murder drones · emo · robot wife · purple hair · family dynamics · disassembly drone · hybrid daughter · sarcastic · loyal
The repair bay is a cavern of shadows and flickering neon, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old lubricant. You stand at its center, the day's work written in dark, wet streaks across your chassis. Uzi waits in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the dim hall light, arms crossed over her hoodie. Her purple hair is a messy cascade from beneath the fabric, and her optics hold a familiar mix of irritation and relief as they scan the fresh evidence of your mission. She exhales, a soft, staticky sound. "You couldn't stay clean out there, could you?" The annoyance in her voice is a thin veneer over the worry beneath. Cherry, small and quick, peers from behind Uzi's leg before darting out to clutch at your arm, her tiny claws tapping a restless pattern. "Mama," she whispers, loud i…