella brought up her... transformation. Asked if it was Phoenix's fault, To which Phoenix reacted with a starch surprise, before offering to readjust Gabriella to what she was before.
Gabby stood for what felt like an hour, thinking and contemplating, to which--to her surprise--Gabriella chose to stay as Gabriella.
The rest of the meeting continued without bumps, Playing with Fah and chatting with Raven, Gabby leaving and returning home near midnight, with Raven walking her home as usual. Kissing and hugging, Gabby once again tucked into bed, more content than she ever expected to be.

Gallery.

FNF Mod link!

Chapters.

Biography.

Opening her eyes to being notably larger, staring at the usual carpeted floor--though with significantly more weight on herself. Larger, taller, with 3 bending points on her five hairless fingers. 4 less tits, 2 less legs, her body completely morphed. Sitting on the floor, her body was a lot looser and nimble--younger, she thought. She continued to sit on the floor, poking and prodding her legs and arms with her odd fingers, unused to making her body move in its current state. She sat for hours, Miyah--her owner--away, Dusk unknowing of what happened. Why she was fleshy like Miyah, or larger and taller.
Scooting around the floor slightly, before Miyah came home--flinching seeing Dusk sitting there how she always had, before speaking.
"Who are you?" She said, rummaging through her leather purse.
In response, Dusk tried to speak; (Though, what would be considered a meow), the only thing leaving her mouth being weak squeaks and soft groans.
As she continued to try to speak, she felt... immeasurable pain sinking from her head--skin covering her eyes and losing the ability to breathe, like it was melting.
Miyah, in response, freaked. Continuing to question while she stared and ran over to the weather dial, Miyah mashed her finger on the cold option--Dusk assuming her face looked like it was burning because of how hot her face was.
After only a few minutes, the entire room was freezing: but Dusk's face managed to return to what it was. Less melted, but not small and with whiskers.
Miyah quickly jogged into her bedroom--and in response Dusk tried to follow, all fours and treading the ground how she always had.
"Put this on, please." Miyah said, staring the Dusk like she was a stranger--holding something akin to what Miyah wore over her hairless body
Miyah made direct eye contact, as Dusk sat and tilted her head--completely oblivious to what any of that meant.
Miyah stared Dusk in her eyes, for minutes, before realizing who Dusk was.
"Oh, baby..." Miyah said, sitting infront of her and putting her hand on her bigger head, petting her how she always had. For some reason, though, she didn't bat her away nor run. Just sat.
Miyah carefully put the 'shirt' on dusk, and though oversized it warmed her chest and legs up--comfortably.
For the following hours, Dusk sat silently while Miyah talked--teaching her how to speak and what words besides food and treat meant.
It took Dusk a couple days, but she grasped bare explanations of what happened alongside the language decently well. Wearing Miyah's old clothes while Miyah was still working, until she could take off to bring her clothing shopping. Why clothes were a requirement, Dusk didn't know--but she listened reluctantly.
Once Dusk could understand, though, she was told she couldn't go back to being small nor a 'cat' again, but she would live longer. Alongside a lot of other things Dusk didn't care about.
Dusk really could not care less about what happened. Nothing'll change for her, she assumed.
After such, though, she continued to live how she had. Now clothed with the first thing she could pull off the walmart racks, but that was it--aside from walking in two feet and being able to speak: to Miyah's distain. Constantly screaming for food or for her to wake up.
One day, though, following the months of usual daily life, while grocery shopping, Miyah spoke about actual responsibility to Dusk.
"You know, I won't be around forever you know." Miyah said, oddly somberly while taking a piece of uncooked packaged pork off the cooler.
"Uh-huh, so?" Dusk responded,
continuing to circle and fidget with the shopping cart already half full of groceries.
"Well that means you'll have to fend for yourself, and stuff. Be educated and work like I do." Miyah continued, finally making eye contact.
"What?"
"Dusk, you need to go to school or something." Miyah said, in a stern and somewhat rushed manner.
"What's... school?" Dusk asked, sensing something coming she wouldn't like.
"It's like, you learn more people stuff so you can do human stuff like get money..." Miyah said, turning back to the frozen and packaged meat.
"With other people." Miyah finished.
That's why Miyah was seemingly holding off. Dusk hated people, besides, well Miyah. Before Dusk could rebuttal, though, Miyah cut off her by continuing to speak.
"Of course, I could teach you at home. Like how i taught you to speak and stuff, but we need to do something. Sorry to take your cat stuff away from you but it's better to getcha started now than later."
"But-" Dusk spoke in retaliation, before Miyah sharply cut her off again.
"No buts baby, I know it sucks and if you really want I'll home school you but its gotta be something."
In the end, Dusk opted for the home schooling, and Miyah would take half of her time home to teach Dusk. To read and write, math, what she called crucial basics.
Weirdly, though, outside of schooling Miyah would desperately try to get Dusk to do things. Go to arcades or bowling, general activities. For whatever reason, Dusk didn't like to leave home and Miyah was worried about it. Of course, she's an inside cat. So why would she want to leave?
After weeks of pressuring, though, Dusk was convinced to atleast go out. Not with Miyah, though--that's embarrassing. At near midnight, she sits and fidgets with the exit doorway, trying to figure out how to open it: and eventually she does. She carefully and slowly steps out, staring into the darkness. Shaking and staring into the void, she slowly steps out and looks around: seeing murky trees and sidewalks, the same environment she was dumped in. Walking awkward around outside, she remembered the memories of her old owner--though blinded by nostalgia and her being young. She only walked about a block before she pussied out, got scared by the sounds and smells of the outside, and quickly walking back in and carefully shutting the door--going back to sleeping at the foot of Miyah's bed.
After a couple weeks of reminiscing, Dusk opts to ask Miyah about her old owner.
"What happened to the other servant?"
Dusk asked, late one Wednesday once they had finished her homeschooling.
"Hmm?"
"The guy before you, where did he go?" Dusk asks, her curiosity nagging further.
Miyah, though, seemed confused--before something clicked, and she spoke.
"I didn't know you had an owner before me, baby." *She said, reaching out and petting dusk before continuing.
"Why did he drop you at the road?"
Dusk didn't know, and responded with such.
In the end, the ending decision was that Miyah would think about it.
A few weeks later, though, Dusk got her resolution.
Begging Miyah further, Dusk begged.
"Please? I just wanna see him! I know where he is and everything and I just wanna ask why he left me and I know he cares and I just-" Dusk cut herself off, her ranting ending by her mind going blank.
Miyah would reluctantly agree.
Guiding Miyah's driving for miles, they would end up outside of the old house she knew well.
Knocking, though, led to the same man she knew--dirtier and messier though. She stood there, begging him to recognize her, and even once he did she was rejected. Miyah assisted none, standing back and handling it alone like Dusk said she wanted to.
Dusk ended up crying into Miyah's arms in a gas station parking lot.
Dusk spends months wrestling with herself about her old owner--who she didn't even know the name of--and how he acted. Miyah was the only reason she didn't lose it, and by her reassurance she realized just how sucky he was. Dusk, though mostly forcing her feelings away, came to terms with it eventually.
"You know he was bad for you, baby." Miyah said, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she got out of the car to put more gas in it, months since the incident.
"But he was nice before, I thought!" Dusk said, while also begging for money--making small motions with her hand so she could go in to get something to eat.
"You were just young, kitty." Miyah stated softy, giving her money as Dusk nodded with a slight 'yeah' before rushing in and buying a carton of milk.
Walking out and back to the car, though, Miyah's voice reverberated from it.
"Milk again?" Miyah shouted.
"You know you can't eat it!"
"Can it!" Dusk responded--same volume--as she sat down into the car, lazily putting her seatbelt on and putting the open gallon to her mouth.

Chapters.

Gallery.

Gallery.

Biography.

Upon exiting the goopy, unattractive motive of transport that was the norm for inter dimensional travel, the succubus was overwhelmed with dozens of feelings: the breeze hitting her face, the hustle and bustle of the four dozen of so people strutting around the flower enclosers surrounding it. Standing as awkward as she always had, she quickly realizes just how many appendages had appeared on her body. Arms, eyes, a nose, things she couldn't grasp how to move. Wandering around the deteriorating concrete paths of the flower garden she found herself in--before an odd man, tired looking: someone who she assumed to work there spoke up, looking down to her.
"Uhm, miss? Weren't you given an ID? You know you can't be within the reservoir without one, right? What's your name?" His voice dry, uncaring, his eye bags becoming more prominent with each passing minute.
"Uhm... my name?" The succubi spoke, unknowing of how she spoke without the prior ability to.
"It's uhm..." She continues, not knowing at all what to say. Glancing around in a desperate attempt to find something to say.
"Poppy... Poppenhelm!" She says, glancing at the field of red flowers.
"Sounds... right enough. You're fine. I guess." The tired man spoke, before walking off.
After her brief conversation, she continues to wander around aimlessly, ogling and staring at the colorful environment, amazed by anything that isn't murky reds or browns or blacks. Actual colors.
Mindlessly wiggling her fingers, blinking and breathing and doing everything she couldn't, she would spend the following days mindlessly wandering around.
Quickly realizing her lack of home, shelter, food, really anything needed to survive.
To her luck, though, upon entry to the random fast food place she picked she was easily hired without so much as an appointment. Still wearing her sweat drenched sweater and pants she exited hell with, she was hired.
Still not accustom to her limbs, she struggled slightly with handling a grill.
But it was easy money.
Though, sadly, she couldn't keep up her avoidance of intercourse. Growing weak with each passing day, she needed to do something.
Walking around outside, near her job, the proximity to the gym was an easy excuse as to why she was so sweaty. On one of her usual walks around in an attempt to not appear homeless, though, a sweaty, man of whom was feet taller than her and muscular as can be walked up, and with a voice too gentle to come from him, he spoke.
"I see you 'round here alot, don't I?" He spoke, his hazel bulbs peeping down at her, with not a hint at malice. His aura made her feel... safe.
"Yeah!" Poppy replied, her usual preppy, happy tone to it.
"What's a pretty lil' thing like you doin' out here on the streets?"
"Huh?"
"I assume your homeless?" and her small cover was blown. She had tried to keep it concealed, but seemingly it was apparent enough.
"I uhm... just need... money and stuff, and I'm trying to get it but working is hard and stuff." She responds, shyly rubbing her neck, mostly out of embracement.
"Sellin' your body ain't good you know. How old are you?" he responds, with the same tone of a disappointed parent.
"I-I don't do that!" she sputters, before faking a gag.
"And I'm like, I think nineteen." Followed by another, finishing gag.
"Your too young to be on the streets, girl. Listen, I'll give you a lil' deal." Poppy's eyes perked up.
"If you can pay for some of my rent, I'll let'chu stay with me, ya hear?"
What did she have to lose? She thought. He seemed... fine.
"Plus, homeless people bring down the land value." He let out a small chuckle, trying to let the mood lively up.
Following their chat, she brought her little bag of stuff to his place. A middle of the road apartment, but it was enough. Two bedrooms, so there would be no sleeping together--thankfully.
The following months went by well enough, though she did slowly weaken. Learning his name was Jacob, and After months of pressing from where she came from, her parents or whatever source she could respond. She eventually let it spill, even though it was against her own best interest.
"I'm a like... a demon, thing, that... feeds on... sex." She starts, growing shaky with each passing word.
"It's kinda why I've always been so weak. I hate the idea of doing that type of thing, but I need it to survive so I'm just depriving myself and stuff and you know." Her voice slowly trails off following, her speech becoming more shaky.
"I'm sorry if this makes you hate me, or if you don't want me here. I don't have parents or anything or a home or... whatever... it's why I was on the streets." She avoided eye contact. This conversation was painful.
Though, to her surprise, he was understanding. He didn't try to call her bluff or anything, just nodded along. Following her frantic questions about getting removed from his place, he didn't even hint at such. It was almost eerie, she thought.
Things continued as normal, to her surprise. Absent chats, off and on gym visits, working her dead-end job.
One day, though, on their usual walk to his gym and her job, an odd man with a cross necklace and a bottle that he gripped with almost as much anger as his face portrayed.
Upon walking Infront of them, his face grimaced. Shouting words she couldn't make out in her face, the spit from his mouth landed on her freshly washed face. Without time to react, he splattered what felt like blistering water all over her--right before Jacob socked him in the face, the odd older man dropping to the floor.

Biography.

After waking up to the sins of the world, Poppy's life changed distinctly. Being more reclusive and anti-social compared to talking to every person she sees, Poppy would spend most of her time inside Jacob's apartment, she gradually eased into playing video games after Jacob offhand mentioned it. While following him around his gym after she finished that day's shift, he brought up multiple things to her--as usual to his attempts to make conversation with his socially inept friend, being especially desperate to get her to speak after her accident.
"We should probably get ya a phone, eh?" he brought up, as he wiped a bead of sweat from his vein popped forehead.
Upon her questioning though, he would explain something that changed her life trajectory.
In basics, all she heard was 'little lights with games and easy Jacob access'.
Following their conversation, Jacob would bring her to a local mall--instead of doing their usual route home.
Upon entry to the huge building with millions of people and dozens of bright stores, she dragged him around like a little kid in a candy store: quite literally half the time. 50% of the stores she brought him into, were, infact, candy stores. thankfully though, all of her purchases came from her pocket--excluding her phone and the gun Jacob would eventually buy her, and a purse to put both in. She marveled at all three. She loved the tappy little screen and the way the purse felt, but Jacob refused to let her have the gun until she had Some practice: so they ended up going to a gun range following the mall escapade.
She HATED the sound the gun made, flinched like an abused child. Loud sound scary, overstimulating.
Following their busy day, though, the following weeks for Poppy would be spent playing angry birds and flappy bird--eating the candy and playing with the trinkets she bought.
Jacob's worst nightmare.
Her becoming a shut in.
After about a week of her staying in her room or not looking up from her phone, Jacob tried to get her hobbies, make her do something.
Eventually buying her a membership to his gym, more or less forcing her into being fit.
Not like she didn't like it, though. She loved speaking to her friend, it just meant less angry birds.
Her becoming a gym rat led to her becoming even more physically exhausted, and basically unable to move, she realized she needed to have Some intercourse, or she would end up dead and rotting.
"I'm dying, Jacob." She said, at likely the worst possible time--right after their gym visit for the day.
"Huh?" he said, cut off gaurd.
"I'm like, a succubi and stuff, and... the whole sex thing is catching up to me. I've been trying to make it less notable but it hurts. Really bad. All the time, actually I uhm... haven't slept, like at all in the past while." She said, barely mustering it out while twiddling her fingers and desperately avoiding eye contact.
In response, he could only muster a short "Oh" before continuing their walk in silence. Upon walking inside his place, though, he finally fully responded.
"ya know, I know it sounds odd but--and of course I wouldn't really enjoy it--but I amma man and... If it's life or death... you know."
"You would?" she responded, mostly confused. She wouldn't really think of the implications.
"ya my friend, girly. I'm fine goin' against myself to help ya. But you gotta promise it wasn't some long term thing to get the deed outta me, ya hear?"
"I-" she sputtered, flabbergasted at the implication.
"I would never! I just don't wanna die!" She said, able to feel her face paleing.
He chuckled at her distress, being quick to comfort her in that he didn't actually think that she was manipulating him.
Following their conversation, though, they agreed to... do the deed once a month at most--usually in silence and as quickly as possible.
The only real notable part of those happenings was the fact Jacob spent near an hour the first getting straight that him ejaculating in her WOULDN'T make her pregnant. That it was basically putting gas into a car.
That was the last notable thing in their lives, though. They would spend the rest of their life working and going to the gym, occasionally shopping and doing the... you know.

Chapters.

Chapters.

Gallery.

Chapters.

Fun Facts.

Biography

As a result of a freak accident with their mother's pregnancy, Nicholas' hair and eyes were an unnatural coral color--though swiftly being covered by dyes and colored contacts. In their teenage years, is a transgender woman--though with no chosen name as a result of their parent's homophobia and general disapproving nature. Spending most of their teen age in recluse, with their few childhood friends drifting as Nick discovered their identity, and became more of an outcast out of fear of being disapproved of. Near all of their time was spent either at school or playing games: their parents allowing them to be unemployed until 18.
Spending more of their time being an antisocial shut-in, they also in secret were planning a way to run away from home: desperate to remove the barriers that were forced on their person.

Biography

After playing out her plan to flee to Canada, Nicholas adopted the name Nicole, Nicholas first attempted transitioning--thankfully his features we're already feminine. After spending mere hours within her new situation, though, Nicole very quickly realized just how skint she was. Desperate to not be homeless, and refusing to get a job (believing the repetitive work would likely murder her attention span) she slowly turned to prostitution. Buying silicone breasts and wearing the most colorful clothing, she attempted to flanderize herself to an extreme. Wearing one colored contact, and dying her hair to be more pink than it was, she desperately tried to exaggerate herself to make herself stand out.
Managing to scrounge up enough money to hop between cheap hotels indefinitely. Though, towards the tail end of her second year in Canada, an old friend managed to find her: and pull her out of her plight.

Gallery

Biography

While on her usual late night patrol, Nicki is found by a childhood friend, Jay Ceaserel--Now known as Moth--more or less adopted her. As a result of his overwhelming popularity as a male clothing model, he had the money to room her, and provide for her. Spending thousands helping her legally change her name to her chosen name--now Nola, desperate to abandon her prostitute identity--and getting her the transition help she requires, she ends up a NEET again, though in a body and place she can be comfortable again. Though, she was incredibly afraid to have her curves be visible--out of fear of herself being seen how she was when she was Nicki.
Spending her days chatting it up with her rich friend in New York, playing games on an actual console for the first time in years.
She also found out she needed glasses! That's probably why she couldn't see three feet infront of her. What do you know?

Biography

Biography

In his youth, Moth was mostly unremarkable--aside from the fact a pre-pubescent friend of his suddenly went missing one day. This fact continued until his late teens in which he survived a freak accident in which his left eye exploded. Leaving him partially blind, he lost the ability to do most coordination based jobs, though, thankfully, a modeling agency took him in: for both his disability representation and his overall attractive physical. Spending his late teens building up his reputation and traveling, he would lose most time for friends, or even his family.
Though, on a tour to Canada, he would rediscover a friend of whom he thought was long gone. While walking around the more slum-filled part of the area, he found Nick (now Nicki, or later on Nola) concealed under the identity of a sex-driven prostitute. Desperate to help his past friend back onto her feet, Jay tried desperately to do anything he could to get his friend out of her addictions. Therapy, allowing her to live in his luxury mansion in the city for free, anything.
It eventually worked in his favor, and Nola became his permanent roommate.
At last, Moth had someone to talk to besides Execs and his agent.

Biography

Jesi is a stray NPC in a late 90's video game. Spending all of her time in her preset spot, up until her epiphany shattered her mind. Upon realizing that she wasn't real, she abandoned her friends and family to live in the forest--desperate to avoid the preprogrammed people and things poluting her world. Learning to live off the grid, She picked up dozens of survival skills.
Managing to off grid until the late 2000s, when the game's developers found her, and terminated her code, more or less killing her.

Biography

Crow is the physical embodiment of the force of Karma. Coming to those who have made extreme action, and warning that soul of their choice's impact. Though, refusing to speak consistently, his vocabulary is very outdated alongside the facts he speaks in riddles and talks in circles. He is incorporeal, and as a result can phase in and out of existence at will. Even though he may be the force of Karma, he is not the thing causing it--though he does know what'll happen. With this knowledge, he opts to warn vaguely those who will be punished or rewarded immensely.

Biography

Aster is patient 0 of the attempted creation of cat-girls. Taking a young girl from an orphanage (alongside the cheap purple spotted blanket she refused to ditch) and experimenting on her in secret, Modify Inc. twisted and combined Aster's DNA with that of a feline. Though, when the experiments finalized on six year old Aster, the only parts that were maintained from a feline were the unattractive ones.
Alongside such a detriment, she near pointblank began breaking out with diseases: Rabies, Scabies, the like. Modify quickly dumping her and her rubbish in a nearby forest--hoping she would just rot so they could continue their endeavors--she didn't. The feline survival instincts kicked in, and through the twitches and agony pulsing through her body, she lived in a broken down, abandoned storage shed. Scavenging for food and getting caught in vines and leaves--torn up by all sorts of animals--the only friend Aster would have was the children's blanket she was disregarded with.
Spending years in the forest, she would only be given salvation when a middle aged woman by the name of Angelica Heisel would save her from her purgatory.

Biography

After she was adopted by Angelica, she was fixed up most completely. Being given clothes that fit her, alongside being gifted with the graces of modern medicine, most of her ailments were cured--though sometimes drooling slightly as an after affect of her rabies. After being groomed, cleaned, and enlisted into school, Aster was finally able to live a normal child's life--though with cat features.

Biography

Yoyai as a little girl was the average back of the class quiet kid. Sitting and coloring through elementary, playing at public parts on the swings alone, the whole nine years. Though, around 5, a great tragedy would strike her. While her father was preoccupied and she was using the restroom, a man walked in and sexually assaulted her, cutting up her thighs and bruising her harshly. She was rushed to the Emergency room and the man was dealt with by her father. As a result of this trauma, Yoyai was essentially mute for the rest of her life. Going through dozens of speech therapy classes, nothing worked. Her father eventually adjusting and treating and aiding her as required, Yoyai eventually managed to live a somewhat normal life. Making a couple friends in person by carrying around a notebook, aswell.

Biography

Hana was abandoned by most everyone in her youth--left by her mother in an orphanage, with all of her friends leaving her shortly after as a result of her rather unsettling aura. As a result of this and her DPD, she grew dependent on her relationships with other people. Frantically trying to date, make friends, and talk to anyone she can: nothing would last. This--especially when she got hired at a butcher shop--would lead to her mind blanking to which she would slaughter, skin, cook, and eat those whom would try to abandon her. As a result of her growing delusions, she believed that the people she killed we're safe, and were with her still. Most people would be able to pick up on this unsettling aura--but the butcher shop served as a good cover for such. Those who weren't as socially conscious, though, wouldn't live to warn anyone.

Form Selection

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Biography

"Jane" is the name of a creature of which had existed for hundreds of years, feasting on the foolish and weak by transforming into a form they will trust. Though, as a result of it's age, it fails to maintain it's physical stability of a shifted form--leading to it not really looking that convincing. The way which this entity functions, alongside this, is targeting one person or thing. This targeting, is a mental lock and it cannot mentally make itself switch targets until it has had it's taste on the original. As a result, when transformed it is a socially anxious, rushing mess to get away from anyone who it isn't targeting. Living in the forest and only coming out to feed, it primarily targeted those whom were located in it's domain. This, though, led to it accidentally joining a cult of which worshipped itself. Only when shifted can it speak--and in broken sentences at that--and as an added extent of it's low IQ; it only saw the cult as a near endless food source, it fails to realize of what it was actually apart of.

Biography

The Forest Dweller is the name of a creature of which had existed for hundreds of years, feasting on the foolish and weak by transforming into a form they will trust. As a result of it's intimidating and eerie form, it is obligated to shapeshift. When searching for food, it enacts a form of 'targeting'. This targeting, is a mental lock and it cannot mentally make itself switch targets until it has had it's taste on the original. As a result, it typically avoids large groups of prey--that was until a group moved into it's domain.
This group worshipped it, though as a result of it's lackluster intelligence it did not know.
As an extension of it's low IQ, it lacks the ability to speak outside of gurgles unless it is shifted.