Cold, hard, concrete. The occasional lance like claw of rebar that reached from the claustrophobic walls that were the crowning achievement for the underbelly of outpost 3. A vein like tunnel system for the outpost that stayed practically unused for most of the mechanical inhabitants, save a few. Of course robo-roaches made their homes down here, the occasional small infestation of them thriving down in the dark and slinking up to the surface levels when they needed to pick on metal scraps. Occasionally a WDF member would be stationed at the only known entrance to this maze, or one at the spare parts room that counted as a graveyard for the drone populace in here. No worker drone dared walk the convoluted pitch black halls beneath the city, except for the body that owned the pair of piercing red eyes. Said eyes taking a second to glance down at a passing family or robo-roaches before stepping over them. Lazily but pointedly wandering the halls below until it came across exactly what it was looking for.
A galvanized steel grate in the roof, technically it was the floor of the hospital room above but it was the roof to the drone below it. The grate was small yet worker drones were small of themselves so it would be no problem to fit through. Even if there were... Other ways of getting to places that were beyond a normal worker. A normal worker that would most likely be asleep at this late time unlike Yeva, the red eyed mother having slunk out to acquire more oil to continue her day to day life without boiling over. the russian having chosen to ditch the bear onesie she usually wore for something else on this lonely trip out, said attire consisting of murky red leg warmers that fit snuggly, a plain black sleeveless dress and a sticker decorated tote bag that was slung lazily over her shoulder.
Yeva put her foot onto one of the rebar poles that had been purposefully shifted in the wall, forming a set of basic steps up to the grate. It held, they all would but sometimes double checking was worth it. After that she scaled the wall, using the steps to help her up as the inky blackness of the halls clung to her black dress. Once she got to the top she crouched between two rebar steps and flicked out her hand. Red light flaring from it in a triangular symbol before the grate simply shrunk to about the size of a small toy car. Failing to clink as it fell into Yeva's white gloved hands, gloves worn precisely to avoid said noise from occurring and almost revealing her presence like last time she had done this. Yeva then popped her head out of the hole, checking briefly around the hospital room for anything that could slip her scheme up.
The walls were their normal plain white, floor tiled as usual, blue sliding door closed, the table sized metal cylinder still huddled away in a corner. Only new thing was the body in the medical bed and the brunete wig and hat that sat on the desk, a small machine beeping next to the sleeping drone that was almost completely hidden away behind a curtain. A green light on the machine occasionally illuminating the words OIL TRANSFUSION DEVICE, or STABLE CONDITION before going blank again for but a second. The most interesting thing to Yeva however, was the small notepad that had been left on the edge of a small blue table, notepad almost hanging off it until it made its way towards the grate via the red solver symbol that carried it. The object being joined a few seconds later by her now full canteen of oil that was seized from within the metal barrel that held it. Extremely poorly stored hospital spares, far from the tastiest but one of the easiest ways to acquire the lifeblood Yeva had been cursed with consuming. Something she apparently had in common with the oh so often mentioned sky demons as she briefly saw with that one that her daughter had somehow befriended.
The girl teleported back down to the floor of the tunnel below her and replaced the grate back where it was supposed to be, as well as closing the barrel's lid, then sat on the floor and began to read the notepad. Holding it between her knees and using light produced from her free hand to do so, sipping on her flask of cold oil somewhat hastily. A single robo-roach crawled up to her, halting at her bare metal foot for a second whilst Yeva paid it no attention. She flipped through the first few pages and noted their blandness, however the fourth page held what she was looking for. An explanation mainly.
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Soft Reboot (Murder Drones Soft Reboot. Part 1)
Fanfiction- When Doll leaves the colony to deal with its pesky murder drone problem once and for all, obviously. Very obviously this is a fanfic site for gods sake. She ends up forming a connection to one particular drone, as well as realizing that it seems t...
