Thrown Away (Lock and Witch)

The little robot thing kept dancing until Grace got really serious. Then it seemed to pause, as if confused about what to do. What, had she thrown off it's groove.

Bioshock was surprisingly calm and empathetic. Good. Otherwise Grace would have sicked Pirate on him. The hero suggested that the Guilty deserved to be punished, and might have suggested that he was the one to punish them. Grace was unsure about his meaning, but her interest was peaked when he mentioned the afterlife.

And then he did something that Grace did not understand. He took off his armor and his mask, handed her a gun, and told her to shoot him.

Did he think that she wouldn't? The words had barely come out of Bioshock's mouth when the strange gun fired. If Bioshock wanted to die so much, then Grace would oblige him.

As Steele had hoped, Bioshock had taken initiative, and while the little orb listened for their name, it didn't crop up in the human's speech. As they had suspected, Grace had not addressed them. But with their attention drawn, Steele listened guiltily, reminding themselves not to answer, lest they face punishment. A lot of what Bioshock said was beyond the living metal's current understanding, but the human's voice carried a tone of tension. It echoed around the junkyard, and Steele remembered what Bioshock had said earlier, about it being a place for refuse, things that weren't needed. It explained the large variety of materials, and the many gaps between their surfaces. Despite not fully understanding the words being exchanged, the tone of the two humans had an effect on Steele, subduing their usual curiosity and enthusiasm, their anxiety perhaps heightened by the fact that they were ignoring the behavior they had learned to avoid abuse by humans who didn't want a test subject to know certain secrets.

Bioshock stopped speaking and rustled a little. Steele uttered a few small chimes, rolling a little in front of Bioshock, to rest so that they were between the two humans instead of behind Bioshock. The living metal knew about clothes, but the knowledge was muddled by the way they saw them. What Steele knew was that humans had a branching structure, with removeable parts of their outer layers. Bioshock now shifted part of their outer layer, and pulled out a strange object. More shifting prompted Steele to utter another metallic chime, realising with a start that the smooth covering over Bioshock's face was another one of these removeable layers. So the human wasn't disfigured, as Steele had first thought.

As the orb digested the new information of Bioshock's form, the human offered the strange object to Grace, who took it, and without hesitation, caused it to fire. The object created a loud sound that was quite startling, something that Steele had never heard before. With a squeak akin to the sound of creaking metal, spikes erupted from the orb's body in all directions, retracting just as quickly as they had extended, propelling Steele a few feet into the air. Landing with a dull thump, the living metal let out a wavering chime, testing their surroundings tentatively. In a small voice they stuttered, "Wh-what happen?"

(OOC: I'm assuming the biogun still causes a loud sound to propel whatever bullets are in its chamber due to the force needed, despite not using the usual methods of propulsion.)

The shot rang out and Bio saw a white flash as his powers immediately activated in response to trauma. The bullet pierced through the gut and he felt acid begin to spill out. The pain and shock of the bullet had him to his knees and his mouth just gaping open with silver blood dripping out. It all felt very real and then he felt nothing as death came to dance. He fell face forward. For a minute, he didn't stir, but then his hand twitched and he began to pull himself up.

"That's death. Pretty peaceful... Now comes the painful part." he said wincing terribly as the nerves in the wound began to repair.

So, the man had healing powers. Grace had suspected that might be the case. The alternative was that he was completely insane. He had put a gun in her hands and told her to shoot him. Was that supposed to impress her? Teach her something? Show her the error of her philosophy? He had an unfair advantage, one that allowed him to escape death, not experience it.

Bioshock had said that there were things worse than death. If he was talking about pain and suffering, then Grace was pretty sure she had him beat. Was he trying to make her think that he was suffering more than her parents had suffered when they died? Was he even attempting to say that he was suffering more than Grace herself?

As Bioshock pulled himself to his knees, Grace planted the heel of her combat boot on the back of his hand. "You know nothing of death, and nothing of pain."

She shot him again, this time in the back, assuming the gun would work a second time.

When she was sure he would be able to hear her, she continued. "You don't know what hopelessness is like. All you people say that death is the end of suffering, like it's peaceful. You people are weak. The strong keep living, no matter how much it hurts, because they know that there is nothing worse than death."

She shot him again.

"I spent the last year being tortured. Every time I looked into the mirror, I hated what I saw. I told myself that if I got the chance, I would kill every living thing on this planet."

She pointed the gun at Steele. "And you, little robot, are going to help me do that, or else I'm going to shoot you. I don't know what you can do, but I'm guessing you aren't as tough as our friend here. So what's it going to be? Work for me? Or get blown up?"

Bioshock fell to the ground. For some reason the human had collapsed, like wire trying to support a too-heavy weight. Where a human might be shocked into silence, the little orb of metal didn't have that luxury, for to do so would be to become blind. Instead, Steele let out soft, near-constant chimes, barely allowing the echoes to reach them before sounding off again. There was definitely something off about Bioshock, no minute movements, no movement at all. And then, all of a sudden, there was a twitch and the human got up.

Grace stepped forward and activated the strange object again, again causing Steele to jump slightly, again landing with a dull thud. The third and fourth shots were less startling. The living metal gave up their practiced deafness, attempting to glean everything they could from the human's words, even though it was a futile attempt. The words were familiar, but the meaning behind them, Grace's emotions, were alien. And it would make sense, as Steele had never really had a thought for mortality in their life. Having never known any other conscious beings before landing on Earth, and further not even having a body that had biologic processes that could stop, the small orb wasn't even sure that they could die. It made grasping the concept of mortality a tough task. Perhaps, it was like going dormant, when the space metal would be unaware of existing until they were stimulated in some way. But if that was the case, then surely Grace could simply visit her parents and wake them.

Steele didn't even have the patience to puzzle through mirrors and reflections, nor did they have the time, as Grace turned the loud object on them, offering up demands. Steele deflated again, huddling closer to the ground, spikes protruding in all directions as protection. They were fairly sure that the tiny explosions couldn't hurt them, at least not very much. The living metal had gone through many impact tests, and was generally able to withstand quite a bit of punishment before beginning to feel pain. Still, this human had hurt Bioshock, who had been nothing but kind. And Grace was using that tone again, with a certain hardness to it, that simply did not sit well with Steele.

In a rash decision, the living metal decided to take action, returning to their spherical form, and uttering a grating screech. Rapidly extending and then retracting a set of spikes propelled the orb at Grace's outstretched hand, eighty pounds of metal hurtling forward, moving at least thirty miles per hour. Hitting the object held in the human's hand, Steele deformed their body, engulfing the thing in metal, crushing it. The living metal hoped the thing would be useless now, and hoped Bioshock would forgive them for ruining their possession.

There was, however, a slightly more pressing matter at hand. Grace's hand, to be exact. Steele had only crushed the end of the object the human held, staying just out of contact of the flesh gripping the other end. Steele only wanted to get rid of the threat, not to harm Grace. Still, keeping their body this deformed for more than a few seconds would begin to get extremely painful, and beyond that, Steele was nearly blind, echoes warped by the uneven shapes their body was taking. The only real information they had to go on was the position of Grace's hand, and that only by the ambient heat radiating from it. Steele's first instinct, however, was to continue engulfing the object, the edges of their body shivering, wanting to close and join back into a whole, but not wanting to engulf and crush flesh and bone.

Bio groaned as she shot him more while he was on the ground, but it suddenly stopped. He rolled himself over. It was so painful... but it made him so... alive! He chuckled as he found amusement at his latest form of therapy. Despite currently being paralyzed, he allowed his wounds to be open as he continued talking. A new side of him had emerged, a side that would actually stoop to addressing people like Grace, who he usually dismissed as jerks. Despite that, jerks needed to be reached out to too.

"I feel all of it. Life, death it's all beautiful. Before you go all cliche mental breakdown on me, think about this. What's the difference between a death from cancer, death from being shot, and peacefully dying in your bed? Nothin, absolutely nothing. You're going to die just like you were born, you'll have absolutely no say in it happening. Death is just the absence of life. It's not pain, it's not evil, or good, it just is. And you're too naieve to realize that you're just one of many stuck in this idea of the world being against you - worse- you want to take it out on everyone, like a child who can only step on ants. Is that really going to make it any better? HUH?!

There are people who are content with dying someday, people like me. Not because we're scared, like you, but because we know we've lived it up. And even then all of those perspectives are just illusions, it just happens. So can you stop all of this typical emo slam poetry business and tell me how you really feel and why you're here? What loneliness, injustice, heartache, lies, sins, insanity, whatever, has made you so obviously disturbed? It's written all over your face, haha."

 Bio prepared an Adam cell device on the back of his hand, preparing for the woman to lash out again. As the half-dead Bio lay there, almost split open, his MP3 player was playing 'Ugly' by the Exies. Not nearly his favorite song, but in a moment like this it played in all its unholy glory awkwardly as Bio finished his thoughts.

Upon review, Grace really wasn't sure how she had expected the little metal ball to react. But she certainly had not expected it to come flying at her with that much speed. The little thing wrapped around the nozzle of the gun, breaking the weapon to some extent. Grace pulled the trigger a few times, but nothing happened. Steele had jammed the weapon enough so that it couldn't even fire. This was a real problem, because this gun was certainly useful.

Before she could come up with a solution to the metal blob problem, Bio started talking again. He was still alive? Even aware of his healing factor, Grace was surprised. She had underestimated how powerful he was. How on earth was she supposed to kill this guy?

Grace's face turned red with anger, and it got worse with every word Bio said. How dare he lecture her as though he knew a single thing. Where was this annoying laughter side of him coming from? He was being shot, not tickled.

At least his wounds did not appear to be healing anymore. Bio was being kept alive through some disturbing means, but Grace had not yet exhausted her options. She tossed the gun into a pile of trash, Steele along with it. She walked to another nearby pile and pulled out something useful she had seen earlier. It was an axe, covered with rust but still sharp. Sharp enough for her purposes, anyways.

"Don't lecture me, and don't patronize me. I'm going to cut your head off. If you survive that, then maybe I'll answer some of your questions." Grace raised the axe over her head and brought it crashing down towards Bio's neck with both arms.

Bioshock's words were an unintelligible garble as they reached Steele, syllables reflecting off of the living metal and bouncing into one another to be heard a second time. The echo of the human's voice distorted even more terribly against the nearby terrain. And then, all of a sudden, Steele and the object they were half wrapped around went sailing through the air. As soon as the presence of heat and pulse vanished, the living metal let their deformed body fully envelop the object. It happened in an instant, while still in midair, the arms of liquid-looking metal closing around the gun and fully compacting it. Steele was an orb again by the time they hit the pile of refuse, shivering uncomfortably around the mass at their core. Ripples of raised bumps danced over their surface, the living metal's body desperately wanting to expel the foreign material that sat as a lump at their core.

Steele didn't have time to wait, however. Muffled through the garbage surrounding them, thin bits of plastic and something vaguely wood-like, Grace's movements reached the small orb. So did the human's words. Steele had a hunch that humans required their bulbous top, their head, in order to live. It was evident in the way they protected them when in danger, and there was so much of that odd liquid of theirs in the tube connecting it to the rest of the body. Steele had heard it before, and the first time they had been quite startled, wondering if perhaps it was their form of echolocation. It wasn't nearly loud enough, though, and the living metal had later learned that humans had other ways of navigating their world.

The fact remained that Grace was about to separate Bioshock's head from his body, something that was very bad for a human to experience. Even with this knowledge, Steele hesitated a moment. Their previous actions had been spurred by some odd emotion. A human might have lashed out in what could be called anger or hatred, but those weren't it. Perhaps a sense of self-determination was a better fit. In the moment Steele had decided to choose their own fate, casting off the last mental shackles of captivity, refusing to submit themselves to others simply because they had such little experience. But with that decision made, Steele now found themselves indecisive. As Grace grabbed a long object of metal and wood from another pile of debris, the orb realized that they could simply roll away and leave the scene. There really was nothing keeping them there to watch the two humans with their enigmatic emotions.

Except, maybe there was one thing. Bioshock's soothing voice, his willingness to share that device with the music. This human was kind and compassionate, a rarity in Steele's limited experience of the race. And one that Steele didn't want to disappear forever. This time, unlike in space, the living metal had the tools to manipulate their surroundings and their fate. And this time they were going to use those tools.

Struggling a little to extricate themselves from the pile of trash, spikes sinking easily through the plastic and paper, Steele chimed loudly, pinpointing Grace. Using the distance between them and the crazed human to build up speed, Steele hoped they could reach Bioshock in time. The weapon in Grace's grip was already beginning its descent from the extreme of the backswing, and the orb's extending spikes were a little erratic as the foreign mass shifted at their core. With no time to interpret the echoes of another call, Steele shot themselves toward where they expected the handle of Grace's weapon to be, sailing through the air, intending to engulf this object as well. The faint feeling of air rushing around their body gave the orb a pinprick of anxiety; had they missed? Or were they about to make contact with their target at any moment?

"Welp, it's now or never. If this is what you want then don't say I didn't war-"

 Steele came barreling out of nowhere, engulfing the axe and giving Bio time to get out the way. He aimed a kick at Grace's crotch to throw her over his body and onto her back. In his opinion, any pain she felt from that will be well deserved.

"Steele, thanks buddy!"

He pulled himself up still barely able to stand but the device he had was now on the back of his hand ready for use. Steele hadn't technically saved his life since he had a trick up his sleeve but it was the thought that count.

"Why! I don't get it! Don't you want to talk to someone about all this? I would have left you alone, but the fact that you were trying to enslave someone is lame and really messed up. Well whatever, come on Steele, let's get out of here this lady needs professional help. "

Bio just began to walk away, shaking his head. The stubbornness and drama of adults was so pitiful to him.

Steele collided with the axe and wrapped around it, slowing the weapon's descent enough to give Bio time to react. He kicked Grace in the crotch, and it was kinda hard to dodge things you weren't expecting while you're swinging an axe.

Grace hit the ground hard, the axe falling beside her. Pirate jumped into a defensive position, ready to tear apart anyone who came close to his defenseless mistress. But as Bio stood up, he started to walk away. He said that Grace was messed up, and told Steele to follow him.

Grace's back hurt, but she still managed a mocking laugh. "You think I'm messed up? If you don't want to get hurt, you shouldn't give people a gun and tell them to shoot you. And then you turn around and you suddenly don't get it? Go have fun with your robot. I'll just stay right here."

Grace's back was still hurting, and to her horror, she couldn't stand up. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get her body to move. Tears streamed down her face. No. This couldn't be happening.

Suddenly, Grace gained control of her body again. Her limbs shook, and she slowly got to her feet. "Come on, Pirate. Let's go home." At least she wasn't alone.

There it was! Metal collided against metal, and Steele felt the vibration of the wooden handle as it was kept somewhat in place by Grace's grip. Body deforming again, Steele engulfed the axe, the head crumpling like paper into a tight, super dense ball, wood splintering as it was compressed. The living metal's pseudo arms had completely covered the weapon as both hit the ground, having fallen from the human's grip on their descent. This time it took Steele longer to compress the foreign material around the material that already sat at their core, bumps shivering across their surface. The orb hadn't had much experience engulfing objects, and it was quite uncomfortable.

Letting out a garbled chime, Steele realized the dog had rushed closer, emitting its grumbling noise. Bioshock had stepped further away, and called out, inviting Steele to accompany them. The orb wanted to shrink down into a puddle again, but the material held in their core prevented from doing so, and even the thought sent another shiver of bumps dancing around the surface of the orb.

Slowly, they rolled a little further away from the dog and Grace. Steele felt bad for the human. They hadn't wanted to hurt Grace, and her voice sounded slightly distressed, but at the same time the human had given those demands. Remembering Grace's demands and that hard, unpleasing tone made it just a little easier for teele to roll after Bioshock, struggling as their spikes didn't quite react how the orb wanted them to. The mass at Steele's core was larger now, and even more uncomfortable. It shifted and pushed at the living metal's body as they climbed over abandoned items. It occurred to the orb that they still didn't know exactly where they were, or where the human was leading them. The occasional muffled chime sounded over the junkyard as the orb kept their bearings.