Statement: you're an idiot.

[redarmorhunter]

Statement: Really, mundane? It took you all this time to pick me back up again? I've been languishing in your head with all those meatbags! They are not pleasant company. Or adequate company.

Or even company I can shoot at.

But, well, I suppose I should give your organic brain some credit for actually doing something. Now, I will speak down to you as if you are a small child: find me something to do, or I will protest most vigorously in the special ways that only I can.

Comments

[needtobecleaned]

For some reason, my mundane desires that you define the term 'love'.

[redarmorhunter]

Statement: Oh, very well. But only because you're impressive looking. Please don't tell me you're just an organic in armor. It would disappoint me gravely.

'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope.

Statement: This definition, I am told, is subject to interpretation. Obviously, love is a matter of odds. Not many meatbags could make such a shot, and fewer would derive love from it. Yet for me, love is knowing your target, putting them in your targeting reticle, and together, achieving a singular purpose, against statistically long odds.

[needtobecleaned]

[Ouch, her mun's squealing and giggling DX]

I am not organic, I am an android.

[And armed to the freakin' teeth.]

And she is incredibly pleased, and thankful, since her xbox will not function currently and she's unable to review your canon.

[redarmorhunter]

[A tiny electronic crush may just be forming]

Statement: Elegant, yet able to pass as an organic. There is some grace to your form.

[He'll be moving closer to scan at point-blank range]

Query: What is your designation and function?

[Because, now, the muns just don't matter]

[needtobecleaned]

[Aww, how sweet.]

I believe it is because humans would feel more comfortable with something that appeared human, protecting them.

[Scan away. He'll be able to detect millions of highly advanced nanomachines as part of her form.]

My name is KOS-MOS, a combat android built to annihilate the Gnosis.

[There's another purpose but that's not important.]

[redarmorhunter]

Statement: Humans. Can't kill all of them, can't operate independently without them.

[He takes a moment to...honestly just savour those scans. As Walter Matthau might say, holy moley.]

And I am HK-47, finest hunter/killer and assassin droid - also translator - this side of the galaxy. Of many galaxies. [Is...is he bragging?]

Query: Need any help with that? I enjoy wanton violence, and am currently between assignments.

[Translation: want a violent robot date?]

[herewegoto]

Meatbags.

[redarmorhunter]

Gratitude: Thank you, someone who understands.