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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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You are a Construct, an autonomous creature built from steel, and given life by ancient magic and modern ingenuity. Unlike most, you have mistakenly achieved sentience, and have received civil rights. You are also a detective with the city police.

Today, you and your partner Catherine Russo have narrowed down the location of an illegal chop shop to a warehouse near the pier. For the most part, Russo lead the case, but now the two of you may be walking into the jaws of a tiger, and you have both prepared accordingly with surplus ammunition and equipment. Russo leads the way to the front door, confidently striding forward with intent to assert her position for what is likely the first time since you've met her. You yourself are uncertain, but not afraid. At least not for yourself.

Russo reaches the door and takes a deep breath. You, with your shotgun slung over your shoulder, take up position.

>Stand behind Russo (Make her feel in charge)
>Stand outside the doorway, out of sight
>Stand beside Russo (Make her feel safe)

Previous thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/44861082
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>>44879336
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>>44879336
Awesome I caught the beginning of one.
>Stand beside Russo (Make her feel safe)
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>>44879336
>Stand beside Russo (Make her feel safe)

Hopefully she doesn't get hurt. Again.
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>>44879385
>Stand beside Russo (Make her feel safe)
You stand next to Russo, reassuring her without the need for words that the two of you are in this together. She raps on the metal door, and within moments the locks spring open from the other side, and the door cracks. On the other side is a Con, American make but on the shorter side. He peeks at the two of you, then opens the door fully.

"Good afternoon. Your clothing denotes you as members of the local police force. Might I inquire as to your reason for visiting?"

"We're just here to look around, we got reports of strange sounds coming from this building." Russo seems calm and collected.

"I assure you, officer, nothing out of the ordinary is occurring here. Please be on your way."

"We just need to look around, then we'll leave."

"I see. Very well, please follow me." The Con stands aside to let the two of you pass, and you enter. He shuts the door behind you and begins leading you through the office toward the main building. The warehouse is huge, and the ceiling is raised so high you wouldn't be shocked if they had a whole flock of pigeons settled in the rafters. More interesting though, is the fact that there are at least four more Cons in the building, all seemingly standing around doing nothing. None of them seem sentient, meaning that they must have some goal to accomplish by being here.

"Sir? I think we should seperate and look for anything suspicious." Russo looks to you for your opinion.

>"Sure, let's get this done with."
>"No, I don't trust these guys."
>>
>>44879847
>"No, I don't trust these guys."
Never split the party
>>
>>44879847
>"No, I don't trust these guys."

This is quiet. Too quiet.
>>
>>44879907
>"No, I don't trust these guys."

Russo nods, and the two of you begin moving together. You search up and down, behind shelves and under tables, all the while being watched by the Cons. You don't find any vehicles, or any usable parts, but you do see oil stains, toolboxes, and even worn tires. This place is definitely fishy, but none of this is hard evidence, since it could have been here for years. After about twenty minutes, you turn to consult with Russo, and find that the Con who lead you in has suddenly appeared between you. The others aren't far behind either.

"I trust you have found no incriminating evidence, officer. If that is all, please leave this place of business, and allow us to return to work." You don't like his monotone, but you've got nothing.

>"Alright, let's get out of here, Russo."
>"Not so fast. I think you're hiding something." (15%)
>"Your call, Russo?"
>Other
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>>44880116
Is it a non sentience capable con?
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>>44880355
As far as you can tell, yes
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>>44880116
>"Your call, Russo?"
>>
>>44880116
>Ask one of the cons that were standing around what their purpose here is.
Can non-sentient cons lie?
>>
>>44880392
>"Your call, Russo?"

Again, you defer to Russo. She presses her finger to her lips and furrows her brow. The Con watches her intently. She seems to chew something with great fervor, until finally you see her eyes raise up and snap to the Con's face.

"Where is your owner? You're not wearing clothes, so you don't seem sentient." Russo taps her lower lip while speaking, almost as if to keep rhythm.

"He is currently occupied elsewhere."

"With what?"

"I...he has instructed me not to inform you."

"Is he doing something illegal?"

"Officer, I would not admit to any action of my owner that would incriminate him of a crime-"

"But that doesn't mean he's innocent. Are you hiding something for him?"

"I do not-"

"Is he nearby?"

"He is-"

"Answer my question."

"Which do-"

"I'm asking you what your owner is doing, and why he isn't here."

"I was instructed to-"

"I didn't ask about you, I asked about him. Where is he?"

"He is currently occcupied."

"With his illegal activities."

"I cannot admit to-"

"To his crimes. Which crimes would they be."

"Theft and black market dealings."

Shit. Russo was either lucky or clever, but either way, in the next three seconds after those last words, the room seemed to petrify into stone. You looked to her, and spotted a sly grin, like a predator seeing a defenseless animal on its last leg. The Con addressing you merely stared into space, and the rest of the Cons in the building looked at one another in concern. This all came to a stop when the Con spoke again.

"Officers, is it your intent to arrest my owner, and thereby endanger him by forcing him into imprisonment?" Before you can say anything, Russo in her confidence speaks up.

"Yes. He'll be arrested for his crimes, and placed on trial." The Con doesn't move, but his friends all raise their arms.

"I see. That is regrettable."

>Stand in front of Russo
>Grab Russo and run
>Open fire
>Other
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>>44880615
If they're told to lie. Normal Cons have simple but very manipulable thought processes. A Construct can't come to a conclusion based on abstract information, instead falling back to conclusion previously formed for him. If you tell a Con to watch a baby, and feed it if ti cries, he will feed the baby every time it cries for as long as it continues to cry, because he has no idea what else to do. If you tell him to feed the baby, and then resort to changing it, and then to resort to rocking it, and none of those work, he'll just continue rocking it until something else happens. You'd even have to instruct them to seek further help or they'd just keep looping the same process ad infinitum
>>
>>44880627
>>Stand in front of Russo
Weapon at the ready to fire back
>>
>>44880692
>Open fire
>>
>>44880627
>Stand in front of Russo
>>
>>44880627
>Stand in front of Russo AND open fire
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>>44880824
>>Stand in front of Russo

You take a step in front of Russo just in time. The Cons, the talker included, raise their arms and flex their hands until the fingers are bent nearly backwards. You see as their arms shift and rearrange themselves, revealing short barrels, and long magazines that swing down and snap into place. All at once, they begin firing.

You are hit by a barrage of 9mm, which do not do much more than scrape your new finish. you raise your own gun, and fire, only realizing after you have that your rounds too are helplessly bouncing off of the Cons here. You turn back to check on Russo, but she is gone. Instead, you hear the familiar roar of her 44, and peer around to spot her on a steel staircase leading up to a catwalk a few meters away. She has loaded in her HE rounds, and with careful aim she blows open the chest of one of the Cons, albeit with two or three tries. The other Cons see this, and turn on her, giving you precious seconds to eject your regular ammunition, and load in a magazine full of AP rounds. You raise your arm to fire again, but are stopped by the talker, who wrestles you vigorously to keep your gun away from his comrades.

>Put a few in his head
>Use the Tickler
>>
>>44880981
>blow him away
>>
>>44880981
>Use the Tickler

If it is registered

>Put a few in his head

If it isn't
>>
>>44880981
>Use the Tickler
zap zap
>>
>>44880981
>Blow him away
We haven't even tested it.
>>
>>44881104
now is a perfect time to.
>>
>>44881144
Testing something that might knock you out in the middle of a gunfight is not the appropriate field test situation.

Nevertheless, eh. The worst that could happen is it shorts us out and Russo gets killed before we're captured by the person doing the chopshop work.
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>>44881014
>blow him away
You switch hands, putting your gun in your right. You raise it, and squeeze the trigger, putting two bullets in the head of the Con. They go through his skull, though not easily, and rattle his insides enough to shut him down. Whether his memories are recoverable are not a concern now.

You turn and raise your gun again, aiming at one of the Cons firing at Russo. However, when you squeeze the trigger this time, you see an arc of electricity jumps from your elbow, then reconnect with your wrist. All at once, there is thunder and lighting, filling your sensors with too much stimulation to keep things straight. You are blown back, crashing into a shelf, and sliding onto the floor. You can neither see, nor hear anything for a moment, and when you finally do regain the ability, you look down and see that your arm has been blown clean off from the elbow down, exposing wires, bearing, pistons, and gears. Not long after, you feel a pain the likes of which you never could have imagined was possible. You scream, so hard in fact that your vox peaks, turning your voice into a static scratching like the nails on satan's chalkboard. Worst of all, the Tickler's connections are causing you to lose power at an alarming rate. You don't think you can remain aware at this rate, at least not safely.

You look over and see that Russo has taken care of two more Cons, but you can't see her from this low position, and have no idea how she's holding up.

>Try to stand
>Go into low-power
>>
>>44881331
>Try to stand
By which I mean, grab the damn gun from the floor and shoot the other ones fast.
>>
>>44881331
>Rip off the Tickler with your free hand and get back in the fight.
We gotta tell that mechanic what happened
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>>44881401
>Rip off the Tickler
>>44881331
>your arm has been blown clean off from the elbow down
>>
>>44881382

You look around for your gun, but it seems the explosion blew it further away than you'd anticipated, and you spot it across the warehouse floor, closer to the enemy than you. You struggle to stand, despite the pain, and pull the riot gun from over your shoulder. It's loaded with about seven shots, which should be plenty, assuming you can remain standing.

You stumble back toward the fight, and level the barrel of your weapon. As the Cons spot you, you squeeze, firing off a loud burst of buckshot. Normally, these pellets would do very little, but you are careful and precise, putting your shots into the joints of the Cons, to sever or at least disconnect their limbs. By the end of the firefight, the Cons are scattered across the floor, you are holding an empty gun in your one remaining hand, and you can barely stay awake.

As you fall to one knee, Russo slides over from wherever on earth she'd been. You don't see a scratch on her, but you're having trouble seeing at all right now. You're already down to one third power.

"Sir! Are you alright! Speak to me, sir!"

>"Get me to a damn mechanic..."
>"You alright, Russo?"
>"Call for backup."
>Other
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>>44881837
>Other
>I'm losing power, throw a tarp over me and call for backup and get out of sight. I'm going into low power mode. Wake me when you've got reinforcements and a nice battery for me.
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>>44881837
>"Call for backup."
>"Get me to a damn mechanic..."
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>>44881837
>"Call for backup."
>"Get me to a damn mechanic..."
>>
>>44881874

You tell Russo you'll need to go into low power until you can get work done on your arm. She seems to understand, and runs off to find backup. She wouldn't be able to move you either way.

As you shut off all non-critical processes, and the world fades out, you wonder how bad you'll get chewed out for losing an arm, and possibly a pistol on this case.

When you come to, you're in a familiar spot. You cant move your body, as you are held down by hydraulic arms, and the room is dark with the exception of a bright light just above you, shining down directly at your face. You turn your head, but don't see anyone around. You are forced to stare into the light helplessly until you hear a door open out of sight, followed by footsteps. You try to find the source, and eventually someone comes into view.

A human in a nice looking suit, smoking a cigar as he looks you over. He seems pretty smug, so you can be sure he's not here to tell you about your medal for bravery in the line of duty.

"Morning, Detective. Welcome to my place of business. No names, please. You won't be here long enough for it to matter."

>"So what? You some kind of bad guy?"
>"Let me off this table, and maybe I won't crack your head like an egg."
>"Let's talk this out, pal, I don't want any trouble."
>Other
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>>44882381
>"So what? You some kind of bad guy?"

I like the Bond set up you have me in here.
>>
>>44882381
>"So what? You some kind of bad guy?"
>what can you smell or otherwise sense? Record this for future information.
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>>44882381
>"So what? You some kind of bad guy?"
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>>44882381
>"I'm guessing you're not backup."
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>>44882438
>"So what? You some kind of bad guy?"

You try to keep him busy while you take in your surroundings. There's oil in this room, probably spilled since it smells so strong. Metal too, though that's obvious. No blood, or at least not anytime in the recent past. There's also a bit of alcohol in the air, but for what purpose you can't really be certain.

"Bad is subjective, isn't it? I'm just trying to make it in this cutthroat business world. I deal in used automobiles and personal assistants, mostly. Those boys you tore at our old place were some of my favorites. One of them heard a tip while he was keeping an ear to the ground at the Rivet Club. Two cops coming to stick their noses where they don't belong. We barely had enough time to clean up and ship out to our backup spot. Unfortunately, the boys we left behind to greet our guests didn't make it. We couldn't even recover their memories. So tell me, officer. Were you alone in there?" You can't believe he'd really try to scare you into talking. Still, he can't be too dumb, since he caught you.

>"My partner is getting backup now. You're on a timer."
>"Yeah, sadly. What's it to you?"
>"Come a little closer and I'll whisper it to you."
>Other
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>>44882747
>"There were 83 of us and four tanks. Oh and Johnny had a rocket launcher."
>>
>>44882747
>Other

I'm going to be honest, do I have any incentive to answer that question?
>>
>>44882747
>"Yeah, sadly. What's it to you?"

> he can't be too dumb, since he caught you.
Hey, not our fault our new weapon blew up in our hand for no apparent reason whatsoever!
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>>44882747
"Yes, your mom was there, kidding but no i was backed up by god."
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>>44882793

He doesn't seem amused, but it cheered you up a little. You watch as he comes a bit closer, examining you through the smoke of his cigar.

"Not made. An M series, too. If we scrambled your noggin, we could push you to any decent buyer in town. Hell, we could probably ship you overseas. You'll fit together with just about any firepower on the market. What do you think you're worth? One-hundred grand? Two-hundred? Your arms busted off, but that's not too hard to swap out."

Just then, there is a chirping. You realize it's your phone, buried somewhere in your pockets. The cigar man reaches in, and slides it out. No doubt it's Russo. He seems to think about what to do, and comes to a conclusion that makes him grin so wide you wonder if you'll see the slime pour out of his mouth.

"I'm gonna accept this call, and you're gonna tell whoever is on the other end you're fine, and that you managed to dial a mechanic. Then you're gonna say you've gotta go. Alright? Simple." He slides his thumb across the screen, and holds the phone out to your head.

"Sir?" Russo's voice is slightly distorted by the signal. "Are you alright? You're not where I left you."

>"I'm fine, Russo. I'll call you back in a minute."
>"I called a Doc. Can't chat now, see you later."
>"Some sausage in a suit grabbed me. Has me in his sex dungeon."
>Try to code a message (50%)
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>>44883015
>try to code a message
>>
>>44883015
>Try to code a message (50%)
Want us to roll for it?
>>
>>44883015
>Try to code a message (50%)
"Sorry for letting you down, Sergant Russo. I called the office and Lieutenant Khorne picked me up and got me to a mechanic. I'll be fine unless they fuck up the repairs. The mechanic's saying I have to kill the call, say hi to the kids." Hang up

Of course, Khorne tried to blow Russo's brain out earlier so it should ring some bells.
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>44883381
>>
>>44883424
Is it roll over, or under? There's a question!
>>
>>44883424

He pulls the phone away from you suddenly, cancelling the call. Seems he caught on at some point, but you can't be certain where exactly. At any rate, he's smashing you in the head with your own phone now, which is annoying, especially because you had a lot of music on it.

"You piece of fucking trash! Try to pull one over one me!? Fine! George, get in here!" He rubs his temple as the door opens again, and heavier footsteps approach. You try to get a good look as another man comes in, carrying a drill. You can't help but feel nervous as he checks the battery and the drillhead, never once looking in your direction.

"Mix him up. We can't push a Con with two cents to rub together in his head. Once we dump the memories, we'll swap his core out for a fresh one and see what we can do about shipping him." You watch the cigar man leave, as his buddy George approaches you. This might be it. George says something in another language, maybe Italian, you have no clue. Then he spins up the drill, and slowly begins pressing it to your head.

You feel the tip grind against your skull, then slowly begin to penetrate. It bores deeper by the second, and you feel a sharp pain, as your core blasts out a warning signal. The sound alone, a whining, grinding screech, is almost enough to drive you crazy. Right as the drill comes near your inner wall, it stops, and snaps out of the turning mechanism. George's hand is tossed away, as the drillhead juts out of you like a growth. He scoffs, and goes back to the toolbody to look for something. He comes back with a pair of pliers, and tries to yank the thing out, but it won't budge. When he finally gives up, he stomps out, probably to find something else to fetch his damn tool.

You've got limited time.

>Struggle against the arms holding you
>Yell for help
>Feel around for something on your pockets
>Other
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>>44883673
>Feel around for something on your pockets
>>
>>44883673
>Feel around for something on your pockets
>>
>>44883673
Also, though modding has gone badly for us in the past, I suggest we see if we can move our core out of our head and into our chest cavity, if at all possible. It's easier to avoid getting shot in the brain that way.
>>
>>44883704
>Feel around for something on your pockets

You use your remaining hand to fish around in your pocket. The only thing there is your keychain. That does remind you of something though. Your arm was blown off, and the wires weren't grounded. You look down at your right arm, and sure enough they seem to have secured your loose bits for safety. But that wouldn't stop the leak in your power core, so you must be plugged in. This gives you a very bad idea. You use your keys to tap on the table, and confirm that it's made of steel. You've got everything you need, you hope.

George comes back with a steel mallet. You look up at him, and give him your best angry voice. You call him a jackass, and tell him he missed your memory core and his your limb processor. To show it, you wiggle your leg, and while doing so, scrape the table with your key. This simulates a malfunction in your hip joints. When he looks over curiously, you tell him to at least crack you open and disconnect power to your legs, or risk hurting someone when they release you and try to carry you somewhere else. The fucking rube falls for it.

He opens your chest, exposing your insides, and looks at your power core. You thank heaven Ella is such a damn fanatic, because as soon as he reaches in to find the hip connection, the blown wires from the tickler, connected directly to your power core instead of a separate battery, and which had not been grounded by them because of it, zaps him with a charge so harsh you swear you see the guys bones for a second.

He clings to the wire, unable to relax the muscles in his forearm, and knocks himself out. When he finally collapses, you smell burning hair and skin. You are safe, thanks to Ella being a maniac with a fetish for hardware.

It was only a matter of time before the big man himself returned. When he did, he found a dead man and a Con in low-power with a drill sticking out of his head.

Cont.
>>
>>44884211
The cigar man had you unplugged, and lifted up to be tossed onto a dolley for transport. Fortunately, your alarm went off as planned, and you woke up not long after. You rose from the trolley, to the utter shock of the Cons moving you. Seems they weren't given any orders in this scenario.

>Take them down
>Get out quick
>Other
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>>44884282
>>>Take them down
>>
>>44884282
>Take them down
>>
>>44884282
>Other
>Lie through your teeth. "Police force. All of you have been contaminated with highly radioactive materials from my core. You need to get away from your owner as far as possible right now or you'll poison and kill him.
>>
>>44884361

Yeah I want to see how that works
>>
>>44884361
This
>>
>>44884361

The Cons nod, and lead you unwittingly to the exit, a service elevator. The three of you ride it up, and emerge right outside a small aircraft hangar. As the two Cons wander off, you enter the hangar, and spy a fleet of half-dismantled cars, machinery, crates, and tools. If you still had two hands, you'd rub them together.

You wander around for a bit before finding a payphone. The entire field seems empty, and not anywhere near the city. You pick up the receiver, and dial the precinct. Russo is elated to hear from you, and you get a truck to come peel you off the road, right as you collapse into the dirt from low power.
>>
>>44884627
Hooray! We're not lobotomised!
Did we catch the number plate of that forklift?
>>
>>44884627
You come to your senses that night, plugged in and seated in a familiar chair. This time, there is no blinding light. Instead, there is some sort of ear shredding, high pitched, music playing. You call out, and the music stops. Then, footsteps and breathing.

"Morning detective. It's me, Davis." You can't see anything. It's all dark. You can't smell either, for that matter. "Don't be alarmed, you're home. We plugged you in, since none of us actually know how to work on a sentient Con without hurting you. We've sent for your mechanic, Ella Dubois. We found her business card in your wallet! She'll get here soon, so in the meantime, just enjoy some music with me." Davis moves away again, and begins playing the music. It just about drives you up the wall.

>Ask Davis to be quiet for now
>Go back into low-power
>Ask about Russo
>Other
>>
>>44884770
>Ask about Russo
>>
>>44884770
>Ask about Russo
>>
>>44884770
>Ask about Russo
>>
>>44884770
>Ask about Russo
>Yeeees, Ella.
>I have an internal frame to pick with her
>>
>>44884798
>>Ask about Russo

"Russo? She's fine. Says she's getting tired of having to pull your weight every time you take sick, though. I'm sure she was joking."

There is a sudden and violent knocking. Davis pauses the music again, and moves away. A door opens, and then all hell breaks loose.

"Where is he! Where's my darlin'!" That's be Ella, you suppose. She stamps over in a rush, and you can hear how harsh her breathing is. "Oh, god! What have done to ya!?"

"Ma'am, please, be careful of his core."

"You shut yer pig mouth! Can't you see he's in pain!? What in the hell do ya got him on full power for! Shhh, don't worry baby, Ella's gonna make it stop. Got my tools n everythang." You do indeed hear a zipper, followed by metal clinking and shuffling cloth. You try to speak again, but your Vox seems to have suddenly failed. Even better.

"Don't speak, sweetheart. I gotcha." You feel brutal pain as Ella begins ripping you apart and putting you back together in your chair. You cant help but move in response, but your connections are severed so fast you can do little more than shiver as she works. It takes her what feels like hours to finally reestablish connection to your sensors, bringing the visual world to life.

You focus, and see both Ella and Davis. Ella is in pajama pants and a hooded sweatshirt, meaning this might have actually been her day off. Davis is in his normal uniform, but grimacing uncharacteristically. Ella makes a few adjustments to your inside, then wipes her glistening forehead and sighs.

"Yer stable now, darlin'. But these repairs are gonna take a while. You let em shred you pretty bad. Oh my poor, babe. Don't you worry, I'll be here all night and all mornin', until you're all better." She leans in and plants a kiss in your face.

>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."
>"I appreciate it."
>"Good, this whole mess is your fault."
>Other
>>
>>44885090
>>>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."
>>
>>44885090
>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."
>>
>>44885090
>"I appreciate it."
>>
>>44885090
>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."
Jeez. I'm somewhat worried that our arm blew up, though. Can we at least mention that?
>>
>>44885090
>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."
>>
>>44885114
>"Thanks, but you look beat. Get some rest and come back."

Ella smiles at you, so warmly that you feel like you might actually find a way to blush.

"I'm not leavin you for a second, and that's all I have to say bout that! Your arm went and blew all cuz I forgot to install the regulator, yer pretty lil partner told me all about it. Hey, whatsyername!" Ella looks over to Davis, who is badly startled to suddenly be thrust into the conversation. "Don't jes stand there! Go to my shop and pick up the parts ah need! I'll call ahead and tell my girl to pack em up before you get there."

"Ma'am, I actually have duties I need to get back to."

"Ain't nothin' more important than a life! Jes cuz he's a Con means you can leave him half dead and strugglin' to hold on here?!"

"N-n-no! No, Ma'am! I'll be back shortly!" And with that, Davis is gone. You watch him go, but Ella gently places her hand on the side of your head and turns it back to see her.

"Good, we're alone. I'm awful sorry I messed up, babe. Can I make it up to ya?" She is uncomfortably close.

>"You can quit foggin up my lamps."
>"Just patch me up so I can get back to work."
>"I know you didn't mean it, don't beat yourself up."
>Other
>>
>>44885322

>I know you didn't mean it, duty calls though, I need to go track down the guy who fucked up your repair job and for that I need a working body
>>
>>44885322
>"I know you didn't mean it, don't beat yourself up."
>>
>>44885322
>"I know you didn't mean it, don't beat yourself up."
"But if you could work out all my kinks it'd be mighty fine of you.
>>
>>44885322
>"I know you didn't mean it, don't beat yourself up."
>>
>>44885410
>"I know you didn't mean it, don't beat yourself up."

Ella sighs and presses her forehead against your chin. She holds that pose for a little while. When she finally does back off, she says nothing, and goes right back to work on your insides.

"I can't replace the arm yet, but I can patch the connections. I'll replace the Tickler too, but this time I'll quadruple check all the bits and pieces. I'll need to fix that hole in yer skull too." You say nothing, and Ella begins her repairs. Davis comes back within a couple of hours with the parts, and Ella is able to fix you up good as new. Sure, your finish is scuffed, but it makes you feel tough.

By the time Ella finishes, it's already past 3am. She slumps onto the sofa, and yawns. Davis is long gone, but she held true to her word, refusing to rest a moment until you were up to full speed. You bring her some water, lacking any sort of human drink. She smiles and sips happily.

"Sorry, darlin. I'll get outta yer hair, you probly wanna rest."

>"You're half asleep. Just crash here."
>"I'll drive you home."
>"Let me call you a cab, please."
>Other
>>
>>44885653
>"You're half asleep. Just crash here."
>>
>>44885653
>"You're half asleep. Just crash here."
>>
>>44885653
>>"You're half asleep. Just crash here."
>>
>>44885676
>"You're half asleep. Just crash here."

Ella seems delighted to receive the offer. She kicks off her sneakers, revealing bare feet, and curls up into a ball on the sofa. You don't have any blankets, so instead you just turn the heat up to a warm temperature, and sit back on your power station. You go into low-power just as Ella seems to begin snoring.

The next morning, you wake up and notice your chest is sealed up again, and Ella's things are gone. It seems she woke up early, finished the work, and left to go home. You get up yourself, and begin preparing for work. You check your face to be safe, and sure enough there is a lipstick mark that you have to wipe away before leaving.

When you arrive, Russo greets you at the desk. After making sure you're alright, she teases you a bit, but clearly tries not to overstep her bounds. She must feel somewhat responsible for your damage. You soothe her, and go back to your casework.

Around lunch, you find yourself alone in the break room, watching telenovelas. Something about a doctor crying over a woman, it seems. You're surprised to see Davis enter just near the end of your break, but not as surprised when he excitedly sits down beside you.

"Detective, I have a serious question for you. Will you answer?"

>"Sorry Davis, I'm not into any of the things you are."
>"Shoot."
>"Depends on how serious we're talking."
>>
I can't help but feel paranoid that Ella is actually out to get us.

It's hard to justify because it's really obvious if she had sabotaged it that she'd have been the one to have got us killed, but that explosion really did a number on us.

If anything else acts up, we should really take note. Twice would be no accident, or a really really terrible con-engineer.
>>
>>44886000
>"Depends on how serious we're talking."
>>
>>44886000
>"Shoot."
>Not literally, please, though. I've been patched up enough to last for weeks.
>>
>>44886000
>"Shoot."
>"Depends on how serious we're talking."
>>
>>44886098
>"Shoot."
>"Depends on how serious we're talking."

Davis lights up, and pulls his phone out of his coat pocket. He brings the screen on, and takes a breath.

"Detective, you've been around. You've seen a lot of things people would see as... strange. Do you think that two people from different worlds can connect with each other? Like, say, just for example, not that I'm suggesting it but, maybe a human and a Con?"

You're only mildly surprised. You recall the cases you've worked so far, as well as your past, before you woke up.

>"Maybe, but it never ends well."
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>"I doubt it, Davis. Just ain't enough in common."
>Other
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
>...Look, are you trying to hook Russo and me up? I don't date partners.
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
It's a step up considering both are sapient.
>>
>>44886182
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."
"You know the old saying, Life finds a way."
>>
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127 KB
127 KB JPG
>>44886272
>>
>>44886262
>"Sure. Life is wacky like that."

Davis smiles.

"Alright then, I'll show you something. I've been saving up for a long time, even refusing to eat lunch just to scrape together all the money I need. Here." Davis slides you his phone. you pick it up and see that the browser is open, and set on a store page for some foreign website. The English is awful, but you can sort of make out that it's selling custom built Cons. The one displayed on this page looks almost too human. That is, with some exceptions. The fingers are clearly jointed, as are the elbows, knees and toes. The eyes are also a bit dim, almost like a doll, and yet you can't help but feel like they're looking right at you. The price is steep, probably half of Davis' salary. Finally, there is a date in the corner, about six months from now. You pass the phone back, confused.

"She's the newest model. They released a brand new synth skin that feels identical to humans, even when cold. I know it sounds strange, detective, but I really think this is what I've been waiting for. Do... do you think I should go through with it? I'll have to prepare everything first, but..."

You aren't sure how to feel. If Davis orders this thing, it's just another Con. No sentience. It can tell him what he wants to hear, but will it really feel anything? And is this even healthy?

>"It's your money, Davis. Whatever floats you boat."
>"I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, it's a doll, Davis."
>"You creep me the hell out, Davis."
>Other
>>
>>44886470
Whoops, forgot trip
>>
>>44886470
>"I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, it's a doll, Davis."
but
>>"It's your money, Davis. Whatever floats you boat."
>>
>>44886470
>"It's your money, Davis. Whatever floats you boat."
>>
>>44886470
>other
>"Sure, but don't expect a relationship. It's just another appliance."
>>
>>44886470

>Other

Hey man, I can't tell you how to spend your money or live your life. You know she wont be like me though right? Just programming.
>>
>>44886470

>Other

"Davis...[sigh.wav]...look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. I don't think there's anything wrong with what you're suggesting, but have you considered the imbalance in that relationship? The likelihood that she's non-sentient?

You're literally /buying/ this Con. If it makes you happy, go for it. But I don't think that this is what you're really looking for. Keep looking, Davis, and you'll find it."
>>
>>44886470
>"It's your money, Davis. Whatever floats you boat."
>"You creep me the hell out, Davis."
Then again my mechanic is apparently a massive technophile so can't really scold you. The non-sentient thing is weird though.
>>
>>44886470
>"It's your money, Davis. Whatever floats you boat."
>"I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, it's a doll, Davis."
"She ain't sapient Davis. It's like falling in love with a pet. Real love is made by choices, not programming"
>>
>>44886537
This one is arguably the safest answer.
>>
>>44886537
I'll second this. Third it, really.
>Hey, some people really love their cars, too.
>...Don't get any funny ideas about sticking my body in one of those things, though.
>>
>>44886537
>>Other
>Hey man, I can't tell you how to spend your money or live your life. You know she wont be like me though right? Just programming.

You try to soften the blow while delivering the honest truth. Davis seems a bit hurt, but also grateful to hear what you really think. He stares at his phone screen for a minute, before saying anything.

"I understand what you're saying. And I think I always felt the same. But I'd still like to order her. For company, at least. And maybe, if I'm lucky, she'll be like you. Sentient, I mean. Maybe I can teach her to think like a real person. Then, she could make her own choice. I wouldn't stop her if she did." Davis continues to watch his screen. You have no clue what makes a Con wake up. Some say it's a bug. Some say it's the way you teach them. But for any Con you ask, they just came to one day, and suddenly the world was real to them. So, for all you know, Davis could teach this thing to think for itself.

Davis thanks you for your help, and goes back to his counter without eating lunch. You decide to get back to it yourself, and make for your desk. On the way back though, you run into Russo. She holds up her phone, red faced, and tells you you've got a message from Ella.

"Hey qt! Wanna check on you later, can I come by? I'll bring a movie!" This is of course followed by a love heart.

>Tell Russo to decline
>Tell Russo to accept
>Tell Russo to delete the message
>>
>>44886785
>Tell Russo to accept
>>
>>44886785
>Tell Russo to accept
First rule of surviving as a Con: Don't piss off your mechanic.
>>
>>44886785
>>Tell Russo to accept
>>Ask Russo if she would like to join us for the movie.
>>
>>44886847

Second.
>>
>>44886847
>>Tell Russo to accept
You tell Russo to accept for you. She does, with a simple ok.

"Sir, I'd really appreciate it if you bought a new phone. Having me act as your messenger is highly inappropriate in a professional workplace."
>>
>>44887015
Sorry, but I'm gonna wrap early because I'm pretty beat. Probably won't be a thread tomorrow, but I'll be back soonish. If you want to know for sure, check the twitter

Thanks to everyone who came by, I really appreciate everyone who participates. I hope you all had a good laugh or two, and I hope you come back for the next one!
>>
>>44887040
Thanks for running and I'm looking forward to our next mission.
>>
>>44887040

Can you repost the twitter link, please?
>>
>>44887040
This is hardly the grim noir adventure that I was expecting!
Silly cop comedy and workplace romance is fine too.
Thanks for running! I'll archive the thread if no-one has already!
>>
>>44887102
https://twitter.com/Rags2Riches_QM



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