shitposting rave 4: (almost) anything goes

Oh yes, very. Hm! Relays? Where are you from?

 

-tendrils sneak into Mala's bodymass, blocking and tangling certain bits- Oh, you missed me really, I just know it!!

 

I am a being made up of a mostly amorphous cloud of nanomachines. I am not 'alive'.

 

I'm made of metal.

 

San Francisco, baby.
^_~
And you can visit my SanFran any day.

 

... San Fran, hm. How are you doing with the Omnic riots?

*She's got that 'work mode' look in her eyes, the flirting isn't even penetrating (ha)*

 

[Mala eels up the arm as best they can, sinking more hooks of their own under everything they can reach.] Always the optimist, aren't you?

 

?_?
...Omnics? Is that some new religious group or are we just saying words that don't mean things at each other?

 

Oh! So you are like other people here, no we are from two different earths mi amigo. In my world we made machines that are smart that decided they were done with us controlling them and killed people, no? Lots of people, very awful. I know how to hack them.

 

Ah yes, how horrible to object to slavery.

 

[Whisper is totally not hiding behind his cube of tea. At least Stentato's feeling well enough to start arguing again?]

 

Well someone's gotta be!! -Quintus abruptly shoves his face right up into Mala's with a manic grin-

 

Don´t you know? It´s just the worst thing. -his voice is dripping sarcasm-

 

I mean, not that I think genocide is a great solution to that. But if their machines could think, then they had the right to not be owned.

 

[There are far too many fangs for this to be a kiss. Clearly Mala is only trying to eat their brother's stupid smug face.]

 

-Stentato looks at whisper and firms up the curtain, blocking out the primes completely.-

...wanna see something cool, Whisper? You can look too, Sombra.

 

-And Quintus is presumably trying to tear them off with all those arms scratching at them-

 

[Whisper blinks, shakes his head, and refocuses on Stentato.] ...as long as it's not another hideously unhealthy aemulic display, I'd be glad to look at whatever it is.

 

-He opens up the notebook to a somehow three-dimensional sketch of a tree with a bird flying around it. As the bird loops, annotations and diagrams in shorthand come up and flick out of existence.-

 

[Pay no attention to the fade-to-black around the robot demigods...]