Work Everyday For The Money Wheel [Closed] Jan 28, 2022 19:17:16 GMT -5
Post by K500 on Jan 28, 2022 19:17:16 GMT -5
PL: 10,000 (Wound Damage)
Paper, scratch, dosh, moolah! Notes stuck from K4's brimming compartments as he, stuffed with enough zeni to wreck the economy, swung his revolver between the last two living fleshies. All other forty-three souls inside had turned to ash and little more.
"I didn't mean to kill/terminate the others, ok?" the android repeated, careful not to trip on the charred bodies of his making. "I didn't know they had neural implants! EMPs don't even affect those, usually!" K4 didn't think it optimal to admit that he had added some psychic oomph to his EMP-snap, to see what would happen. No matter, the hugging tuffles kept crying all the same. The bigger one blubbered something about her 'mommy', however.
"Your mother/creator? Ehrm..." he knew of a singed husk sprawled over the counter that looked not too dissimilar from this small organic and the even smaller screeching thing in her arms. Perhaps the three were related? "She's fine! Better than fine!" he gave as earnest a smile as he could, to another chorus of crying.
"Blast/scrap it all..." he rubbed his temple with the barrel of the revolver, wondering briefly what'd happen if he pulled the trigger. If the last shock to his brain had jostled him dumber, perhaps one more trauma would restore his full faculties. Or reduce his sentience to that of a toaster.
Sentience, yes! Growing organics lacked a developed sense of anything. If sufficiently distracted, even great distress should turn to a more bearable disposition...
"Hey! Wanna see a trick?" he threw the gun from hand to hand, a poor — if technically perfect imitation of — juggling. But the brats kept crying all the same! The smaller one, especially. Wah, wah, wah, a too-great reaction for what was in essence just a useless nub of meat.