//Why I Used A Tungsten Alloy For My Synthetic Character.

Although he regretted the loss of life it was -he supposed- a poetic justice for the pirates to die in such a way. He heard the call. The only problem was that the devastation of firepower that had been rained down on him left the comms absolutely useless and he was unable to respond or to even update the captain on the situation here. Which meant that he would have no warning about the parasite and the extreme danger that it was going to pose to anyone that it came on contact with. He would just need to hold on and hope for the best. Maybe there was still a chance to prevent the worst from coming true.

It only took a blink to activate thermal imaging to see through the smoke and mist to find his targets and when he did, he took a few more well aimed shots at them without the pressure of being fired at in return. It was just a shame about the synthetic skin being so damaged to reveal the tungsten alloy shell beneath. It would take some time for the nanobots to repair, and the humans always tended to be quite uncomfortable with it. They didn't like it when things were different or unfamiliar to them. "I was designed to withstand battle with Terrormorphs. Your efforts are wasted." He didn't bother with more warnings. They had plenty of them and had not been swayed. He was now authorized to kill to preserve the life of his crew.

My muse is being held in solitary confinement and hasn’t seen anyone for weeks. Send ⚠ to find them.

Fallout - Deathclaw Tackle by ~Edge-Works

He selected the first EM weapon that he could get his hands on, checked it over and decided that this would be the best option if he had to use one even if the pirates wouldn't show them the same curtesy. Weapon in hand he hurried back to the makeshift lab to check in on the sample and the progress that it was making. He needed to know more about the creature. "In the lab with the sample waiting for it to analyze. I've acquired the EM rifle." He informed over the nearest intercom. It seemed that now was the moment of truth as the humans so often liked to phrase it. Those pirates were going to come through here and they were going to have to do their best to stop them causing too much damage.

"But, Captain... the parasite." He realized that they had gotten into a very dangerous situation. If these raiders managed to get infected and carried it to other planets... a good portion of humanity could be wiped out. He quickly snatched up the blood sample from the floor and rushed it to the make-shift lab to get the processing started so that it could be analyzed quickly once the problem at hand was dealt with. With the sample cooking he hurried into the other room to find a weapon to prepare to defend them. Normally it was against his programming to harm a human, but there were some cases in which he could act, and this was one of them. Still, he would try to resolve it peacefully until he was left with no other choice.

Fallout - Rangerby Edge-Works

time to ride.

It makes me feel like I’m finally living .

Open Starter

"You brought a man-eating parasite onto the ship?"

"Not a dent, sir. The miners on the other hand didn't fare quite as well when the strike breakers came in." As it turned out humans tended to be quite squishy when struck by batons. "I do hope they're alright." A shame that it had to come to violence, and he had not been able to negotiate a peaceful end to the strike. But the damage was done and well past by now. "I'm quite ready to return to work." He felt a bit 'stir-crazy' as humans called it. There was so much work to be done. The ship must be terribly filthy without him taking care of the upkeep. Oh, he shuddered at the very thought of the dust bunnies building.

Continued from X

-From Closed to Opened-

(The person meant to answer this never did so if anyone else is interested let me know)

WWI - The Apocalypse (Closed Starter)

Sign up for King and Country. For Honor and Glory. Do your part. It started that way. Eager enthusiasm to serve one's country. But it didn't stay that way. The moment one had to put a seventeen-inch blade through another man and watch the light fading from his eyes it changed something. It changed when the bombs started falling and disintegrated a man right before your very eyes. It changed when you listened to young boys crying out for their mothers as they died tangled up in the muddy barbed wire in no man's land where nobody could reach them to render aid. No. There was no honor and there was no glory here. Only pointless waste of lives. Defeatists talk they would call it, but he knew the truth. The only ones to call it defeatist were rich old men with something to gain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he sighed heavily to himself, knowing a cold rain would only bring with it more discomfort and suffering. Adjusting he tried to make himself as comfortable as he could within the small dugout in the side wall of the trench that served for a bed. No mattress and a helmet made for a poor pillow, but it was what they had. A few soldiers on patrol made their way back and forth through the trenches. The mood had become very somber. No longer was it the jovial banter of stating they would be home before Christmas. There was no end in sight.