This is a private role play between Mekatra and Worm.
Feel free to lurk, but no posting without permission.
Possibility for mature content.

Seven was covered in blood. It trickled down his arm and pooled onto his table. His other arm was propped up, holding a laser pen and scrawling into his other. It was time for an upgrade. He bit down on an old t-shirt, so used to the pain of these upgrades, that he rarely needed any anesthetic. The arm performing the surgery was completely robotic. This was his first installment. It was due to a military injury, which shoved him out of the front lines. Luckily military soldiers were the first to receive these upgrades, free of charge. He'd always had interest in cybernetics, but it wasn't until he started tweaking his own parts, that he discovered an innate talent with them.

He zoomed in now with his goggles, focusing on a single wire that ran down near his wrist. The blood in that area was especially thick. He sealed the vein shut with a simple run of his pen. The blood slowly stopped. His face was a bright white, when it would normally be a soft olive color. With one final move, he was able to reattach a new wire and his new software was installed. He wiped his forehead with the free, metal arm, not making much of a difference. "There." He said to himself. He pulled a flap of metal from the other side of the exposed musculature and robotics and sealed it over. He had to scale off some extra skin to make sure it fit properly.

When it closed, he took a deep breath, pressed one of the buttons on the top side of his arm and the music in his ears stopped. That meant it worked. He smiled, leaning back in his chair. The blood on his table would be cleaned up by his helper bot, as per usual in his cybernetics shop. It was dark outside now, which meant the shop was closed to walk-ins. With no appointments, it meant it was his own upgrade time. He stood, legs wobbly from blood loss and found himself a big bottle of whiskey and took a swig. The sting of alcohol helped numb the pulsating, radiating pain in his arm.

Seven had just finished off the bottle in his hand, so decided to chuck it towards the recycling compactor. He let out a harsh groan only to be interrupted by the violent opening of doors. He was instantly reminded of the outside world, sirens and harsh rain falling in the background. A flash of lightning lit up behind his newcomer, a penumbra around their cloaked form. The stench coming off of them stung into Seven's memory, causing his heart to patter so quickly it felt like it was going to explode. He clenched his chest and took a seat. As they came to their feet, Seven's eyebrows shadowed skeptical, brown eyes.

The gleam of metal on the intruder's skin was clearly military grade. He gulped, realizing that there might be no option but to harbor this machine. While he was equipped with some illegal weaponry, it might not be able to compete with a sleek new model like this one. Though its shell seemed damaged and dingy. "Close the door behind you. Come in." Normally he would spit and shoo away anybody intruding in his space past business hours. And it was hard for him to even invite the robot inside, but he did so out of intimidation. Though, he did his best not to show it.

"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?" Seven snarled, a sharp tooth hanging on his lip. If the machine wanted a fight, then he would give them one. Not to say that he would win.

Hal sniffed, brushing under his nose with the remainder of flesh on his arm. Then he stood, now looming over the metal creation with the sound of the door shutting resonating in the background. So, he was in the same boat as Seven, eh? It wouldn't be so bad to have a highly weaponized machine to his assistance. It was only fair to ask the robot to protect him as well in exchange, right? "Good. I don't need any of those pigs in my home either. You keep your mouth shut, and I'll do the same." He gave a serrated grin.

"Call me Seven, Mister Engel." Seven's eyes darted to the closet adjacent to him. The sound of his cleaning bot startled him. The closet door swung open right at the strike of midnight. The little motorized vacuum hovered over its programmed area, picking up debris, and sanitizing his work station. It also collected hazardous material and made sure to dispose of it safely. It was a simple machine, but Seven was happy to upgrade it constantly also. Machines were his specialty. He extended a hand to finally greet the guest, distracted by the movement of his cleaner. "Its a pleasure to have you here. Just know that if you ever double cross me, I'll have your brains rewired and deactivate you in a heartbeat." He snarled, gripping the robot's hand throughout his threat, making sure to make direct eye contact with its lenses. When he was finished, he released his grip with a sigh of relief.


"Otherwise, make yourself at home."

Seven patted Engel on its sturdy, metal back. "Good lad!" He said in response. This was why he preferred machine to man, machines were subservient. As the cleaning bot made its rounds around his station, it bumped into Engel's foot once, having to change its direction. It probably wasn't used to having another being in the vicinity. "Yeah, I guess I am!" Seven mentioned with pride. It felt good to be a creator around machines. His smile softened as he met Engel's mirrored eyes. "Now, who created you?" His eyebrow perked at the question, wondering if the information would change his perception of the well crafted machine.

Seven's interest was piqued. He crossed his arms, listening to the robot spill classified information. He'd heard about the Titan soldiers, but never had the chance to work with any. He was actually part of the design team. But it seemed that the result was a little different than the initial designs. It was the name Dalica Kastos, that made his blood boil. His fists clenched, remembering the domineering energy of Kastos. They had a vision, and didn't intend to have anybody change that. Hence why this machine was so different from the designs. From the amount of facial variability, he had to think that Engel blurred the line of legality. "Kastos." Was all he managed to say in response to Engel's dark story. He had to wonder what was going on before she died. Usually, engineers were not left alone to test the machines. Something struck him as incredibly fishy. His instincts were telling him to get away from the machine and the possible incarceration that might occur from him tampering with him. However, he did know how to fix Engel...

He sighed, watching the shoulder motor grind and stop at a certain point. "Its a simple fix, really." While he couldn't manage a smile, he still felt a bit of compassion towards the machine. After all, it didn't choose the path of its creator. He walked behind Engel and tapped on the plate of metal which acted as a sort of shoulder blade, usually there was an opening on either side. He sniffed and pulled away, digging into his pocket for a cigarette. With the other hand, he lit it. He took a long drag, smoke pluming around the robot's frame. "I'll have to grab my old tool set." His military issued set was largely untouched these days. Most of his personal machines were not military grade and didn't require fancy tools to unlock and update. He liked to keep them simple, even though he had the ability to make much more complex machines.

He wandered towards his basement, first opening a side door to a lift. He gestured for Engel to follow him. The lift would have just enough space for the two of them, arms extended. It would glide slowly to the basement floor and the door would open to an array of lights flickering on to each corner of vision.

Seven struggled to understand why the machine was so receptive to his emotions. Most machines would not pick up on the lilt of his voice. After all, all he did was mention the creator's name. He said nothing about his feelings for her. Yet somehow, Engel knew. He scowled, a bit overwhelmed with what he was getting himself into. "I wouldn't say I disliked her. We didn't work well together." He shoved down repressed memories deep into his gut. He must've blacked out for a moment, because they were in the basement now. He looked down at his still fresh arm upgrade wound and recalled Engel's mention of the Halifax protocol. Everything in his body boiled, his hair rose, his eyes widened. This was not good at all!

"Your Halifax protocol?"He could feel the air being sucked from his lungs, he whipped his hands to his head, stringing through short, brown hair. It all made sense now... In alarm, Seven grabbed his pistol and held it close to him. They were after him weren't they? This was all planned. His thoughts were winding deeper into paranoia as he looked the machine up and down. He felt a lump in his throat. "What was her intention in doing this?" He kept the pistol moving with his hand gestures, still drunk on panic. The basement lights were florescent, blinking on in sets behind the robot. Underneath the groups of lights were tables with various projects on them. Every inch of the walls were covered in tools, weapons, scrap or some sort of metal. "I do have the file on all of my machines, there might be a way for me to transfer it back onto your hard drive." He kept his distance from the military grade mechanized weapon.

The way that Engel responded to Seven’s brash, programmed responses was undeniably human. It was strange to say the least. In some ways it made Seven even more intimidated by the machine. He perked an eyebrow, the pistol hanging loosely from his hands. So if I mess with his coding, he is programmed to react? He wondered just how much of Engel’s program was self-learned. If Kastos had managed to program this level of intelligence, he had to wonder what she was trying to attain and how much she’d already accomplished.
”Sounds like a deal. Give me the code. And I’ll fix your jacked shoulder.” He shrugged, placing the pistol on a metal dissection table. ”Would you let me try this code, make sure it works?” He grinned. Though his intentions were initially sparked from fear, he now began to question if he could mess around Engel’s mainframe while he was shut down.

Seven snatched the card from Engel's hand, taking an extra amount of time to read and re-read the code. It was most definitely Kastos' handwriting. It took him back to his time working with her and the notes she would scrawl across his blueprints. She was a genius. And it showed more and more as this machine spoke. Seven felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. Was sympathy for a machine necessary, or logical at all? Either way, he tucked the card into his pocket, unsure if Engel would want it back.

"I don't want you to lose your memories either." Seven sighed, shaking his head. He started to regret his threats. After all, if he erased anything, or modified anything, what would he be losing? He hadn't the slightest idea as to what the machine was capable of. And this terrified him, but he felt a little better with the machine's shut down code. He turned to a nearby table, sifting through his company toolbox and selecting a model repair tool by pressing a button on the screen. After making his selection, he put in his pin and a drawer raised from the table to reveal the tools. "Alright, take a seat." He nodded, gesturing for the machine to find his way onto the table by patting on the cold metal surface. "That shoulder must be bothersome." A softness in his voice was exposed in a way that rarely showed.

Seven scoffed. Of course she cried over a robot. It was so hard to imagine Kastos without her hard shell of a personality. Of course she would crack via her own creation. "Well, you could definitely say that being human is a burden." He peeled open the plate on the back of Engel's shoulder with a satisfying pop.

"Not that you're... human." He sniffed, looking into the mash of gears that made up Engel's shoulder. "I suppose if she gave you any sort of morals, emotions, or free thought - its basically a curse. So I can understand why she'd be upset about doing that to you. My question is why she'd want that in the first place..." He pulled out a specific screw head and turned a knob under his plate, it spun a gear which moved Engel's arm forward without his control.

"Yeah, its a simple fix actually. Just have to restring your gears, and you're a little low on lubricant." He squinted, peering deeper into the matrix of his machinery. "What caused this injury?" He realized that it took a lot of impact to shove Engel's gears so out of place.

Seven remained mostly silent, besides the occasional puff of a cigarette. Then he said - "More stimuli..." He sucked in the words, examining them. He finished up Engel's shoulder after a few sparks and the bvvvv of the power drill and soldering. He had to wonder if Kastos' lab assistant was Soot. Soot worked closely with Seven on Kastos' original engineering team. But of course, Kastos probably managed many others after them.

The truth was that Soot had been tracking loose cannons like Engel all over the map now. She'd helped disable a few in the past, but now there were so many and some were learning how to hide. Kastos was still producing machines somewhere, hidden even to the FBI. But Soot was doing her best to figure it out. Her arm was taken out by a malfunctioning robot, along with a chunk of her torso. Both areas were replaced with metal skin and robotics. Her parts were onyx colored, perhaps to match her nickname.

Short, red hair whipped around her face as she waited outside. Her ear was to the ground through a microphone. She was sure that there was illegal machinery nearby. Working for Kastos had taught her many things, including the unique frequency to which her machines vibrated. It was tough to catch, but they generally also had a pattern so she could tell how far away they were and how well they were functioning. She sat inside of a hovering bus, reading the script feeding onto her screen. "13777" She muttered. Two figured beside her nodded and opened the back door without speaking. Soot remained at her post as they both left, fully loaded.

Seven closed up Engel's shoulder, the sound of it sealing quite satisfying. "Now that we're finished, I'll find you a place to stay... For the time being." He began walking through the isles of half built machines and chimera weapons. "There's a charging station back here." He pointed to the left corner of the warehouse of a basement. "And these tables sink down a little bit if you want to lay down." He patted on a table, the metal echoing through the basement. "Not sure how human she tried to make you, but if ye need blankets or a pillow, I s'pose I can figure something out." He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his hairs raise.

For some reason, he felt like someone was watching them.