Kind of a Big Deal [Open]

4K was Kythl'gneg's ideal man.

Ideal for making money, of course! Those strong arms... perfect for hauling bags of cash. That sleek, silvery hood... perfect for advertising space. That standoffish, against-the-grain personality, the inteligence beneath the veneer of vitriol he displayed... perfect for wooing a crowd of mortals with full pockets and feeble minds. 

And his current state? Down on his luck, popularity lowering as sure as the sun set in the evening!? Perfect for her to recruit. Just the kind of man who needed her magic touch. 

She'd been prepping for this day for quite a while- she'd watched all his matches, scrounged up as much information on the droid as she could find online- and tailored her script and demands accordingly. Man! The internet was so useful. If only she knew about it when she was getting her 17th degree in Mortal Studies, it would've been a breeze! 

Getting her bachelor in Mortal Compassion and Empathy was such a pain in the ꁅꎇꀸ. What dumb animals!

Nonetheless, it came in handy now. She'd arrived at the autograph session, waiting a few hours so that the man's mental processors would've been shot from the copious number of individuals and high number of strange requests. 

But then! The perfect opportunity struck. A crazed fan, approaching him from the crowd. 

Slipping out from her hiding spot (a dark corner of the room, where she'd concealed herself with the essence of HIFL itself) she scooted her way over to the table.

Very, very discreetly, Kythl'gneg yanked on the thing as soon as the boy's foot touched it's surface. His lack of balance and high enthusiasm was almost certainly a factor in his fall, but Kyth's leg tentacle was no slouch either. 

Shadowy tendrils shooting from her stomach-mouth, all of the stray papers and objects present on the desk were caught and kept in neat piles, all in a manner of seconds. In the same instant, Kyth righted the table and placed all the objects back where they were meant to be, as if the thing hadn't ever fallen at all. Her managerial skill was impressive.

She didn't miss a beat, either. 

"-an? You're his biggest fan?" shaking her head, Kythl'gneg took a sidelong glance at the android, smug smile adorning her smug face. "Mister 4k, that man is a bold-faced liar. After all, your real biggest fan is this girl right here."

To punctuate her point, Kythl'gneg withdrew her nine 4K bodypillows. Yes, nine. One for each of her back tentacles. It was anyone's guess where she stored them.

"A great pleasure to meet you, 4K. My name is Kythl'gneg! Would you mind giving these a sign for me? I'd be very appreciative!"

A sly wink.

---

    Kythl'gneg did sound horribly alien to Galactic Standard parlance, maybe the name was that foreign. 4K, a master in all languages ever put to code, subscribed to an app that could decode most written and spoken ciphers on the fly, could glean no meaning from the strange outbursts of noise the woman made at times. How distressing. And she didn't have a brain? "Oi, oi, there's plenty of me to go around!" he snapped at his cosplayer, a bit hurt that the guy had dropped the visor he had just signed... These Punished Warthogs were definitely not in cahoots, but the machine man couldn't care less. What really mattered here was that he had captured the hearts (or passing interest, at least) of two very different, very profitable demographics!

    4K greedily took in the glow of the phone, never mind that his personal space had been breached. Kythl's pitch, practiced yet spontaneous-sounding, fried diodes all over the machine man. So this was what being manipulated felt like? More of that, please! "Ah... I'm guessing nobody fell for your travel scam and now you need to make up for your losses?" he grinned full of contempt, even if he was already sold immensely on the idea. Influencers of his caliber mustn't come off as easy, for the bottom line's sake. "Fleshy!" he pulled down the tentacle for a moment, wanting to look Rensou in the eyes "How much would you invest for the chance of winning a stylized image file of my person?" he noticed the strange indescribable layering — perhaps the lack thereof — of the majin's limb. Bizarre as the gummyfolk could be, this one was particularly... odd. For some reason he was starting to like her less. He put away the tentacle, politely but firmly. "Say that I throw in some voice lines, and my victory theme plays when some conditions are met. It's a mobile game, so they shouldn't be too hard, anyhow."

This poor kid had no idea how economics worked!

"Did you not just hear yourself, kid!?" spoke an exasperated Kythl'gneg, her hidden frustration bleeding through her sickeningly businesslike tone. As a (self-proclaimed) expert on business and sales, she couldn't simply allow this kid to lecture her on her own practices. Like preaching to a choir, if the choir was deaf. What'd he know, anyways!?

"You just said if you could get a stylized image file of his person, you'd spend all your money to get it." she aimed her tentacles at her temples, leaning over the table to peer into his very soul. "Think, kid! Think! We already know what you need- and it's up the hard-working businessfolk like us to provide you with those very needs!"

Motioning to the machine standing beside her, the annoyance gradually drifted from her tongue, replaced by a tone that'd make any retail worker blush."And what you need... is right here! Feast your eyes upon his metalic complexion! Nary a scratch to be found, despite intense battles! A rebel against the system! One who can inspire both fear and admiration in equal measure! What is a role model, if not him!? What should you strive for in life, if not to be like him!? What is perfection if not him!? Certainly, as Mister 4k's biggest fan, this should all be obvious to you!"

Withdrawing her phone and placing a few practiced taps, Kythl'gneg brought up a screen containing a 3d render of the robot standing beside her.

"So what about... having him... to go!?"

In truth, this whole situation was simply Plan A- hidden in the 9th bodypillow was a contract which, though a complex series of unseen void contraptions, the bot had unwittingly added his signature to. He'd already signed away the rights to his own visage. Kythl'gneg always came prepared.

But fortunately, such contingencies didn't seem to be needed.

Poking the 4K on the screen, a pre-recorded voice clip played, cut directly from his tournament match: WARTHOGS!  mocked the screen, the soundbyte seemingly as compressed as humanly possible.

"A work in progress," remarked Kyth, returning her phone to her pocket. "-but a work in progress with undeniable charm, no?"

"Oh, and also, the Namek gig is going just fine, Mister 4K. There's some very interesting opportunities on such a planet, especially for a man like you..."

She lied as easilly as she breathed.